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sukirichi · 6 months ago

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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa. “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna x reader smut #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro x reader smut #suna x you #suna x you fluff #suna x you smut #rintaro suna x reader #suna x reader romance #suna rintaro x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader smut #rintaro x reader smut #🖤. after dark

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dawn-moths · 8 months ago

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Tomura x Reader

word count: 800+

(You try and convince Tomura to take a break from his games and come to bed at a reasonable time for once.)

disclaimer/content warning: no warnings apply! sfw, soft tomura, maybe quirkless au?? i don’t really know, i just love and miss him a lot and wanna take care of him.

***

It’s late— nearly two AM— and the glow of the moon trying to creep in through the gaps of the curtains competes with the glow emanating from the trio of computer screens currently in use in the other corner of the room.

“Tomu…” you murmur, half a groan and half a whine, as you turn over beneath the covers. “Come to bed…”

It’s so warm here, your body heat seeping through the sheets, the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing— one of his shirts, the soft black cotton displaying the fading decal of some game he used to like— clinging to your drowsy form like a veil of comfort and familiarity.

If you buried your nose in the collar, it still smelled faintly like him, despite you basically having claimed it for your own a few weeks back.

From across the room, Tomura sits before his three monitor display, the soft light from the screens shifting the colors cast across his face in a fast-paced rainbow, reds and blues and greens illuminating the pale waves of his hair.

It’s almost to his shoulders again. You’ll have to convince him to let you give it a trim soon.

“Tomuraaaaaa…” you whine a little louder, drawing his attention that time as he shifts his headset so only one ear is covered.

“Ok, just one more round,” he replies, something almost apologetic in his tone, no more irked grumbling or sarcastic attitude present like he used to respond to such a request in the past.

You basically had to drag him away from the computer, once upon a time. If you didn’t, he’d be playing right up until the sun was about to rise.

You rolled over onto your other side, facing away from the glow of the screens, letting your eyes fall closed once more, the constant mashing of buttons clicking softly to fill the otherwise silent room.

Whatever game he’s decided to log into tonight, the rounds are long. After ten minutes he’s still playing, one or two curses hissed out under his breath when his character takes a hit or someone else on his team messes up.

You turn again, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the light. Once the room becomes clear, you can see just how focused Tomura is. Like he’s locked in. Like he’s entranced. The way his fingers fly across every button and joystick of the controller like its second nature to him.

But it’s been nearly twenty minutes.

Enough is enough.

You sigh and rise from the warm comfort of the bed, padding over with bare feet to where he sits in his big gaming chair— a birthday present you’d surprised him with last year. He glances over at you for a split second, trying to conceal the slight guilt that pangs inside him.

“Make room…” you say, and he obliges, pushing back a bit from the desk so you can curl up against him, sharing your sated warmth with him in hopes of coaxing him to bed.

“Swear I’m almost done,” he says, shifting a bit to allow you to get comfortable, pressing your chest to his, legs straddling his waist, arms draped loosely around him as your head rests against his shoulder.

You can just barely hear the up-beat battle music muffled through his headset, the looping audio somehow making you even more tired despite the high-energy pulse of it.

Before long, you feel yourself dozing off again, that heavy, floating feeling of the moments right before you sink into sleep dripping through you like thick syrup, honey sweet.

Not two minutes after your body had gone slack and heavy against his own, the round ends and Tomura logs out of the game, one hand carefully pressed against your back to hold you in place as he leans slightly forward to place his controller on the desk. He puts his computer to sleep, the screens fading to black.

And now, it seems, it’s time for him to put you to sleep too.

You’re passed out, completely dead to the world, breathing slow and shallow, head beginning to loll as he carefully shifts to splay his big palms under your thighs, carefully lifting you as he stands, carrying you to the bed and placing you back among the rumpled sheets.

Once you’re all tucked in again, Tomura slips out of his jeans and puts on a fresh t-shirt— a habit you worked hard to instill in him, something about not sleeping in your day clothes or wearing your sleep clothes during the day— and then joins you under the covers, snuggling up next to you and gently cradling you in his arms.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before allowing his own eyes to fall shut, hoping to meet you somewhere in your dreams.

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 2024: Day 26

KINK: Phone / FaceTime Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (Masturbation)

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The house felt empty without Tyler, the silence filling every corner as you slipped into bed, the sheets cool against your skin. Outside, the sky was darkening, clouds thick and heavy, rumbling with the distant growl of a storm moving in. It seemed like the weather had barely paused this season, and neither had Tyler. He was somewhere out in Oklahoma tonight, chasing down another storm, and each night that passed only made you miss him more.

You grabbed your phone, staring at his contact photo for a moment before pressing call. The familiar sound of his voice picked up after just one ring.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice soft but filled with that warm, unmistakable charm.

“Hey,” you replied, already feeling a little bit of the ache ease just hearing him. “You busy?”

“Never too busy for you,” he answered, his tone warming you instantly. “Been thinking about you all day.”

You settled back against the pillows, letting out a soft sigh. “Miss you, Ty. Feels like forever since you’ve been home.”

“I know, baby. I hate being away this long. These storms are just keeping me moving nonstop. But the whole time, all I can think about is getting back to you.”

Your heart fluttered, the familiar way he made you feel safe and cared for even from miles away. “It’s not the same without you here. Everything’s just a little too quiet.”

He chuckled softly. “Guess we’ll have to change that as soon as I’m back.”

There was a pause, comfortable yet charged, the words unspoken lingering between you both. Tyler seemed to sense it too, his voice turning a shade lower.

“Gotta be honest, sweetheart, this is driving me crazy, being away from you like this,” he murmured, the warmth of his tone unmistakable even through the phone. “Just want to be there, holding you right now.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your pulse quickening as your fingers tightened around the phone.

“Yeah? Miss you too,” you replied softly. “Miss feeling your arms around me. Haven’t had a good night’s sleep without you here.”

You could almost see the way his jaw would clench slightly, that look he’d get when he was feeling just as affected as you were.

“Been thinkin’ about that every night,” he admitted. “The way it feels having you next to me… your head on my chest. My hands in your hair. Hell, darlin’, it’s all I can think about.”

Your breath hitched at the way his voice softened, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “Sometimes I swear I can still smell your cologne on the pillow,” you whispered, letting the honesty flow.

“Is that so?” he teased gently, his voice carrying that playful, yet intimate tone. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. Let me be there with you.”

You followed his instructions, closing your eyes as his voice poured over you, warm and steady.

“Picture me there, yeah?” he said softly. “You in bed, waiting for me. I’d be slipping in next to you, pulling you right up against me… feelin’ you under my hands, warm and soft. Just thinking about it is enough to drive me out of my damn mind.”

Your pulse quickened, his words pulling you under, making you feel as though he was right there with you. “God, Tyler… I wish you were here,” you murmured, a soft catch in your breath.

His voice grew rougher, that familiar confidence coming through. “Alright, baby, let’s make this feel a little closer. Do somethin’ for me?”

You swallowed, nodding though he couldn’t see it. “Of course.”

“I want you to turn your FaceTime on for me so I can see you, okay?”

You do as he says and turn your phone call into a FaceTime. You smile when you see his face fill the screen.

“Hey there beautiful,” he smiled.

“Hey cowboy,” you smile back.

“Okay baby, start by sliding your hand down, just the way I would. Nice and slow,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. “Imagine it’s me, baby, my hands, warm and steady. Think of me right there, my hand tracing your skin, feelin’ every inch of you.”

You did as he asked, your hand moving down, the thrill of his voice guiding you, making you feel like he was right there beside you.

“Like that?” you whispered, voice wavering with anticipation. You had flipped your camera around so that it was showing your body, letting Tyler see what you were doing.

“Exactly like that,” he replied, his voice almost a growl. “I’d take my time, lettin’ my fingers trail over your skin, feelin’ every bit of you. Just like I do when I’m right there, watching your face, seeing how much you want it.”

The heat rose inside you, his words drawing you closer to him even from miles away. You let out a soft sigh, the longing building, knowing he was feeling every bit as affected as you.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his tone husky, full of both praise and need. “God, I can’t wait to actually be there, to feel you again, just like this… except it’ll be my hands, my mouth…”

He let the words hang, and you shivered, letting the weight of his tone pull you deeper into his presence.

“Touch yourself the way you know I would,” he murmured, his voice like warm velvet. “Slow at first. I want you to feel it, to feel me. Imagine it’s my hands there, starting slow and steady… feeling you melt under my touch.”

You bit your lip, letting the quiet instructions seep into your thoughts. Slowly, you followed his words, your own hands tracing the path he would take, his voice filling in all the spaces between.

“There you go,” he murmured approvingly, a hint of a smile in his tone. “Take your time, darlin’. I’d want to feel you building up, feeling every bit of you getting ready for me.” His words were a guide, a steady hand leading you through the ache of being apart. He gave you time, patient and grounding, the warmth of his voice settling over you like his familiar embrace.

Your breaths grew shallow, every nerve heightened under his instructions. “It’s not the same without you,” you whispered, though it came out breathless.

“I know, baby,” he replied, and you could hear the tension in his voice too, a quiet ache wrapped around every word. “But just think… in a couple of days, I’ll have you in my arms, and I’m gonna make up for all this time.”

He paused, his breathing audible, matching your own. “Now… imagine me leaning over you, the way I always do,” he continued, his voice growing huskier. “Imagine my mouth… right there. Let your hand follow, baby. Think of it like it’s me, the way I’d kiss and tease, never giving you quite enough. I’d watch you, see how much you wanted more.”

You let out a soft sound of need, letting your hand follow his words, lost in the thought of his touch. Every inch of your skin felt alive, sensitive, almost electric.

“Just like that, darlin’,” he said softly, his words as gentle as they were intense. “I want you to keep going until you’re right there… until you can feel me.”

A warmth spread through you, a slow, burning build that left you feeling like he was right there beside you, guiding every movement. You could hear his breathing quicken as he continued, his voice strained, a raw edge to it now. “God, I wish I was there to watch you, hear you,” he murmured, barely containing his own desire. “Just know I’ll be back, and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

The thought of him there with you, of his hands, his mouth, his eyes locked on you, was all it took. You breathed his name softly, your body giving in to the moment, guided by his words.

For a long moment, silence filled the line, only the sound of both your breaths connecting you in the space between.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’,” he whispered finally, his voice softer, spent but full of warmth. “Just a little longer. I’ll be there soon.”

“Goodnight, Ty,” you whispered softly.

“Goodnight, darlin’. I’ll be home soon.”

And as you drifted off, his voice lingered, filling the empty spaces and keeping you close, even as the storm rolled on outside.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Smut

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suplicyy · 6 months ago

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"Wanna Be Your Muse..."

Artist!Reader x Karasuno [Part 2]

Summary — He discover by chance that you love drawing him, maybe even too much...

Characters — Tanaka, Ennoshita, Sugawara, Asahi, Daichi.

— Fluff

— Gn! Reader

You've been together for a month now, and him going to your house and vice versa was starting to become a routine. That day, he was the one who went to your house to spend the afternoon.

You were in your room watching a series, when you said you were going to the bathroom and left the room, leaving him alone there. While you were gone, he watched your room, looking at some posters on the wall, books on the shelf, a notebook open on his desk... – a notebook? - he thought. You usually left your desk tidy, so it was rare to have anything "dropped" on it.

He knew it wasn't good to see your things without permission, especially when you weren't there to let him or not, but he thought about taking the notebook and putting it on the shelf with the others. So when he went towards your desk to get the notebook, he didn't expect to see some drawings of him.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

This man is in love with you more than ever, but now that he has seen your drawings, he is already sure that he would spend the rest of the days of his life with you.

I swear, he almost passed out right there.

As soon as you come back from the bathroom, get ready, because he will praise you until the end of the day (but it's not like he doesn't do this every day, but on this particular occasion his compliments would increase by 100%)

At that moment his eyes almost turned into hearts.

Whenever you would do some of his art, he would offer to be your model; doing poses, gestures, expressions, everything you can imagine.

Chikara Ennoshita

He honestly never thought you would draw him. Among so many things you could observe and put in your notebook, why him?

But other than that, he was quite happy, his cheeks turning pink and an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched your artwork that you made with so much affection.

When you got to the room, he would tease you in an affectionate way.

He would try to help you with his opinions when you were in doubt about something.

Draw on paper or digitally? What colors to use? He would try to help you choose these and many other questions.

Sugawara Koushi

He would be so proud of you, I swear.

That definitely made Suga happier than he already was (he always say to you that just being in your company is enough to make him happy).

He would give you lots of kisses all over your face as a thank you!!

There would be times when he would see you drawing, and Suga would sit next to you with a sheet of paper and a pencil and try to draw with you. Even if his aren't as pretty or detailed as yours, you'll have fun together.

He would definitely paste the art you gave him on his bedroom wall. And he would always look at them when he was feeling down as a way to cheer him up a little (and it almost always works).

Asahi Azumane

Someone call an ambulance please, he just had a heart attack...

I'm serious, he was so nervous at that point that at any moment he could let out a not-at-all-manly scream.

Asahi would definitely keep your drawings for life, and always checking them out from time to time.

And if you asked him to draw him someday, he would say yes but he would definitely be a blushing mess.

And I don't know why, but in my mind Asahi is a pretty great artist. He would also draw you, but he would never have the courage to show you because he thinks you won't like them or because they aren't good enough.

Please give him some kisses and praise his drawings, he will be extremely shy about it but his heart will warm with so much love!!!

Sawamura Daichi

He would find the drawings very cute!! If you saw his expression when he was looking at the drawings of himself, you would see a big smile on his face.

Daichi would give you the most comfortable hug you had ever received in your life, and kiss the top of your head affectionately.

He already knew that you drew, and even saw you doing some of them, but he didn't imagine that you would draw him too.

I imagine he would ask you and Yachi to make posters for the volleyball club, with you doing the arts and her doing the designs!

And one of the reasons he did this was not because he wanted to show everyone how well his partner draws, no way... (yes, he did!)

A/N — I barely started writing here and I already disappeared, I'm really sorry guys!!! This week has been really busy for me, so it was a little difficult to finish this one...😭😭😭

And also... THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!!! I never imagined that in such a short time so many people would read what I'm posting, I'm really very happy!!

— Read part 1 [here] !

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #chikara ennoshita #chikara ennoshita x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara koushi x reader #asahi azumane #asahi azumane x reader #sawamura daichi #sawamura daichi x reader

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blublublujk · 1 year ago

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i just fucked your girl (and she loved it)

oneshot

word count: 11k

genre: established relationship (reader x namjoon), dark/morally gray characters and decisions

pairings: ghost hoseok x y/n and y/n x fiancé namjoon

summary:

A very lonely, horny ghost comes to haunt your dreams (and fulfills your every sexual desire).

warnings: oh my god get ready this is gonna get long. swearing, cheating?? (is it really cheating if he's dead? i'll let you decide), explicit sexual content; sexual "nightmares", unprotected vaginal sex AND anal (ITS TIME :D), rough sex, sub/dom dynamics, no safe word, submission, dirty talk, hoseok refers to people he comes across as victims (he doesn't force anyone i promise, not unless they want to ofc), masturbation, fingering, petplay? (the reader likes being called kitten), slight hand kink, slut shaming (oopsies), use of spit (oops again), use of lube, hickeys, lots of begging, hoseok's a bit mean but the ending will make it up a bit ISTG, namjoon's an innocent sweetheart, reader feels a lot of guilt, ass play (YAY), rimming (YAY pt2), mentions to gay sex and clown kink (you'll see), hoseok's like a ghost sex worker and the reader sorta manifests him, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, come shot, blowjob, hair pulling, daddy kink, breast play, creampie, a bit of a sad/angsty ending, so sorry if anything is missing I RLLY TRIED

btw there's sex scenes between namjoon and the reader AND hoseok and the reader so they both get their share.

a.n: happy fucking halloween. sorry this got a little sad towards the end, but i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i think i'll live in this world for a while. i'm so obsessed with this probably, my favorite work yet. i think this is my smuttiest work too? idk. i was gonna delete like half of it because i hate myself sometimes but i figured you guys would enjoy something a little longer so i typed and typed until my lil heart desired and this beast was created. btw i finished this at exactly 6:13pm. i thought i'd let yall know, if anyone's as crazy as me :D im so curious what you guys think about this one so feel free to comment (only if you want too ofc ^.^) idk when i'll be back with something new but please be patient with me. i promise im not leaving lol i just get busy. OKIE THIS IS SO LONG SORRY AND ENJOY. byeee <3

p.s. i do plan to write an epilogue cuz this got crazy at the end. so much left unsaid. my brain is sooo... lol

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

It was the same damn nightmare.

For the past three weeks you had been waking up in coldsweat, heart nearly beating out of your chest, breathing so out of control. You could barely hold yourself up.

And still somehow, you woke up drenching your panties of your own slick arousal.

It was the same nightmare from yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. You would end up in a dark, ominous apartment. It was yours, but somehow different. The apartment was pitch black, flashing red lights from time-to-time, as if someone in the building had pulled the emergency alarm. You would crumble in your bed, closing your eyes and praying it would end soon. That’s when he would appear.

A man in all black, long dark tousled hair. His teeth were bright, you could tell by the smile on his face while he watched you wither away in your sheets. The glow in his dull, sharp eyes would shine even in the dark.

He watched as you squirmed in your bed, feeling heavy, unable to stand by your own strength.

“Don’t force it, darling. Take what you need.” The stranger would say with a strong raspy tone, smelling your arousal fall into the sheets below your bottom. You were always bare in your nightmares as if you were waiting and submitting for him.

You couldn’t resist the feeling. At his call, your fingers would come to relieve the ache between your thighs. Playing with yourself as if you were alone, but it was far from the truth. He would watch as you pumped yourself two fingers deep, sighing and whimpering, satisfied that you no longer felt empty.

Sometimes, well no most times, he would join you in your nightmares. He would tear your hands from your leaking cunt sparing mercy and you would complain against your sheets. The stranger wasn’t that bad, not for long at least, because he would fill you with his own two fingers, his eyes would dilate watching you fall apart. He was smooth and precise, he would curve his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on target, loving the sinful sounds you made as you arched your back and yelled moans without holding back.

Once he was satisfied and right as you were about to explode, he would pull away, whipping his hard, swollen cock out of his pants and tugs on himself, forcing you to watch as he pleased himself . Of course you wanted it, but this was so wrong, very wrong.

The worst part is he wouldn’t just give it to you, he would make you beg for it. “Talk to me baby, you want it?”

You would shake your head, denying him and trying to pull yourself from under him, but realistically it is all you wanted. You wanted to taste the beads that fell from the slit of his hard cock. He was fucking big and that itself made you go fucking insane, his hands wrapped around his length nicely. You tried to stop your thoughts from going any further, but your imagination was a powerful thing, thinking about how his pretty hands would feel wrapped around your throat instead of his dick.

“Oh, you don’t? Maybe I’ll just leave you like this then.” He would say and it fucked with your head.

That was the last thing you wanted. “But– m’ so empty.”

“Then beg for it slut, you don’t have to be empty and lonely for long.” His tongue was smooth and wet against your skin as he licked down your throat, sucking little marks onto your skin. He had you wrapped around his fucking fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You wanted to move but at the same time, you wanted him to have his way with you. God can forgive you for this later.

“I c-can’t.”

“What a shame. I’ll just take care of myself and leave you here to watch.” He would start pumping his cock faster, tugging at the crown of his length.

You made an agonizing sound of complaint. “Please.”

“Please what little kitten?”

He was mean. So mean.

And you were fucking stupid.

“Please, f-fuck me.” You begged so sweetly.

The man would smile sinisterly before shoving himself deep inside you, forcing a scream of pleasure. He was not gentle in any way and you fucking liked that. As sick as it was.

He fucked you like his only mission was to make you come and drive you insane, pushing your legs far apart and brutally fucking deep into your walls.

He would watch you fall into your sheets, murmuring noncoherent words, completely submitting to the stranger you fell apart in his complete mercy.

What an honor.

“That's it baby. Squirt all over my dick.” His voice was always deep and you swore you could hear a smirk between his words.

Like magic his words would rip intense orgasms out of you and he would fuck you through them all until you eventually collapsed unconscious.

You wake up in a gasp, the wet feeling between your legs nearly makes you gag.

This can’t be. Not again.

“Baby, wake up.” A voice calls gently, soft hands soothe your back, patting and rubbing gently. “It’s just a nightmare, love. I’m here.”

“Joonie?”

“Yes baby. I’m here, go back to bed. I’ve got you.” His calm voice manages to settle the beating drum of your heart and still, this is the exact problem with these recurring nightmares.

Even as your fiancé rubs circles into your back, all you can think of is the hands of that strange man that would fuck you into a delrious state. You hated it. It felt too close to cheating.

