#Last week when I was listening to the album again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

taintandviolent · 6 months ago

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Master ; Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: [PART ONE HERE!] It's been a few days since Eddie Munson and reader had their little hookup in the back of his van, and she's jonesing for more. After a D&D campaign, Eddie invites her back to his trailer.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.8K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), light bondage, no use of y/n, fucking to music (because he would), eating out, p in v, slight cockwarming at the end.

a/n: i am so overwhelmed by the response to my first eddie fic!!! you guys are CRAZY! thank you though, from the bottom of my heart. i hope this part lives up to the last part! ps: i've never played d&d, so just ignore how bland that section is. thanks. ps #2: the album that eddie puts on is Ride the Lightning, so if you wanna' listen to that while you read.... please do. not beta-read, yada yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

For the most part, everything had returned to normal with the very welcomed exceptions of a few heated glances, some knowing smiles, and the occasional touch when he passed by you. All of which had you reeling, viciously fanning the embers of your desire for him. Many times throughout the week, you’d considered approaching him for one reason or another, but you were holding out for reasons unbeknownst to you.

In other news, Jason had requested a new lab partner - or tried - but Mrs. Cowan didn’t bother entertaining his request, much to your dismay. So the last period was spent with him, trying to remain cordial, but silently cursing everything he did.

That morning, you’d woken up with a fiery craving for Eddie. It couldn’t be sated by merely thinking of him, or watching him from afar. You need to feel him again. Out front of Hawkins High, you bend down to retrieve your backpack, nestling your patterned Trapper Keeper in the crook of your arm.

And as if on cue…

“I’m your turbo lover! Better run for cover!”

You freeze and straighten up, a chill shuddering up your spine. There’s no way someone is just playing that song. Your thighs press together tightly, as if doing so is inhibiting anything. You spin around, searching for the source of the music. And boy, do you find it. Eddie’s van screeches around the corner, just in front of you.

You watch as Eddie then pulls into a parking spot, his arm hanging out the window of the van. He lifts it, giving you a casual wave, even though that gesture is anything but casual. For a moment, you’re almost mad. He’s all but ruined that song for you, because now all you can think about is him fingerbanging you in the back of his van. You let out a frustrated huff as the music dies off and the door creaks open.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says as he passes, his voice dripping with nonchalance. Your mouth gapes open, appalled that he didn’t tackle you in kisses right then and there. You watch, wordlessly, as he takes the steps two at a time and march after him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He wasn’t getting away from you that quickly. Thankfully, this semester, you had two classes with him; English in the morning and History after lunch. The little game he was playing was vicious and mean, and you hated it.

“Eddie, wait!” You call, trotting down the hallways. He slows his pace and gradually turns, a sly expression on his face.

“Yeees?”

“What are you doing?”

“Uh.. y’know… just going to class.” He answers coolly, nodding his head towards Miss Tipton’s door. You steal a glance at his body; he’s wearing a Metallica shirt with his go-to black jeans, and he’s got a black backpack slung over his right shoulder. His hand is clamped around the handle of that lunchbox he always carries, his rings clanking together as he adjusts his grip. You remember what those rings felt like, entangled in your own fingers. At the lewd thought, you have to withhold a sigh. He’s so… you dig your nails into the plastic of your binder, growling slightly.

“You can’t just…” You stutter, looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “I’m going crazy over here.”

“Yeah? So what do you want me to do about it?” Suddenly walking you backwards, he urges you against someone’s locker, his belt buckle pressing hard into your stomach. Your breath comes out in a rush. “You want me to do it right here?”

He brushes the backs of his fingers along your jawline, teasingly. Your eyes drift behind him, watching people’s eyes flit to you and widen as they pass. A few people snigger and make some comments, likely disparaging in nature. Of course, they must be thinking, who would want to be that close to the Freak of Hawkins? You groan inwardly and lean your head back against the slotted metal.

“No… we can’t.”

“Then you’re gonna’ have to be patient, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His voice is husky and low, his breaths washing over your face. You frown slightly, but nod. You’d gotten something… the warmed, lingering sensation of his hips pressed against yours was enough to get you through the rest of the day, at least. He backs off, smirking, and reaches for the door, pulling it open. With eyebrows raised, he holds the door for you, letting you duck underneath his arm.

Once in the classroom, you pick a seat and settle in. After a few moments, Miss Tipton turns to the chalkboard to write something and in doing so, turns her back away from the class. A few seconds later, something hits your shoulder, bouncing off of it. You look down at your feet and spot a folded up piece of notebook paper. Making sure that the teacher is still occupied, you bend down and scrape your fingers against the floor, scooping it into your grasp. You quickly unfold it, your eyes scanning over the scrawled letters.

Today after last period. Meet me in the theatre.

EDDIE

PS: I miss the way you taste.

Your stomach tightens. Tucking your face into your shoulder, you sneakily peer back behind you. To your right, a few seats down, Eddie meets your gaze and feigns innocence, widening his eyes at you before casually scratching the side of his face with a capped pen. You withhold a smile and turn back around, tucking the note into your binder. Class continues without a hitch. In fact, it goes by surprisingly quickly.

After class, you hurry to the payphone outside, dial home and bring the receiver to your ear. It rings twice before you hear your mother’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Honey, is everything okay?” You can hear the worry in her voice.

You smile, leaning against the nearby brick wall. “Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to call you and let you know that I’m going to be home later today. I’m uh… thinking about joining a club.”

“A club? At school? Honey, that’s great. Just be careful, okay?”

You straighten up, hunching over the payphone again. “I will, I promise. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye-bye.”

Every class speeds by, having been spent fantasizing. You’re in deep, too deep maybe. Short of drawing hearts around his name, you’ve allowed yourself to become completely wound around his guitar-calloused fingers, you’ve imagined every scenario possible and succeeded in riling yourself up throughout the day. Prepwork, you’d call it.

So, later that afternoon, when you make it to the theatre, quietly opening one of the double doors, you’re almost disappointed that it’s a room full of boys. Sure, Eddie’s there, sitting at the head of the table, but it’s a room full of boys all the same. Foolishly, Hellfire Club wasn’t a frontrunner in your thoughts, you hadn’t even considered it or the fact that he had invited you to one of the sessions, and you’d agreed. You grimace and take a few steps forward, bringing yourself out of the shadows.

“Ah, she arrives.” Eddie’s voice booms, echoing in the acoustics of the theatre. He’s oozing confidence, and you bite your lip, silently talking your own arousal down.

“Hey guys,” you say, trying to mask your nerves with a casual wave. “Eddie invited me.”

“Indeed I did.” He’s perched on an ornately carved chair, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together. Eddie then jumps over the arm of the chair and bends down, retrieving something from his backpack. Casually, but almost theatrically, he strolls over. Once he’s in front of you, he reaches for your hand, pulling it up and carefully lays the item in your hands, his fingertips grazing the edge of your palm. It’s a Hellfire Club shirt, just like the one he wears. A smirk crawls across your lips; you were now technically in possession of two of his shirts.

After changing behind the heavy velvet curtains, you get situated in one of the empty seats, and Eddie explains the campaign, setting the scene with all of his elaborate, fantastic descriptions. This guy was a natural born storyteller, and you could tell he had a passion for this silly little game. Too quickly, it came to be your turn. You had no idea what you were doing, and you realize that you haven’t been paying attention at all. Your attention was… elsewhere the entire time. Panic grips your throat as everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for your roll.

“Uhhh,” You look apprehensively at the dice in your palm. Unlike regular dice, they have way too many sides and you don’t know what you need to achieve. Eddie assured you that you’d get the hang of it, but so far… you haven’t. “I have no idea but roll a one-hundred to charm the DM?”

“One-hundre— WHAT! That doesn’t even make sense. She’s not even playing!” The kid with the curly hair – Dusty? Dustin? – sounded frustrated. He took this very seriously. They’d all briefly introduced themselves as you’d sat down, but your attention had been on and still was on Eddie the entire time, so you hardly retained any of their names. You are enchanted with his energy tonight; the way he masterfully navigates the campaign, engaging with each of the rolls and weaving an intricate story that none of the other players can predict, but adore all the same.

You two make eye contact. Eddie withholds a smile. You can see it — the middle of his plush lips start to spread across his teeth but he reels it back in. It takes an immense amount of self control, but you don’t make finger guns at him. Instead, you toss the dice back onto the table, not bothering to watch what you’d rolled. With a groan, you lean back in the chair, which creaks in protest. “Fine,” you lamented, lacing your fingers behind your head. “I’ll just watch. I don’t understand this anyway.”

“Lady Terowyn,” he starts, saying the name that he’d given you at the start. He holds your gaze strongly, leaning forward in his chair and gripping the sides of the table, his rings clanking against the wood. “You seem to have acquired a ferocious malady. You can roll again in hopes that Blossom Tealeaf will assist you with a cure…”

“Who was Blossom Tealeaf again?” You ask, almost exasperated and look around at the other players. Dustin rolls his eyes, slumping down in his chair. “Alright, alright. Sheesh. I’ll accept this… illness and just watch this time.”

“Alright, then. Lady Terowyn succumbs to the vicious curse and perishes. What shall you do?”

The boys fall into a heated discussion and Eddie’s eyes find yours again. Without saying anything, he’s saying a lot. He’s smiling like he did before he kissed you, and the thought drives you insane. You have half a mind to climb across the table and go sit in his lap, sweeping your hips back and forth until his cock hardens underneath you, but you wouldn’t dare interrupt his campaign; it means too much to him and the others.

So, you sat. You sat, commenting, cheering the boys on when they figured something out, and gasped when their fearless dungeon master bested them yet again. Eventually, they warmed up to you, the coldness gone from their responses, even going so far as to involve you in some of the discussions. This went on for a few hours, until finally, they lost against the merciless beast that they’d been fighting. After the group dispersed outside, Eddie towed you to his van, promising he’d take you home.

He pulls you into a kiss, his tongue dancing along your lower lip and slipping inside to wrestle with yours. You moan into his mouth, and slide your hands into the warmth inside his leather jacket. Never breaking the kiss, he gently pushes you against the side of his van, the metal cool behind your back. One of his hands moves to your leg, hitching it up around his waist to bring you even closer to him. He bucks his hips into you once, and your breath hitches.

“It really is fun,” he starts, brushing his lips against your neck, trailing delicate kisses down the length of it. “Y’know… if you’d actually try playing it.”

You whine, tilting your head to the side and allowing more space for him to kiss. “Listen, I was distracted, okay?”

“Oh, by what?”

“Like you don’t know.”

Eddie chuckles, a breathy sound just underneath your earlobe. His lips ghost down your neck, stopping at a place between it and your shoulder, and he sucks the skin into his mouth. You wince at the sudden pressure, but don’t protest. It’ll inevitably leave a mark, and it seems he knows it. Smiling at the reddened skin, he leans back to look at you, to gaze into your half-lidded eyes.

“You wanna’ go back to my place? Wayne’s outta’ town…”

You aren’t sure who Wayne is… but the implications of that hang heavy between you two. For a moment, you say nothing, letting your gaze drift back and forth between his eyes and his lips, but finally, you nod. Eddie grins and is dragging you around to the passenger side before you have a chance to change your mind. He throws open the door and circles his hand in front of it, beckoning you inside. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

You can’t help but smile – the theatrics of his campaign are clearly still lingering. Once you’re in, Eddie shuts the door and hurries back around to the other side, retrieving his keys from his pocket. Tossing a confident smile your way, he stabs them into the ignition, turns them and the engine of the van roars to life.

The drive from the high school to the trailer park takes about ten minutes, but feels like twenty. Every time he pulls up on a stop sign, his hand drifts over to your thigh. He kneads it, his rings bumping together. Just when it starts to get good, just when his hand starts to drift up your skirt, he pulls it away, and accelerates.

Once you’re inside, Eddie flips on the lights and turns to you, expectantly. He knows what’s coming. He’s been riling you up the entire ride. The second the door is shut, your lips are on him, smearing hot, wet kisses all over his neck and jawline. Eddie’s laughing breathily, his hands roaming around your waist and ass. “So needy,” he says.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we….” Your voice trailed off, meeting his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Eddie keeps you there, holding your face tightly. He walks you backwards past the kitchen towards his bedroom until the back of your calves hit the mattress, and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands trail up your waist, winding around the front of your body. It’s warm to the touch, and Eddie smiles as his large hands cup your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god…”

You claw at his leather jacket, trying to push it off his shoulders. You can’t get enough of him, and want him naked on top of you immediately. Enough teasing, enough foreplay. You’re desperate for him.

“Someone’s grabby. We’ll fix that.” He pushes you lightly backwards onto the bed, your ass bouncing against the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest.

He reaches around, pulling the black bandana from his back pocket, and shakes it out from its folded state. The heat that blossoms between your thighs is only worsening, becoming unbearable. One knee pressed into the bed, his body tilted slightly forward towards you. “Hands together, m’lady.”