If only Namjoon saw what your nightmares truly consisted of, he would be horrified and disgusted. Every night was worse, the guilt slowly started building in the pit of your stomach as you would daydream about the nightmare over and over and over.

…

“You okay baby?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle, aware that your mind was somewhere else during dinner.

“I- yes.” But you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Flashbacks of the man in your nightmares would haunt your thoughts. These nightmares would play in your head like old memories.

His hooded eyes watching as you fucked yourself open. He would whisper things like, ‘that’s it kitten, so fucking wet all for me’ and ‘good kitten, nice and tight for me’.

“Imagine what your fiancé would do if he saw the way you squirm in my hands. He could never fuck you the way I could, kitten. Isn't that right? Only I fuck you exactly the way you like it. My little submissive kitten.”

“Please.” Begging is all you could muster to do in your dreams. You felt pathetic. You never wanted someone so bad. The guilt only grew stronger when you realized you were fucking addicted to your own dreams. You started chasing these nightmares.

What was wrong with you?

“Baby?” Namjoon called your attention once again, smiling apologetically. “You feeling okay? Your face is quite flushed.”

Your hands fall onto your face feeling the slight burn against your palms. “Sorry. I’m okay, just a little hot in here is all.”

“It’s the end of October baby. It’s been really cold out. I’m surprised you aren't begging me to warm you up by now.” He tries to carry the conversation into a lighter, more casual matter.

A nervous smile breaks out onto your lips, as you brush a piece of hair out of your face. “Must just be experiencing hot flashes. It happens when I’m a bit more stressed than usual.”

“Anything you wanna talk about? You know you can talk to me.” He’s sweet and present for you as usual. You feel your heart drop thkining about how this is what you are missing out on by feeding into those stupid fucking nightmares. Something had to change.

Wake up, Y/N.

“Yeah, I know babe. It’s nothing to worry about. Just work stuff.” You make an excuse for yourself and it seems to work, for now.

“Mm, okay. Don’t be afraid to come to me for anything. I don’t want you suffering alone.” Your fiancé places a hand on top of yours, squeezing it softly.

“Thank you, Joonie.” This time you give him a real smile, but the guilt still stays hidden deep inside you watching as he reciprocates the smile back at you.

“There’s my beautiful bride-to-be. Stop worrying so much baby. Maybe you should take some time off from work. You know sleep usually makes you feel better. It always has. My sleepy girl.”

And there it goes and hits you all at once again.

Guilt. So much guilt. Sleep doesn’t even feel enough these days. The nightmares make you feel as if you never rest. You are clearly aware that dreams aren’t real life, but you even wake up sore from them. It’s scary how realistic it all feels. Maybe that’s why this makes it worse for you. Everything feels too real.

“Yeah… I’ll think about it.” But you won't because time off means resting and resting means more sleep and more time for these nightmares to keep haunting you. It’s like you will never win.

“Eat your dinner baby, it's getting cold.”

—-

The daydreams continue even at work.

“Let me see that perfect ass, kitten. Turn around for me.”

It’s like he completely owns you, hypnotized by his voice. You immediately present for him, face down and ass up sitting so nicely.

“Fuck kitten, look at you. Tell me, does that lame fiancé of yours ever play with this ass?”

You whimper a ‘no’ feeling a glob of spit drip into your unused, virgin hole. His thumb caressing the wet ring of muscle, watching you clench around nothing.

“I’ll change that soon, kitten. Just how you like it.”

Namjoon wasn’t necessarily opposed to butt stuff, the one time you mentioned it he briefly dismissed it. Granted, he was busy at the time with some work, and you were too embarrassed to bring it up again.

It seems you got lucky nonetheless.

The man blows hot air into your wet hole, his lips felt soft against your ass. He would leave a kiss here and there before his tongue peaked out and circled around your rim.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You weren’t the most vocal sexual partner yet somehow, under his touch, you were the loudest.

Moans fell dangerously loud from your lips as he would continue to fuck his tongue deep inside your ass. Stopping every few seconds to stare at your puffy rim, gaping around nothing. Fuck, what a sight for sore eyes you were.

“Please.”

“What baby?” His palm was heavy against your ass, watching it bounce back.

“More.” You would beg.

“Anything.” He would purr back.

A thumb circled around the velvety muscle before pushing right in, fucking his thumb alongside spit that dripped from his mouth.

Yes. Just how you like it.

“Y/N?” Your coworker brushes a hand against your shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Shit– yeah, my bad Yoona. I’ve just been feeling a bit sick lately, I think I’m coming down with a cold.” Which is a complete lie, but how do you tell your coworker you’re having wet daydreams about another man (who by the way only exists in your imagination) that isn’t your fiancé and that it is taking over every part of your life and that the guilt of it all sits heavy on your chest as days pass by and there is nothing you can do about it, but indulge in these dreams and practically live in them because you’ve become an addict.

Yoona breathes out a light hum. “You don’t seem sick.”

Fuck.

“Yeah… well it’s just starting, my throat feels dry and sore these days.”

“Maybe you should take a day off?” She suggests.

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree just so she gets off your back.

“You’ve been working a lot these days anyways. I’m sure Mr. Gyun wouldn’t mind if you called off. You’re one of his favorites anyways.” She laughs and you fake a smile.

“Yeah, right. I’ll think about it. Let's just focus on work. We need this revised and sent off by Monday.”

“Sure sure. But I’m being serious, take a day off or two, you look like you need it. You seem… tired?” She says, worrying by the sound of her tone.

Because you know she will never let this go, you reassure her. “Yoona, I love you to death, but don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll take some time off if it gets worse. Thank you, really.”

“Alright, just looking after you Y/N. Your soon-to-be husband would kill me if I didn't.”

“I’ll tell him you’re doing a great job, now back to the transcripts…”

—-

You knew the night would eventually come.

There was only so much you could ignore and forget.

A sudden rush of heat wakes you from one of your nightmares, the jolt in your body scaring Namjoon awake beside you. You knew that he meant no trouble, but he gave you the face of ‘this again?’ and you could no longer push it aside.

“Baby?” Namjoon’s voice is tired and filled with sleep, but he asks anyways while patting your back gently, as he always does when this happens like the sweet fiancé he is. “What happens in these dreams anyways?”

How do you tell your husband-to-be and boyfriend of seven years that you get completely ruined by another man in your sleep?

Namjoon was far too sweet and innocent to get mad at you for this and you knew that. Yet the guilt never stopped you from feeling terribly about the situation.

“You won’t be upset with me?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

Namjoon stands to turn on the nightlight by the bed before he lays back and wraps his strong arms around your waist. “Baby, look at me.”

With heavy eyes, you look back at your fiancé.

His palm cradles your soft cheek, pushing a loose hair behind your ear. “I could never be upset with you, my love. It might help to talk your nightmares through. I’ll be right here with you baby.”

With shaking hands, you take a deep breath. “Well, I don’t know where they come from, but there’s this man in my dreams.”

Namjoon raises a brow, doing his absolute best to understand you even while the clock reads in bold 3:44am.

“This man, he’s dressed in all black. He— he has these dark eyes.”

“Dark eyes?”

“Yeah, he— his eyes are dark, sharp all around, it’s sinister.”

“Okay. What happens?” He whispers, pulling you even closer into him, your hand falls into his chest for comfort.

“He— he…” You struggle finding the right words.

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Baby, d-does he hurt you?”

No. Of course not. In fact, he does the opposite. The man pleases you until you can’t give him anymore and he leaves you with sore limbs and the burning stretch between your legs as a reminder of what he’s done to you and what he’s capable of.

You quickly shake your head. “No but he- he touches me and does things to me.”

“Oh honey, why would I be mad at you about that? That’s completely unacceptable. Nobody should be touching you or doing things to you if you don't want it. I see now why this bothers—”

“Joonie, I feel,” you start and swallow the awful feeling in your throat, “ I feel like… if I've been cheating on you.”

“Baby, I know you would never. They’re just nightmares after all. It’s not like you enjoy it baby.” This is what you mean by Namjoon’s too innocent and kind-hearted to see past the lines between your words.

“But- I.”

“Wait… do you? Do you enjoy them?” Namjoon almost looks hurt to ask the question, but he’s quick to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, if you do.”

“I do.” You whisper like it’s some dirty secret.

There’s a pregnant pause before Namjoon pulls you completely flush against his body, rubbing circles behind your back. “It’s okay baby, it's okay. They’re just nightmares. They mean nothing.”

He kisses your hair for comfort and you let out a sob because they are much more than that to you and you know it. They are all you can think about. Shit, you think if you were given the chance, you would actually let that man have his way with you in real life. And it makes you feel disgusting because you know you enjoy this dynamic way too much.

At first, it was terrifying, you didn’t know the man and he, well he just became a weakness and you wanted him so bad, as much as you hated to admit it. Your imagination was a powerful tool. Why you and why with him? Why couldn’t your dreams be with Namjoon, your high school sweetheart?

“I’m so sorry, Joonie. For all these long nights. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The nightmares don’t stop, in fact they only feel longer and they get worse.” You cry into his chest.

“I know honey, it’s not your fault. Just think of me whenever you feel this way, okay?” He pulls back, wiping your tears off with his sleeves. Your fiancé was so fucking sweet and that’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was never angry at you or disappointed. Namjoon was always patient with you and a complete sweetheart. God, you’re so fucking stupid.

“And I’m not mad at you, okay? I never will be. Those nightmares mean nothing to me. I love you Y/N.” Your fiancé whispers into your hair, kissing the side of your face.

Namjoon has always been way better than you because had you been in his shoes, you couldn’t phantom hearing about him enjoying the presence of another woman. He knew only one part of this story. Namjoon doesn’t know that you spend evenings, the time you have the house alone while he’s off at work, fucking yourself to this strange man’s voice in your head. That you open yourself up just how you do in your nightmares and you swear you hear his voice telling you to keep going. You swear you hear him calling your name asking you about how Namjoon would feel about this. Like if his whole purpose is to make you feel worse about the situation. He’s ruining your life and you’re letting him. You think you’ve given up and it’s just started.

“I- I love you too.” You reply.

Namjoon smiles apologetically, hands gentle against your skin. “Let’s sleep?”

You nod and he pulls you against his hard chest, rubbing your back while he attempts to lull you back to sleep. It eventually comes, but not before you wake to those dark eyes again and the nightmare continues. This time you don't even fight it. He fucks you until you feel yourself collapse and you swear nothing has ever felt better.

…

The next morning Namjoon gently shakes you awake. “Good morning my love, you slept through your alarm. I figured you could take a day off so I called your boss to let him know you couldn’t come in today. I hope you don't mind.”

“Joonie?” Your voice is the cutest in the mornings (according to Namjoon), he smiles watching you struggle to wake up.

“Yes, my baby. I’m just getting ready to leave for work, but I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Well, it’s not like you have a choice so you accept your fate. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, honey. You slept quite well. You didn’t even wake up this time! Did it help? Talking through it?” Again, Namjoon could be so clueless.

The only reason you slept this well is because you were fucked into oblivion in your dream. As unbelievable as it may sound, you even felt sore down there. But he doesn’t have to know that, so he’ll just go off to work thinking that cuddles and his sweet words drifting you back to sleep actually worked.

“Yeah… yeah it did. Thank you again. Have a nice day at work.” You say, still warmly tucked in bed.

“I will, baby. ” He drops a peck into your cheek, smelling the fresh scent of his aftershave. “Call me if anything. See you later, my love.”

And like that you are left alone once again. The only thing that remains is the fluffy feeling of his plump lips buzzing against your cheek, a faint reminder that you are loved and have been for years, while you think about another man, one that only exists in your deepest darkest of dreams.

—-

Hoseok doesn’t remember how it happened. All he knew is he was standing in a place unknown, sensing there was another being in the room with him.

It's not his first time around a mortal human. No, in fact he had so much experience with lustful humans with all kinds of desires and wishes, but it has been quite long since he was manifested this strongly into someone’s dreams.

His favorite part was watching them act as if they didn’t ask for it. Call for him. They would lie and say that they could never fuck a dead being. A ghost at that. As if they didn’t manifest him themselves.

It's not like it was Hoseok’s fault for dying young and handsome and that now he tends to people’s guiltiest pleasures. It's not like he has anything better to do in the after-life. In reality, he’s doing people a grand fucking favor. The best thing about fucking a dead ghost is there’s absolutely no consequences, at least that’s what he always tells his victims. Unless you get addicted to one, then that’s really a personal problem. They can’t stay on mortal land forever, but for the time being Hoseok has become attached to his time here. Especially with his new little mortal toy.

When he first heard the calling, he almost missed it. He was fucking another mortal, a man in his mid-twenties to be exact. The man had called for him in his dreams and he attended to his duty with pleasure.

This man had a thing for clowns and Hoseok wasn’t no fucking clown, but he did his best to please him. His outfit was in all black (of course, it was his favorite color) and fit him quite well though it was different from his usual style, even down to the clown hat and all.

The guy would scream under Hoseok as he would pound into him like some fuck-doll and would have him come undone within minutes. He was so fucking easy to please. They always are.

When Hoseok came to you the first night. That’s how you found him. He still had the same outfit on (he was ripped from the last dream) and his hat had nearly fallen off in the process, but he was pleased when he came across his next victim. You were beautiful.

“Who— who are you?” You screeched, covering yourself up, cheeks flushed. You had been doing unspeakable things to yourself in the dream. “What are you doing in my room?!”

Hoseok smiles. God, they always are the same. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to and don’t mind me, keep doing what you were doing before I had rudely interrupted.”

The stranger goes to sit by the vanity in your room, making himself extremely comfortable as if it is a regular Tuesday night for him.

You try to stand and it's like something washes over you. The strange force pushes you back down and you have no choice but to take it.

The man chuckles, throwing his hat aside. “Don’t hurt yourself trying. Just let your instincts guide you. Tell me what it is you want, this will all go much smoother and much faster.”

The stranger in black winks and you feel disgusted (though your pussy doesn’t seem to agree with you).

Still you manage to say, “I want you to get out of my fucking room. I’m about to get married, you know and he’ll fucking kill you.”

“Ohhh.” He purrs, standing as he walks across the room. He stops a couple steps from your bed and leans down to match your height. “But you asked for me to come, baby. So guess what? Now I am your problem.”

He pinches your nose, wrinkling his own in the process and flashes a charming smile.

You swat his hand off you almost immediately. “I— I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t even know you and I don’t want to know you.”

“Mm, but soon we’ll know each other very well. Let’s not fight this.” The man’s voice is silky and you could practically see the sinful desire in his eyes while they take in your naked figure.

You have no idea what he even means by that, but right now you could care less. This is just a nightmare and soon enough, he will disappear and you will get to go back to doing what you were doing before he ever existed.

“Leave me alone please.”

The guy puts his hands up clearly coming and going in peace, while retreating back a few steps. “Whatever you say princess. I’ll be back when you’re ready.”

And just like that the man disappeared into a black distorted shadow.

He shows up only three nights later.

This time he catches you on your knees, riding a dildo on your bed. You don’t even hear him until he’s in front of you. Your hips stop mid roll. Whimpering as you feel the tug on your hair.

“Seems you’re ready.” He rasps, having a strong grip on your hair forcing you to look up at him.

“I— who the fuck are you? Seriously? What do you want with me? I know I’m dreaming and I can wake up any secomd so what the fuck do you want with me.” This time you don’t even entertain him. It’s clear this man has his own vulgar intentions, you wanna skip the small talk. He doesn’t seem like the type to give up until he gets exactly what he wants.

“The better question is what do you want with me. You manifested me after all, darling.”

Your eye twitches at the pet name, but you ignore it, for now. “But— I don't know you. How is that fucking possible?”

Even though he knows you won't understand it completely, he still answers truthfully. “I’m dead baby. Anything is possible.”

Great, so you’re just supposed to believe this man is some ghost haunting you in your dreams. Perfect!

This time you don’t ignore his stupid use of pet names. “S-Stop calling me that.”

“Oh?” The man pouts, and to be honest that does something to you. If the situation was different maybe you would admit he looks fucking sexy, even if he’s a menace.

His brows furrow, his jawline clenching as he speaks. “Is there another pet name you like? We’re already getting farther than last time, princess.”

You don’t even attempt to hold back the scoff, your eyes roll back. “No. I don’t— I didn't ask for you and I don’t want you bothering me anymore. Just please leave me alone. Please.”

The man groans, looking down at you with hooded eyes, the fist in your hair grips harder reminding you that he still had you under his control. “God, but you sound perfect begging. Are you sure of that, kitten?”

The man's voice drops in a sultry tone, nearling purring while he speaks. And somehow, that manages to slip a whine from your throat, nearly drooling at the sight.

Your eyes immediately widen. “I— I didn't mean that.”

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” The man smiles, petting your head affectionately. You were fucked. “Of course you didn't. You were so close weren't you, kitten?”

You shake your head, you’re unable to look away, but at the same time you want to throw his hands off you. You felt completely powerless under his gaze and you were liking it a lot more than you would like to admit.

“Don’t bother lying to me princess, I can smell it. You were so fucking close.” He whines the last part, biting his bottom lip, he seems to breathe in the scent. “So fucking close. I’m sorry. I always join at the worst times, you can continue.”

He offers like a fucking weirdo, pervert and still you disgustingly want it.

“I said, don't call me that!” Your hand flies to his and forces it off you.

“Then talk to me.” He’s rough, but firm with his tone.

“No. I don’t- can't and I won't. Go bother someone else.”

“I can’t. You asked for me and you brought me here. Now you have to deal with this.” He doesn't attempt to put his hands back on you, but he does let his gaze wander seeing as you still haven’t moved from your dildo.

“This is bullshit. It’s just in my head anyways. If I close my eyes it’s like you aren’t even here. Now let me fucking come in peace.” Your eyes closed in the middle of your rant and he seemed to listen. Hoseok backs off, watching you from your wall to be exact, but he lets you take care of yourself. That’s what he’s there for after all.

After a few seconds of calming yourself down and regaining your arousal, you slowly lift yourself up feeling the dildo pull against your walls and you drop yourself back down.

Hoseok was right, you weren’t too far away from coming, but he messed up your pace and now you have to work yourself back up.

It doesn’t take too long before you set a quick pace, fucking yourself onto the silicone length.

Truly it wasn’t that you and Namjoon’s sex life was bad, in fact he was the best fuck of your life (not that you had much experience given he was your high school sweetheart) but after years of being together, things had changed, a lot.

You don’t even remember the last time you guys got creative in bed, besides a few vibrators from time-to-time. It was starting to get boring and you didn't want to admit this to him, but you wanted so much more. It's like your body was begging for it. And you didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying it, so instead you kept it to yourself and the sexual frustration built up overtime making it impossible not to think about constantly.

You gasp when you finally open your eyes to find the man watching you with heavy lidded eyes from your wall, he’s not even touching himself, but you can see he’s hard in his pants.

He licks his lips as he watches you jump down on the dildo ferociously. Your eyes make contact and that's when everything seems to explode.

Moans start slipping from your lips and you feel the knot in your stomach start to build quickly. The silicone molds around your walls perfectly, feeling the tip brush against your sweet spot repeatedly, fisting the sheets below you.

Hoseok’s nose seems to flare and he can practically taste your arousal in the air. He watches as you bounce on that useless dildo, wishing it was his cock instead. Your mouth falls open, drool nearly spilling while you feel the knot coming undone.

It isn’t long before Hoseok finally decides to speak and it does wonders. “Come, you fucking slut.”

Fuck.

On call, you come and he’s forced to watch you moan and writhe against your sheets, feeling the dildo slowly push out of you.

He pushes himself off the wall and comes towards you and you feel too exhausted to push him away. You are laying in the middle of your bed now, dildo still between your legs but it’s fallen out.

You feel as he pushes the dildo back inside you overstimulating your used hole as he fucks it into you deeply. You really, really shouldn't let this happen. You are going to be a married woman soon for fuck’s sake, but it all feels so fucking good- risky yet new, so you can’t help but to feed into temptation.

Sadly, your body denies it, for now at least. “N-No I can't. Not anymore.”

His action comes to a halt. “I know. Maybe next time, kitty.”

And he disappears once again.

Disappointment and guilt builds all too quickly.

Disappointed that he didn’t stay and fuck you until you passed out. And guilt that you just came in the eyes of another man and on his call.

—-

As expected, you spend your whole day off thinking about the stranger. The way he looks at you, the way he bites his bottom lip while taking you in. The way he grips your hair and clenches his sharp, symmetrical jawline when he has you falling apart in his hands. You could feel his touch, it’s impossible you know, but it all feels too real and it all happens so fast.

He had a name now. He told you in one of your dreams while he was taking you from behind.