At first, you stare, dumbfounded, up at him. He was… so cute. The dim, yellow lighting of the table lamp behind him creates a halo around his fluffy hair, akin to a renaissance painting. Some artist had to have painted an angel from this point of view… but there was nothing angelic about what was taking place. Nothing, because you were about to —

“Hello?” You blink once, twice. Had he been speaking the entire time? He quirks a brow, very obviously waiting for your response. His warm, chocolatey eyes hold yours in a death grip as he wraps the bandana around your wrists, tying it tightly in a knot. He hadn’t told you to look at him, at least not verbally. Deep down, you knew that you couldn’t look away if you tried. He knew that too. “Hands to yourself until I say so.”

“Yes, master.” He freezes, with his fingers still on the buckle of his belt and raises his head back up to look at you.

You try to speak, to undo what you’ve said, but only squeaks and a nervous string of ‘Uhhh’s come out. You drop your bound wrists into your lap with a dramatic huff, and roll your head back, staring embarrassed at the ceiling of his trailer. Truthfully, you hadn’t even known where that came from; you’d never called anyone ‘master’ in your entire life, and even mocked the concept. Master and Servant was a Depeche Mode song, not something you practiced in the bedroom.

“I don’t knoow — dungeon master? I don’t know where that came from, I’m — Eddie, please — PLEASE!” Your head snapped back up.

“Hey,” He cooed, brushing your bangs from your eyes. “It’s okay. I liked that. I just couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not.”

Eddie brings his face close to yours, nuzzling his nose against your cheeks. “Lay back for me, sweetheart.”

You do, bound hands resting on your stomach. Eddie shrugs out of his jacket, and pulls his shirt up from behind his back, tossing it onto the floor to join the rest of the clothes. You haven’t seen him shirtless before; the visual has your cunt clenching as your eyes dance over his tattoos, memorizing them.

You watch him with hearts in your eyes as he strolls half-naked over to his stereo, pops in a tape, shuts the door and hits play; the heavy sound of Metallica fills the small room. You smirk. He would. As the song builds, Eddie returns to the edge of the bed, creeping closer, walking his hands on the mattress until he’s close enough to press a kiss to each of your kneecaps. Just like before, he unzips your skirt and peels down your tights, taking his time with the action. Your breath catches in your chest when you feel his calloused fingers ghosting along the outside of your thighs, sweeping along the flesh as it prickles with goosebumps. It’s not cold by any means, but the sensation of his fingers has your skin reacting.

“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes…” he says, admiring the way you look, pantsless but still wearing the Hellfire Club shirt. “God damn… you should be on the cover of an album or something.” He tilts his head, staring for a moment longer before he’s pulling the shirt over your head, and yanking your panties over the wide curve of your hips.

The rest of your clothes join his on the floor of his bedroom, and you’re naked, lying on his stained sheets, writhing in anticipation. Eddie pulls your thighs apart carefully but forcefully, like he’s opening the jaws of a lion. He slots himself underneath your legs, hoisting your thighs onto the curve of his shoulders. As soon as you realize what’s about to transpire, he feels the sudden tension in your body and slides his hands up your waist tenderly.

“Just relax. I know what I’m doing.” His voice is commanding and heavy with desire.

Your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip; you feel your cunt clench at his lusty tone. You can feel your face flush with heat. Something about him makes you trust him, turn to putty in his grip – in fact, you’ve never trusted a man more in your life. You nod, inhaling a deep breath as he presses a kiss to your cunt. Some of your pathetic, shuddering whines are lost in the heavy guitar and drums of Metallica, which you’re grateful for. The feeling of his lips against her makes your whole body jerk violently, and Eddie’s hands are suddenly pressing down on your hips, holding them tight to the mattress.

“Easy, baby…”

You clench your jaws and shut your eyes, trying to slow your breathing, but that does little to pacify the feelings and how deeply he’s turning you on. His lips hover, his breath washing over her in small, warm gusts before he kisses her again, nuzzling his nose against the soft mound before his tongue slips in between the folds, flicking upwards. Still tied together, all you can do is lift your hands and wad them into tight fists. You could reach forward and push his head further into you, but he’d specifically ordered no touching. You whimper and writhe against the mattress, to which Eddie softly shakes his head against your cunt, muttering a ‘Mm-mm’, and again grips your hips tightly again, holding them in place.

“You like that?”

He swallows hard, before his tongue juts out again, toying with your clit, mercilessly flicking it back and forth and up and down. He encircles the swollen bundle of nerves and hums into your cunt, pleased at the visceral reaction from your body. Even over the music, you can hear the slick, suckling and slurping sounds he’s making, and above all, how wet you are, which is slightly mortifying, considering he’s only just started. Your juices leak onto his mattress, leaving yet another stain on his sheets.

“Words, sweetheart…” He pauses to say. One hand drifts between his legs, where he palms himself over his dark jeans. Eating you out has his cock achingly hard, and he wants nothing more than to sink it into you.

Words? You don’t even know what those are. You can barely form a single word, let alone an entire sentence as his tongue laps at you again, flattening out against your sensitive flesh. It takes you a few tries, but you finally manage to squeak out: “Huhhh- mmm-yeah. Gonna’... gonna’...”

Eddie pulls back slightly, pressing a single slick kiss against your inner thigh. “Yeah? So soon?”

You whimper, nodding. “Mmmh…. So…. so good…”

Bringing his hands underneath your ass, Eddie hoists your hips up, giving him a better angle to suck on your puffy clit. That does it – you’re unable to stop the floodgates. You cry out, bringing your bound hands to your face and pressing the balls of your palms against your mouth, pinching your bottom lip between them. Eddie swallows down your orgasm, bringing the tip of his tongue to your entrance as it squeezes.

As Eddie stands up and wipes the slick from his chin, the song changes, a single reverberating bell rings throughout the room. It brings a smirk to his lips. “For whom the bell tolls…” He says, running a single finger along the length of your quivering thigh. “The bell tolls for you, sweetheart.”

Completely spent, you lift your head weakly, brows peaked together in question. “Wh…what…”

Eddie palms himself again, stroking the swollen shaft through the fabric. His gaze is heavy, sweeping over your naked body as your chest heaves with laboured breaths. His long fingers move quickly, working to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. The jeans fall loose at his hips, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of a lewd outline and a spot where the blue plaid fabric has darkened with pre-cum. He kicks them off and steps out of the circle, smiling at you.

“Nothin’, baby. C’mere.”

Eddie gets onto the bed with one knee first, and walks his way over to you. You turn your head to look at him and heave a shaky sigh as he reaches underneath your torso, twisting you so you’re laying rightways on the bed, your head on a pillow.

“You ready?”

“R-ready for what?” You breathe.

“To have your world rocked, sweetheart.”

“Again?” You coo, looking up at him with big, dreamy eyes.

Eddie hooks his finger around the bandana and twists it around his index finger, tightening the fabric around your wrists. He yanks your hands up over your head, pressing them against the wall above. With his other hand still free, he pulls the waistband of his boxers down over the curve of his ass, allowing his heavy cock free. It slaps against his tummy, bobbing dangerously in front of your core. It occurs to you then how turned on he is over eating your pussy… his cock is leaking and twitching in front of you, begging for release.

Fuck.

At first, Eddie leans down, pressing his cock against your tummy as he kisses you. The kisses are sweet, tender, but passionate with a lingering hint of animalistic demand. He’s being gentle now, but you can feel the unbridled want behind his actions.

“Do it,” you say. “Fuck me.”

Eddie runs his tongue along his bottom lip and grins, taking hold of his cock with his free hand and giving it a few long strokes. A bead of precum oozes from the tip, stringing down to your stomach. He lines the tip up, and a warning pressure builds at your waiting entrance. You clench around the velvet soft head, and Eddie lets out a deep groan.

“Holy shit…” he says.

He tries to be gentle, but as soon as the tip breaches your slick hole and he feels how wet, how warm you are, he can’t help but sink every inch deep into you. He bucks his hips once, forcing his cock deep inside, and halts, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feeling of fullness. You gasp and tighten around him again, pulling a throaty sound from him.

He begins rocking his hips back and forth, his shaft sliding wetly out of you. It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to find a mind-shattering rhythm that has you gasping and clawing the wall above you. He holds onto your bound wrists still, pinning them tightly against the wall. The power in his thrusts come from his core, bucking relentlessly up into you.

You lift your legs slightly, scooting up and pressing the roundness of your ass against his torso. As he thrusts, his palm presses low into your stomach, rings denting the flesh.

Over the drums and guitar, the slick, hollow slop slop of his cock hammering into you fills the room, and your vision goes blurry as your lids drift shut.

“F-fuck, Eddie… fuck!”

His wanton, concentrating gaze drifts between your legs, watching as he impales you over and over again. You moan loud, much louder than James Hetfield was singing. Eddie shudders and groans, making a deep, almost pained sound.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that? Those moans are gonna’... Jesus Christ.”

You smile devilishly and meet his thrusts, rutting your hips against his. You see him clench his jaw, the muscles fluttering on the side of his face. The feelings are tantalizing him, and each jerk of his hips brings him closer to an orgasm.

“Jesus Christ,” he repeats, looking down at your sweat-glistened body, watching as your breasts rock back and forth with each movement of his hips. You strain against his grip, wanting so desperately to touch him.

“Master,” you whimper. “Let me touch your body… please….”

The singular word makes his cock twitch inside you. His other hand joins the right, and quickly undoes the knot of his bandana, tossing it behind him. Your greedy fingers immediately snap to his torso, clawing their way up his toned abdomen. Your digits trail over his tattoos, tracing them absentmindedly as Eddie keeps fucking into you, his jaw hanging slack, expression completely blissed out.

“Harder, Eddie,” you moan, pressing your head back into the pillow.

He obeys. Happily. He takes hold of your thighs, pressing them back against your body, exposing more of your cunt to him. His cock leaves you for a moment before he’s slamming back into you, heated and heavily.

It doesn’t take him long to reach a climax at this angle, or for you to reach your second one. You scream out, clawing at his abs as you clench around his dick, squeezing it in a vice-tight grip.

“Shit-shit-shit—” Eddie curses, looking down at your pussy. You feel the swelling throb of Eddie’s cock inside you as he paints you insides white. Your own orgasm has you shuddering against him, crying out his name.

Eddie collapses atop of you, his cock still inside, and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” you echo. “Yeah. It was.”

After a few minutes, you turn your head, and press a single kiss against his plump lips. “Soooo, can I sit at your table now? I’m tired of sitting at Jason’s preppy table.”

“Absolutely.”

#praying that this lives up to the first part lmao #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #myfics

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harrysfolklore · 11 months ago

Text

ring hard launch - blurb

the content we got today just SCREAMS fiancé!harry for me so i came up with this, enjoy !

gif by @sunkissedlouis <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If there was something that was definitely at the top of your list of favorite activities, was spending time with Harry.

It didn't matter if it was getting groceries, joining him for a bike ride or simply laying on the couch together, every moment that you spent together brought you contentment and joy that you couldn't find anywhere else.

And now that he was your fiancé, it was safe to say that both of you wanted to be glued to each other every single minute.

Harry proposed the morning of New Year's Eve, in the comfort of your home with both of you in your pajamas as you enjoyed homemade breakfast bagels, and it was absolutely perfect.

Ever since, you had been happier than ever, sharing the news with your family and closest friends and enjoying your engagement in private without prying eyes from paparazzi, fans and media.

"We better win tonight," Your train of thought was interrupted by Harry's voice, you were currently heading to the Luton vs Man United game, and even though you couldn't care less about football, your need to be close to him all the time made you say yes when he asked you to join him, "Thank you for tagging along, baby. I know this is not your scene so it's nice you came."

"I'm just here for the drinks and snacks," you teased, watching him roll his eyes at you, "And to enjoy the evening with my handsome fiancé, of course."

"There we go," he smiled now, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss to the ring on your finger.

Ever since you got engaged, that had became his favorite habit, and it made your heart flutter every single time.

"It sucks that I have to take it off," you said, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow, "The ring, I mean. I have to take it off before we get out of the car, otherwise headlines will go crazy and Jeff is going to freak out."

"Mm-hmm," he paused to think, eyes darting for the road to you, "What if... you don't have to take it off?"

"What do you mean?" you said, noticing that you were about to enter the back of the stadium.

"I mean..." he grabbed your hand again, tugging the ring affectionately, "What if we let the world know about it? I talked to Jeff and the rest of the team last week, they said we could make it public whenever we felt like it, at our own terms. So why don't we do it today?"

Harry parked the car at the spot that was reserved for him and turned to look at you with a wide smile, waiting for your answer.

"Are you sure?" you smiled back at him, noticing the glow in his eyes that almost made you melt.

"Couldn't be more sure, love. Besides, the album is coming soon and everyone is going to connect the dots as soon as they listen to the first song, might as well give them an early heads up."

"Let's do it," you said, leaning over to kiss him, "I feel like everyone is going to focus on the fact that you're finally outside and with brand new hair, they won't even notice the rock on my finger."

Harry rolled his eyes again and gave you another kiss, "I swear to god, woman. You're something else."

You headed inside of the stadium to the VIP suit you were going to watch the game in, walking hand in hand with your engagement ring glistening on your finger, cameras around filming and taking pictures of both of you.

"Do you think twitter is freaking out yet?" you asked Harry as you settled on your seats.

"No idea, baby, I don't use that app," he shrugged, "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Would you get me something fruity that has alcohol that doesn't quite taste like alcohol? That's the only way I won't be bored to death."

"Sure thing." Harry laughed and kissed the side of your head before standing up to get your drink, coming back a few minutes later with exactly what you asked and a bottle of sparkling water for himself.

"So we're rooting for Man U, right?" you asked as you took a sip from your drink.

"Seven years together, months away from getting married, yet you still don't know I'm a Man U ride or die," he put a hand on his chest, "I don't think this is going to work."

"I was just teasing, drama queen," you pecked his cheek, "I know your true loves are Man U, the Green Bay Packers, peas and Fleetwood Mac."

"And you," he winked, making you roll your eyes with affection and take another sip from your drink.

A few minutes into the game, you found yourself quite invested on it, constantly asking Harry about the stuff you didn't understand and getting nervous when the other team was about to score or your team missed a goal.

"Lord, I don't want to watch," you said as a player from the opposite team was getting ready to hit a penalty, hiding your face against Harry's shoulder, "Harry! You're supposed to be watching the game, you've been staring at me for half of it now."

"Sorry, you're just too cute," he kissed the crown of your head, "You can watch now, he failed it."

"Thank god."

By the end of the game, you were both on your feet, cheering as Man United secured a win. Harry was ecstatic, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, cheering alongside him.

While you were engulfed in your own bubble during the game, cameras has caught up on the ring of your finger, and Harry and you immediately became a world trending topic, with fans speculating whether you were actually engaged or not.

As you laid in bed scrolling through the millions of tweets about the game Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, ready to get in the covers.

"Are you reading about us?" he asked, sliding into bed beside you.

"Yeah," you replied, showing him some of the tweets, "But I don't think it was quite clear for some of your fans, some of them don't think we're really engaged."

"Well, I guess it'll be clear when the album comes out."

2K notes · View notes

httpknjoon · 24 days ago

Text

santa, tell me | myg

plot | that time in december where popstar!yn and bassist!yoongi agreed to do something.

w.c | 3.3K

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers

note | thank you for the lovely @marblemoonstones for sending this request. sorry it took so long. i hope you'll love it.

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

cont. of DAY 64 of Love Is... On Tour

"You didn't think that was all, right?"

Fans cheered for the last time, assuming that you just played your last song for tonight. But suddenly, a familiar tune plays in the whole arena. They cheered as the lights slowly turned up. The live band plays a prolonged intro to your famous holiday song. This time, Yoongi is back on his spot with the band, playing his guitar. You are now sitting on the throne with your candy cane.

"Alright, I need everyone to be honest right now. I have to ask y'all something." you begin, standing up. "What's your Christmas wishes to Santa?"

The fans from different sides of the arena shouted their individual wishes one by one. You walked to various parts of the stage to hear out some of their answers. As expected, you hear funny and crazy wishes.

A big dick!

"A what?!" you stopped at one's answer, eyes widened for a second.

The band and some members of the audience, who also heard that, laughed.

"I mean, that's a little naughty. But I'm sure Santa won't mind that one. List that down!" you turned your head to Yoongi, still in his Santa Claus suit. He played along, nodding his head with a thumbs up.

You were about to continue your fan interactions when you spoke again, "Oh, make that two! She isn't the only one wishing for that tonight."

The camera caught your playful wink, making your fans laugh and cheer. If a non-fan is in your show tonight, they will find your humor a little too sexual. Just like some people online who have big opinions about you and your ongoing tour, where a lot of suggestive stuff happens. But your latest album literally had a "Parental Advisory: Explicit Content" sticker on it when it was released since some of your songs were, again, sexual and included adult words. So, it is totally expected of you to have that kind of joke in you. And gladly, your fans were on the same wavelength.

My ex!

"Oh, your ex?" You repeated that one answer. You spotted that fan nodding. "Well... That's... a waste of a wish."

Your fans laughed, knowing that there was something behind your statement.

"An ex is an ex for a reason, love. Had to learn that in a very obvious way." You chuckled at your own mocking comment. "Anyway, any more wishes that Santa can list down?"

From the left side of the stage, you see a cardboard sign with a big statement written on it. Cute doodles related to Christmas and a few cutout pictures of you were added to the sign.

You read slowly, "We... want.. a... Christmas album?"

The arena was filled with cheers after you read that, agreeing to it. Your heart skipped with that reaction. Almost everyone in the venue knows that there is an ongoing rumor of you releasing one. And you don't where that came from but it was true.

It has been so long since you released a holiday-themed song. You only had one or two while a couple have been leaked before. But currently, you already have a collection of lyrics written in your notebook. But you need a little help with some melodies. With December already starting, you are now unsure if you should even release it.

"I don't know about that. Feels a little late to release that right now," you said, making your fans react with a loud boo.

It's only the first week of December!

Someone screamed so loud and clear, it was audible in the whole arena. Everyone agreed and cheered your name over and over again as a way to encourage you.

"We'll see about that." you smiled cheekily. "We'll see if Santa is listening to everyone's Christmas wishes tonight. Because for me, I feel like Santa and I don't really get along that much."

Yoongi hears his friends laugh next to him. He ignores them, waiting for how you will going to introduce this next song.

"But wasn't I a good girl this year, Santa?"

Unexpectedly, you turned to him for an answer. Yoongi shrugged his shoulders as a reply, making you roll your eyes. He tried not to smile, knowing that he successfully countered your attempt to get a reaction from him.

"See?" you looked back at your audience. "Anyway, I need to make sure Santa will hear my wishes tonight. So can you all sing with me for this last song?"

You smiled as the fans replied with a very loud and clear yes. Nodding to the band, they began playing louder and you started to sing,

"Santa, tell me if you're really there..."

Your hair bounced to the rhythm as you danced along with your dancers. It was your official last song of the night after an hour and a half of songs and dance. But you still performed like it was just the start of the night.

"True love, that he thinks of..."

Just before the second pre-chorus ends, you strut down the long way to the wider stage where the band performs. You did not rehearse anything with Yoongi to this song since Santa did not plan to do anything in it. But Santa is here anyway, why waste his presence?

"Santa, tell me if you're really there. Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year..."

As expected, Yoongi knew he was your target. You stood next to him, leaning your back to his side, while he played the guitar. You turned to him and poked him to get his attention like you were really talking to Santa.

"Oh, I wanna let him unwrap me, like, oh-ooh-oh..."

Yoongi finally looked at you when you turned around, showing off the fluffy white bow Paul had sewn behind your red dress. It took your fans a few more seconds to realize that you modified some lyrics the song had years ago.

"Get on top of him, by that fireplace, oh-ooh-oh..."

Singing the line, you dropped down quickly and popped back up. You looked over your shoulder, immediately winking at the first set of eyes you met. He looked away, making you laugh while still singing. Twitter will definitely eat up this short interaction.

"But I don't want a new broken heart. This year, I've got to be smart. Oh, baby..."

You strut joyfully all over the stage, swaying your hips to the song, while you sing some vocal runs. White confetti, mixed with red heart-shaped ones, began falling all over the arena as the song and show neared its end. Some fans also began throwing their small gifts on the stage.

"If you won't be, if you won't be here- Thank you all so much for coming tonight! Have a happy holiday!"

You let the background vocals sing in the background as you waved goodbye. As the lights dimmed down, you blew kisses on the cameras. The band freestyles, but remains in tune with the song.

"Do you think I can still release a holiday EP before we take a break?"

On your way back to the hotel, half an hour after the show, you asked Cal. The idea of releasing new Christmas songs excites you and makes you wanna start recording your self-written songs immediately. But with less than two weeks left and a tour happening, you wouldn't want to hassle everyone.

Cal nods, reaching for her phone to look at her Calendar app, which its mostly filled with your agenda than hers, "Yeah, you absolutely can. We can talk to the label about it, so we can get things approved right away. But you are their favorite right now, they'll let you do anything you want."

You laughed at that, shaking your head even though that was true. Your assistant continued, "Just let me know your plans. Like, do you want to do some promotional stuff?"

"Seems nice. Does that Late Night gig still stand?" you asked, referring to a hosting offer you got a few days ago from the producers of a known show.

"Yep, they said they can wait until the day after tomorrow."

"So, I still have two days to finalize?" you asked.

"That's right." Cal replied.

You nodded, leaning on your chair more, forcing it to be your makeshift bed in the meantime. A checklist began forming in your head. You were done in the first step: writing the songs. Now, you just need someone to help you with producing it. Usually, you would call up your friends to collaborate. But with you touring around the country, you know that it will be hard to communicate with them at the same time.

Yoongi produces.

A thought comes into your head, but your eyebrows furrowed. He will not get your ideas like your past producers. You feel like you two have the most different perspectives on things that you will just end up scrapping the whole thing.

But I want to release this EP.

Cal, who was sitting next to you, heard you let out a deep, heavy sigh. Your back was facing her, but she could see you staring at your phone lock screen. After working for you for almost five years, she knows that you are probably just swimming in your thoughts right now. You often do that, especially when making big decisions. Once again, you let out a big sigh, nodding. Cal will not tell you, but her eyebrows raise when she sees you typing a message to someone.

"I told you I was on stage earlier, I can't answer your calls."

Yoongi just arrived in his hotel room when he got a call from Sara, his ex-fiancee. It took him a minute of staring on his phone screen before deciding to accept the call begrudgingly. He has been avoiding to talk with her after they went on separate ways six months ago. But when she reached out to him the other day, he knew he won't be able to avoid her easily. A four-year relationship, with a year of being engaged, is not a light thing to bury down.

"God! This is why I don't want you doing tours. It's harder to communicate with you when you're on a different timezone." She grumbled.

The time difference is not even that much. He thinks she's just making a big deal out of something. Yoongi is on Boston, while she's on LA. He knows she probably just got home from her office just a couple of hours ago.

"Can we just talk about what we need to talk about?" Yoongi sighed, wanting to end the call as soon as he can.

"Fine." Sara sighed. "So, about the house. We decided to just keep it. It will be just easier for me and the baby since we already turned one of the rooms into a nursery."

He hates that it's a "we" decision. That there's another person involved in a conversation that's just meant for him and her.

"I told you to do whatever you want it, just give me my money back. I am not interested to know your plans with it." Yoongi almost spat the words out with disdain.

He is trying to remain calm and mature with everything about their past relationship. But again, it's hard, especially when Sara got herself pregnant with another man, who was her ex, while they are still engaged. Just recalling it back makes his blood boil.

"Yoongi."

She called him in a way that supposed to calm him down. If she did this a year ago, it would have worked. But hearing her calling him with her soft tone, just brings more resentment.

"Sara," Yoongi sighed.

Knowing that she's probably in her last trimester of pregnancy, he hate to bring stress to her and her baby. But man, it's hard to balance gentleness with hurt.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before walking out to the balcony to get some fresh air. He inhaled while feeling the coolness of the weather. He spoke,

"Just... just do whatever the fuck you want with our house and update me once you decided to pay me back. Okay?"

"Okay." She mumbled. "Yoongi, I'm so—"

He ends the call before she can say that familiar yet useless word again. Turning off his phone, he just rested his arms on the balcony railing while silently gazing on the distant city lights. His sweatshirt is nothing compared to the chilly weather, where light white snow falls on his jet black hair. But he doesn't mind, it makes him feel numb for a moment.

He really needs a distraction right now before he ends up smoking again.

"Hey."

Suddenly, Yoongi hears a small whisper. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked to his right, instantly spotting you in your usual oversized sweatshirt and plaid pajamas. You stood on the balcony next to his. A thin smoke from the cup you were holding slightly covered your face, but Yoongi still recognized that gentle smile that curved your lips.

"'Sup, Santa?"

"So, this is your hot choco."

Cal placed the cup on a small table in your hotel room. You were still a little groggy when you woke up from your quick nap in the van. But now, after choosing to release an EP for the holidays, you want to stay up all night to work on it.

"Thank you, Cal. I love you so much." you told her, hugging her.

She smiled, "I love you too, hon. Don't force yourself to work more tonight."

You hummed in response while choosing more comfortable bottoms to change into. Cal took one last glance at you, making sure you were okay, before saying goodbye. Left alone, you changed into your red plaid pajama pants, perfect for the cozy weather.

Although you only had a few minutes of sleep, you are ready to take more steps for your plan. You messaged Yoongi earlier after getting his number from Fred. But you noticed you got zero replies from the messages you sent.

Maybe you should just talk to him in person?

Or you should just look for another producer?

The second option seems easier than talking with him directly.

You find yourself walking out to the balcony, swimming in your own thoughts while being engulfed by the chilly air. You keep your warm cup in both of your hands while thinking of how you can find someone to work with for your songs.

Back then, you used to have your then-boyfriend around to help you with such things. Theo is a musician too and plays a lot of instruments other than his bass guitar. So, he's been a great and quick support if you have unexpected ideas or melodies in your head. Since he also led the band before, he can easily call them up for a quick record session. But now, things changed. The cheating happened, followed by the break-up. To top it all off, your ex literally brought the band with him (except Noah, who insisted on staying with you) while you still have an ongoing world tour.