“Say my name kitten. Who’s fucking you this good? Fuck, what a sight from behind. You’re just perfect all around, aren’t you?” Hoseok’s hands grip onto your ass cheeks, fucking into your pussy brutally. He hasn’t stopped pounding into you and it’s already been ten minutes. Maybe more? Maybe less? You stopped counting. Good dick leaves you feeling stupid.

“H-Hoseok.” You whimper into your pillow, you think you have officially lost your fucking mind.

“What?” You swear you can hear the smirk on his lips.

“Hoseok.” You’re louder this time, but your voice is muffled, face falling into your pillow.

“Louder slut!” There’s a sting on your ass and he has a fistful of your hair, lifting your face from up the pillow while he continues to ram into you from behind. You realize you are so fucking close and he knows it too, you try to meet his strong thrusts, but it’s no use because it knocks the air from under you. He manages to hold you up with a strong grip. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight around me, kitty. You gonna come on my dick now like a good slut? Huh?”

“Yes!” This time your voice is loud and you scream without holding back. “Hoseok! Hoseok! Oh, nghh… fuck, Hoseok!”

His name falls from your lips over and over while you come on his cock, just like he asked of you. That satisfies him enough and he squirts his own orgasm all over your plump ass, watching you come down from your own afterglow.

You had come to the fucked conclusion that the only way to possibly fucking fix something like this (as sick as it may sound) is to fuck it away. You had to tell Namjoon, maybe experiment a bit more just so you can finally get this man out of your head. Regain your peace of mind. Namjoon would do anything you’d ask of him, you could assure that. You just had to find a way to tell him so he wouldn’t feel it was his fault or as if he was lacking. Or you could just not tell him.

Either way you think fucking this away would help for the time being at least.

Sex is a very special and intimate practice and that’s genuinely how it always felt with Namjoon. He always took his time with you and fucked you slow and deep.

Before, you will admit that it was nice and that’s why he attracted you so much but now, you don’t want it to be nice or slow. You want someone to play rough, break your limits, and touch you in places you haven’t been touched before. You want to be tossed around, fucked until you can’t speak any coherent sentences. Was that just too much to ask for?

(Hoseok sure didn't think so.)

Right as you had finished cooking dinner, Namjoon made his way through the front door, setting his work bag down by the coat rack.

“You’re cooking?” Namjoon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Smells good.”

“Yeah, I figured you deserved a nice meal to come home to. I didn’t have much else to do.” You swiftly kiss him back.

Namjoon pulls you in closer, arms holding you tightly. He still smells as fresh as he did when he first left. “I told you to rest, my love. You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I know, I know. I really wanted to though. Let’s just eat, we'll talk after.” He nods and kisses your cheek once more.

“Let's eat then.”

…

Namjoon decides a movie night is needed on a night like tonight.

You were more clingy than usual (and of course, he loves it). So he puts on a random movie and allows you to cuddle him up to the fullest of your extent.

“You’re so cuddly today, my love.” Namjoon whispers into your hair, mid-movie.

“I just missed you is all.” And you really did, it's been long since you and Namjoon had an intimate night (maybe since these dreams started), you think it's finally time.

He smiles rubbing his hand down your arm. “I missed you too honey.”

You lift your head from his chest and lean in slowly, he immediately picks up on the drift and leans down to meet your lips.

His lips are soft against yours, kissing you with gentle movements. His palm comes to rest on your cheek while you escalate the kiss.

Your tongue comes up slowly and he lets you in quite easily. You take a hand and rake it down his chest, pulling yourself on his lap carefully.

You start to slowly whine your hips, making it all too obvious about what you need and want. Namjoon follows along without complaints.

“Do you wanna?” Namjoon asks, a bit breathless, bringing his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”

Namjoon smiles and steals one last kiss before he attempts to stand, thinking it would be best to move this to the bed, but you hold him down with a shove to his abdomen.

“No. I want it, right here.” You say, finding yourself a little breathless yourself, you needed this.

His eyes seem to widen for the moment, but he seems to agree and pulls you back in for a kiss, this time he lets his tongue push into your mouth further exploring. He tastes the sweet tang of red wine on your tongue and he groans into the kiss.

You pull back only for a second as you get rid of your shirt and he starts to unbutton his own. Once the shirts are off, you tug your bra off freeing your breast and bring your lips back together with great force.

Though he doesn’t complain, Namjoon is in shock. He hasn’t seen you this needy and desperate in years, he thinks? Or at least he doesn’t remember it like that. He lets you rut against his already hard member and kisses you with equal passion.

The next time he pulls away, he tugs on your leggings and he helps you out of them. Typically your panties come down with it, but you decide you’ll just push them aside. You return the offer by pushing his jeans down, including his briefs, his dick slaps against his stomach weighing heavy.

Your mouth instantly waters, but right now you want him inside the rest will just have to come another time.

Namjoon looks at you with so much love and admiration and for a minute, the guilt comes crashing down. You want him, you know you do so why is the guilt still there? Is it because even as you have your lover right where you want him all you can think about is how the stranger (Hoseok) from your dreams would have had you flipped onto the couch and had his way with you hours ago. Maybe he would have fucked you against the kitchen counter, defile the damn marble. Maybe he would have taken you right against your front door, like the slut you wanted to be for him. All you know for sure is he wouldn’t have let this much time pass.

You shake your stupid thoughts away and look back up at your fiancé. This is where you want to be. Where you fucking belong. Without letting your imagination run wild, you rub yourself against Namjoon’s hard length, spreading your arousal all over him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” He bites a moan back, feeling your warm juices, slicken his cock.

You moan against his mouth when you feel the tip latch on to your hole, slowly sinking down on him. You feel his cock stretch your warm walls and he feels he could come already. It's just been so long (can anyone really blame him).

You bring your hips up a bit before crashing back down feeling the burn on your tight heat.

“So warm and tight baby.” His hands land on your hips, toying with the band of your panties. “Come here.”

Namjoon brings you flush against his chest slowing your movement, his lips crash into yours. The kiss feels much different from before. He doesn’t hold back, as soon as your tongue clashes with his, he sucks and bites it playfully. You groan into his mouth, accidentally squeezing harder against his length.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” His dick twitches deeply against your velvety walls, you can tell he’s holding back. “I think I’ll come soon if you continue like this.”

Like hell, you’ll let him come now, you’ve barely had your fill. Without no desire to, you slowly slide off his dick, dropping knees first onto the cold floor below you.

“Baby–” Namjoon starts, but you push his hands away as he tries to pull you back up.

“Let me do this, you’ll last longer.” He hesitates, but eventually surrenders, laying his hands aside. “Don’t be scared to use your hands, use my mouth, Joonie.”

Fuck. How could his own perfect, sweet wife-to-be sound this seductive? He hasn’t heard you talk this way since college. And it’s been years since that. He thought the years of young, hot sex were over but he’s been wrong all along. His fiancée was the sexiest woman in the world, that he was sure of.

Namjoon’s hands find your hair and push you towards his glistening length. It’s already drying, shame, you thought, let’s keep it warm and wet.

Wrapping hands around it, you take his cock into your mouth, sliding your tongue across the slit, hearing a raspy moan come from Namjoon’s throat. “That’s it baby, God your mouth feels incredible.”

The tip of his cock weighs heavy against your tongue. He’s breathing heavy, while he watches you take him in further. You warm his cock with your mouth just as nicely as when you were on top of him.

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him as far as you could go, hearing his desperate grunts. Namjoon takes a grip of your hair (he’s still very gentle with it and you try not to be disappointed) and pushes you just a bit further, feeling your throat stretch around him. “F-Fuck baby. I really won’t last.”

You tap his thigh and he immediately lets go when he sees your eyes water. You pull off with a pop to catch your breath. “I know.”

Your voice is raspy and it’s the sexiest thing Namjoon has ever heard. And you know exactly how to make this whole situation better. Sometimes, a little whiny purr in your voice is all that’s needed to get exactly what you need. “I just want you to come down my throat. Please, fuck my throat daddy.”

Now if Namjoon wasn’t sure he could bust before, he could definitely nut in your fist right in that instant. Yes, he has a daddy kink, sue him.

“Come here.” Namjoon demands, doesn’t hesitate this time to tug you up a little harder and place you in his lap, before he shoves your back against the couch.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask, but the answer is pretty obvious when you see him line his cock up to your hole.

“Fucking you. I’m gonna come inside you. Don’t worry baby, I won’t stop fucking you until you are statisfied.” It’s like music to your ears, his hard member slaps against your clit before he slowly eases back inside you.

Both moaning at the feeling, he lets you adjust for a few seconds, but you waste no time to wrap your legs around his hips and pull him close.

“Please daddy, just fuck me.” You whine into his ear.

This time Namjoon pulls back and right before he slides out, he slams back in, balls smacking into your ass. He fucks you just like that for a while. He’s fast but skilled, finding your sweet spot quite easily. It reminds you both of older times, when things were much easier, when you were both young and easily influenced.

You moan loudly into his neck, toes curling as he fucks his dick deep inside you. “Right there daddy, please don’t stop.”

Sweat starts forming on his forehead and his hair that had once been held back by gel begins sticking to skin. It isn’t a surprise to feel him thrust harder and faster, his tongue poking at his cheek as he concentrates. “Fuck baby, I really missed fucking you just like this. You feel so tight around me, look so fucking sexy, just like this baby.”

You eat up his praise, biting your bottom lip as you feel the tight grip he has on your hips, drilling into you like he used to. Fuck, maybe you were right. This was exactly what you needed. There’s no Hoseok in your head right now. No unwanted thoughts in your mind. It’s just you and Namjoon. How it always should have been.

A whimper falls between your lips and you feel Namjoon leaving hickey’s around your tits, covering them beautifully with his own little marks.

Your legs start to shake around him, and warmth starts spreading through you quickly. “Daddy— I- I think I’m gonna fucking come.”

Namjoon grunts, mouth around your nipple while he pulls off to speak. “Yeah baby? You wanna come?”

Yes.

No.

Not really.

Preferably you would like him to control your fucking orgasm, flip you around, start pounding into you until you can’t hold yourself together but this will have to do.

“Y-Yeah. I wanna come.”

“Come sweetheart.” It’s not long before you moan sweetly through an orgasm, Namjoon fucks you through it as promised and you feel like you are levitating, he maintains sinful eye contact. His thrust starts to become sloppy and you feel the instant he lets go.

“Inside daddy, inside.” With one final strong stroke, Namjoon comes deep inside you, his breathy moans feel hot against your ear.

There’s a few minutes of heavy breathing, settling into the couch below you. Namjoon’s breaths follow close behind yours, arm tucked below your breasts, he lays behind you.

“You were so wonderful my love, I’m sorry we don’t do that enough.” Namjoon breaks the silence, kissing the side of your head.

For the twentieth time that week, guilt falls heavy onto your chest. You didn’t deserve him, he didn’t deserve this.

“No, don’t apologize Joonie. It’s my fault, really. I’ve just been… out of it. But I feel much better. All thanks to you. Thank you, thank you for everything you do for me and our home.” You start getting emotional, but you don't let your tone waver. You didn’t want him to know.

“You know I’d do it all for you, my love” He whispers into your hair, kissing along the soft skin behind your neck. “I can’t wait to marry you baby.”

There it is again, guilt.

“I know, I know. Me either.”

“I love you.” He doesn't hesitate to remind you sweetly.

It hurts to say it with all that is going through your mind, but you force a reply anyway. “I love you too.”

…

Sleep comes over you quickly that night.

Finally, you had fucked your sweet and loving fiancé and for once, your dreams don’t start off with you fucking yourself into an orgasm.

In fact, you don’t dream, at least you don't recall.

Hoseok immediately knows something is different when he arrives. He doesn’t smell arousal in the air, no this time he can tell you’ve been fucked. He can smell the come leftover deep inside your walls. He’s impressed to say the least.

He watches your chest rise and fall, a small pout framing on your lips. You sleep beautifully, he thinks you will look even better after he’s done with you for today.

With careful steps, he makes his way to the end of your bed, you jerk your arm so suddenly in your sleep and he holds back a laugh. He’s quiet when he sits besides your sleeping head, gentle fingers run through your hair.

“Mm.” You hum sweetly in your sleep, molding against his touch, thinking it was your husband-to-be playing with your hair like he normally does.

Before you hear him say, “someone had a good night. Isn’t that right kitten?”

Your eyes widen, nearly jumping out of bed, but Hoseok’s hands stop you from moving. “It’s just me baby.”

“H-How?” Your voice is raspy with sleep. “You were supposed to be gone.”

Hoseok smiles wide, hand still caressing the back of your head. “Did you really think that would happen, kitten?”

“Yes.”

“You let him fuck you.” He says like he knows for sure it's a fact. He doesn’t look too happy about it and your deafening silence answers his unspoken question. He pats your cheek. “Naughty kitty.”

You gulp, his pretty hand wrapping around your throat as he asks the next question. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie and he knows it too.

“Yeah? He fuck you better than me?” You gulp again.

“Yes.” No.

“Why do you lie to me, kitten?” His eyes flash red (they don’t), but the look he gives you is enough to warn you. Things are about to get serious so fast. “I know everything.”

You know that saying people say about fucking around and finding out. You were about to fuck around and find out real fucking fast that Hoseok doesn’t play with his toy.

“Then what the fuck are you going to do about it, huh?” The only warning you get is Hoseok’s smile and then he’s fisting your hair tightly. Jawline clenched, watching as his eyes hood and darken.

“Fuck yourself open, you slut.” He drops the grip on your hair and stands, serious look on his face, he’s not fucking around at all tonight. His hands are quick, tugging his belt off. “Make it quick.”

When he sees you still haven’t moved, a warning comes to you by a strong fistful of hair, shoving you so closely against his face. His breath hits yours, but your lips don’t touch, even though they are so fucking close. You’re tempted to steal a kiss from those soft looking lips, but you’ve acted up enough. “I said, fuck yourself open.”

He drops his grip, letting your head fall into the mattress. Hoseok’s voice is strong and demanding so you stop fucking around and pull the sheets off your body. His eyes fall on your breasts, they are covered in hickey’s freshly made by Namjoon and he tries not to let that affect him. But damn him, he wishes it was him instead. He knows you would never sleep unsatisfied. He would always make sure you slept fucked and sated. Even if that meant, falling asleep on his cock.

There’s a slight burn when your finger finds its way to your pussy. Namjoon did a number on you, but it makes it easier to fuck yourself open. His come still settling deep inside you.

Hoseok has his shirt off now and he tugs his briefs and pants down all at once, his cock springs out, looking delicious as ever. You hear a dark chuckle behind you. “Uh-uh, wrong hole kitty, I’m fucking that ass tonight.”

You whimper when his hand comes to stop your movements.

“I’m not fucking that dirty hole. Turn around. I wanna see you from behind.” He’s not putting it up for question. You push yourself up on your knees and fall back against the bed, lifting your ass towards his direction.

He curses behind you and smacks your ass. Leaving a red hand mark behind, it almost is as pretty as your face. “Fuck kitten, you really are pretty all around. Fuck that hole open for me.”

You feel spit hit your hole and your index finger rubs his saliva around your rim. Your chest is heavy, this time for different reasons, you are completely breathless.

You can’t see Hoseok, but you hear as he opens the drawer beside your bed, it’s where you kept all your toys and lube. You are a finger-deep inside your ass when you hear the lube cap open, Hoseok is kind enough to warm the lube a bit between his fingers before he rubs against your rim and finger. He lets a bit of the lube dribble down your ass cheeks. Hoseok likes it a bit messy and wet. He clicks it close and tosses it besides you.

“My perfect submissive slut.” He whispers, hands settling on your ass as you finger yourself open with two fingers now, the burn hurts but it feels so damn good. Namjoon has never fucked your ass, but it has always been one of your sexual desires. Nothing could ever compare to an orgasm through anal and Hoseok has taught you a lot about that.

Another glob of spit hits your rim and you feel him squeeze a finger in. The burn of three fingers tear through you, moaning into the sheets. “Mm, fuck.”

He grins watching you hold back moans, biting your lips hard.

“Maybe I should punish you tonight.” He suggests, still fucking his finger in your ass alongside your own. “If you come like this I’ll let you suck my dick if I’m still feeling nice.”

You complain, turning around to face him, back still arched. “No… please, please Hoseok. F-Fuck me. Fuck my ass.”

“No.” He’s cold like usual and you know he won’t budge so it's no use.

“But I-I’ve been waiting patiently. I thought all day about you.” It almost sounds like a purr and Hoseok loves it, spanking the fat in your hips this time with an unoccupied hand. His finger is still deep inside your ass and doesn’t let down.

“Yeah? Tell me about that.” He starts to jerk himself off in the process, the leftover lube in his fingers makes the slide easier, his tongue wets his lips while he maintains eye contact.

Your cheeks are burning but you continue, “I thought about your huge cock splitting me open. Forcing me to take you e-even when I can’t anymore. I thought about you spitting into my messy hole like you always do. I thought about you fucking me open against the door. Even the kitchen counter. All day, I’ve missed you all day.”

This seems to satisfy him enough so he plays nice. “Turn over. On your back. Show me those tits.”

He pulls his finger out slowly and you miss it immediately but you listen, your own fingers slide out as you turn around for him. His knees hit the bed pulling your thighs apart as he falls between them, his arm falling beside your head. He’s still fisting his hard length, watching your tits rise and fall as you breathe.

His tongue comes out and licks around your breasts purposely avoiding your nipple. “You let him mark you.”

“He’s my husband-to-be.” You answer, holding back a moan when he sucks on your skin, gentle enough not to make any marks. “Of course, I did.”

“Mm.” He hums into your skin, it vibrates and your pussy responds to this, leaking arousal into the sheets. “What else did you let him do, kitten?”

“He fucked me.” You whisper, practically vibrating below him.

“Oh I know that. I smell it.” He looks like he wants to laugh, but instead continues sucking around your other breast, giving both tits the attention they deserve.

“Squeeze them together.” He orders and you listen quickly. His tongue slides and sucks between them, still avoiding your nipples and it drives you insane. You want to feel him.

“Please.” Your voice is weak.

“Please what?” He asks, looking up dumbfounded, but he knows exactly what you want. He’s making you work for it. “Tell me kitten. What do you want?”

“Y-Your mouth.” You struggle.

“Where?” He breathes out, right on top of your nipple, tongue nearly sliding against it.

“R-Right there.” Your eyes never move.

You watch as he sticks his long, pink tongue out and very slowly licks your already hardened nipple.

“Here?” He asks between his own breaths and you moan softly, sounding sweet against his ears.

“Yes.” You whisper-moan.

He drops his cock, letting it hit your cunt while he starts to suck on your nipples like they deserve. There’s nothing sweet and gentle about this. It’s like he wants to replace Namjoon’s love bites and leave you with his own.

He switches off onto the previous breast and his hand comes to play with your other breast while he attends to the new one. He licks and sucks harshly, bruising your tender skin. You writhe against him, pussy brushing along his cock, but his hand comes to halt your actions quickly with a strong grip on your hip.

“Be good, slut.” Is all he says before he continues marking your breasts and you can’t do a single thing, but moan and whine underneath him, feeling empty. The memory of Namjoon is long forgotten.

Once Hoseok is satisfied with his work. He grins and pulls away. He grabs the bottle of lube beside you and lathers his cock in it. “Should I fuck you now?”

You are quick to nod and you feel bubbly.

Finally.

“Yeah? You think you deserve it?” He tempts and teases, his lubed fingers touch your chin and you open with ease, taking all three fingers he offers you inside your mouth. You suck hard and watch him bite his lip.

You moan around his fingers, his other hand gripping his slicken cock and you feel it catch around your rim.

“Beg for it, slut.” He slides his fingers out, saliva drips down your chin, you probably look a mess but you don't even care anymore. The sinful desire and lust is ten times worse than any other feeling.

“Please, Hoseok. Please.” You beg. “I’d do anything. Anything.”

He sees red for two seconds and then he says. “Then keep your legs open for me. Try to stay awake. Don’t disappoint me this time, kitten.”

There’s no warning for when he plunges his hard length inside your slicked rim. You know he won’t be going anywhere near your pussy, keeping his promise. You didn’t deserve it. You let someone else use your hole and now he’s punishing you.

“Oh. My. God.” You moan, it fucking burns, but soon his thrusts turn into pleasure and his cock brushes your sweet spot. It’s like he’s known you all your life, knowing the exact way to tear you apart, piece by piece.

“Ghost actually, not God, but I’ve met him. He’s not the sweet and forgiving man everyone mentions he is.” Hoseok says this all while buried deep between your ass cheeks and you would actually laugh about this if the situation was different, but instead you moan and clench around him feeling his balls slap faster against your ass. “That’s it kitten, lose your fucking mind.”

And that is exactly what you do.

Hoseok continues ramming his hips into yours for a few minutes, you aren’t speaking clearly anymore so he doesn’t understand a word you tell him, all he knows is that you must be feeling fucking ecstasy by the way you roll your eyes and yell moans.