Asshole. You cursed in your head again when you remembered that time you were panicking after learning what Theo and the band did. Fucking asshole, you hissed.

Shaking your head, you try to get back on planning. You were sipping in your hot chocolate when you heard someone speaking.

"Just… just do whatever the fuck you want with our house and update me once you decided to pay me back. Okay?"

You see Yoongi next to your balcony with his phone next to his left ear. Blinking, your eyes observed him quietly. This may be the first time you saw him angry. He sounded aggressive to whoever he was talking with. Although inaudible, you know that the person on the other line was still talking when Yoongi abruptly tapped on his phone, ending. Your lips formed into a small 'o' before you took another sip of your drink.

You probably should have just gone inside and left him alone. Maybe it was just a fight with his fiancee, that he briefly mentioned in one of your quick conversations.

But after seeing him look out the night city view while his fists were clenched, you thought maybe you would let your presence known.

"Hey..." you almost whispered with how you tried to be careful with your tone as if you were stepping on a fragile glass floor.

Even though he was glaring when he turned his head at you, you tried to smile at him. Just a soft, friendly smile. But when the mood felt heavier, you made an attempt to lighten it up.

"'Sup, Santa?"

His tensed shoulders slowly dropped back into a more calm position before he shifted to face you.

"What are you doing there?" he asked, removing the snow on his hair.

"Oh, I didn't know I needed to have reasons to be on my own balcony."

You don't know why but that was the first sentence you thought of, but did not think through yet you let it slip out your mouth. It sounded defensive like you were picking a fight again. Tired of starting another dumb fight with you for today, Yoongi rolled his eyes and was ready to go back to his room.

"Wait! Wait I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say that." you stopped him, spewing out your apologies. Fuck, you didn't know you can be this bad in handling such moments like this.

"I actually want to ask if you have checked your messages?" you asked, changing the topic with the idea on the top of your head.

He squints at you, "Why?"

"Uh... I actually sent you a text earlier," you replied, scratching the back of your head.

"Again, why?" he asked one more time, sounding more uninterested. Even though, he was already wondering why would you message him and how you even got his number.

"Can't you just check your phone right now?" you asked.

Seeing you having trouble saying whatever you texted him made Yoongi even more curious about what you texted him. He shook his head at you.

"Actually, I can't." He tried not to smile when he noticed your nostrils flaring. "So can you tell me what you texted me?"

Your chest rosed when you exhaled heavily, aware of what he was doing. You were finishing the chocolate in your cup when Yoongi clicked his tongue,

"Well, I think I should go-"

"Yoongi, hi! This is YN. Got your number from Noah. I was wondering if we could collaborate on something that I'm planning to release this holiday season. Please, let me know if you're interested. x YN." you spoke so quickly yet clearly, reciting the exact text message you sent him before. You had it memorized because you kept reading it earlier while waiting for his reply, biting your nails. "Is that good?!"

Your irritation simmered down when you saw Yoongi biting his lower lip, stopping himself from smiling. But he already is.

"A little too fast for my liking. But, okay," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay?" you asked for clarification.

"Okay, I'll be your producer," he answered.

Even though you won't show it, Yoongi noticed you smiling before behind your cup. And yes, you know your cup was already empty. But you hate to give Yoongi more satisfaction after he made you recite your message to him.

"Can we start tomorrow?" you asked.

"Sure, come to my room."

You leaned forward with lines in between your brows, "Excuse me, what?"

"What? I already have my stuff set up here. I don't want to move again." he explained before smirking. "What were you thinking, YN?!"

Feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks and ears, you turned away, "Ugh, whatever. Let's just text."

"But my phone is turned off!" Yoongi teased you as you walked inside your room.

"Not my problem! Charge it or something. See you tomorrow!" you spoke hurriedly before closing the sliding door.

Yoongi laughed at your flustered reaction, shaking his head.

note | random question... do u guys have any favorite youtube video segments where you would like the series characters to participate in? if yes, feel free to let me know! send me an ask or comment it. but anyway, thank you so much for reading <3

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PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

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297 notes · View notes

love-belle · 1 year ago

Text

i wake up and it's october, the loss is yours !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the songs she wrote haunt him while he's trying to move on.

for when you thought that it'd be forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - im so SORRY!!!!!! i genuinely have no inspiration to write atm but i still wrote this bc i felt so guilty :// i hope u like this, i love you thank u sm for sticking around <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, danielricciardo and 3,628,344 others

yourusername my ep "i'll smile and you'll have to face it" is finally hereeee!!!!!!! i wrote one half of it on the floor of my closet and the other half in my gf's (carmenmmundt) bedroom so this obviously holds a lot of meaning to me :) i hope all of u are able to heal a part of yourself while listening to this just like how i was able to heal myself while writing and recording this <3 i love u and im so proud of u in case no one told u this today, thank u so much for supporting me, i'll forever be in love with u all

18,528 comments

username IM SCREAMING MISS MA'AM WHAT IS THIS

username you were driving fast??? i was holding back??? and i loved you babe??? but i bet u knew that???

username nothing has ever and will ever hurt me like this ep has

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username the way she's literally our mother like AHSHSJSJJSJSKSS I LOVE U

username lewis hamilton watch ur back

username tears are streaming down what the fuck

username OH SHIT I WON THE BREAKUP

username love how this ep is her crying abt lewis and simultaneously shitting on him and somehow still blaming herself for everything

username THERE 😭 IT 😭 WAS 😭 HEAVEN 😭 KNOWS 😭 THERE 😭 IT 😭 WAS 😭 AND 😭 THERE 😭 IT 😭 GOES 😭

landonorris nice album 👍

-> yourusername thank u this random dude said it hit all the right corners

-> yourusername unlike u in the last race

-> landonorris UNPROVOKED

-> username NAH SHE'S SO WRONG FOR THIS

username did it hurt? when y/n finally acknowledged her break up but with a 5 song ep that rips out ur heart out of ur body and crushes it?

username need lewis to blind react to this NOW

username I KNOW THAT I SHOULD KNOW BETTER

username the way i know lewis saw this post and cried like imagine having to say that y/n y/l/n is ur ex gf???

-> username right like i would litch never show my face again

-> username no bc he was so "my girl is angry with me i hope death takes me swiftly" HOW IS HE HOLDING UP

username they still follow each other that HAS to mean something

username all this time we were hoping for a lewis x y/n collab but instead we got a break up and endless PAIN

-> username no bc we got "i'll smile and you'll have to face it" (feat. lewis hamilton getting ripped to shreds)

carmenmmundt so proud 🩷

-> yourusername ILOVEYOUSOMUCH

username NO ONE TALK TO ME IM CRYING OVER TWO WEEKS AGO

username WHEN U SAID WE'RE LIKE YOUR MUM AND DAD KNEW U LOVED ME BABE WHEN U TOLD ME THAT

username im in shambles whatcthe fufk

lilymhe tears are falling down LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEE IT

-> yourusername i LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE YOU

username CAUSE U BROKE MY HEART AND MY SELF ESTEEM FOR A GIRL WHO'S A REMIX OF ME

-> username when i tell u my jaw DROPPED

username she did NOT hold back

-> username committed several felonies one by one

-> username no bc "now you're living the goddamn dream have a golden star this one's for free" had me SHOOK

username "nobody actually happy and healthy has ever felt so desperate to prove it" called me out SO BAD

username i bet lewis didn't last one (1) verse without bursting into tears

charles_leclerc 1/10. the singer called my pasta "dog shit".

-> yourusername it's a miracle i survived that

-> charles_leclerc ALEX LOVED IT

-> yourusername U LITERALLY TOLD HER UR RELATIONSHIP DEPENDED ON IT

username the way i loved u i will not be embarrassed of that just should've known when to quit ARE U KIDDING ME Y/N

username "the love we had was eating me whole i had to send it home" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username yoko broke me half bc WHAT DO U MEAN he misunderstood her 😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 2,628,148 others

lewishamilton better than i was two weeks ago

16,689 comments

username SCREECHING WHAT THD FUCK

username nah im like wtf

username WHO THE FUCK IS THAT IN TJE LAST SLIDE???? LEWIS????

username nah the audacity of men sometimes

username im going feral wgatctefuck

landonorris GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-> landonorris sorry oscar took my phone but the sentiment stands the same

-> lewishamilton lando?

username bitches are so messy sometimes i LOVE it

username the way i know he cried while hitting post

-> username frrrr LMFAO like there's no way he's this thriving after the break up

username lewis it's okay to cry after losing mom 🗣️🥶😭🙏 we're suffering too 💯‼️🔥💔

username so no one's gonna mention that one interview?????

-> username please i SCREAMED like what do u mean he dissed her on live tv

-> username "yeah i mean you can either be mature about some things or go about it the childish way and i guess she's chosen her way so yeah"

-> username for me it's the way charles and lando both looked at him like they knew my guy was talking out of his ass 😭

username when he announced that he was dating y/n and the caption was "better than i was before" but WITH her and now it's when they've broken up and he's WITHOUT her

-> username WHY WHY WHY WH YWHY WOULD U BRING THIS UP

username slowly going insane over the fact that we're never gonna get a dog mom y/n feature on roscoe's acc ever again

maxverstappen1 not really, no. we can hear you listening to apologise by one republic.

-> lewishamilton we're not even in the same hotel?

-> username NOT APOLOGISE BY ONE REPUBLIC

-> username oh so he's DESTROYED destroyed

username nah bc if the rumours are true i will go straight for manslaughter bc wtf

-> username GIRL WHAT RUMOURS

-> username AJSJSISIKWISISJJS so basically some people were saying that y/n and lewis broke up bc lewis was finding it hard to be in a long distance relationship and they weren't seeing each other much and also he was (APPARENTLY) saying that he's js not at a point where he WANTS to be in a relationship but just 3 weeks after their break up he was seen with a girl and they're allegedly dating idk

-> usernme NAH WHAT THR CHCK

-> username how's he gonna say he doesn't wanna be in a relationship but turn around and date someone else like BRO

-> usernme lewis didn't cheat but he's still a traitor 😔💔

-> username "got the news just last month that i'm exhausting and you're not in love" makes so much sense now wtf

georgerussell63 pick up my phone??? what is this behaviour lewis???

-> lewishamilton you've done nothing except yell at me

-> georgerussell63 IT'S SO JUSTIFIED PICK UP THE BLOODY PHONE

-> username russell george i am shook

-> username omg he's madddddd

username the entire grid is gonna jump lewis bc of this no one can convince me otherwise

-> username sebastian probably yelled at him over phone

-> username toto is delaying contract renewal bc of this

-> usernme george is gonna make him kiss the barriers bc carmen asked him to

-> username mick is definitely giving him the silent treatment

-> username roscoe barked at him

mercedesamgf1 lewis, come back to the garage, we're calm. - toto wolff

-> lewishamilton make max, charles, carlos, lando, oscar, fernando and daniel leave and then i will.

-> mercedesamgf1 they're not gonna jump you, lewis. - toto wolff

-> maxverstappen1 yes we will

-> charles_leclerc yes we will

-> carlossainz55 yes we will

-> landonorris yes we will

-> oscarpiastri yes we will

-> danielricciardo yes we will

-> fernandoalo_official yes we will

-> mercedesamgf1 yes they will. - toto wolff

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, landonorris and 3,186,419 others

yourusername i wake up and it's october, the loss is yours

comments on this post have been limited

username AHHHDJEJDIEJEKSKSK

username nobody speak to me they finally unfollowed each other

username IM CRYING ARE WE REALLY DONE DONE NOW

username OH SHIT YOU WON THE BREAKUP 🗣️🔥💯‼️

username i will forever remember the y/nlewis era 💔💔💔💔💔

username nah wtf i wasn't even this sad over my ACTUAL REAL parents divorce

username do it for roscoe guys get back bc of him :(

charles_leclerc it's november what are you doing

-> yourusername it's the formation lap what are you doing

-> charles_leclerc STOP I'M TRYING TO GET OVER THAT

-> username IM CRYING SHE WILL NEVER LET THE GRID LIVE IN PEACE

username i will always remember the way lewis was so :) whenever she was around and the way y/n was so 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 like

username IM SCREAMING THEY UNFOLLOWED EACH OTHER

-> username no bc why am i so destroyed over two exes unfollowing each other

username y/n i will always let u bejeweled pls give me a chance

roscoelovescoco not cools mum's

-> yourusername LOG OUT OF THIS ACC I SWEAR TO GOD LEWIS

-> username IM SCREAMING WHAT THE FUCK

username I DON'T NEED YOUR LIGHT TO BE LIT

lilymhe YOU'RE GLOWING I LOVE U STAY HAPPY ALWAYS AHSHSJSISN 😡😡😡😡😡

-> yourusername MY LOVE I LOVEEEEE YOU

username forever in love with her like AHSJSJSS

username i screamed

username someone sedate me im ginna pass out WHAT IS THIS

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kumkaniudaku · 24 days ago

Text

Unplugged

Summary: Terry makes a big mistake on Christmas Day.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2,061

Warnings: Sexual themes

Previous: From Terrence, With Love + MASTERLIST

With the last hours of Christmas ticking away and their precious little girl safe and sound at her Papa and Maman’s house less than 15 minutes away, Terry and Patrice were free to let the abundance of alcohol and holiday cheer still buzzing in their systems from family dinner do the all talking.

From her spot on the bed, Patrice bit her lip to calm the flame inside her body as she watched Terry’s bare back flex and tense while he slid a trio of black boxes from a secret spot on the top shelf of their closet. She’d been watching him all night, waiting for the best time to flash the car keys and rush him back into the house for alone time. The playing cards and second round of sweet potato pie could barely hit the dinner table before they were hastily throwing scarves around their necks and wishing everyone a final Merry Christmas.

“Baby, I need you,” Patrice commented, her voice impatient yet sultry under the influence of tequila.

Terry looked over his shoulder with drooping lids and a lazy smile. “You keep talking to me like that and we might not open a single gift tonight.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

In their second Christmas as a married couple, they’d agreed to exchange their gifts in private to preserve the sentimental value of the moment and avoid prying eyes when the innocent giving took a turn toward their personal business.

Patrice carefully guarded small cache of packages topped with neat, black velvet bows and numbered based on the order she wanted Terry to unveil his surprises. She’d worked hard on the right mix of practical, sentimental, and sexy since the summer and couldn’t rest until Terry had unwrapped each one according to her very specific instructions.

Though Terry didn’t have the same propensity for extravagance, he had spent the last three weeks bursting at the seams to watch his wife’s eyes light up with every overly expensive gift box lid popped.

He carefully balanced each box in his arms on his way to the bed before gingerly placing them at her feet like precious rubies presented to a queen. The mattress dipped under his weight as he pressed on his hands and knees to lead their umpteenth french kiss since they’d escaped the family.

“Wanna go first?” His question was nearly lost in a deep mumble once he focused his energy on dragging his lips and tongue frome her ear to her clavicle.

“What if I made you go first instead?”

He chuckled against her neck before pressing a kiss in a random spot. “Then I’ll do whatever you tell me. You know how much I love to follow your directions, Mrs. Richmond.”

The mention of her favorite title on the tip of his skilled tongue made Patrice’s body react with a visible shiver. He knew how to use his power as a willing listener to get exactly what he wanted.

Patrice watched him slowly take his place at the head of the bed, one leg bent and propped while he watched her watch him with beautifully dark eyes under long lashes. Her bottom lip found itself trapped beneath her top row of teeth again to keep her thoughts in check.

“Okay,” she spoke, barely above a whisper. “Start with this one.”

Tickets to an experience, a handmade coupon book for redeemable favors, and a digital album featuring racey photos and videos from a recent boudoir shoot all laddered up to Patrice’s final reveal.

“Are these restraints for you or me,” he asked as he pulled the apparatus from its cozy spot inside of a discreet box. He eyed the small round spaces meant for his ankles and wrists before looking up at Patrice and her mischievous grin.

She nodded. “Both of us. We don’t have to use them immediately but give it a thought. I’ll take good care of you, baby.”

Uncertainty in Terry’s eyes and furrowed brows made Patrice crawl closer to capture his chin in her hand, allowing the tips of her stiletto nails to graze the fresh shaven skin on his face. He searched her disarming smile for confirmation.

“You got me?”

“The whole time. However you need me.”

Gentle reassurance that she would, in fact, be there during their exploration seemed to satiate Terry long enough to ask for a kiss that quickly introduced large hands seeking refuge beneath the shirt of Patrice’s thin lounge set. Flashes of being under her control with nowhere to run fell somewhere between fear and undeniable arousal that manifested itself physically once she moved to straddle Terry’s waist per his quiet request.

She leaned forward to nip at his neck. “Mmm, someone’s excited to see me. We should take a break so I can tell him hi.”

“Feels like he ain’t the only one that’s excited,” he answered, attention shifting to the meeting in his lap. “C’mon, open your stuff first. Then we’ll move on.”

“We should skip me and double back after.”

Whining and a little begging wasn’t enough for Patrice to change Terry’s mind. He remained bullheaded with his desires, adding a quick smack to her ass as motivation to do as he asked and to preview what was to come if she was efficient in the process.

The first gift, a sappy custom vinyl with all the love songs that made Terry think of her, earned him a heartfelt thank you and sweet kisses between murmured declarations of undying love. The newly restored and engraved wrist watch from her Nana’s collection nearly made her scream in appreciation that he’d been able to help her keep a family heirloom.

She was so full gratitude and appreciation that, when she popped the lid off of the final gift and found a shining gold necklace adorned with a photo pendant of their daughter, she accepted it as commonplace.

Terry listened with his eyes closed, waiting to hear the gasp he expected as Patrice pulled the item from its box.

“Aw, baby, this is super cute. I’ll wear it everyday!”

“Everyday is kinda excessive, don’t you think?” He asked, eyebrow pulled high while his eyes remained shut.

He’d heard that prolonged wear could make the experience more comfortable, but multiple times a week struck him as odd even for his wife.

“It’s a cute necklace. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Necklace? What are you…” A necklace? He’d purchased something for the other end of her body. She’d even picked a few out to guide his shopping. As his mental roladex sped through the list he’d compiled, sudden realization made his body grow hot with anxiety.

His worst fear had materialized.

Patrice watched Terry’s face morph into a uncharacteristic mix of horror and dread, painting winter pale light skin a faint red across his ears and forehead. His eyed opened wide while he frantically searched for his phone amongst the bed’s clutter. He moved without words and palpable fear that started to transfer to Patrice as his grip on her thigh tightened.

She started to help him look though she didn’t know for what exactly. “Terrence, what is wrong with you? I like the necklace! Talk!”

Nothing. Not even a second glance as he pulled his cellphone from beneath a box lid and feverishly tapped at the screen.

“Answer. C’mon, c’mon.” The line on the other end rang twice, three times, and an agonizing forth until the intended party answered with hearty laughter. “Imani! Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you, love. What you need?”

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gather the necessary words to remain vague but thorough. Patrice leaned in closer in hopes of receiving the information that he was withholding.

“I…made a really big mistake and I need your help without judgement.”

“Oh-kay. Is this a drug heist or something?”

“Say what you mean, TJ.”

Terry shot a look in Patrice’s direction, earning a mouthed ‘what’ as opposition. “I mixed up gifts for Treece and my mama. If she opens that box and sees what’s inside, she gon’ think less of me. I need you to get that back.”

“What’s in it?”

“It’s personal.”

“Clearly,” she laughed. “But what is it? We family!”

“Imani, please don’t make me say it.”

The guilt in his voice helped put the pieces together for Patrice, widening the pit of anxiety she already felt. Think less of him? What would Diedra think of her once she saw what her sweet daughter-in-love was doing to corrupt her only son?

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Imani cleared her throat and ended her prying as quickly as it had begun.

“I actually don’t wanna know anymore. Keep it to yourself,” she answered. “Can you at least tell me where the gift is? And if I should wear a glove when I touch it?”

Terry sighed. “You don’t need a glove but I do need you to explain in as little detail as possible that she has the wrong gift and that I’ll take her to brunch and give her the right one tomorrow. If she asks, just tell her to call me.”

“Please believe me when I say you never had to worry about me telling Ms. Dee Dee that her son likes to buy all kinds of gadgets and gizmos to keep his nasty wife excited.”

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“I know you can! And, honestly, do your thing, friend. We’ll talk on the side.”

“We will,” Patrice added, flipping her pressed hair over her shoulder for added flair. “Thank you, Moanie! We owe you.”

Another reminder of her duties from Terry and a laundry list of potential repayments sent Imani on a covert mission to recover the goods and ease their worries.

Patrice’s hands blazed a soothing path from her husband’s chest to his ears to softly rub the area while she pressed a kiss to his lips that he feebily returned. The thought of his mother opening that small black box in front family members and finding his initials enscribed on an aquamarine gem meant to grace his wife where the sun didn’t often shine was enough to exhaust Terry more than any workout ever could.

His heartrate began to slow once Patrice reminded him to breathe with calming instructions for him to match her rhythm.

She spoke against his cheek after adding a kiss. “Was it the silicone one I showed you? With your birthstone on it?”

“Mhm. You convinced me and I looking forward to seeing it in you tonight. Now that’s ruined.”

“Ruined? Oh, baby,” she cooed into his ear, one hand traveling south to wedge itself between them and reignite a waning fire. She giggled when he tensed and released a shaky breath that fanned across her neck. “How can it be ruined when he’s still so happy to see me. You sure you don’t wanna finish what we started?”

“A little.”

“What can I do to turn that little into a lot? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

Sliding her tongue against the shell of his ear before a beginning a slow kiss kicked Terry into overdrive just as she intended. Anticipation mingled with desire. Desire became primal urges fighting for freedom. Urges made Terry groaned into Patrice’s mouth as a reminder that he while he was typically calm and collected, there was a still man inside that craved physical contact.

Patrice lowered her voice to reiterate her point. “Anything. All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

Like a moth to a bright light, Terry’s fingers danced across the bed to connect with the cold metal attached the restraints that both and intrigued and terrified him. Patrice listened to the chains clink against each other as he pulled them closer, a smile creeping across her face when their eyes met.

“You’re gonna go first. Arms in front or behind?”

“In front. Like this.”

Seeing her wrists pressed tightly together, the motion lifting her clothed breasts higher, was the perfect demonstration for a visual learner. It wasn’t long before Patrice found herself fully exposed, bound, and waiting for further instructions upside down at the edge of the bed.

Tonight, the teacher would be the student, receiving gift after gift after shaking, breathless, filthy gift. Crisis averted. A Merry Christmas, indeed.

-------

Comment if you'd like to be tagged!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #ficmas

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

no. 1 party anthem — geto suguru.

“....What about my laugh?” He asks you, his cheeks flustered like cherry wine. “Is…is the sound good?” You matched his flustered cheeks. “It’s…It’s like a song.” “A song?” “My favorite song.” You admitted to him, slowly smiling as you shyly looked up to his flustered gaze. “Your voice is my favorite lullaby. But your laugh? It’s my favorite song.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: post hidden inventory, pre-jjk 0, heavy angst, romance, falling in love, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, break up, slice of life, timeskip, depression, hurt, mourning, loneliness, trauma, pain, humor, guilt, pining, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, profanity, depiction of break up, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of loneliness, mention of events post hidden inventory, mention of events in jjk 0, cursed user! suguru, jujutsu sorcerer! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7.7k words

NOTE: i've been getting into arctic monkeys again (as you can tell) and i have to say, no. 1 party anthem has done things to me these past few weeks. AM is such a good album. i really don't think that one can get any rawer in story telling about the sorrows of parting the way AM had depicted it. so i hope you listen to it one of these days, if you haven't already. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this. i love you all so much!!! see you on the next one <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

══════════════════

IT WAS A SURPRISE, TO SEE HIM TONIGHT. It had been nearly five years since you last saw Geto Suguru, but the weight of his absence still lingered in the quiet moments of your life. And it had taken your breath away, you knew that much. Because you had already resigned yourself to never seeing him again since that night.

But you can’t help but wonder about all the suffering and grief that had carved its way through those five years, shaping the person who stands here now.

The you of the present feels like a stranger sometimes, a mosaic pieced together from shattered moments, each shard reflecting a memory too painful to hold but too significant to discard.

There were nights when you lay awake, your mind replaying fragments of what once were half-formed smiles, laughter that now seemed like it belonged to someone else, and the weight of a bond that had been torn apart, leaving jagged, unclean edges that never truly healed.

You’d press your fingers against the raw places, testing their tenderness, reminding yourself that the pain was real. That he was real. But he wasn’t here anymore. He had chosen his life. He had made his bed with his reality. And so must you.

It all felt like another lifetime, one so distant it seemed almost like a dream. The person you were then, the one who loved him, trusted him, believed in him. That person feels impossibly far away now. You’d convinced yourself you’d buried that version of you alongside the memory of him. And with time, you believed it.

You never expected to see him again.

And yet, there he was.

The sight of him felt like a blow, like the ground had shifted beneath you and left you unsteady. His presence unraveled the delicate stitches you’d used to bind your wounds, pulling them loose thread by thread. He looked both the same and different, an unsettling contradiction that left you breathless.

Time has not been kind to either of you. You knew that much. Geto Suguru was a handsome man, he always was and he always will be. But you could see things that people wouldn’t. You see everything, you know everything about him. Maybe more than himself.

If time had not been kind to him, you could only judge from afar about things that had happened to him. You could see it in the lines etched into his face, the heaviness in his gaze. But what struck you most was the familiar ache you thought you’d buried. it resurfaced all at once, sharp and unforgiving.

You told yourself you’d moved on. You told yourself he was a ghost, a memory that had no power over you anymore. But standing here now, your heart betrays you.

And for a moment, all the pain, all the nights spent grieving, all the years spent rebuilding—none of it seems to matter. For a moment, you forget the hurt and only remember how it felt to love him.

It happened on a random Friday night at a bar you frequented with your other sorcerer friends. It was a hub for sorcerers to gather after missions. With how Satoru and Shoko were also getting too busy to hang out with you, and Nanami not frequenting such a place, you had no other choice but to find yourself some new people to mingle around too when they weren’t free. Life doesn’t stop when you lose someone.