His hands grip your hips and he comes to a stop. “Face down. Ass up. I wanna see that ass while I pound it from behind.”

You don’t reply to him, but you seem to understand. With weak movements, you move and nearly fall face first into the bed, weak limbs. You don’t even have the strength to hold yourself together anymore. Hoseok is kind enough to help though, he places a pillow below your hips, just high enough so he can slide right back inside your tight ass.

He hears your muffled moans against your bedsheets, watching you weakly grip them.

“Such a nice ass. It’s a shame really.” Your ass bounces while he mounts you from behind, it’s fast but precise, hitting your walls just right at every harsh thrust.

“W-What is?” He barely hears you reply.

“That this ass isn’t played with enough and soon I’ll just be a fidget of your imagination. You’ll forget I ever existed and you’ll never, ever receive the sexual satifisation you deserve. But maybe, one day, when it’s your turn to go, you’ll meet me in the after-life and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed this sweet ass.” The ghost’s voice almost sounds sad and you freeze. You don’t want this to end. No.

“T-Then don’t stop fucking me. Keep me here forever.” You whisper frantically, breath hot and heavy.

“Oh trust me baby, I would if I could. For now, I won’t stop. Stay awake, kitten.” You don’t even notice you are falling unconscious, the stretch and burn of his cock is exhausting and your ass takes him greedily, but his words wake you.

He grips the side of your hips, pressing his thumbs into your back as he sets a faster pace. Slamming and ramming his dick deep within you. The moans and gasps that slip from your mouth sound so pretty, God he really wishes it would never fucking end, but he feels you slipping between his hands already.

What the fuck can he do?

Hoseok is close himself, how could he not be? He’s been practically edging himself for hours and now that he has such a juicy ass at hand, with the most perfect woman he has ever seen, he could practically come inside your velvet walls right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse and moan below him, you tremple and shake, the knot inside your stomach is barely holding up. “‘M so close.”

He nods, forgets you can’t see him. He harshly tugs you around, still quite limp and weak between his arms. “Wanna see that face when you come on my cock.”

He plunges back inside, lips close to yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. And then you realize, he hasn’t kissed you. This entire time. He’s fucked you religiuosly for weeks on end and you don’t even know what those heart-shaped lips taste like against yours. Would they be as sweet as they look? Would he kiss you gently or would he be harsh and rough like the way he fucks? You wonder about it all at once and it makes you sad for a moment. You want a kiss. Why wouldn’t he kiss you?

“Kiss me.” You breathe out, he’s grunting above your mouth still fucking you nice and deep. You are beyond positive you won’t be able to move your ass tomorrow but it’s worth it, it’s always worth it.

He looks up and then looks back down, concentrating on his thrust, you moan but hold your ground.

“Please. Kiss me.” You whisper, gasping when you feel the knot start to come undone. He knows you’re about to let go and this only drives him to bottom out faster and quicker. Skin smacking quickly against skin. Your asshole has been shaped and molded just for him. You’re loving every second of it, but he still hasn’t kissed you.

Why?

Your arms weakly wrap around his shoulders, he breathes heavy and hot against your ear now. It’s messy, sweaty and his touch is usually rough, but it feels awfully gentle now. He’s still rough inside your soft walls, but something’s changed.

“Hoseok.” You breathe, you’re so sad.

He hums against your neck, avoiding your eyes.

“Kiss me.” You plead again, he kissed your neck so softly, balls smacking harder and faster against your ass. “No, my lips.”

“Goodnight, kitten.” He whispers sounding sad into your ear before he lifts his face from your neck and those heart-shaped lips touch your softly, it’s almost sweet. You come undone as soon as you feel the touch of his magical lips and you swear you feel him come deep inside you.

It all disappears though.

“Honey?” This time it's Namjoon, hand already around your waist. “You okay? Was it another nightmare?”

A tear falls down your face and Namjoon awes, bringing you into his warm embrace. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”

Why are you crying?

And where is Hoseok?

“I am too.” You simply say, crying harshly into his shoulder.

Hoseok watches the scene unfold from afar. He wishes you could feel the ache you’ve left him behind too and there isn’t a damn thing he could do but wait.

“See you in the after-life kitten. There I’ll spoil you with all the kisses you deserve.”

You don’t hear him, but he knows he means well. Hoseok walks away permanently this time, he’s lost the feeling of his heart long ago, but he feels heavy-hearted and continues on his way to his next victim.

Until next time.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #hoseok smut #hoseok x y/n #hoseok scenarios #hoseok fic #hoseok angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #bts angst

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amuromi · 8 months ago

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★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 9.1k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ SFW! heian era!au, concubine!reader, true form!Sukuna, established relationship (married), major character death, canon typical violence, era typical misogyny/gender roles, unhealthy obsession, mentions of death, mentions of cannibalism and blood, (Sukuna is a lunatic), Sukuna is referred to exclusively as “Lord Sukuna”

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ The canon will begin to matter less and less as this story goes on it seems, but it will all make sense I swear!

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

There are two bodies to burn. The sparse tinder is laid by careful hands. In the deep cold of winter the earth has so few things to spare, only the thin branches of a fledgling tree bowed over by the blistering wind. The wood is dead and brittle, splintering like breaking bones where it’s been bent into curving shapes. Tied with twine in a braided wreath of ashen wood to surround First Mistress’ body. She’s laid over a fine fur in her most sumptuous clothes and most lustrous jewels, the broken parts of her carefully placed where they’re meant to be attached to her body. Beneath her clothes, parts of Jurina are missing. A bit of flesh flayed from her ribs, a gouge taken out of her thigh. There’s a thin square of white silk laid over her face, hiding the claw masks and the fissure where her head was nearly torn from her body. The wound flutters in and out of sight as the wind stirs the edge of the white sheet, flashing the curving groove where Lord Sukuna fit his teeth into her flesh and tore.

The fire catches quickly after the priests say their rites, burrowing like red mice through the wood. Burning tongues leapt from wood to fabric, outfitting Jurina’s body in a brilliant, golden shroud for only a moment before her clothes are burning away and the fire takes to skin. The perfumed wood dampens the scent of burning flesh but it will soon become overpowering as the small crowd gathers to pay their respects before the pyre. There’s weeping for mistress and servant alike as Jurina’s personal maid chose to continue serving her in the afterlife. There was little attention given to her body. She’s simply laid beside Jurina with her collar of bruises from the white silk that had choked the life from her throat. Her name escapes you and you wonder if she has a family that needs to be informed of their loss. A raven was already sent out by Uraume to inform Jurina’s clan of her demise at the hands of the King of Curses.

It’s your hope that Uraume elected to omit the extent of the damage done to Jurina’s body so that her family might have some peace in their ignorance. The winter winds snuff out lives like blowing out candles, ravaging weaker bodies with boiling fevers and gasping coughs that never seem to pass. It’s just the right season for pneumonia and illnesses of that ilk. Let them think that she went with some semblance of peace. It’s a selfish sort of wish as you watch the snow hiss and turn to steam over Jurina’s funeral pyre. It would absolve you of blame, remove the hand you had in her death with your careless words. Poisonous tongue spelling out her death. She’d been staring at you when she died, or perhaps she was dead before her glassy eyes rolled towards you standing at the edge of the engawa, snow dotting your lashes and melting into moisture when the tears wouldn’t come. You hadn’t wanted her death but you can’t find it in yourself to be saddened by the loss.

Even so, you clasp your hands in prayer along with the remaining Mistresses. Still three despite Fourth Mistress’ arrival. Now Second Mistress is the wife with the most seniority and yet she stands to your right, a subtle show of deference that hadn’t been there only so many hours before. The night has stretched on for a small eternity, bleeding into daylight without reprieve as the household scrambled to deal with Jurina’s death. Messengers were sent out in the waning storm to fetch priests from the village, servants were dispatched to clean Jurina’s chamber and erect a platform for her to be burned upon. Tatami mats were changed and floors were scrubbed. The blood soaked courtyard has been renewed with another layer of downy snow to cover the splatters of blood where Lord Sukuna dragged Jurina outside to make a spectacle of her death. He tore at her with a deranged sort of satisfaction, grinning when he saw you watching, as if he’d only been waiting for a moment to tear her apart. She burst open between his teeth and claws like a ripe fruit, spilling across the snow in a brilliant spray of crimson. And all you did was watch, trying to remind yourself that Jurina wasn’t like you. She was still human in a way that you weren’t.

Her dedication was to herself above all else, perhaps her clan came second. Lord Sukuna wasn’t a priority in her mind. Her world was vast, reaching far beyond the bounds of the Ryomen estate. During meals she would tut over letters she received from her clan, bemoaning the poor marriage of a cousin or cooing over the news of a new baby. She needled the servants for gossip whenever they returned from an errand outside the estate. Jurina was just a woman and she died as a woman would at the hands of a being like Lord Sukuna; screaming. She’ll be happy to know that he isn’t in attendance to watch her flesh and bones be rendered to ash, her favorite maid beside her. When the smoke clears they’ll be swept into urns or perhaps tossed out with the dirt swept off the engawa. It’s your hope that she’ll be sent home. It’s clear she never belonged here and it would be cruel for this forbidden corner of the world to be her final resting place.

There’s also a piece of you that thinks she doesn’t deserve the honor of being laid to rest here. Though you suppose decisions like this will be left up to you now that there is no First Mistress to lead the household. Lord Sukuna has made it plainly clear that those responsibilities and honors are now yours. So when a servant comes to ask what should be done when the fire is quelled you send them to find some proper urns of expensive material for Jurina and her maid to be gathered in before being sent off. It doesn’t escape your notice that the servant stopped quite a ways away from you. In fact everyone seems to be giving you a breadth that borders on excessive. As if so much as breathing a breath of air that passed through your lungs will have their body burning next. Everyone that already treated you like a piece of glass is suddenly too fearful to even raise their head in your presence. It’s only Uraume that speaks to you as they had hours ago, entering your chamber with only the lightest knock on the shoji. They find you plucking tunelessly at the strings of your koto with only candlelight as your company.

The midday sky is gray and dim, still choked with the clouds of the breaking storm. Dull light bleeds through the thick paper of the shoji leading outside. The faintest firelight as Jurina continues to burn.

“Have you slept?” Uraume asks, coming to sit beside you. You haven’t. There’d been no time to sleep. Hours have passed since Lord Sukuna returned home, since he took you in the bathhouse, since he tore Jurina apart. Hours spent making arrangements and delegating tasks so that this funeral could be held in a timely manner. It’s doubtless that if Lord Sukuna had presided over the proceedings he would’ve simply sent Jurina to the kitchen and used her bones to pick his teeth when he was through with the meal. It would’ve been an honor to be so wholly consumed by her husband but Jurina likely wouldn’t have seen it as the blessing it was. To be so desired that Lord Sukuna wanted to devour every bit of her. To use her body as a means to bolster his own. A shiver trickles down your back as Uraume gathers your hair to comb, the chill of their skin cutting deep.

“The raven you sent to her family… Did you say how she died?” You ask carefully.

“She died serving her king.” They say evenly. Of all the people bowing to your lord husband, it is only Uraume that understands you completely. The servants were wailing and whispering about the cruelty of their lord but what cruelty was there? A doll doesn’t despair when the owner breaks it. Jurina’s porcelain face was cracked and her straw body torn open, but what higher purpose is there than to serve the whims of something greater than yourself? Jurina was ill fit to be Lord Sukuna’s wife. She didn’t understand duty or sacrifice. She didn’t understand her place beneath him. Not in the way that you did. A flower doesn’t question the might of a tree nor the warmth of the sun.

“How do you feel?” Uraume asks, leaning closer than any servant would dare. If they were anyone else, you might stifle at the audacity, but it feels as though the two of you are cut from the same cloth. As Lord Sukuna’s wife, you are an extension of his being. And no one would dare to touch him so intimately without permission. No one except Uraume. They chuckle and ask, “Are you happy?”

“I’m happy. Always.” The feeling is innate. Whether Jurina lived or died, your happiness would remain the same. There’s no great pleasure taken in her demise, nor is there the pang of loss. It feels like something akin to relief. A thorn finally removed from your skin. The itching, burning sting of her presence has been removed at last and you’ll only be strengthened by it. It’s already begun. The servants had come to you for guidance once the house physician had declared Jurina dead. There was no need for the commotion of an official declaration. She looked like a butchered animal by the end. And when the fire dies, nothing will be left of her but ash and memories. She’ll be swept up and sent away, forgotten with the melting snow.

“Did Jurina serve her purpose? Truly?”

“No,” Uraume answers without hesitation. “I don’t think any of Lord Sukuna’s wives have served their purpose. Certainly none more so than you, sweet girl.” There were never any honorifics between you and Uraume, at least not in private. They saw you as an equal, perfectly matched in your standing with Lord Sukuna.

It feels like an honor you’ve yet to earn. Uraume would wage war for your lord husband. You could do no such thing. Even with your cursed technique, you’d be useless in battle. Uraume was lethal, a blade in Lord Sukuna’s hand where you were simply a plucked flower. A blade can be sharpened and polished, but sooner or later a flower would wilt and wither, and your time as a person of importance would pass. Whether it be by death or age, you’d soon be without purpose and Lord Sukuna would likely do away with you as he had Jurina. You can only hope he’ll honor you with consumption. To know that, even in death, you’d been of some minuscule use would soothe your soul.

Sometimes you find yourself wondering if you’d become a curse, though the only thing worth cursing in this life would be Lord Sukuna. It wouldn’t be so unimaginable that you’d cling to your lord husband even after death. You pledged yourself to him in this life and the next. To go to a place where he cannot follow would be to abandon your vows. And you’d loath to be an unfaithful wife.

“You’re tired,” Uraume said, though you hadn’t acknowledged the lethargy yourself. They finish the careful task of combing through the last section of your hair before urging you to lay down.

“Shall I prepare your tea?” You shake your head. It’s become a nightly ritual to have tea before you sleep, but there is no strength left in your body to wait for Uraume to prepare it. Usually the task was left to your personal maid but she is nowhere to be found. Uraume has made the offer but you imagine it to be a simple courtesy rather than a genuine offer. They aren’t your servant to be ordering about. That honor is reserved solely for your lord husband no matter if they offered the service themselves.

“Sleep for now,” they hum, “I’ll wake you if there is a need for your presence.” Which is to say, if Lord Sukuna calls for you. No other task would be worthy of rousing you from your rest. They tuck you into your futon and blow out each candle before leaving you alone in the darkness. There’s still the faint flickering of the pyre crackling in the courtyard, but it’s easily ignored as fatigue settles over you.

It seems as though no time has passed at all when you rouse to wakefulness, yet you feel perfectly rested. The light slipping in from outside is that same pale orange glow that sent you to sleep; reminiscent of firelight, yet there is no crackling of burning wood and smoldering flesh. Instead there’s the faint whistling call of the wind and the strangest sound of scratching. At first you imagine it to be a wayward branch scraping against the eaves or the sound of geta scuffing against the wooden walkway. But the sound is too close, too concise to be an untrimmed tree or heavy-footed servant. It was closer to the sound of woodwork. The same noise that preceded Jurina’s pyre as branches were cut and stripped of the snow-sodden bark so the fire would not pittle and hiss over damp wood. The faint whittling noise comes from outside. The sound of scratching sounds nearer still.

In the gray-gold light, you see the edge of something shift like a shadow dancing between flickering candlelight. But there are no candles burning. No shadows dancing. The shape in the corner of your room seems far more tangible than any trick of the light. It twitches and writhes like an overturned beetle, wriggling between the seam of the adjacent walls like water leaking through a crack.

Waves of cursed energy surge from the corner like miasma, permeating the room. The scent of it stings your nose and clings to your tongue with the acidity of poison. The curse moans deep and haunting. An almost lyrical sound, as if a dozen voices are folding over each other, like plucking every string of a koto at once. A discordant whimpering undercut by the sound of digging and clawing as it peels away the planks of wood to make space for itself. The walls begin to squeal and splinter, tearing away to allow the winter morning and the curse inside.

Its bulging eyes wriggle, protruding like those of a frog, and twitching as though it’s a hardship to focus them both so singularly on something. One arm falls away from its scratching and three more follow. The weight of each limb hitting the floor sounds much like a bag of peaches tumbling in a cart. It twitches, body contacting inward until it’s a thick bulging ball of pale flesh before it flattens and drags itself forward on its four arms. It moans again, bearing its long, blunt teeth. Again, it moans, and you think you hear the number three. Then again with more clarity,

“Three, three, three.” It whimpers ceaselessly as it drags its bulging body towards you. Its skin is shapeless and loose like a boiled dumpling, contracting into a thick mass before stretching thin as it drags itself towards you with the agility of a caterpillar. Its face is snow white with red horns peeking out from beneath a hood of pale flesh. For a moment, you consider a monster trying to hide its true face, laughing at the absurdity of it. The sound of hysteria bubbles from your lips louder than any other had, and it only seemed to incense the creature. It dragged itself closer with more ferocity. The moaning chant of “three, three, three,” only gets louder.

When it’s close enough, it slashes at you, slow and clumsy like a child playing swords with a stick. The morning chill overtakes you as you leap from the futon in a cloud of silk and fur. The curse hisses, then tries again, and when it misses once more the noise it makes is something like a wail. It sounds far too anguished, far too human. The sound sinks beneath your skin, deep enough to rattle your heart and you shiver in your hakama. Your own voice is lost somewhere in your throat, tangled between your quickened breaths and thundering heartbeat.

Curses aren’t meant to speak, they’re incapable of it. And yet this one reaches towards you with taloned fingers, groaning “three, three, three.”

It lumbers through the room, weight knocking over side tables. It swings its thick arms, claws grasping to rend your flesh from your bone as it chases you. Needles prick at the soles of your feet as you stumble through the hole torn through the wall, splinters of wood stippling through your socks as the curse herds you onto the engawa. The prickling of wood shards gives way to something wet, though far too warm to be ice melting off the eaves. Your eyes are far too intent on the creature dragging itself out of the hole it burrowed into your room to spare a glance at the ground, and you go from staring at the pale creature to looking up at the light sky.

The cold is immediately, stabbing into you like a dozen blades as snow clouds your lashes. A cloud of it drifts down around you, stirred through the air as you land. Gray clouds roll by overhead as you make a wheezing noise. The air rattle inside your lungs as you try to regain the breath that had been knocked from your chest in the fall from the engawa. It hadn’t been a far drop but you hardly had breath in your lungs to start, too startled to take more than shallow gasps of air. The curse comes poking over the edge of the walkway, tossing itself into the snow beside you.

“Get back.” Your voice is as thin as the wind whistling through the courtyard. “Stay away from me.” The curse wails again. Deeper as if it meant to give the toneless sound meaning. “Three, three, THREE!” It says it as if it’s your name, reaching towards you through the snow. Belatedly, you realize that it is your name. You are Third Mistress. Third, Three. The curse bellows the word again, moving like a slug through mud as it drags its malformed body through the bank of snow. Still on your back, steeped in the chill seeping through your thin robe, you watch as the curse reaches towards you with grasping claws. There’s a pondering to your gaze as your eyes watch the dull glint of the morning light wink off the edge of its claws. Jurina had always been so preoccupied with her perfect nails. A talon finds your cheek, scratching a burning line across your face before the connected limb bursts like a crushed melon.

Hot viscera replaces the frigid kiss of the wind as bright purple blood and bits of white flesh rain down over your face. It’s nearly warm enough to scald, made worse by the shrieks of pain ringing in your ears as the curse writhes in the snow. Clouds of frost dance around its wriggling body though it doesn’t seem to move far. With muscles tensed and shivering, you shove yourself onto your elbows to see over the veil of churning snow. The curse is pinned to the ground with spears of ice. Wailing and thrashing to be free. The stump of its arm still reaches for you, joined by the three that remain. You find your knees, then slowly your feet, only to be knocked into the snow once more as a pillar of ice shatters and a flailing hand reaches towards you in another spray of violet blood. The feeling burns hot as fire, spreading through your body like sparks through a dry brush. Warmth blooms through your side, seeping over your hip and down the length of your thigh as blood weeps from the wound torn through your side.

The feeling of warmth blooms between your fingers as you press your hands against the gouge taken from your torso. It’s a strange, hollow feeling. As if your body has yet to accept the prospect of pain just yet. It comes in waves, lapping over you in an ebb and flow as your vision begins to swim. Everything is hot as fire and cold as ice. The world looks as though you’re seeing it through a cloud of steam, rippling and fading as you blink through the blood loss. This feeling isn’t new and yet the feeling hasn’t lessened in its intensity. There’s a sound that you find familiar. Frantic and sharp as a bird chirping at the rising sun. It grows colder still, though there’s comfort in the chill as you recognize the shape of arms wrapping around you. It hurts as they squeeze at the hole gaping in your side, still weeping red tears of blood through the silk of your hakama. The chirping turns to feral growls, a wolf bearing its teeth, and the curse wails anew. It sounds like Jurina if only vaguely. Shrill and bitter. The ground had only just been dusted with a cover of snow, hiding the place her blood had been spilled. Now it was your turn.

Dazedly, you blink up towards the sky, lashes shining with tears or melting snowflakes as a face swims through your periphery. The soft chirping returns and you try to piece together the sounds over the weeping curse. A voice that you recognize. It soothes your fluttering heart, lessens the flames still burning where part of your body is missing, and more is still spilling onto the snow. A red puddle blooming over a sea of white. It reminds you of Uraume’s hair, and reminds you that their voice has always been melodic like birdsong. It must be them holding you so gently, speaking soft words to you though your hearing has faded to the sound of your blood and breath, like hiding your head beneath a pillow. Something cold and soft brushes over your face and you imagine it might be the gentle fingers of your protector, but your eyes can’t find anything other than the vaguest shapes.

Everything has melded into a light wash. Gray sky, white snow, ivory-skinned curse. Everything is white until it isn’t. A sudden burst of color as a shade of sunset pink appears overhead. So far above that, for a moment, you truly think it to be the sun. But the sun has no teeth to bare, no eyes to watch those beneath its shining face. But, perhaps, he can be considered your sun as Lord Sukuna sneers at the curse still sniveling a few paces ahead. It’s pinned and bleeding. Pierced with long shards of Uraume’s ice formation. Lord Sukuna’s towering form stoops to look at the creature before his sights are set on you. He reaches out and for a moment you expect the gentility of a caress against your frigid cheek. Instead his hand closes around your neck, choking the last dregs of air from your lungs as he lifts you from Uraume’s arms. His height leaves you dangling far above the ground, legs too numb to kick though you have no reason to protest such rough treatment. Punishment is in order.

How shameful you are. The daughter of an unimpeachable sorcerer clan unable to defend herself. The wife of the King of Curses being maimed by the hands of another. Your life was not for anyone but your lord husband’s to take and yet you feel the familiar feeling of your body giving out. Made worse by the way Lord Sukuna’s fist is closed tight around your throat. Your head feels swollen, vision darkened as the pressure bursts the capillaries in your eyes. Lord Sukuna regards you with vague interests. His four eyes dance over your face, likely taking in the way your lips must be deepening to an asphyxiated blue as the veins in your face lift to the surface of your skin. You can’t bring yourself to fight against him, hands doing little more than holding his wrist as he keeps you aloft with one hand. Another comes to stroke against the wound in your side, claws raking over the ragged flesh. It feels more like pressure than pain as the feeling fades from your body. Lord Sukuna says something but it’s only a dull rumble in your uncomprehending ears. All that’s left is a ringing, then a sound like a branch being torn from a tree. Then nothing.

A lingering hollowness haunts the light floating before your eyes in clouds of flickering red. It burns through your eyelids as your lashes flutter, eyes disobeying your intentions to open them. It feels like pulling a string with no tension and expecting the puppet to move even still. No part of your body wishes to do more than twitch as you claw towards consciousness like climbing a mountain. First your toes begin to move as intended, then your fingers. It feels like filling an empty cup, bit by bit the water rises until it’s spilling over the brim and your eyes flutter open at last.

The warmth of wakefulness is nearly overwhelming. Hot as the stifling heat at the height of summer as your eyes watch the glow of the braziers flickering across the walls. Sweat trickles over your skin beneath the layers of bedding pulled up to your chin, gathering between your breasts and at the nape of your neck. It’s made worse by the tackiness in your throat. It’s hard to swallow as you shift in your nest of blankets, moving with the grace of a newborn fawn. This isn’t the rising from a fitful sleep but the emergence of a newly formed butterfly escaping its cocoon. You move with a practiced delicacy, wings still soft against your back as you strip the layers away from your sweltering skin. How long have you been asleep?

The light blooming outside the shoji gives nothing away. It could be early morning or midday and the faint glow of the winter sun remains the same. You turn away from the doors leading outside and regard the inner shoji with vague interest. There’s faint hints of knowledge in your mind. It drifts just beyond comprehension like fish dancing just below the surface of a pond, bright and fleeting as you try to grasp at the thought that won’t form. The walls around you are unfamiliar yet you can’t be certain of why. The scent in the air is foreign in a way you can’t place. Everything is wrong. A frightening sort of foreignness as you try to rattle any modicum of knowledge loose from the haze of unconsciousness. The tatami is cold underfoot, your bare toes pressing into the woven mats as you wobble towards the door on the tips of your toes. This much you know.

There’s the broadest strokes of understanding. The door slides open when you pull, red light giving way to darkness as the halls stretch out in either direction almost endlessly. The embers burning in the braziers only reach so far into the yawning blackness so you set forward blindly. One hand trails along the left wall, fingertips grazing along the screens painted with falling leaves. The halls twist and turn, darkness fading to gray as your eyes adjust to the sinuous corridors. At each corner you turn left with the vague knowledge that it will eventually lead you somewhere. The last hallway doesn’t end so much as an obstacle appears in your path. A slim figure cuts across your vision, a burning stroke of white standing out in the dimness. Their face is familiar as is the word they whisper into the darkness. The dulcet sound knocks something loose in your head. Your name. As if you’d been underwater since your eyes opened, the broad strokes of knowledge rattling about in your head are slowly refined. Returning to life is always jarring. Without guidance it takes some time for you to realize yourself, to reclaim your memories and mannerisms. Your mother had said you were like a puppet brought to life before your mind returned, always the last thing to heal from the ordeal of death.

“Lord Sukuna will be glad to hear you’ve awakened.”

“How long was I asleep?” A gentle way to ask for how long your body had been dead. Faintly, you remember the wound in your side, Lord Sukuna’s hand about your delicate throat. From the inside of your body, breaking your neck always sounds like a tree being cleaved in two. A thick tearing noise that echoes dully in your ears before the unknown sound of death swallows you. That you never remember. A small miracle considering how often you’ve found yourself being relieved of your life. Drowning, choking, burning. And yet your body mends itself without fail, becoming stronger for the pain you endured. You touch your side and wonder what it will take to pierce the skin there in this lifetime; because there have already been so many.

“A fortnight.” Uraume tells you. Usually a broken neck would not take so long to heal. But the damage is rarely paired with the viscera of a curse attack. It had been a lucky thing that Lord Sukuna had honored you with death at his hands. The first since you’ve entered his household as his third wife. If the curse had taken your life, you imagine there might not have been another life to live. No death had ever come at the hands of a curse or anything imbued with cursed energy. If it can keep a sorcerer from becoming a curse, it can likely keep you from reviving with more strength than before. It would’ve been a great shame to have been killed by a curse when your lord husband was so near. An insult to allow anyone other than him to determine what happens to his wife. His third wife. His favorite wife.

Uraume leads without much grandeur, simply walking a few steps ahead of you. The path becomes clearer now. Still dark and unlit but there’s a familiarity to it that hadn’t been there only moments ago. The air is chilling as Uraume leads the way outside, meandering along the engawa until they jump from the edge, their landing softened by the clouds of snow still blanketing the ground. It seems less than it had been when your eyes had last opened, as if it hadn’t snowed heavily since the night of Jurina’s death. Yet it was still winter and you clutch the folds of your hakama closer around your shoulders as Uraume trails ahead. Clouds like wisps of smoke puff from between your lips as shivers tremble through your renewed body. If they feel the cold, Uraume doesn’t acknowledge it. The cold is something intrinsic to your lord husband’s most favored servant. Even in the height of summer there’s a slight chill to their presence. Likely a consequence of their cursed technique.

Uraume leads the way past the unattached buildings that are only frequented by servants, towards the far bounds of the estate. There’s never been any reason for you to be this far from the main house. You imagine these are places where things you never think of are stored, preserved foods and wagons for trips into town. The armory is the only building you recognize. A haze of cursed energy looms over the building like a shroud. It’s the same for the building that Uraume seems to be leading you towards. The air around it is thick with the presence of great power. Both auras are familiar in different ways. Just as each person seems to carry their own distinct scent, cursed energy has an element of individuality. Even with your eyes closed and ears plugged, you’d know the approach of your lord husband by his cursed energy alone. He is inside. As is another being that you imagine must be the curse that had attacked you. Their energy is recognizable in a fractured way. Like a dream slipping away as soon as you wake.

Uraume announces your arrival as they open the door. The room is bathed in gold, lit by dozens of lanterns all flickering in tandem. The room is modest in size and made smaller by what must be hundreds–if not thousands–of talismans hanging from the walls and ceiling. All in various sizes and written in different hands. Some of the ink has the neatness of a learned scholar while others have the shakiness of illiteracy, though the quality of the script hardly matters to what is written. Each tag holds the power to bind. As do the thickly woven ropes wrapped right around the pale curse that attacked you all those days ago. It gurgles and strains within the ropes hung with more binding talismans, bulging eyes bobbing in its head as it tries to fix its gaze towards the sound of your approach. You hardly notice, eyes fixed on the vision of your lord husband standing over the creature with his spear in hand.

Lord Sukuna takes over your vision, eclipsing everything with his daunting figure. He takes his eyes away from the curse bound at his feet with an unhurried sort of interest, and the weight of his gaze makes you bloom like a flower beneath the kiss of the sun. Red eyes piercing as burning iron stab through you, pinning you in place so absolutely that your knees buckle. He sees the weakness before you can fall and catches you by the waist, pulling you against him. Your eyes fall away from his face, head bowing as you try to find the words to apologize for your mistake; your death. He silences you before you can find enough words to express the deep rooted feeling of inadequacy.

“The misstep has already been punished.” When you dare to look up, Lord Sukuna is looking towards Uraume. With a sharp nod of his head he dismisses his right hand attendant to leave the two of you alone with the curse that tried to take your life, tried to claim something that belongs to your lord husband alone. Not even you have such control of your life. You’ve heard tales of unhappy concubines seeking death in the face of neglect and mistreatment. Though you’ve always found yourself spoiled in your marriage, you can’t imagine that you could ever take your own life even if you were set aside and forgotten. Lord Sukuna will always be your world. The sun doesn’t cease to exist simply because it has set. The darkness of night must be endured to enjoy the light of day. You’ll suffer anything at the hands of your lord husband if it pleases him. Your life is his to manage as he sees fit.

“My Lord,” you try to speak, but you’re silenced once more.

“Don’t start. I’ve already told you you’re forgiven. Besides, words are useless without action. If you truly seek forgiveness then prove it.” He takes his hand away from you and nods towards the curse still squirming in its bonds. Its eyes wheel this way and that until one finally finds its way into a position to see you. The aborted struggles seem to renew with the vigor you’d seen upon its arrival into your chamber. The ropes burn red welts into its pale skin where it writhes and strains, spittle dribbling from its mouth as its empty whining turns to hissing yowls.

“Three, three, three.” The creature spits, straining towards you with the singularity of an arrow launched from a bow. Lord Sukuna stands behind you, a pillar of strength and a post keeping you from turning away. One of his hands finds yours, pressing his spear against your palm. It’s heavy and your arm trembles with the strength it takes to hold it. His intentions are clear. Kill the curse. It takes great strength and both arms to lift Lord Sukuna’s spear. All of your weight pitches forward as you drive the three-pronged blade through the curse’s head. Blood sprouts like a fountain as the creature screams. The sound pierces through your ears, ringing in your head as you drive the weapon further through its head in a rush to silence the noise. It chuffs and squeals, thrashing against the ropes with slowly waning strength until, at last, it goes still and silent.

For a moment the pale lump of bleeding, bulging flesh takes on a shimmery red glow like flames burning within ash and ember. It grows then fades as the creature sags in a haze of dissipating cursed energy. The only movement left is the blood dripping from the spear still lodged in its head, forming a puddle on the dirt floor. Perhaps a flower will sprout from the soil wetted with purple blood though you doubt something so delicate could spring from the death of such a violent creature. Kneeling next to the puddle you touch the spot of dampness and ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue since the curse first spoke.

“Was this First Mistress Jurina?” It had to be. It would explain the vague familiarity about the curse’s energy. Like the scent of someone lingering in their clothes after they’ve worn them, Jurina’s cursed energy tainted the new signature of the cursed spirit. Lord Sukuna barks out a laugh.

“There’s no need to be so respectful of the dead. Jurina is no longer my wife, nor was she ever worth your deference.”

“She was your first wife,” you mumble, lowering your head against the admonishment you expect to meet your stubbornness. It doesn’t come.

“They are wives in name only. Perhaps I laid with them, but there has been no woman above you since we wed.”

The wedding had been something of a formality performed in the absence of your lord husband. The vows had been spoken before your family and the deed was done long before you completed the arduous journey from your home to Lord Sukuna’s estate. You were his wife for some time before you met and, truly, you will be his wife forever. Not even death could sever your allegiance. It makes you wonder if one day you’ll become a curse too. Some amalgamation of your grief and anguish. The dark, rotted feeling of failure as you abandon your lord husband in death. It’s unthinkable when your body has been blessed with such resilience and yet you know that there may come a day when death is no longer like sleep, your eyes will close forever, the butterfly dead at last. It brings a mournful feeling to your heart.

“Would you let me curse you, my lord?” Jurina had become a vengeful spirit fueled by her hatred of you. She’d cursed you in her death and you can only hope to be so attached to your lord husband, even in death. It’s the dividing line between you, the gate guarding you from the rest. In her last moments, Jurina hadn’t been thinking of Lord Sukuna. Her husband, her murderer. Instead he eyes had looked to you and her soul had screamed to tear at you the way Lord Sukuna had shredded through her body. It was with no small amount of pain that Jurina had lost her life and even in the midst of death she had found it in herself to hate you with such passion that it burned even after she died. If she had hatred you wished to burn with love in your afterlife, to be so consumed by the flames of your desire that your essence will cling to Lord Sukuna even in death.

“Would you curse me?” He asks sardonically.

“I think I would.” There’s a bashfulness to your voice as your eyes stay towards the ground, watching Jurina’s purple blood seep into the soil. Lord Sukuna places a finger under your chin, sharpened nail digging into the soft skin beneath your jaw. When your eyes lift towards his face he’s smiling, a stark baring of fanged teeth. He smiles like a wolf and you’re the rabbit a hair’s breadth away from being bitten.

“You’ll have to die first.” His tone is peculiar. There’s a hint of humor though it’s colored with something darker, as if Lord Sukuna is angered by the prospect of you abandoning him in such a way.

“I will someday.” You remind him. Your Chrysalis technique may revive you from traumatic deaths, but a gentle departure, a final breath gasped in the night, is likely to go unrenewed. A winter frost through which no spring flowers will bloom. Nature cannot be denied and to live is to die.

Lord Sukuna cups your face in his hand, clawed fingers digging into your cheeks. “How little you know, woman.”

He says no more and you decide that he must know something that you don’t. He is leagues more worldly and likely does know things beyond your understanding. It isn’t your place to pry if he won’t tell you freely. He must see a thousand questions behind your eyes but he neglects to answer any of them. Instead he pulls his hand away from your face and the warmth of his skin against yours is replaced by the winter cold. There are no burning coals in this room. A shiver snakes through your body, and that Lord Sukuna acknowledges. He removes his outer robe and drapes it around your shoulder. Immediately you’re drowning in the warmth of his body still lingering in the silk. It’s far too long for you and you gather the massive swathe of fabric into your arms to keep it from dirtying on the ground. Lord Sukuna tuts and picks you up, easily keeping his clothes from dragging along the dirt. Cradling you in one arm he pulls his spear from Jurina’s second corpse with another. It comes loose with a sound that reminds you of chopping vegetables.

Lord Sukuna calls for Uraume and they appear in an instant as if they had been by his side all along. There’s an unspoken order that passes between them and your lord husband’s servant accepts it with a resolute nod. Then he says, “come, woman,” as though you could go anywhere else while still held aloft in his arms. It’s so different from the last time he held you, his fist locked around your delicate throat. Now his arms cradle beneath your knees and across your back as you lean against the warmth of his chest. The light of the sun is a bright wash of hazy white after spending some time in the dimness of the talisman room. You expect that Lord Sukuna will take you back to the main house, but he continues off in the direction nearing the furthermost bounds of the estate.

“What will happen to Jurina now?” You dare to ask. Her human form had already been burned, but you weren’t sure what would become of her cursed form. It would be cruel to send it back to her family and burning wasn’t meant for curses. A human body could be purified in flames in preparation for the next life, but a curse could not shed the truth of its nature even in death.

“I’ll show you,” Lord Sukuna said cryptically, still walking towards the building that stood alone on the outer reaches of the estate. Like the talisman room and the armory, there was a heady cloud of cursed energy blanketing the structure, though it was far more potent than anything you’d ever encountered aside from Lord Sukuna. His cursed energy seemed as deep and unending as the ocean and this strange building was just as unfathomably thick with traces of cursed energy. It was nearly overwhelming despite your constant exposure to your lord husband. It was ominous. Terrifying in its foreignness. Were you not held by Lord Sukuna, you might’ve run from this place. But there is an inherent safety in his arm. Your lord husband wouldn’t take you to a place that he could not protect you.

“What is this place?” You ask quietly, as if speaking too loudly would rouse something from the aura of darkness.

“An onsen of sorts.” It had the warmth of a bathhouse though the sound of babbling water was traded for that of rain, like a rushing waterfall as Lord Sukuna opened the door. It seemed just like the onsen of the main house. Stone floors around a deep pool, yet there was no water here. Instead the pit where a hot spring might’ve been was filled with something black and vicious. The dripping sound came from the strange hammock hung far above the pool. That same dark liquid seeping through the large patchwork of fabric. And when you look closer, there are those same talisman symbols painted on the bulging material.

“This is where Jurina will be taken,” Lord Sukuna told you, “so that she might finally be of use.” Just as Uraume said, none of his wives have served their purpose. It makes you wonder what purpose Lord Sukuna would have you serve. You dare to ask.

“That’s why I’ve brought you here,” he says vaguely. “You’re my wife, and I expect that you’ll serve me as a wife should.”

His words send a shock down your spine. What task have you been neglecting? You were raised in an affluent household as the daughter of a large and prosperous clan. The ways of womanhood have been stitched into your brain from the moment you were born. The proper way to act and speak, the things a wife must pay heed to if she wishes to keep a well run household. Though you’re only the third in line of authority–second, now–you’ve taken up most tasks to do with the household. Jurina hadn’t the patience and Second Mistress was always sequestered in her room. Such a sad girl like a flower wilting at the height of spring. She cried at Jurina’s funeral where few others could find the fondness for it. It was you that the head household maid reported to and the cooks asked about which meals should be prepared on which days. At first, you simply thought it was the convenience of receiving prompt answers, but now you know that it was simply expected. You were the favorite, the de facto lady of the house. So what could there be that you weren’t doing to your lord husband’s standards?

“My apologies, my lord. Whatever I’ve been lacking I will–” His hand covers your mouth, ear to ear.

“Enough,” he groans. Then he says, “Children. A wife should give her husband children. You’ll serve this purpose for me.” There’s a fleeting hint of fondness in his voice that sends a twinge through your heart. Lord Sukuna is asking you to bear his children. You weren’t married into the household as his main wife and yet he’s given you the highest honor of being the mother of his heirs. A warmth blooms across your cheeks and down your neck, a flush of excitement igniting through your body.

“As many as you’d like, my lord.” It’s what’s expected of you though you; an expectation rather than a choice, but you’re excited to fulfill the role even still. Though, part of you had considered it an impossibility. Lord Sukuna had been human once but something in him had changed, gone beyond that of an ordinary man. But he is a man even still. Desiring progeny, a legacy beyond his own being. To know that he wants to use your body for such an honorable purpose washes you in a great sense of pride. It will be your womb that births the King of Curses his heirs. Little pink haired babies with your nose and their father’s four eyes. But pride slowly turns to contemplative anguish.

If you were meant to give Lord Sukuna his children, it is nothing short of a miracle that you haven’t conceived in the year that you’ve been married. Lord Sukuna did nothing sparingly. He indulged to his heart’s content. In blood and carnage, in food, and in bed. He laid with you often enough that a child should’ve come long ago and yet you’ve yet to feel the stirring of a baby quickening within you.

The room dips and swoops around you as your eyes lose focus, lost in thought. What was wrong with you that you hadn’t yet fallen pregnant? Your hands clutch at your stomach, empty beneath the layers of your clothes. A hidden fragment of your heart wonders if it’s truly your fault at all. Lord Sukuna had three wives, and while you were most favored there were times when he took the others to bed, a time before you entered his household. And yet the estate remains empty of heirs. Though you don’t dare to entertain the thought longer than a moment, it flashes through your mind as quick as an arrow. Perhaps it was Lord Sukuna that was obstructing the blessing of a child. Still, your hands remain on your stomach, caressing the place meant to bear the fruits of life. Since birth you were told it would be your only honor in this life. To give a man a son to further his glory and continue his legacy. Lord Sukuna isn’t in need of such a successor, yet he’s asked for them even still.