So, you ended up finding this bar. And over the years, you have become a regular. Even more so, you found new people to meddle life with. You all of course still can’t meet everyday. But it was more regular than most of your other relationships. That gets you through the day most of the time.

The bar in itself wasn’t special. It was a cozy, dimly lit spot with just enough charm to make it feel like a second home. But it was yours, a place where you could laugh, unwind, and forget the world outside. It was ironic that he of all people would show up here. Perhaps the universe had a cruel sense of humor, or maybe fate had finally decided to intervene.

Geto Suguru hadn’t been looking for you that night. Or maybe he had, in some subconscious, desperate way. His sources, mutual acquaintances, whispers from insiders had led him here, for business.

It’s why he had a special grade glamour on. But even he didn’t fully understand why he had stayed for a while. He didn’t need to. Someone else could have done this for him.

But when he stepped into the inner corners of the bar, his purple eyes scanned the room almost out of habit. Nothing much intrigued him in this place. It was too common, too crowded. It wasn’t his fashion. It wasn’t his scene.

But then, he looked further away and stopped.

In that moment, he knew that he saw you.

The moment froze. You didn’t notice him at first, too caught up in the warmth of your friends’ laughter. But he noticed everything. The way your smile lit up the room, the easy way you leaned into your conversation, the carefree aura you carried.

It was a stark contrast to the image he had of you locked in his mind: the you who had walked away from him, or maybe the you he had walked away from. He couldn’t decide anymore. He never made up his mind about that. Perhaps doing so would have hurt more.

When your eyes finally met, it hit you like a tidal wave. Recognition. Shock. Something unnameable. No one else would see the cursed energy glamour the way you would. You would notice.

You would see him. All of him. Only you could do that in a way people will never know how to. No one else could tear apart Geto Suguru the way you have, the way you will for all his life.

For a heartbeat, it felt like no time had passed, like you were back in that shared moment before everything fell apart. But then reality set in, and you turned away. Too quickly, too deliberately. You excused yourself from the table, and when you returned, he was gone.

Geto Suguru had fled back to the club he’d come from, his chest tight with a cocktail of emotions he couldn’t untangle. He should’ve known better. You were no longer a part of his life. He’d lost the right to be. And yet, he couldn’t let it go.

After downing two more drinks, the gnawing need to see you again overpowered him. He left the club and returned to the bar, heart pounding, searching. Asking the bartender if they’d seen you, scanning every corner of the room for a glimpse of your face. But you were gone.

Suguru wasn’t sure what hurt more: the hope that had flared in his chest when he saw you or the emptiness left in its place when you disappeared.

He hadn’t planned on this—on seeing you, on unraveling in public like this. Life after you had been a blur of responsibility and regret. You’d moved to Fukuoka to teach to get as far away from Tokyo as possible and he focused on his new family, his new vision.

Geto Suguru poured himself into work, convincing himself that distance was the answer. Just as much as you had thought the same thing. Out of sight, out of mind. But you were never truly gone from his thoughts, and the years only deepened the hollow ache. And perhaps, neither was he.

Now, both of you are back in Tokyo, perhaps even just for tonight. He was sitting alone at the bar, he stared into his glass, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the edges. He was alone, so far away from you and your warmth, and your smiles and you who was everything.

The laughter of strangers around him was a cruel echo of the joy you’d shared with your friends just hours ago. He drank to dull the pain, but it only sharpened the edges of his misery. Each sip dragged him further into the pit he’d been clawing his way out of for years.

Suguru hated himself for the way he felt, for the way his chest still tightened at the thought of you, for the way he still longed for something he’d already destroyed. He had made his choices, he stood by them firmly.

And yet as the night wore on, his mind spiraled further into the what-ifs and could-have-beens, until he was too far gone to remember why he started drinking in the first place, he could only think how miserable he truly was.

By the time Suguru stumbled out of the bar, the night had deepened into an eerie quiet. The streets were nearly empty, save for the faint hum of passing cars and the distant laughter of people heading home.

The cold air stung his skin, but it didn’t sober him. Nothing could cut through the fog in his mind, the haze of alcohol and regret that weighed him down.

He wandered aimlessly, his thoughts circling back to you like a cruel refrain. How could you look so happy? How had you moved on so effortlessly when he was still stuck in the wreckage of what you once shared? Part of him wanted to be angry, but the anger never came. All that remained was the bitter taste of self-loathing.

When Suguru finally stopped walking, he found himself at a familiar park; a place you’d both loved. The benches were worn, the trees towering silhouettes against the starless sky. He sank onto a bench and buried his face in his hands, the chill of the night pressing against his flushed skin.

Memories rushed in unbidden, as vivid as the night you first kissed under those very trees. He could almost hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his.

It was unbearable, the way the past clung to him like a second skin. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the sheer weight of his emotions, but his chest heaved, and he let out a strangled sob, his breath fogging in the cold air.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had convinced himself that leaving had been the right thing to do, that the distance would save you both from the inevitable pain of being together.

But in his effort to protect you, he had only condemned himself. And now, seeing you happy, surrounded by friends, made him realize just how deeply he had failed.

Meanwhile, you ended up back at your friend’s apartment, all the laughter and enjoyment had come fading as the events of the night replayed in your mind. Seeing Geto Suguru again had been a shock you weren’t prepared for. None else noticed but you. If anything, it was as if he had wanted you to know that it was him.

You couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought. He’d come back. But for what? Why have he come back? You’d been doing fine for the past ten years. And now in an instant, you find yourself unable to do anything about these tears that just pours out.

You’d spent years trying to bury the memories, to build a life that didn’t revolve around the void Suguru had left behind. And for the most part, you’d succeeded. But tonight had cracked something so deep within you, like a breaking dam. It was that wound you thought had healed. A wound so deep that maybe you never noticed it never healed.

Your friends noticed your distraction and tried to coax you back into the lighthearted energy of the evening, but it was no use. When it comes to Suguru, you knew you would never be able to pull yourself back from the brink. You left early, along with your friend and retreated to the quiet of your own space in her house.

Sitting in the dim glow of your living room, you stared at your phone, your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts. It had been years since you’d last spoken, and the silence between you was deafening. But tonight, it felt heavier, like it was begging to be broken.

Suguru, in his drunken haze, finally pulled out his phone. His fingers trembled as he stared at the empty message thread between you from all those years ago. He never changed phones. He just couldn’t.

Not when this held so much of you, more than you could ever know. And he’d hate to part with it. He hates parting with you. The cursor blinked at him mockingly, daring him to say something, anything. But what could he say? What words could possibly bridge the chasm he had created?

You both sat in separate silences, even far away from each other. Even then, you both carry the weight of your shared history hanging in the air, stifling you both whole. Somewhere between the spaces of what was and what could never be, a thread still connected the two of you in the frayed, fragile, but unbroken echoes of life.

And for the first time in years, you both wondered what it would have been like to say hello.

══════════════════

IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO, FLASHING IN YOUR MIND SO CLEARLY. Your relationship with Geto Suguru began like a slow sunrise—gentle, almost imperceptible at first. Everyone could see something beautiful about it. You could too.

But it wasn’t something either of you could pinpoint, the exact moment it started, but before long, the light of it had crept in, filling the cracks and chasing away the cold.

At first, you were just kids, thrown together in the chaotic, unforgiving world of jujutsu sorcery. Life and death weren’t just abstract concepts; they were constant, hovering over every breath you took, lurking in the shadows of every mission. But with him, there was something different. Something softer.

It started with stolen glances in the classroom, shared smirks over jokes that only you two seemed to find funny. Then came the late-night conversations that stretched far too long, but neither of you cared. You’d sit on the temple steps, the world silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

“You ever think about what we’d be doing if we weren’t... this?” he asked one night, his voice low, almost hesitant. He looked at you then, his dark eyes searching yours like he might find some hidden answer there.

“Sometimes, when I have some time. I think about it. With you, me, Satoru and Shoko.” you admitted. “But then I think... would we have ever met? If we were just ordinary people?”

He smiled, that small, almost private smile he saved just for you. “I don’t think the universe would’ve let us miss each other.”

“Even just the two of us?” You wondered at him.

“Especially the two of us.” He grinned even wider, patting your head.

Those words lingered with you long after that night, as did the quiet weight of his presence. Suguru wasn’t just your teammate or your classmate; he became your confidant, your safe place. The one person who could make you feel human, even when the world tried to strip that away.

There was lightness in your connection, a reprieve from the heaviness that came with your lives. The warmth of his laugh, the way his shoulders relaxed when you were around. It was as if the two of you carried pieces of each other’s burdens without ever having to say it out loud.

Everytime you were with him, you felt like everything was whole.

The world made sense when you were with him.

And you were proven right each and every single time.

He was the only one for you in this world.

It had been a long day, and exhaustion lingered in the edges of your mind, but he sat across from you, legs crossed lazily, and the smallest smile teased at his lips. You remember telling a joke.

You don’t remember it in its entirety but you knew it was something about the absurdity of the higher-ups’ newest “ingenious” strategy and for a moment, his guarded composure shattered.

He laughed.

It wasn’t just a chuckle or a polite hum. No, it was a real laugh. It was as though life had existed the first time he laughed. It was so bright, unrestrained, and utterly disarming.

The sound was pure, and for a moment, you could almost forget the weight he carried, the things he wouldn’t talk about late at night when the shadows seemed to pull closer.

“God, that laugh.” you murmured, half to yourself, but he caught it.

“What about it?” His voice held a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with curiosity.

“It’s… nice. Unexpected.” you said, and you could feel your cheeks warming under his steady gaze.

“....What about my laugh?” He asks you, his cheeks flustered like cherry wine. “Is…is the sound good?”

You matched his flustered cheeks. “It’s…It’s like a song.”

“A song?”

“My favorite song.” You admitted to him, slowly smiling as you shyly looked up to his flustered gaze. “Your voice is my favorite lullaby. But your laugh? It’s my favorite song.”

That was the beginning. That laugh became your favorite sound, a lifeline in the chaos. It became the thing you sought, the thing you tried to coax out of him in fleeting moments between missions or during those rare stretches of quiet.

You had stolen moments, the two of you. Too many to count, too many to want to forget. It was when life wasn’t pressing its cruelty upon you. Late nights stretched into early mornings, both of you lying in the grass, the stars above almost as bright as his gaze.

“You see that one?” you whispered once, pointing to a cluster of stars. “It reminds me of you.”

“Oh? How’s that?” he asked, smirking slightly, his head tilted in mock challenge.

“It burns so brightly you can’t help but stare,” you said without thinking, and the smirk faded into something softer, something almost shy.

“Careful, I might start believing you, you know?” he murmured, looking away, but not before you caught the blush dusting his cheeks.

“But aren’t I correct with what I said?”

“Ah, you’re just as cheeky as Satoru.”

You grinned at him. “But I’m better than him, aren’t I? Because I’m your favorite!”

Suguru laughed, his cheeks warm like a scarlet sunrise. “Yeah, yeah. You are my favorite.”

And then there was the kiss. It happened on an evening like any other. It was only a normal day. A day like any other. Nothing special at all.

You had been talking, your words flowing so easily it felt as if you were spinning threads of a tapestry you had both been weaving for years. Somehow, you just belonged together.

When he leaned in, his hand brushing the side of your face, it wasn’t a surprise. It felt inevitable, like the tides meeting the shore. Like destiny itself had been guiding you here. You felt like you were home as you found yourself overtaken by him.

When his lips met yours, it was as if the world stopped turning. It wasn’t fireworks or an explosion. It was just warmth that was familiar. The breeze of evening moonlight. it was a sigh, a soft release of tension you didn’t realize you had been carrying. Everything else fell away. It was just him and you.

And in that moment, you knew.

He was the one for you.

He was the love of your life.

“This feels... right, don’t you think?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

“It does. Perfect.” you whispered back. “Like it was always supposed to happen.”

You didn’t just love him. No, you recognized him. Across time, across lives, across every distance imaginable. You had found him, and you would find him again.

Every time. Every lifetime. And you would love him, fiercely, until it burned you alive. Because he wasn’t just a part of your world—he was your world.

For a while, it was perfect. Together, you built a fragile sanctuary amidst the chaos. Even as the missions grew harder and the burden of protecting the world loomed heavier, you found solace in each other.

Geto Suguru would hold you close on nights when the horrors of your work were too much to bear, whispering reassurances that tomorrow would be better.

But tomorrow wasn’t better.

The world began to crack around him. He had blamed himself for Amanai Riko. For Satoru’s brush with death. For failure of a mission that relied so much on him. And that had buried him under, even before he had come and gone to the grim reaper’s arms.

Everything you had loved about him slowly faded, like memories of yesterday. You saw it in the way his smiles became rarer, in the way his laughter came less easily. He grew quieter, more distant, and when he came back from missions, he wouldn’t talk about them anymore.

Instead, he’d sit in silence, staring at nothing, as if the weight of what he’d seen was too much to put into words. As if nothing in this world mattered at all. As if nothing was worth living for.

At first, you tried to pull him out of it. You were the only person that could do something like that, if Satoru couldn’t. You have tried hard. You really did.