“You are truly too valuable to die,” Lord Sukuna says, lifting your eyes towards his. They’re piercing as red flames, burning into your face with such intensity that it makes you want to wither in his arms, like a flower left with no water. “Jurina was poisoning you. Every night. And yet your body was kind enough to preserve itself for me.” Because what other reason would you have to defy death so vehemently? If Lord Sukuna says the purpose of your cursed technique is to keep you by his side, then who are you to deny it?

“You like tea.” Lord Sukuna says, passing the pad of his thumb over your lips. “Dark tea. Dark enough to mask the color of anything added to it. Jurina was bribing your little maid to slip poison into your tea every night before bed. Nothing lethal. She meant to poison your womb and purge any seed I might’ve planted inside you.” He laughs scornfully, “I thought it was jealousy, at first, but she was drinking it, too, and feeding it to the second one. Likely the work of her family urging her to cripple my reign by blocking the chances of an heir.”

Another hand brushes against your stomach, sweeping away your desperate grasping.

“I chose you well, woman. Though the poison did as it was made to and purged your body of any child that might’ve grown, you healed. What made Jurina and the other barren hardly touched you. As soon as you closed your eyes your body repaired itself. Uraume thinks you might be close to building a tolerance for it since your technique heals as well as strengthens. I might start feeding you poisons to fortify you against future attacks.” It was so terribly wonderful that you knew as soon as he said it that you’d gladly eat anything your lord husband asked without question. The poison might even taste sweet on your tongue if it was prepared by him.

“Things will be different now. You will give me children. Strong children.” He says it with an air of finality, as if you’d ever deny him anything, though you’re uncertain of how strong any child of yours will be. Of course, your maiden clan is a powerful one, but you’re hardly a descendant of the three elite sorcerer clans. Jurina had been a Zenin. Her blood would’ve given him strong children. Second Mistress is a Kamo and her children would carry that superiority in their blood. As a humble Hoga, you were the least desirable of his brides to have his children with. Unless Fourth Mistress was of a lower clan than even you.

“If I may, my lord,” he grunts his annoyance but allows you to continue. “If you want children, why did you not have them with Jurina? Certainly a Zenin would be better suited to creating a powerful heir. My cursed technique is unheard of even within my own clan.” You remind him. It would break your heart to disappoint him with a child that couldn’t even do you the service of inheriting your technique. And there likely would be no second chance to amend the error.

“I don’t want your technique, woman, though it would surely be of great use. That’s what this place is for.” He sweeps his arm towards the pool of darkness gathered in the center of the room. The longer you look the more it begins to turn from black to deep purple. Slowly, the immense level of cursed energy sufficing the air begins to make sense. The staccato waves that don’t seem to match any singular signature aside from Lord Sukuna’s. It is blood. The blood of curses. And Lord Sukuna had called it an onsen of sorts. Did he mean to bathe you in the blood of those he’d slain? To give your child over to these tainted waters to imbue them with its power?

It made you fear for the child that had yet to be made. Of course, their purpose in life would be an extension of your own. To serve their lord father in any way that he asked, yet they’d still be a piece of you. A terrible selfish piece of your heart began to crack and splinter, breaking away in revolt of turning your baby into a monster. But what was Lord Sukuna if not a monster? Adoration did little to cleanse the crimes of the King of Curses. Any child you gave him would be heir to that title. With a few measured breaths, you resigned yourself to it. Your child would know no other way of life and you would love them as proudly as a mother could. They would always be a manifestation of the love you bear for your lord husband. His flesh and blood joined with yours to create a life. It felt like a privilege to even consider the thought.

#sukuna ★#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #★ mine!

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eliossun · 11 days ago

Text

HOT FREAKS!

synopsis : an alternate universe, where you face a particularly warm summer. and maybe, you've just realized that you're in deep, deep trouble.

characters : daisuke (mouthwashing) x gn!reader

content : crushing. a lot of crushing.

wc : 600+

author notes at the end!!!

it's summer.

the sun is bright, with the fan on full speed, and frozen treats will eventually melt onto your hand, sticky residue forgotten.

it's /summer/.

that means you'll be loitering around a certain boy’s room with the windows open, and the low buzz of pixelated music in the background. it’s a routine at this point, the way your body finds itself at the same spot every year, slouching on the messy bed. it sports different patterned sheets every time you visit. it was pandas last time, and this time - it seems to be hibiscus patterned.

you swear that there was a shirt with the same exact print in his closet. did he buy it in a set, or something? you try to imagine what the person who thought to do this, and what they were thinking. … ah. does it really matter?

you would normally entertain these questions - but the way your brain is getting fried right now isn’t really helping. the heat is really getting to you. “hey.”

- and your counterpart seems to have gotten the memo.

your eyes flicker towards his, to at least acknowledge that you did hear him, and god.

he looks like he’s suffering as much as you are. but with the way his features gleam when the sun shines on him is unfair. how come you’re stuck with clothes glued onto your skin, damp and wet from sweat, while he gets to look like - you don’t know - a highschool heart throb?

his hair filters the sunlight - making his hair look like it’s glowing brown, while his eyes seem to gleam - looking more golden than brown right at the moment. .. god. you’re so pissed. “why do you seem more upset now..”

daisuke frowns, and you only notice then, that you’re also frowning. you immediately correct your expression. you look away, arms folded. “nothing.”

“ooooo-kay. weirdo.”

you continue to sulk. not that you would admit that you were sulking, of course. .. so the next best thing to do is to make sure you looked like you weren’t sulking. you try your best - face slowly straightening out, removing any semblance of a pout, or any expression at all. it’s rather hard to do, once again, because of the heat.

you close your eyes. this is all because of the heat. you won't accept defeat. you're going to face the epitome of sunshine straight on, and you're going to win. after much self-convincing, you open your eyes, ready to face the sun itself.

but when you finally look back at him, you’re not met with a view of the male sitting beside you with his eyes trained on the television, no.

you’re instead met with brown hair kissing your own hair strands, his face so close - and his lips even closer.

and he seems oblivious about it - a smile on his lips, dimples showing, as a triumph look shines in his eyes.

“done sulking?”

with each syllabus - you can feel the heat of his breath hit your skin.

you can barely breathe. your chest feels so full. your brain isn’t responding.

fuck.

you can’t get your eyes off him.

fuck.

“let’s play a ga-oomf!”

before your brain could formulate another thought, you slammed a pillow onto his face. as soon as he was down on the bed, temporarily immobilised, you immediately scramble towards the exit of the room, door already open, and your heart pounding than your own voice -

“you suck! you really suck!"

a pause ensues. before you shuffle back to the door frame - with only your middle finger in view for the male to see.

“fuck you!” you could already imagine his face of confusion once you come back. god - you'll deal with it later. for now you'll deal with the warmness in your face, and the same one in your chest that feels like it's going to explode.

this is all because of the heat. you swear.

hi. i hope you like it :33 title reference : hot freaks suits daisuke so much. this is a small snippet of what i have in mind. reader (at this point, it feels like an oc, doesnt it..) is the black cat counterpart of daisuke (golden retriever). this is the point where reader realized that they had a crush on daisuke. they have a bit of history, maybe went to high school for a while tgt, or maybe they're childhood friends :) it's up to interpretation. my reqs are open! i can write a more neutral reader oorr if youd prefer, my own reader !! (the one in this fic) tysm for reading my first fic in a while! edit : small typo! (im unsure what else to tag this with……... )

#daisuke x reader #daisukexreader #mouthwashing

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skzimagines · 2 months ago

Text

Characters: Hyunjin x Female!Reader ~ Bangchan ~ Y/N’s friend Riss ~ mentions of Minho. ~

Genre: Virgin!Hyunjin ~ Acquaintances to lovers? ~ Chan’s the bad guy in this story,,, I’m sorry Chan ILY 😭~

Warnings: SMUT ~ MDNI 18+ ~ Drinking ~ Swearing ~

"Get your ass in the car!" Chan yells, as y/n begins to walk away, passing the car he is telling her to get in to.

"Y/n... I swear if you don't get in the car..."

"What! What is it that you want Chan? A quick fuck? A fling? A friend.... What!" She yells back at him.

"You knew what this was when we started, why are you all of a sudden acting this way?" He asks, following her as she continues her way down the dark, streetlight lit road.

"That was until you started taking me out, doing things with me that a "fuck buddy" wouldn't do. You stayed the night Chan... you stayed the night." The end of her sentence is said in a defeated tone as she stops her angry pace in the middle of the street to look at him.

"Y/n... I didn't know you felt this way. I wasn't trying to lead you on..." He says in a sorrowful tone.

"So that's it... you don't feel anything toward me, at all?" She asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry... just please get in the car and let me take you home... I'm not letting you walk at night by yourself." He says, gesturing toward the long, dark road behind her.

She takes a quick look at the ongoing darkness that awaits her if she doesn't go with him. She doesn't say anything as she makes her way back to the car. He follows close behind her and hits the unlock button once they get to the car.

The ride back to her apartment is quiet, the only sound heard is the faint music playing in the background.

"I think it's best we stop this all together after this." Chan says in a hushed tone, breaking the silence, not taking his eyes off of the road in front of him.

Y/n hums in agreement, keeping her eyes focused on the houses going by through the window.

Shortly after, they pull up to her apartment. Nothing is said between the two when Y/n gets out of the car.

She makes her way up to the front door before Chan pulls away. She watches as he drives, getting further and further away and as he does the tears fall quicker and quicker.

She makes her way into her apartment, heading straight for her bedroom. She feels so betrayed, used, hurt... heartbroken. But is she supposed to feel this way? He had explained to her from the start that they were to not catch feelings for one another, that he doesn't want a relationship right now.

Suddenly guilt trips in... Did she overreact? Did she cause a fight for no reason? She's beyond herself as she throws herself onto her bed, not caring about the wet makeup from her tears getting all over her new bed sheets.

Pretty soon, after a handful of more tears, sleep takes over her body as she becomes exhausted from being so upset.

~ A week later ~

"So, nothing was said after that?" Y/n's friend Riss asks. Y/n silently shakes her head 'no'. "What a loser..." She states. After a year of Y/n trying to justify Chan's actions when it came to whatever they had was... She's given up, she doesn't care what her friends think of him anymore. There's no use trying to fight for his perfect image anymore... knowing now that there would be nothing to come between the both of them.

"You know, Hyunjin has been asking about you lately..." She says with a smirk.

Hyunjin... the quiet, nerdy and always sticks to himself, other than the couple of times he's been around her friend group, guy. They haven't talked must, just a few conversations here and there when they had all went clubbing together. He was sweet... a little too sweet. She had heard from another friend that the guy has never even had a girlfriend, let alone his first kiss yet. Which is really quiet astonishing, considering he's a 24 year old man, who's looks could absolutely send someone to their grave if he really tried.

"Riss, I highly doubt that..." Y/n says with a chuckle. "He's too sweet to be a rebound anyway."

"Who said anything about a rebound? He has the hots for you, he told me himself... He just didn't want to make a move because he thought you and Chan were a thing, and lets be honest... He isn't exactly the type to try to stir the pot." She says with a chuckle.

"When exactly did he tell you this?" She asks, giving Riss a confused look.

"Last time we all went to the club together. I don't think he exactly meant to tell me, because he was really drunk and we got to talking about you and he just went on and on about how he wished he had the courage to talk to you." She states, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Drunk... he was drunk Riss." Y/n chuckles, thinking her friend was just trying to work her up about it, just to get her head off of the whole Chan situation.

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, sweetheart."

~ The next day ~

The club.

It's been a week since Y/n and Chan have talked. They've seen each other here and there, but not one word was said between the two.

The feelings were finally starting to subside, Y/n has been thinking about him less and less every day. From what she's heard, he's already moved on to the next girl. Her heart stung a little when she heard the news, but it was quickly drowned out.

Drowned out by the alcohol that has poisoned her brain and bloodstream all at once.

Riss graduated college a few days ago, so she is throwing a grad party at their local, very frequently visited club. Y/n is currently sitting at the bar, throwing back every shot the bartender throws her way. It's been a long week... she deserves a night out. At least that's what she thinks to herself.

After her 5th shot, she makes her way back to the booth that everyone's made their own ways to, to bring themselves all together, away from the strangers who have also thought it was a good idea to come out tonight.

"Welcome back beautiful!" Riss yells, trying to sound out the music that's blaring. Y/n shows her a smile, before her attention is turned to the person sitting in the corner, sipping on a bright red drink.

Hyunjin.

She feels a sudden pinging feeling in her chest.

Their eyes lock and Hyunjin gives her a small smile, a blush forming on his cheeks. Y/n is surprised she can see it clearly, with the lights being so dim above the booth their sitting at.

Riss must have noticed the eye contact between the two and took it upon herself to invite Y/n to sit next to her, which was conveniently right next to Hyunjin.

She gets a faint smell of musk and vanilla as she takes her seat between him and Riss. His scent fills her nose, causing that ping to erupt in her chest again.

"Hyunjin!" Riss yells across from Y/n, causing Hyunjin to look up and y/n to look at him. He notices her looking at him and the blush comes back.

"y..yeah?" Hyunjin replies.

"Have you met Y/n?" She asks. Y/n whips her head her way, wide eyed. Riss gives her a smirk.

"Uhm.. yeah, we've m.. met." He says shyly.

"You guys should get to know each other better!" Riss says, pushing y/n's shoulder toward Hyunjin, causing y/n to catch herself from hitting him, by her hand resting on his thigh. She quickly pulls her hand away.

The heat of her touch lingers on Hyunjins leg, his heart races at the feeling.

Riss quickly turns her attention back to her other friends once her plan on getting the two to talk was a success.

“So umm.. how are things?” Hyunjin asks Y/n shyly.

Y/n let’s out a small chuckle.

“They’ve been good…” she answers, knowing well that her week has been complete shit, but she wouldn’t lay that out on the table for sweet Hyunjin. “What about you?” She asks.

Hyunjin doesn't know where he gets the confidence, but he ignores her question and quickly blurts out "Have they really been good?"

Y/n gives him a questioning look. She's sure she hasn't talked to him about anything going on in her life the past week, but she remembers her friends aren't ones to keep things to themselves.

"I...I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that, it's none of my buis..." Hyunjin starts to say, but she cuts his sentence short.

"No... it's okay. Since you want to know, it hasn't been good. My life has sucked the past week." Y/n gives him a fake smile and takes a small sip of her drink.

Hyunjin can't help but watch the way her tongue peaks out and lays against her glass, the way her lips move perfectly against it when she pulls it away to set it back on the table.

"Do you want to dance with me?" He blurts out, again... not knowing where the confidence is coming from. 'It has to be the alcohol.' He thinks to himself.

Y/n looks at him once again, before violently shaking her head. "Oh no.. I don't think that's a good idea." She chuckles, looking out to the people on the dance floor.

With one more gust of confidence, Hyunjin grabs her arm and pulls her from the booth, leading them to the dance floor. He doesn't know what the song is that's playing, but maybe it's the strobe lights being the only thing lighting the place up, other than the lights from the bar, or maybe it's the song that's bumping so loud he can feel his body vibrating from the bass. But she looks so beautiful, so elegant, free. Maybe, it's because he knows he has a chance now. He knows Chan won't be right around the corner looking for her.

"Here, just like this." He says, grabbing her arm's and placing them around his shoulders.

She locks her fingers together as he rests his hands on her hips, careful not to go any lower.

The two begin to sway together, as the song plays slowly in the background. She doesn't realize how many drinks she's had until she stood up from the booth. Her vision is a little blurry, not too much to be stumbling over though.

Her body is relaxed, soft, tingling. Her heart is warm, full... She knows she's slowly falling for him. He hasn't been off of her mind since Riss brought him into conversation.

"Hyunjin..." She whispers, loud enough for him to hear.

Hyunjin tries to reply, but that was before a booming voice came from behind him.

"Hyunjin... really?" Chan says.

Y/n pulls her arms from around him, dropping them to her sides. Hyunjin lets out a sigh, feeling empty from her touch disappearing.

"Chan...." Hyunjin says, turning around to face him.

"I see you're finally getting what you've been wanting." Chan says, letting out a vicious chuckle.

"It's not like that..." Hyunjin starts, but Y/n quickly cuts him off. "And what about it?" She asks.

Chan looks dumbfounded, not expecting her to talk.

"Oh I see... Couldn't get over me, so you had to go to the school nerd to feel some type of love?" He laughs. They hadn't noticed her, but the girl Chan has been 'dating' stands beside him and lets out a chuckle with him.

"Just come on..." Hyunjin whispers, grabbing Y/n's forearm to pull her away. Y/n looks into his eyes, through his glasses, noticing the hurt and embarrassment written on his face. "No... I'm not going to stand here and let him belittle you in front of everyone." She says, trying to pull her arm from his grasp.

He doesn't let go. He only pulls her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "It's not worth it. Don't let him ruin this from me." He whispers, taking in the scent of her perfume as his face is so close.

She doesn't say anything, she just hums in agreement.

"Leaving so soon?" Chan yells over the music, laughing once again.

Y/n hears Hyunjin let out a big sigh before turning around to face Chan.

"You never deserved her... I'm quite surprised you ever even pulled her to begin with. But somehow, you did. And, to no surprise... you screwed up and lost her. So if you wouldn't mind, leaving us alone, so I can show her how she deserves to be treated." And with that Hyunjin turns around and grabs her arm once again, pulling her to the bar, away from Chan and his new girl.

They both take a seat on the stools at the bar before Hyunjin asks the bartender for two drinks. There's a moment of silence between the two before Y/n decides to speak up.

"What happened to just walking away?" She chuckles, giving him a heartwarming smile.

Hyunjin gives her a smile. "I don't know what came over me." He says, as the bartender slides the drinks across the bar to them.

“Probably the vodka shots..” she chuckles, taking a sip of her drink.

“If it counts for anything, I think you're the cutest nerd I've ever met." She states, a blush forming on her cheeks from her own words.

"You don't mean that..." Hyunjin whispers, finding it hard to make his voice any louder. Her eyes connect with his and he fights the urge to pull her to him and slam his lips against hers.

"Oh.. but I do." She whispers back.

"We're all heading to Minho's place, are you guys coming with?" Riss asks.

It's been about another hour when Riss found the two still sitting at the bar together.

"I actually think I'm going to head home." Y/n says.

"Okay, see you tomorrow?" Riss asks, bringing her into a hug.

Y/n lets out a light hum in approval. "Alright, Hyunjin, you coming?" She asks, as she pulls away from Y/n.

Hyunjin looks over to her, making eye contact again, not taking his eyes off of her when he reply's to Riss. "I think I should make sure Y/n gets home safely." He says.

"Oooh okay..." Riss says with a smirk, looking to Y/n and giving her a wink with a smirk. "I'll see you guys tomorrow then!" She gives her another quick hug before skipping back to the booth where everyone was waiting for her.

~ Home ~

"Well this is it..." Y/n says, as Hyunjin and her make it to her apartment.

"I guess so..." Hyunjin says, nervously putting his hands in his pockets.

"Do you ummm... you wanna come in for a while?" She asks, pointing to her door.

"I don't want to intrude..."

"Trust me, you're not intruding on anything special." She says with a chuckle.

She turns around and places her key into the door, quickly unlocking it. As they walk in, Hyunjin is smacked in the face with the scent of her. If he had to imagine what it was like walking into heaven, this would be it. He finds her home adorable, it's very 'her' in every sense possible.

"Your place is really nice." He says.

"Thanks, I'm sorry for the mess." She points toward the living room where there are papers scattered around a laptop, sitting on the small coffee table near the couch.

Not necessarily a mess, but it must just be a normal thing for people to say when they have guests over.

The alcohol is still coursing through their veins as Y/N guides Hyunjin to the living room before heading to the kitchen to grab them a beer from the fridge.

She makes her way back into the living room, setting Hyunjin's drink on the table in front of him before sitting on the couch next to him.

There is a moment of silence between the two before Hyunjin. in his tipsy faze, speaks up. "Y/n..."

She quickly turns her head toward him.

"What am I doing here?" He asks quietly.

"Uhh... I thought we were hanging out?" She answers, in a questioning tone.

"Yeah... but, what is this going to lead to?"

She's quiet, not knowing what to say.

"I like you... I don't know if you know that, but I've liked you for a long time and I don't want to screw this up because I have no idea what I'm-"

She cuts him off, slamming her lips into his, not caring that their teeth lightly hit together.

Their lips move in perfect sync, they mold together as if they were made for one another. Hyunjin's hands explore her body, not being able to get enough of her, no matter how much he tries.

He lightly pushes her back into the couch, climbing on top of her. His lips not leaving hers, not even for a second. He wouldn’t risk losing the opportunity.

His fingers graze her hip as his hand rests under the hem of her shirt, her skin is soft and warm. He lets out an involuntary groan at the feeling.

She feels his hand rest on her hip, and as if she couldn’t feel anymore butterflies, it sends even more into her chest. She lets out a moan as she feels him lightly squeeze her hip.

Hyunjin pulls away, but not before leaving one more soft kiss on her lips.

“I… I don’t know what to do…” he says quietly, shyness taking over him, he can’t bring himself to look her in the eye.

“It’s okay… we don’t have to do anything more, if you don’t wan-”

“I do!” He says, more excitedly than he’d expected.

“I mean… I do want to, I just don’t know… how.” He stutters out.

Y/n let’s out an understanding hum before placing her hand on his cheek with comfort.

“I can show you…” she whispers, before taking his lips to hers once again.

It’s not long before the two are left in nothing but their underwear, legs wrapped around one another, lips still fighting for each other. Y/n takes the opportunity to climb on top of him, moving her hair to the side before diving into his neck, leaving behind love marks at every inch she stopped at.

Hyunjin loses all control once he feels her lips connect to his neck. He brings his hand down to her soaked heat, sliding her panties to the side, trying his best to slide his cock into her, but to no prevail.

"Can you... can you help me put it in?" Hyunjin whispers, letting out a desperate groan when he couldn't slide his hardened member into her.

She lets out a hum before pulling away from his neck and sitting up a tiny bit to help him guide himself inside of her. She sinks down on top of him slowly as they both let out exasperated groans.

"Don't... move." Hyunjin whispers, knowing if she moves now, he might cum in his fully erect virgin state.

Y/n gives him a smirk, knowing what was happening, before she slightly picks herself up and guides herself back on to him. Hyunjin quickly grabs her hips, causing her movements to come to a halt.

"It's okay Jinnie... you can cum." She whispers. She leans down, her breasts pushing against his chest. His hands go lose on her waist, to which she takes as an okay to start riding him once again.

Hyunjin throws his head back as he takes in every feeling of her pussy swallowing his cock full, over and over again. He's tried his hardest to hold it together, but he's been waiting for this moment with her for so long. "I'm cuming." He says.

Before she knows it, she feels his cock twitch inside of her and his cum filling her with every thrust. His face contorts into pure pleasure as she rides out his high for him.

The two lay together, she still on top, taking in everything that has just happened.

"So, umm... Can I take you... on a proper date tomorrow?" He asks her shyly, his fingers rubbing slowly along her back.

She lets out a small hum, before sitting up, his cock still inside of her. The movement causes Hyunjin to hiss from overstimulation.

"I'd love that." She replies, before leaning back down and planting a kiss to his cheek, causing a blush to form on both.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan angst #kpop smut #bangchan #lee know #changbin #han jisung #lee felix #felix #seungmin #jeongin #i.n

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starb3rrys · 10 months ago

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Hello, can I request Jouno giving you aftercare? Just you not being able to walk and full of bruises and him needing to help you while teasing you yk? If you want, can you also do a Tecchou one?

Anyways- your writing is amazing :]

Agh!! I apologize for the late reply. I love writing some sweet aftercare fluff for this iconic duo! I might do a part 2 with different characters in the near future considering I have some other cute takes on how each character pampers their s/o after utterly ravaging them- (￣ω￣;). Anyways, thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sweet Ol' Aftercare

Ft. Jouno, Tecchou

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jouno

Soft breaths surround the room as your aching body quivers under Jouno's. Your head was spinning, unable to form any thoughts as the overwhelming feeling of pure bliss was screwing with your senses. A familiar chuckle snapped you back into reality as the sheets rustled, "Quite ironic and hilarious to hear you become an exhausted, drooling mess after getting what you were nagging me all day for." Soft lips kissed your neck as slim fingers caressed your sore legs. "Was it worth it? Was it worth getting all sore and bruised up?", he teased as his breath tickled against your skin. You tried your best to muster up a snarky response...a simple "shut up" or "go to hell" would've sufficed. Unfortunately, your throat was pretty much spent from letting out loud cries and serving as Jouno's personal fleshlight. He quietly laughed to himself as he heard you struggling to even form a sentence, taking pride in the fact he was the sole reason for your aching.

His fingers traced your collarbone, feeling the bite marks and warm spots--indicating just how much he marked you. "Do they sting a lot?", he asked with a tender tone. As much as Jouno loves to tease and playfully bully you just to see you argue back or get all pent up (Fucking Sadist-), he does genuinely care and wants to make sure he wasn't too overly rough on you. You sigh, noticing his concern...you shake your head slowly. He grinned, "Always so stubborn...come on, admit you liked it". You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He tried to hold back a laugh, "Oh come on, I know you can say it...you didn't seem to hesitate letting out those erotic words and begs to me earlier, don't get shy now", he teased. He felt your body heat up and tremble under his fingertips, "Fine, I suppose ill let you stay quiet this time considering how tired you are...but, by the way you were squeezing me so tight earlier, I know what the answer is."

Jouno's arms found their way around your waist as he helped you sit up in bed, placing your back against the headboard. He left and soon returned with a cup of water, offering it to you. Your arms shakily reached for the cup and you swear it weighed like 5 pounds. Jouno heard the water shake, indicating that your hold was not at all steady. He moved closer and helped you hold the cup, "Open up and slowly drink some, Okay? Don't rush", he told you as his eyebrows knitted together. You slowly drank some water, the water freshly soothed your sore throat...the feeling of cold hydration was amazing. Jouno pulled the cup away and set it down on the nightstand. "Can you even feel your legs?", he asked with a slight chuckle. You shook your head as you gazed down at your bitten and bruised up thighs. Jouno nodded and stood up, his arm swiftly went under your knees and the other on your back. He carried you towards the bathroom, feeling your head on his chest as your hands weakly rested around his neck made him smile, you were so vulnerable and depended on him for help. He turned on the warm water as he entered the shower, placing you onto your feet. Your back rested against his chest for support as the water coated you both. "Now, I may love you but I dislike the scent of your sweat...it makes my nose hurt", he said as he caressed your arms under the warm water...

Tecchou

Soft taps on your cheek followed by a low and breathless voice, "Hey...Hey, are you okay?". No words fell from your lips as you attempted to catch your breath, the consequence of Tecchous neediness and desperation. Clothes lied scattered around the room, thrown and ripped off without care prior. A small smile filled Tecchous lips, his hands moving your hair to the side. "I see you're still conscious but...wow...", his voice drew shivers down your spine as his fingers touched your bruised neck. "I really do act like a feral dog around you, marking my territory.", he teased with a low chuckle. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, embarrassment filled your senses as your shaky hands covered your face. He grinned, "Oh don't be shy now, you know you loved every mark I left on you." Your eyes focused and widened as Tecchou sat up straight and gave you a full view of his own marked body; chest, neck, arms, and back were covered in bruises/bites and scratches...made by your handy work. "Your shyness was nowhere to be seen when you marked me all up, now was it?". He was right, you didn’t hesitate for a second when you scratched his back and bit his neck as he practically rammed you into the mattress, the memory was enough to fluster you.

He frowned slightly and let his hand travel up your jaw, gently gripping your chin. "Look at me...", his voice was hoarse yet tender making it seem like more of a request than a command. Your unfocused eyes met his, dragging a smile onto his lips. "Are you okay?", his words were filled with concern as his soft eyes scanned your features, your heart fluttered. Tecchou's hands drew up your thighs with care, "Your legs are trembling, was I too rough?". Your soft head shakes were enough to reassure him you were okay...Tecchou could be a rough and teasing individual when you two slept together, but he always took care of you as if you were the most delicate and fragile thing on earth. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss onto your lips, your hands traveled onto his hair as he kissed you with such love. His hands massaged your sore hips, his lips moved down and kissed the deep hickeys left on your neck. Each kiss felt like a spark, soothing and relaxing your body under his touch.

Tecchou stood up and grabbed a wet towel, he carefully moved your legs apart and cleaned you gently. "We can change the bedsheets later...", he said as he put the towel away and laid beside you. His strong arms pulled you into him, firm arms wrapped around your waist. Your head rested against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat made your eyes grow heavy. He kissed the top of your head, "We'll shower in a bit...but for now...". His voice grew farther and farther as your bruised body gave into slumber..."rest up, my love"...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I loved writing this one-shot! My favorite part was definitely Jouno. I decided to make Tecchou a bit less teasing and more comforting in his part since I believe his main concern would be making sure his s/o is okay- Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this fluff one-shot! Love ya! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

#bsd jouno #jouno x reader #bsd tecchou #tecchou x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd comfort #bsd #anime

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zeichannnnn · 8 months ago

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Finally finished his character sheet :D

You guys don’t know how long it took me to come up with this design, after failing multiple times and not liking the results of many—it took ONE EXAM for me to get bored and start doodling on the question paper of Tommy designs for my brain to actually start being creative and come up with this shit I swear to God

Anyways, local raccoon boy becomes not so local anymore :P

Dunno if I’ll be writing this into a fic soon but here are some misc. info on stuff:

Reason why he hides his vision is so that he won’t attract any unwanted attention, especially after his story of how he gained a vision spread like wildfire through Inazuma

He kept Tubbo’s bandana but discard Wilbur’s jacket as a sign that he’s moving forward, laying the dead and holding the living

The L’manburg flag is to show his pride and unwavering loyalty towards his country

Birds. Birds everywhere.

Aight that’s all for today, I’m eepy and goodnight o7

#dream smp #dsmp #genshin impact #dsmp tommy #crossover #digital art #原神 #genshin fanfic #crossover fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #tommyinnit #ao3 fanfic #fanfic art #Tommy’s Adventure in Teyvat #Tommy’s Adventures in Teyvat #Zei’s art

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liaarxse · 1 year ago

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Get off damn it!

Headcanons

TR characters cuddling with you after a fight

Characters: The Kawata twins (separately), Matsuno Chifuyu, Manjiro Sano

Warnings: None, crack

A/n: This freeky AI bot is giving me way too many ideas.

Souya Kawata

Let's get straight to the point, you know it, he knows it, y'all cuddling after a fight ASAP

Not even a fight, even if it was just a meeting

Y'all cuddling ok? Ok.

He's usually pretty riled up after a fight and has more energy

Tells you all the drama bitch

Literally get out your notepad now

Maybe he let a tear fall here and there, but that's about it

But oh

Ohhh

OHOHOHOHOOOO

God forbid he straight up cries like in that one manga chapter (I can't remember which one it was)

Pray

Even if you don't pray, pray

Even if you are a Satanist, pray

Even if you're a God or a Devil, pray

You and Nahoya both know the shit that's about to go lose

Just stay put and wait for him

He comes to your place as if in a matter of seconds, changing and throwing himself onto you, breaking down

Well, shit.

He's cursing them out, saying how he beat their ass and would do it again, while crying

How?

Idk

Don't ask me they ain't real

But show this boy some love. He deserves it. Caress his scalp, play with his hair, place tender kisses on his face, and just hold him for a bit longer

He'll return the favor as soon as possible.

Nahoya Kawata

Ah, fuck, not again

He gets into a fight every single day

And always comes to your place so you can fix him up

"Hey baby."

"Nahoya your face is literally deformed what the fuck."

Just fix him

Not because he deserves it but because he's annoying as shit and won't leave you alone

Once, he broke your window and crawed into your room at 4 in the morning to tend his wounds

He paid for your therapy sessions dw

Since he's 24/7 injured, he always smells like blood

Like, ew?

Once he came by after a nasty fight all injured and blooded up

You gagged

LMAOOOOO

"Fuck you."

"Sure."

🤡

He always throws his bloody ass on your new sheets, and you go BERSERK

You once hit him in the head cough Deja Vu cough with a broom because he ruined your sheets

He smirked at that comment

You kicked him outside

He crawled back in and trapped you in a hug

That lasted all night

"Nahoya let go I need to pee."

"Bitch hold it in."

He loves you, i swear

Matsuno Chifuyu

Blooded your sheets on accident

Don't be mad please

Here, pet Peke J

You mad?

You don't get to pet Peke J

Loser\j

In all honesty, he's reckless.

Every. Fucking. Time. He comes by the next day you're restocking on aid supplies.

Stg he better start paying up

Once called you in the middle of a fight with his nose bleeding and a few bruises on his face

"I'm coming over later, babe!"

"MATSUNO HOLY SHI—"

He hung up

Your ass went CRAZY before he came knocking on your door

He was injured

A lot

Really

Is he half dead?

Will he make it through the night?

Will—

Hey he brought Peke J!

Everything Is fine

He cleaned up before cuddling with you but still managed to dirty your sheets

"You're lucky my son is here."

"That's my son, pussy."

Y'all love Peke J more than your relationship/j

He changed your sheets and went back to cuddling you

If needed he'll buy new ones

Baby boy, baby 🫶

Manjiro Sano

Bfr, you woke up, and your boyfriend was sleeping right next to you, beaten up

You screamed

He screamed

You threw a book at him

He got a concussion

Great, more blood

"Damn it Manjiro I just bought these sheets!"

"Are you insane?"

Maybe lol

After leaving the room you still felt the smell of blood.

Looking down you saw your favourite pj smeared with droplets of blood from none other than MIKEY

He had cuddled you while you slept personally in blooded clothes

You chased him with a pan

Seven AM the usual morning line-up

Start on the chores and sweep till the floor's all cleEeeeeEN

Imagine Mikey as Rapunzel though

Them dark impulses gon kick in hard up inside that tower

Give him love too, please, #helptakemichiwiththesemessedupbastards

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smokersbaby · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, if you're comfortable with writing this, can I request some angst to fluff where Zoro & Sanji ( separately ) reacting to ( gender neutral ) reader sleeping on the couch after an argument? Only if you're comfy ofc, no pressure ^^

Hi! Thank you so much for your request and I apologize if I took some time before answering but I haven't written angst fics before so this is my very first try! I hope you like it, tough! Characters: Zoro, Sanji TW: angst, fluff (there's no real TW tough) Author's note: the arguments are not that serious oc, this is also my first writing with gender neutral reader, it was kinda easy, probably just because it's SFW fanfic but I'd love to try it even with others genres :)

Zoro

You almost hate him when he answers like that. "You shouldn't do that, you're going to hurt yourself," Zoro says as he sees you picking up a very heavy weight of his. Probably it was a little too much for your training, but as soon as he said that, you wanted to prove him wrong. Useless to say that in less than a second the weight fell on your toes, making you swear in pain. "I told you so" Zoro says watching you hurt yourself and coming towards you to land a hand. "Leave me alone!" you shout at him, leaving him speechless. It wasn't your real intention to send him away like that, but at that exact moment, you felt so irritated hearing his know-it-all way to speak. Zoro glanced at you without saying a word and went away, leaving you alone in the room. As the time of going to sleep arrives, your anger dissipates, but yet you are not in the mood to say sorry to him or even to sleep in the same bed, so you decide to rest on the couch for tonight. As you pass in front of your shared bedroom, you see the door slightly open and Zoro in bed, probably already sleeping as if nothing happened. You get some blankets and a pillow as you try to make yourself comfortable on the couch even though the material wasn't enough soft to sleep on with ease. You had a hard time trying to fall asleep, the sound of the things you shouted at Zoro before echoes in your mind, probably you overreacted, but why didn't he try to resolve things as soon as it happened? Tears start falling down your cheeks, overthinking isn't the greatest way to catch some sleep, but in one way or another your eyelids become heavy and you manage to fall asleep on the hard fabric. You didn't sense him approaching you on the couch, but as soon as you feel his arms hugging you tight over the blankets you can't help but hug him back, a soft grunt slips out of his mouth. "Y/N, you don't have to sleep here" you can hear the softness in his voice even though his words seem quite rough. Zoro lets out a sigh as he holds you tighter through the fabric of the blankets. "I didn't want to upset you, I'm sorry" he whispers, you can't resist him when he opens up to you, so you put your arms around his neck to feel him closer. "I'm sorry too, I overreacted" you feel tears running down your face. "No need to apologize" he picks you up from the uncomfortable couch and brings you to your shared bedroom, he places a kiss on your forehead as soon as he holds you in his strong arms. It feels so relaxing to be held like that, you can sense his protectiveness towards you. He places you on the comfy bed and tucks you under the cosy blankets. You probably look like a burrito right now, all rolled up in the sheets, and your eyes are still reddish from the tears and tiredness since it's quite late. Zoro puts himself under the blankets too, hugging you tight and making your head rest on his chest, his hands play with your hair as he helps you fall asleep, his soft touch relaxes you and you start to forget even the reason why you argued with him. "My little stubborn baby" he whispers as he senses you already dreaming between his arms with a soft smile, knowing everything is okay as long as you are with him.

Sanji

Sanji can't be upset with you, even if you get on his nerves with some serious arguing. He keeps calling you "baby or love" all the time and probably this was the main reason that made you lose your temper in that situation.

He couldn't understand all your concern when you told him that he was being too uncautious when fighting. He replied superficially to your statement, even though he got a scar on his chest from the previous battle. "Let me bandage your wound Sanji" you said in a quite angry tone, preventing yourself to tell him -I told you so-, even though it's what you would have liked to say most to him. "No, it's nothing love…" he replied, hiding the pain and trying to look confident even in a moment like that. He continues: "it's not that serious". You gave him a deadly look, how could he answer you that way when his fresh wound was bleeding? Why did he have to act like that? There's nothing wrong in asking for help, furthermore, you are his s/o, and he should know how much you care about him. In that exact moment, you've let your emotions take the lead, as you said to him in such an irritating tone the simple words "Fine, do that by yourself then", making appear a blown away look on Sanji's face. He couldn't understand why you were being so rude to him, just because he didn't need your help with that wound (or probably because he didn't want to appear weak to your eyes). Now you were in the guest room of your shared house, refusing to sleep in the same bed as Sanji and trying to make yourself comfortable on the guest's bed that nobody has ever really used. You could feel the hard mattress springs underneath your body, probably rusty due to using it only a few times. You covered yourself with the blankets trying not to think about the previous argument with Sanji, but how could you not think about it? Tears started running down your cheeks, the tiredness of the day was mixing the thoughts inside your head, making you get up from the uncomfy bed after a few minutes. You went to your shared bedroom and you peeked at the door, seeing Sanji sitting down on the bed trying to bandage himself clumsily. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit seeing him trying to do his best but still not succeeding. You entered the room, Sanji turned his head suddenly hearing your footsteps on the floor. You grabbed the bandages and started wrapping up his wound, without letting him say a word. After you were done, he whispered a soft "Thank you", making you smile slightly. He wrapped his arms around your body, keeping you tight against him. "Let me help you right away next time, there's no shame in asking for help," you said to him, staring into his eyes with a look full of love. He nodded his head while he was still holding you tight, Sanji placed a soft kiss on your cheek, making you smile more. "Where would I be without you, Y/N?" he whispers to you caressing your hair. Your heart starts pounding faster as he tells you these words, making you feel loved and forget why you were angry with him. You're too in love with Sanji that there's no way you could hold a grudge when you are with this lovely man.

#sanji x reader #straw hat sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roanoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #roronoa zoro #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece #one piece fluff #one piece fanfiction #one piece angst #angst #fluff

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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago

Text

And Your Name Is? (Jade, Leona, Riddle)

Synopsis- After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.

But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.

a/n: Look, I don't know who decided to make MICKY MOUSE a sadman deadwife in Disney's attempt at animal crossing but it gave me ideas. This is shamelessly based off that questline, feel free to request other characters. Everyone deserves a chance at angst. This probably won't be the last time I'll write something with this sort of premise meh

notes: angst with the intent of comfort, Jade is a red flag. Otherwise mild.

Jade Leech

It’s a wonder you ever lived here. Ramshackle is cold, Jade can’t bring himself to say lifeless for fear of speaking a crueler fate into existence, but the word’s on the tip of his tongue nonetheless. It’s a pity this is where you call “home,” but he can work with this. He can sweep up the cobwebs, dust every broken surface before popping the timbers back into place, figure out how to repair the upholstery so long as he sees the shimmery light that forms your shape begin to fill in. He knows if he reaches for you that you will disappear, so he lets you observe as he keeps you in the corner of his eye. Jade is careful, methodical, even as his hands shake as he launders your sheets and fluffs pillows on a bed he really wants to burn for its audacity to be so uncomfortable. He vaguely recalls requesting you make one room of this place into a giant terrarium once, a silly request he’s sure he’d make again if he could just speak to you, for no other reason than to hear you laugh. But, he supposes as he slips himself into your bed reaching out towards the in between as if he can pull you from the here and there with the sheer force of his longing; he is already sort of doing that. Just like the Sea Witch keeping creatures in glass bottles he’s trying to replicate the perfect environment for you.