You did as much as you could to remind him of the ideals that had driven you both to fight in the first place. Of the future that you could have together, where you could be happy.

But Suguru wasn’t just tired of everything—he was angry.

And he didn’t want to hear anything more about those ideas.

They had failed him, as much as the adults had already done.

He wasn’t in the mind to talk anymore, he was tired of talking.

“They don’t deserve it.” he said harshly, that one night, his voice low and simmering. “The people we save—they don’t even know what we sacrifice for them. They go about their lives while we bleed for them. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not about fairness, Suguru.” you said, reaching for his hand. “It’s about doing what’s right. They are weaker than us. They don’t know the world of such suffering. But we do. Suguru—”

But he pulled away, shaking his head at you. “Maybe what’s right is letting them fend for themselves. Maybe what’s right is taking back control.”

“Suguru, you can’t—”

“I have had enough of it. I can’t….I can’t have any more of this bullshit. Please.”

You didn’t recognize the man sitting before you. His words were sharp, edged with bitterness that scared you. You tried to argue, to bring him back to the man you had fallen in love with, but Geto Suguru was slipping through your fingers, and no matter how tightly you held on, you couldn’t stop it. The more you tried, the more he pulled away.

The breaking point came on a mission, one you didn’t share with him. You weren’t there to see the moment he made his choice—the moment he decided that humanity was no longer worth saving.

You only heard the aftermath: Suguru Geto, once a protector, had killed. He had killed too many people. Even his own parents. He had turned his back on everything he once stood for. And all to be free. All to stop those voices in his head. All to stop being miserable.

When you confronted him that day, you were trembling. A part from anger, part from heartbreak. You looked at him, eyes so brimming with tears as he stood there with those dark purple orbs narrowing at you.

Almost as though he couldn’t care less about it all. It was as if he didn’t carry the world on his shoulders anymore. In that moment, it was better that their suffering freed him. That’s what it looked like to you. And that broke you. More than you could even say. More than you could even understand.

“Tell me it’s not true, Suguru.” you said, your voice cracking. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

But Geto Suguru didn’t lie. He’s never been good at lying. If anything, you didn’t need him to say anything. You already knew the truth. You’ve seen the bodies. You’ve seen the reports. But somehow, hearing him say it.

Perhaps that’s the only way to make it real. That’s the only way to know the truth. He looked at you with calm, unflinching purple eyes, the same eyes that used to hold so much warmth. How could such warm eyes feel so cold, so lifeless, so devoid of the will to live?

“They deserved it.” he said simply, his hands resting on his pockets. “The world needs to change. And I’m going to change it.”

You stepped back, shaking your head, tears streaming down your face. “This isn’t you, Suguru. This isn’t who you are.I know…I know who you are. Please, just…Just…”

“It’s who I’ve always been.” he said, and the certainty in his voice shattered you.

Tears fell from your eyes, to the point that you couldn’t see anymore. You let out a guttering cry, your hand covering your lips as though you know you can’t let it out anymore. You can’t stand like this in front of him. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t stop staring at him. Where did your Suguru go? Where was he?

“I don’t know you anymore.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You sobbed, looking at the ground. “Who are you? Where’s my Suguru? Where is he?”

For a moment, just a moment, his mask slipped. You saw the guilt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to bury. Not because he’s hurt others, no. But because he’s hurt you. That burns him more.

That kills him more. But then it was gone, replaced by the resolute facade he had built to shield himself. He knew he couldn't come back. He’s gone too far for him to walk away from it.

“I hope you know that….I’m sorry.” he said to you, watching you close your eyes. As though wanting to pretend that this was just a bad dream. “But this is the only way.”

You wanted to scream, to grab him and shake him until he saw reason. But you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. You always knew better than that. He was resolute. He always has been. And so, he would not turn back. Not even for you.

The Geto Suguru you loved was gone. He was killed. He was consumed by the darkness he couldn’t escape. And you will never get him back. The last time you saw him, he was walking away, his silhouette fading into the distance. You stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of his absence crushing you.

In the days and weeks that followed, you replayed every moment, every conversation, every sign you had missed. You blamed yourself, even though you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have saved him.

But that knowledge didn’t make the loss any easier. You were sure that he was the love of your life. Geto Suguru has been your love, your partner, your everything.

And now he was gone, leaving behind nothing but memories and the ghost of what could have been. And now you had to pick up what’s left from the desolation that swallowed everything whole. If not you, who will?

In the weeks that followed, life moved on around you, but you felt like you were frozen in place. The routines of being a jujutsu sorcerer continued. Day in day out, it was missions, training, meetings. But somehow, it all felt hollow.

Every face you saved, every curse you exorcised, felt like a mockery of what you had lost. How could you keep protecting a world that had taken Geto Suguru from you? How could you keep meeting with faces that didn’t know how to protect a child? How could you keep finding yourself living like this over and over?

But you still did it anyway.

You knew it was the right thing to do.

Suffering or not, you had to live.

You had to continue on.

Your nights were the hardest. Sleep became a distant memory, replaced by endless hours of replaying the past. You found yourself going back to the places you had shared with him.

The quiet park where you used to sit and watch the stars, the ramen shop where he’d always order extra broth, the training grounds where you’d spar until you were both breathless with laughter.

But those places were empty now, stripped of their meaning. Without him, they were just shadows of something you could never get back. Things that were just gone, forever lost in the abyss of his own making. An abyss you had sealed just as much, by continuing to live the way you have.

The news of Geto Suguru’s defection spread quickly. Whispers followed you wherever you went, people looking at you with pity, like you were some tragic figure in a story they couldn’t stop retelling.

Some were kind, offering empty condolences that only made you feel worse. Others were cruel, blaming you for not seeing the signs, for not stopping him before it was too late.

But the worst were the people who said nothing, who looked at you like you were a ticking time bomb, as if Suguru’s choices had tainted you by association. You could feel their looks, you could always hear the double entendre in their words. But you could hardly care at that point.

You tried to drown it all out, focusing on your missions, on anything that would keep your mind occupied. But no matter how hard you worked, no matter how many curses you destroyed, the weight of Suguru’s absence clung to you like a second skin.

And then, one day, you saw him again.

It was purely by accident, something you couldn’t expect.

It had only been a mere few months after he had left.

It was on a mission in a remote village, where rumors of a powerful curse had been reported. You had gone in prepared for anything—or so you thought. What you weren’t prepared for was the sight of Geto Suguru standing in the center of the chaos, his presence commanding, his expression unreadable.

Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He looked the same, and yet so different. There was an edge to him now, a coldness that hadn’t been there before. A brutish layer that protected him from the world.

“Suguru.” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He turned to you, and for a split second, something flickered in his purple eyes—recognition, maybe even regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the calm detachment you had come to fear.

“You shouldn’t be here.” he said, his tone almost gentle.

“You don’t get to tell me where I should be. you shot back, your voice trembling. “Not after what you’ve done.” After what you’ve done to me.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t come here to fight you. Leave, and I’ll let you go.”

“Let me go?” you echoed, anger bubbling up inside you. “You don’t get to ‘let me go’ for shit, Suguru. You left. You broke everything, and now you’re standing here like none of it matters. I should kill you right now where you stand like the kill order says.”

“It does matter. Everything I do, it matters. To me, to the world I’m building.” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “More than you’ll ever understand. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“No, Suguru. You aren’t.” you said, stepping closer to him. “You’re doing this because you gave up. Because you let the worst parts of this world consume you. And now you’re trying to justify it by pretending. And I just….I have had enough of that excuse. Even when we fought, you used that excuse.”

He flinched at your words, the only crack in his otherwise unshakable composure. For a moment, you thought you had reached him. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step back from you.

“This isn’t about us, you know that.” he said. “It’s bigger than that. Bigger than you or me.”

“It was never just about us, you idiot.” you said, your voice breaking. “But we could have fought for something better—together. Instead, you threw it all away. You threw me away.”

He didn’t respond. He knew you were right. You could see it in your eyes. He tried to open his mouth, to say something. But instead, he turned and began to walk away, his figure fading into the distance once more.

You wanted to call out to him, to beg him to stay, to fight for the man you once knew. But you didn’t. Because deep down, you knew that man was gone. You would just be lying to yourself if you tried to pretend that it would work.

And as you stood there, watching him disappear, you realized something: this was the last time you would let him break you. Geto Suguru had chosen his path, and now it was time for you to choose yours. You had to.

Even if it meant living with the weight of his absence for the rest of your life, you would carry it. Because that was what it meant to keep going. He wasn’t willing to live with you, for you. He wasn’t willing to do that. And so, you had to. You had to do it for you. To survive.

══════════════════

HE FELT LIKE HE WAS GOING TO THROW UP. Geto Suguru stumbled into another bar, his head swimming with alcohol and frustration. The neon lights buzzed overhead, casting garish colors onto the crowd of strangers.

It was a different place, but it might as well have been the same. Everywhere he went, it felt the same: loud, crowded, meaningless. He was chasing something he couldn’t name, knowing full well it wouldn’t fix the hollow ache inside him.

He spotted a girl at the bar, standing alone for just a moment, and something in him shifted. It wasn't an attraction—not really. It was desperation. I may suggest there’s somewhere I might know her, he thought, smirking to himself, just to get the ball to roll.

He approached her with a feigned air of confidence, the kind that only comes from being far beyond tipsy. His words slurred slightly as he said something about a shared connection, a vague memory he knew didn’t exist. She tilted her head, intrigued despite herself.

Suguru leaned in closer, his voice low and coaxing. “Come on, before the moment’s gone.”

It wasn’t like he was falling in love. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her heart or her promises. He just wanted her to do him no good, to help him forget for a while. The girl gave him a look—soft, inviting, a subtle tilt of her lips that sent a rush of blood through his veins.

It turned him on more than it should have. He didn’t care about her name, her life, or her story. It was the thrill of the chase, the electric jolt of fleeting desire. But before he could take another step, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“She’s with me.”

Suguru turned to see a man standing there, tall and stern, his presence like a wall between them. The girl stepped back toward her boyfriend, her gaze dropping in awkward apology. Suguru laughed bitterly, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to intrude.” he said, though the sting of rejection burned.

He retreated to the edge of the dance floor, his drink in hand, watching the pulsing crowd around him. The music was deafening, the lights dizzying. The club was a house of fun—or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. People were laughing, dancing, losing themselves in the moment. But for Suguru, it was a prison. A trap.

The room spun, not from the alcohol but from the crushing realization that it wasn’t enough. This place wasn’t enough. These people weren’t enough. She’s not you. No, she isn’t. She never will be. No one else can ever be like you.

No matter how many drinks he had, no matter how many strangers he flirted with, the truth was inescapable. You and he weren’t together anymore. You had been the only thing that made sense in the chaos of his life, and now, without you, everything felt hollow.

The club blurred into a mess of sound and light, but all Suguru could feel was the emptiness gnawing at him. He was trapped in this cycle of meaningless nights, trying to fill the void you left behind. And deep down, he knew it would never work. Because no matter how hard he tried, no one could be you.

Nothing here was worth staying for.

So he comes outside, the cold greeting him.

But he could barely feel it stab through him.

The alcohol in his veins dulled everything except the gnawing ache in his chest. He stumbled down the street, the neon lights of the club fading behind him, replaced by the harsh glow of streetlights. His breath came out in uneven puffs, his mind swimming with thoughts he didn’t want to face.

His phone was a familiar weight in his pocket. He pulled it out, his fingers fumbling over the screen until he found your name. He was too drunk to be a coward now. He wasn’t going to let the cursor mock him this time. Not again.

Somehow, it was muscle memory—he didn’t even have to think about it. You were still in his contacts, still in his life in the smallest, cruelest way. If anything, he memorized your phone number. He knew it too well, he’d never forget it. He stared at your name for a long moment, the cursor blinking on the call button.

The voice in his head screamed at him to stop, to put the phone away and walk home.He didn’t need to do this. Not right now. Not ever. But the alcohol silenced that voice, replacing it with raw, unfiltered need. And seeing you tonight….what more did he need to be an excuse? He had to call you. Even if it was wrong, he had to.

Before he could stop himself, he hit the button. The phone rang. Once, twice. With every passing second, his heart raced, his breathing shallow and unsteady. He almost hung up, almost let the moment slip away, but then you answered.

“Hello?” Your voice was soft, confused. You had changed phones. But you still used the same number. He knew that. But you probably, over time, had forgotten his phone number. He had expected it. He was after all, worth forgetting. “Who is this?”

It was late, and you hadn’t expected to hear from him—hadn’t heard from him in years. If anything, you never should expect anything from him. But the sound of you made his chest tighten, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He leaned against a lamppost, the phone pressed to his ear like it was his last lifeline.

“S’me again, babe.” he slurred finally, his voice thick with alcohol and emotion. “Suguru.”

There was a pause on your end, heavy and loaded. He could almost feel the weight of your hesitation, the way your breath hitched as you processed his call. It had been a long time. Ten long years. And now, just now, he called.

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone cautious, guarded. It wasn’t the warmth he remembered, but it wasn’t cold either. It was somewhere in between, and that hurt more than anything.