“Jade?”

“I’m here.” he murmurs, not daring to open his eyes just yet, instead reaching for where he thinks your face should be. “Do you hear me? It’s past your bedtime, prefect.”

“Jade.”

“It’s awfully lonely here.” He hates the way he sounds. It’s too raw, too clear with his intent to be the tease he wants it to be. “Won’t you come to bed?”

“Jade!” His eyes open, his hand lands on you, the real you, not a shade made up of his memory, he manages to crush the urge to cry and pulls you up into his embrace. Your eyes are unfocused, confused but moving towards his touch as if you were searching for it. “W-who.. I have to find…” You move, on instinct towards his heartbeat, as he slowly strokes your arms to soothe your shaking. “Jade… I’m looking for-”

“You found me.” Jade is gentle, careful as he searches over you for any sign of distress or injury, sighing in relief when he only finds confusion. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember specifics. It doesn’t matter to him if you’ve forgotten your own name, Jade’s known and loved you for three timelines now, he’ll remind you of who you are if that’s what you want. In the meantime, he slowly encloses you in the safety of his embrace and tries not to smile too wide as you naturally relax into him. He will build you a beautiful garden in this world, and nothing will ever harm you this badly ever again, he swears it.

Leona Kingscholar

How many times has he been forced to watch you die? He’s not sure, his memory clearly doesn’t want to cooperate with him out of fear he’ll consider the failures a waste of energy, consider you wasted energy. Give in to the self-sabotaging part of him that never wanted to love you in the first place and abandon you to your fate, and yet no matter how many times he held your limp form in his arms he never had. There was something mildly addicting in the realization that you chose him in every lifetime. Not that stupid lizard or stuck up diva, him the second born, grumpy, lazy lion.

“Leona?” Your shade has always been able to speak, and Leona’s always been able to hear it. It’s like you’re trying to retrace your steps through time, starting with your meeting in the botanical gardens up to your stay in his room. He tries to tell himself you’re like a flea burrowing its way into his skin, irritating in your presence, unwelcome. He tries to tell himself if you didn’t mean enough to this world to keep a corporeal form that you shouldn’t mean anything to him. If Twisted Wonderland rejected you then so should he.

“Leona.” He hates how alone you sound. He hates how he can see you around the gardens but can’t hear footsteps, see you sitting on the edge of the balcony but not smell you. He really wants to hate you.

“I have to… promised… Leona…”

“I’m here you know.” he mutters, half asleep under the heavy curtain of vines in the botanical gardens. “You wanna keep your promise? Then quit runnin away.” Silence. Always silence, even in his dreams no matter how hard he tries to will you back into existence. He wants to stare you down, he really does, but how is he supposed to be anything but shocked when it's really you in front of him, listless and confused.

“Leona?” You’re confused, that much is clear. He wonders, smugly as he rises without complaint for once, if his name is the only thing you remember. The flicker of fear in your eyes is something he can do without, but if you know his name then somewhere inside that empty head of yours should be the same memories that have been plaguing him.

“I hope you’re prepared.” his tail swishes in excitement, and though you remain confused he delights in how you remain unafraid. “For just what you signed up for by callin my name.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Your shadow likes to sit in the Heartslabyul rose garden. Riddle is thankful for that, his gaze is hard to avoid here. He can keep an eye on you this way while he tries to find a solution for… whatever this is. It’s sickening, really, how useless he is without a rulebook or a study guide to follow. His memories of the past time loops might be blurry but he wonders if you ever felt frustrated with him in any of them. Someone as beautiful and wonderful as you constantly choosing someone as boring as him, he wants to be proud. He wants to point out that he is clearly in the right, in some sort of way, he has to be if he was loved in any way by you. It hurts him all the more to be so useless to you, to find so little concrete about the here and there and be told by every adult he reaches out to that the only thing they know is that no one who goes there ever comes back.

His dormmates like to keep a degree of distance from you. Riddle knows that they don’t know it’s you, he’s tried to explain to them multiple times and seen as they fight hard against whatever magic is trying to erase you from Twisted Wonderland to remember clearly who you were. It’s especially hard to watch Ace and Deuce loop through their worry over you and their anger at having forgotten only to get lost in the fog once again. He had to stop himself from trying, causing your best friends pain wouldn’t bring you back to them, to him. Riddle’s stubborn, he can take the confused looks of his house when he insists they let him have a private tea party with the strange ghost that’s taken up residence in their maze.

“I’m uncertain if our professors remember what happened, but I can say with certainty some of the material has changed. It’s a relief that the quality of our education hasn’t regressed.” He pours you a cup of tea, working off of muscle memory he can’t recall the context for anymore to make it in a way you must have liked. “I’ve been taking detailed notes on what my freshmen have been learning, when you return-” his voice cracks in panic as your shadow’s outline flickers “when you return…” he tries, softer this time focusing on gently setting down the tea pot “I’ll make sure you aren’t left behind. Ace and Deuce will keep their memories this time and we’ll all get to hang out together again, you’ll always have- you always have had a place in Heartslabyul, so please, please come back.” Riddle likes to think of himself as an adult, but he pouts and cries so easily. He can feel the tears bubbling up and obscuring his vision. Hiding the view of your shadow’s shape filling in.

“Riddle?” He hiccups, undignified, unbelieving the sight he’s seeing. You look so small, so confused but still so concerned for him, pausing to reach for a napkin to wipe his tears despite how unfocused you otherwise seem to be. You reach for him, shaky but still determined. “Are you Riddle?” you whisper. “I’ve been searching for him, I promised not to let go of his hand.” Riddle reaches for your hand with both of his, leaning into you. “I’m worried he’s lonely.”

“I was.” He isn’t crying anymore, Riddle likes to think he never will again as he presses a kiss into your palm. “You can rest now prefect, you’ve made it home.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech

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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year ago

Text

Day 13- Oral { Female Receiving }

Fandom: Uncharted 4 / Uncharted: The Lost Legacy.

Character: Samuel ‘Sam’ Drake

Warnings: Oral { receiving }, light fingering.

Digging your nails into the sheets, you did your best to bite back a moan. You can feel the man’s smirk against your inner thigh, his thumb slowly rubbing your clit.

“Come on Princess. I know you, you don’t gotta hold back. I wanna hear you scream.”

Shivering, you let your eyes glance over at the man bucking your hips against his fingers. “You’re such an ass.”

Grinning, Sam pinned you hips against the bed as he worked his fingers in your warmth. “Don’t worry darlin, I’ll make you be screamin my name soon enough.”

You want to scoff though the only thing that spills from your lips is a moan as you feel his tongue slide across your slit. Another gasp left your lips as you bucked you hips, a playful chuckle coming from Sam as he placed your legs over his shoulders.

“You know beautiful, it’s gonna be hard tearing my gaze off you when you’re lookin so good.” Grinning, Sam then gave your slit a slow lick keeping your hips firmly in place.

“Sam.” You turned your head away, your hands now digging into his shoulders.

“It’s hot, seein you like this. Moanin for me, gettin reading to come.” Sam shifted his body against the bed as he buried himself between your legs, his tongue pushing inside of you.

Your hands tangling into his hair as your back arches off the bed. “Fuck,” you moan.

You can feel Sam grin as he does it again. With his tongue inside of you, his thumb returns to your clit, making your body convulse uncontrollably. Your heart pounding in your chest as you gripped his host tightly. Your hips grinding against the movement of his tongue.

Your moans echoing through out the room, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.Your orgasm is building again, and this time you don’t say anything. Last thing you want is for him to stop. With each lick and swipe of his tongue you inch closer to the finish line. The moans and swears cannot be helped as you begged Sam for more.

Darting his tongue in and out, Sam started to suck your clit helping you reach your orgasm. As the man sucked your clit he started to work his in and out of your pussy brushing your walls and soon your were coming.

Your walls clenching around his fingers, your juices soaking the man’s face as he with drew himself away from your soaked pussy.

Running his thumb across his lips, Sam could still taste you on the tip of his tongue. Crawling on top you you, small shudder ran through your body feeling the man’s erection against your thigh.

“The nights not over yet beautiful. I’m just gettin started.”

#drabbles #drabble #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #sam drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #Sam Drake x you #Samuel drake x you #uncharted #uncharted x reader #uncharted x you #uncharted the lost legacy #uncharted 4

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maislovebot · 1 year ago

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Top 10 bsd characters oral scenarios: Atsushi Nakajima

I can’t believe I’m actually done with this series:’) Idk what I’m gonna do now. Maybe I’ll open up requests?

Similar to the Sigma chapter, this was written before any of the other oral scenarios, so it’s not nearly as good as the others. I did put it through some serious proofreading though, so hopefully it reaches your standards!

Contains: afab reader, gender neutral prns, pwp, overstim (I just realized literally every chapter has overstim omg), premature ejaculation, reader calls him ‘dear’ and ‘atsu’, Atsu calls reader ‘beautiful’, dry humping, implied shower sex, implied dacryphilia, atsu is so sweet, kinda pussy-drunk atsu but not nearly as bad as Ango and Sigma were in their chapters

You gasped and ground your hand into the sheets below you, Atsushi clearly having no intention of stopping any time soon. He’d normally make you cum two or three times before he’d even considered touching himself, which is a nice sentiment, but you had already cum quite a few times and Atsushi still showed no signs of letting up. He was clearly distracted by the taste of your juices and the wet, sloppy sounds coming from your spent cunt. How many times have you come? Was it four? Maybe even five? You weren’t sure anymore.

“Haah—Atsushi—please..!”

Atsushi had his tongue on your clit while his hands held your hips down, keeping you from moving out of place, leaving you with just enough room to buck your hips into his mouth more, feeling overstimulated but unable to pull your hips away. It felt so overbearing, but at the same time, it felt so good. You had yet to find something you could accurately compare it to, the pleasure Atsushi could bring you with his mouth alone was unmatched.

Your rather unclear directions were met with a hum and a small whimper from Atsushi as you dragged your fingers through his hair, your thighs clamping around his head tightly, eyes half lidded. You pushed his bangs back, showing off his face sufficiently better than before. When you opened your eyes that were previously clamped shut, you saw a look of determination in Atsushi’s eyes, and it made you whine and desperately clench around nothing. He could feel your gaze lingering on his, and he looked into your eyes and saw your teary eyes and how your jaw was hanging open slightly. The loud sounds you let out whenever his tongue lingered on your clit for just a little too long making him throb against the mattress. He kept the same pace with his tongue, but he did begin to apply more pressure to your clit, making you yelp out yet again.

You tried to arch your back, but your efforts were fruitless as Atsushi held you in place with his hands on your hips, and his fingers grinding into your hip bone with just enough pressure to keep you down, but not enough to bruise.

Atsushi didn’t want you to bruise, he wanted to drive you to orgasm again and again, he wanted to have you practically crying by the end of it all. He wanted to feel that addicting feeling of you wrapping your thighs around his head as you tremble with pleasure, with your forehead forming beads of sweat from his movements. He was determined to hear those precious moans and whines, maybe you’d mix the two here and there and cry a little. Considering how well he knew your body, it wasn’t difficult to get to that point. You swear he knows your body better than he knows his own.

Your thighs shook around his head just like he wanted, and you whined even louder than before, trying to get a single word of warning out for what was to come.

“At-Atsushi—close—” you forced out, your brain running one hundred miles a minute. Time slowed, but he didn’t. You were in desperate need of a break, so your brain started processing everything slower, which did not match well with the way he kept going at the same, pitifully fast speed. He kept going, patiently waiting for you to reach your high. With that, you came. You moaned loudly as Atsushi kissed your clit lightly, before continuing his work, but at a slower pace to help ease you through your orgasm. You tried to arch your back yet again, but you still couldn’t. Atsushi noticed this, and removed his hands from your hips.

You breathed heavily, and slowly loosened your thighs tight grip around his head, tilting your head back.

You kept laying down to catch your breath, and Atsushi pulled away from your thighs, the bottom half of his face covered in your slick, wiping it off with his hand and licking a small amount of it off of his hand, wiping the rest on the sheet.

You turned your head away from him, clearly embarrassed. Atsushi noticed you turned your head away and he tilted his head curiously before seeing your face heat up.

“You licked it off your own hand.” You said, noticing his curiosity, trying to explain your actions.

He laughed and rested his head between your thighs again.

“Are you up for more?” He questioned. While he did love when your eyes filled with tears, he couldn’t help but worry he may have gone too far.

You were. Of course you were. As overwhelming as his overstimulation was, it also felt so, so good. He had a way with his tongue, and it never failed to make you feel all warm inside.

You nodded, and he shoved his face between your thighs yet again, grinning like a giddy little kid. Atsushi kissed your right inner thigh, before slowly tracing down to your knee, giving a feather light kiss to the top of it.

Atsushi didn’t hold your hips this time around, instead allowing you free reign to do as you pleased. You, of course, noticed this and wanted to take advantage of it, but once he had brought his tongue back to your clit, you were caught off guard because he was adding something extra.

His fingers.

His ring and middle fingers.

You felt him tease at your entrance while still licking your clit shamelessly. The way he teased you with his fingers didn’t even seem like he was trying to tease you. He just seemed reluctant if anything, making you curious.

He pulled away gently, and asked you something, confirming your suspicions.

“Are you fine with me using my fingers too?”

You giggled, “yes, Atsu. That’s fine. In fact, I’d love that.”

Atsushi nodded and slowly pushed his fingers inside of you, adoring the way you clenched around him. The two fingers he used were comfortable, and it was nice; it was a slight stretch, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You especially adored the way he curled his fingers upward to press against your g-spot. He decided to switch up his movements with his tongue as well, and he began to suck on your clit. You gasped loudly, and ground your cunt into his face almost instantly.

Atsushi got a look of worry from the loud gasp you let out. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little painful, but it was in the best way possible. It hurt from the overstimulation, but Atsushi had no way of knowing that, and it was evident by the way he quickly brought his head up and pulled himself up and over to linger over your face, looking worried.

“Did I hurt you?”

You took a moment to process his worry, confused until all the gears turned in your head. You smiled and brought your hands up to his hair, gently pulling him down. You brought his nose to your lips, and you lightly kissed the tip of it, making him redden.

“No, you didn’t, dear. I was just surprised by how sudden it was,” you kissed his lips, “and how good it felt.”

You kissed him again and again all over his face, and every time your kisses made his arms tremble a little more until he gently fell to the side of you.

“Now, are you okay?” You turned your head to face him, smiling at how red the tips of his ears were.

“Mhm, you’re just very..sweet.” You giggled at his wording and turned over to face him again, kissing all over his face. You could feel your orgasm quickly melting away, and once you turned to face him you shamelessly began to grind against him. He groaned into your mouth from the way you grinded against his clothed cock. His groans quickly turned into whines, and he began to rock against you as well. He was made to meet you, he was sure of it. He’d be at a loss if he’d never met you, you meant the world to him.

He wanted to prove it.

He kissed you deeper, bringing his right arm to the back of your head, turning his body to linger over you again. He kept his left balanced in order to hold himself up so as to not crush you. Your back was lifted from the bed with the way he lifted your head up, so you curled into the kiss, bringing your hands up to grab the sides of his face.

You and Atsushi stayed there like that until you began running out of air. Atsushi pulled away from you and panted slightly, removing his hand from behind your head allowing you to gently fall backwards onto the bed again. He brought his arm to the side of your head to play the same role as his left arm, keeping him from falling over.

You two laid like that for a few seconds, looking into each other's eyes.

Atsushi liked your eyes. They were pretty, and they told him so much about you with so little words actually being said. He loved how no matter what he thought he did wrong, or how low he felt, your eyes always showed him unconditional love. He also thought that they looked fantastic when they were half lidded under him, or above him, or at any angle, if he was being honest. He couldn’t for the life of him pick a favorite.

Atsushi suddenly remembered what he was doing, and flinched.

“Oh—sorry, you’re probably waiting. I got distracted.”

He looked at you as he slid back down to your thighs, and saw you smile. “It’s fine. I got distracted, too. Your eyes are really pretty, you know.” Watching your smile turn into a smirk made him tremble a little.

Atsushi slid himself down and smiled, then he left another kiss on your clit.

Atsushi continued what he was doing earlier, and sucked on your clit while putting two of his fingers inside of you, when he did he could feel your walls clench around his fingers and he shuddered.

Oh god, I need to feel that around me. Atsushi thought, letting the thought bounce around in his head before he ground himself into the sheets, making what was routine licking become just a little bit more messy. That’s okay. You fucking loved it.

You were letting out small moans until Atsushi curled his fingers up just slightly, making you cry out.

Atsushi didn’t allow this to go unnoticed, and he kept bending more and more slowly, until he began scissoring his fingers inside you as well, causing a choked cry to leave your lungs, and for your thighs to tremble again.

Atsushi didn’t let up, continuing this routine, not too fast but not too slow, either.

His tongue sucking on your clit like he was starved, and his fingers bending and scissoring you. Atsushi appeared much more desperate than the last time he went down on you only a few minutes ago, because he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips into the bed, and whimpering slightly, sending vibrations up your spine.

All the emotions became too much for him, him feeling genuinely loved for one of the first times ever, the love coming from you, even though you guys had sex before, it was remarkable every time. It made him emotional, and it embarrassed him a little. He couldn’t help himself from tearing up as he played with your clit like there was no tomorrow. There could be no tomorrow for all he cared about at this point. He was always desperately looking for a valid reason for him to stay alive, and that reason was right in front of him. Trembling and crying, almost cumming around his fingers.

You wanted to tell him that you were close, but you couldn’t even get your mind to think straight for anymore than a few seconds. All you could manage out was a pathetic “c-close..” before Atsushi had quickly switched places with his tongue and fingers.

He brought his tongue down to your hole with your warning, and thrusted his tongue desperately, putting his thumb over your clit and rubbing small circles relentlessly.

He was getting carried away, and he subconsciously knew it. He was going to end up making you actually cry if he kept this up, instead of just crying out small semblances of a sentence. But he couldn’t stop. Him fucking you with his tongue made you cry out his name, and he ground into the bed.

“Atsushi!” You cried out his name, maybe just a little too loudly. He quickly grabbed your hips and pulled you even closer to his face than before, making it so you couldn’t go anywhere.

“Aaa..At..”

As he kept going, you wanted to cry out his name but you began to lose the strength to do so, your thighs unable to hold themselves up anymore. Your thighs weakly fell limp next to his head, your arms not grinning the sheets as tightly anymore either.

After a certain point you couldn’t even say his name anymore. He made his tongue faster and watched your whole tense up as you came hard. On his face.

He didn’t stop there. He licked up your cum, and in the process, kept licking your clit. That certainly brought a spike of life back to you, as you jumped.

“Atsushi.. ‘s too much! Please, I can’t handle it!”

His eyes widened and he abruptly stopped, letting go of your hips. You sighed, thoroughly overstimulated.

“I’m sorry. I took it way too far.”

He moved his face into the crook of your neck, and he breathed on you.

“No, you didn’t. I-I’ve never felt that good before.” You comforted him, and ran your fingers through his hair.

“You’re crying!” He said while moving his head away from your neck just to get another look at your fucked out face.

You smirked, looking at his teary eyes.

“Who says that’s a bad thing?” He became aware of his flushed cheeks and watery eyes, whining when you wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You clearly don't think it is.”

He flushed, and he brought his hands up to wipe your tears away too.

“You have a point..” he trailed off before leaning into your neck again.

You assumed you guys would be staying like that for a few minutes, but Atsushi kept shifting uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” You asked, still out of breath from what had happened just minutes ago.

“Uhm.. I..”

You were confused before you glanced down and realized what had happened.

Ah.

“Did you really—”

“—yeah.” He replied cutting you off.

He had come, almost completely untouched. The only ‘stimulation’ he was really getting was from grinding against the bed towards the end of your little session.

You smiled, finding his embarrassment cute. You scratched his scalp gently, gently pushing him off of you and tried to stand, only for your legs to give out under you, your legs trembling as you fell back onto the bed. Atsushi grabbed your shoulders lightly to make your landing less impactful, even if you were only falling onto the bed.

“Guess you really did fuck me good. And you only used your tongue.”

Atsushi flushed again, and turned away from you. Making you lift your hand to his chin, turning his head back to you.

“I’d hate for you to have to sit in wet boxers all night. How about we go and take a bath? We can keep going at it in there.”

Atsushi nodded, and got even more red while helping you up, grabbing your shoulders to keep you standing before just picking you up completely. Him picking you up relieved all pressure you originally had and you buried yourself in his neck almost immediately, legs wrapped around his waist.

He smiled, and placed you on the counter before running the bath water.

‘ God, they’re beautiful. ’

Wc - 2.6k

Sorry I’m ovulating

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