“I don’t know, honestly.” he admitted, his voice breaking. He laughed bitterly, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, that’s a lie. I know. I just… And I just….I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop… missing you.”

“Suguru…” Your voice softened, but there was something else there too—sadness, maybe even pity.

He hated it. He didn’t want your pity. You had known that even when you were younger. But he knew you couldn't help it. Still, just maybe, even just tonight, you’d drop it. You’d pretend, just as he was. He wanted you to tell him that you missed him too, that you still thought about him late at night, that he wasn’t the only one trapped in this endless spiral.

“I saw you tonight.” he blurted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “At that bar. Can’t remember the name, honestly. But you just….You looked so happy. Like you don’t even think about me anymore. Like I’m nothing.”

You sighed on the other end of the line, and it cut through him like a knife. “Suguru, it’s been ten years. What did you expect? I….I didn’t expect my life to be frozen, waiting for an impossibility that will never come.”

“I don’t know. I just…” he said again, his voice rising with frustration. “I thought maybe—maybe you’d feel the same. Like… like this thing between us isn’t over. Like it’s still there.”

“It’s not. And you…you know this.” you said quietly, and the finality in your tone made his knees buckle. He sank onto the curb, his head in his hands.

“It is for you, maybe…. he whispered, his voice cracking. “But not for me. It’s not over for me, and I don’t know how to let it be. Babe, I loved you. I still do. Maybe for the rest of my fucking life. But I…I don’t know what to do.”

The silence on your end was deafening, and he filled it with a broken laugh. You had the right to your silence, you always will. After what he had done, even just last night? Why shouldn’t you just be quiet? Why shouldn’t you just hang up right now?

But on the other side of the line, you were bitterly weeping in the quiet. Just taking in his words. Everything about your lives had been a tragedy, a tragedy that you could never forget. Both of you were living those past lives that can never come back. And you shouldn’t. You can’t. Not now, not ever.

“I’m drunk, you know?” he said, as if that excused everything, as if it would make you forget the raw, painful truth he’d just laid bare. “I shouldn’t have called. I just… I needed to hear your voice.”

“You need to go home, Suguru.” you said gently. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was what he expected.”You have daughters to go home too, remember?”

You’d always been kind, even when you were hurting. Even to people that hurt you. He’d always known that. But somehow, he wondered if that kindness was why you’d stayed in his contacts all these years—because part of you knew he might need it someday.

Because he knows you’d be merciful to him, no matter what he’d done. No matter what he’d caused you. You’d pick up that phone and answer him. You’d let him hear your voice, like you used to do for hours and hours when you were younger.

“Yeah, you’re right.” he said, dragging himself to his feet. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go home.”

But as he stumbled down the street, the phone still pressed to his ear, he couldn’t help but say one last thing. “You were the best thing I ever had, you know that? The only thing that ever made sense. In all of my life. And I love you. I’ll love you forever for it.”

He heard you inhale sharply, but you didn’t respond. Not for a while. You took a moment to let out a small sob, as though trying to hold yourself together. And Suguru could imagine it. How it shatters him. Ah, he had made you cry again like this.

“You were the best of my life, Suguru.” You finally say, almost the saddest he’s ever heard you talk. You were still mourning him, he supposed. “The love of my life. You always will be, Suguru.”

The line went quiet, and then, mercifully, you hung up.

Suguru stood there for a moment, staring at the screen, the word “Disconnected” flashing at him in a cruel, mocking rhythm. His hand tightened around the phone, his knuckles turning white as the fury bubbled beneath the surface. He nodded to himself.

He wanted to scream, to hurl the phone into the street and watch it shatter into irreparable pieces, as if that would somehow undo the splintering inside him. But instead, his anger collapsed inward, folding into a hollow resignation.

He shoved the phone into his pocket with a rough, jerking motion, his breaths shallow and uneven. He reached for a cigarette with the same hand, fingers trembling as they pulled it free. His lighter almost instantly lit the edge into a fiery smoke.

The first drag burned, the bitter smoke searing his throat and filling his lungs. It didn’t matter. He needed the distraction, needed something to keep him grounded when it felt like the world had slipped from beneath his feet. He lit the next one before the first was even finished, the acrid haze curling around him like a suffocating ghost.

He kept walking. The city stretched out before him, a labyrinth of muted lights and shadows that felt more hostile than familiar. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional distant wail of a siren or the shuffle of a stray figure in the dark. Cold wind bit at his skin, cutting through the thin jacket he hadn’t bothered to zip up.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

This was the last time you’ll see each other.

He was going to do his plan soon enough.

And you won’t see him again, not ever again.

275 notes · View notes

eilishalways · 1 year ago

Text

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me

summary: billie eilish runs into her crush at the grammys 😻

warnings: a LOTTTT of blushing LMAO

a/n: so billie came out???!!!?? also - part two is out!!

billie was nervous. very nervous. not because she was at the grammy awards, but because you were gonna there. billie had a massive crush on you. since 6 months ago. it was all because of one cheeky insta post you had made. billie remembers freaking out when she saw it, and that’s when she knew. you two had talked to eachother at events before but weren’t actually friends or anything like that. billie was really hoping that something would change tonight.

as she took her seat beside finneas at the table, she half hoped you’d be on the other side of the hall, and half hoped you’d be sat beside her. the second part of her was happy. as you sat down, billie tried to suppress her giddy smile. she quickly noticed though, your perfume. musky and wet - you were wearing eilish no 2. billie freaked out in her head knowing that YOU were wearing HER perfume.

“hey billie!” you said. billie said hello back, and you greeted the rest of the table. “how are you?” you asked billie, a smile forming on your face. billie blushed slightly and replied, “i’m good - kinda nervous though. how about you?” “i’m nervous too. i really hope i win something tonight.” you laughed. last year’s grammys had been a bad one for you - you didn’t win anything. “i’m sure you’re gonna sweep it tonight,” billie reassured you, “your album was fucking amazing. i was listening on repeat for a week after it released.” she laughed, before regretting the oversharing she had done. you seemed eased though, and thanked billie for her support.

a waiter came round with flutes of champagne. you reached one, and billie did the same. you both reached for the same one, before billie removed her hand from your hand and grabbed a different one. you both laughed but you were both left blushing. billie didn’t notice this though.

“i like your dress.” billie said to you, trying to keep the conversation going. you smiled at her and replied “thank you!! i wasn’t sure if i liked it too much, but my stylist insisted. i’m so glad you like it.” billie blushed again at your comment, and became hyper aware of how red she must be at that point. you two continued to talk about your outfits, hair & makeup until a photographer came up to your table looking for photos. everyone at the table smiled for the group photos before the man moved on to taking photos of pairs. he waited to get a picture of you and billie until he was done, and billie tried not to all out scream when you pushed yourself into her arm to get in frame. the man went on to the next table, but you remained on her arm for a few seconds, saying to her “you look really good, by the way.”

billie was about to lose her cool at that point, so she was excused herself to the bathroom. she came back just in time for the awards to start being presented. she hasn’t put anything out that year, so she wasn’t nominated for anything, but she watched as the winners received their awards and made their speeches. the night was nearly finished and the final, biggest award of the night had its nominees announced - album of the year. you were among one of the nominees, alongside some very big names. you didn’t think you had any chance at all, but billie reassured you that everything would be fine.

“and the winner is… y/n l/n - (album name)!” the woman announcing the award said. you screamed in delight, and hugged billie. you slowly made your way up to the stage, accepted the award, and started your speech. you thanked your team, family, friends - all the usual stuff. but then, you thanked billie. you said into the mic “and i wanna say thank you to billie eilish. girl, you’re one of my biggest inspirations. i love you. i wear your perfumes every day! and thank you for being my hype girl tonight!!”, and then you walked off stage and back to your seat. you winked at billie before she blurted out “can i have your number?”

#eilishalways #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader

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bandgie · 3 months ago

Text

Cats Galore | Ep. 3

MASTERLIST | Kink: Anal

🗝 The Other Neighbors downstairs hardly raise concern other than their weird fascinations with cats. You don't mind them playing with yours, but you're learning that things aren't as they seem.

4.6k words

warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, f!masturbation (brief), pussy play, fingering, 3some, anal, butt-play, PIV, no protection, cumming inside, creampie, finger sucking (m!), reader called kitty/slut, reader wears cat ears, minho is a bit of a mean dom, reader says she's gonna pee (doesn't), squirting, edging (brief), double penetration, boob sucking

notes: fuck, that's a lot of warnings, sorry. I was supposed to post this days ago but I was partying :( sorry, forgive me. hopefully the length makes up for it

“I almost fell down a well earlier, guys.”

The consistent clicking of their keyboard tells you they’re not listening. You’re staring out the kitchen window, watching the rain pour and the droplets race.

“Uh-huh.”

“I would have died.” Maybe that will catch their attention. Chan and Changbin have been nothing but busy-busy the moment they came home. Late. You had to mop the floors when their muddied shoes walked through the front.

“That’s nice.”

You wrinkle your nose, unsure if you should act upset or cordial. They’ve been home for hours, sitting at the tiny table typing away.

Editing to be exact.

“So, how far are you in the album?”

“Very.” Chan takes off one side of his headphones. “I think we should be able to make the deadline if we stay up.”

You try not to groan. Music is their everything. You get that. You’ve known that, but there are so many times you feel like you don’t even come second. If you bat your eyes prettily enough and cutely pout, they’d put it on hold.

But then they wouldn’t get their work done. The stress they feel now would be nothing compared to scrambling last minute to put something together.

And it would all be your fault because you don’t know how to stop being so clingy.

“That’s good.” You turn from the window and walk over to them, standing behind Changbin and looking at the DAW. You pretend you know what the different colors and lines mean, nodding and pecking his cheek encouragingly. “Looks good too.”

Changin’s already turning his head, pursing his lips so you could plant a kiss there instead, but Chan reaches over and flicks his forehead. “No. Babe, listen, we love you, but you’re distracting.”

“Distracting?”

“I mean, we won’t be able to do our work.” Chan is careful with his words. “Like, I bet Bin has a fucking boner from just you standing next to him.”

Changbin’s lips turn into an upside-down, sheepish smile, “Shut up.”

“Exactly. I promise you, at the end of the week, we’re all yours.” Chan smiles suddenly. His teeth look wolfish in the cutest way possible. “Was the first night not enough lovin’ for you?”

It was more than enough. You can feel Changbin buzzing with arousal just from the memory. It’s not often that your boys like to play rough, but when they do, they make sure to make it unforgettable.

Your dreamy button-boy helped significantly to make sure your lovin’ was sublime.

“For now.” You shrug, but you grin knowingly. “I’ll leave you two alone then. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

Changbin purses his lips again when you lean down. This time, Chan doesn’t stop you two from kissing. It’s brief, but Changbin still hums with content in your mouth. Your lips disconnect with a gentle smack and you walk to the other side, doing the same to Chan.

“I’m serious. Go to bed at a reasonable time.” You narrow your eyes. “I don’t wanna deal with a grumpy Bin telling me Chan made him stay up all night.”

Chan presses another chaste kiss. “No promises.”

It’s when you want to sleep that it seems impossible. You want to get enough rest. The garden needs to be at least cleaned if you want it to blossom. But the only thing you can do in bed is toss and turn, replaying the events of the day until your mind wanders to Hyunjin.

There’s a small part of you that wants to dream about him again. Even if you have to see his buttons, it would be nothing compared to his cock dragging in your walls.

He’s big. He has to be. You can remember how it felt against your cunt. The mere warmth from him had your clit throbbing, aching to feel his tip slide against you even if you had just finished in his mouth.

And the kisses, his kisses. They felt so tender. So warm. You don’t think you’ll be able to recreate the sensation with your fingers, but you slide your hand down your panties anyway. But just when you make it past the dip, finger threading through your coarse hair, you hear the familiar sound.

Squeak! Squeak!

Are you asleep already? Did so much time pass pretending that you actually did? You don’t know, and you don’t care to find out. The little mouse, just peeking through the crack of your door, is your only worry.

Seems like Hyunjin isn’t the one that didn’t get enough lovin’.

You fling the covers off and rush to the door. The mouse squeaks in panic, scurrying out and down the hallway to the stairs. You know it’s aiming for the little door. You don’t have to question the fact when it leaps over the steps and into the living room.

Unlike the quiet mouse, your steps are loud, thudding down the stairs and tripping over the carpet. You regain your balance quickly, bumping into a wall and pushing off it for an extra boost into the dimly lit living room.

You don’t even see the mouse anymore, too consumed with prying your fingers through the crevasse and throwing it open.

Like an old friend, the tunnel beams. It pulsates with life, with happiness, you think. The changing colors are like a beckoning finger that you listen to obediently. The passage feels exactly like it did the other night. Fuzzy, soft, warm, and everything right.

The lights in the Other living room are just slightly different than last time. A little yellow, a little too pale. It hides the shadow of the couches that seem to glow with life, but you don’t dig too much into the aesthetic. You know there’s a note in the kitchen waiting for you.

This time, it’s not just a note on the table when you walk in, but a kitten headband next to it.

We’re downstairs.

We? You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side. Who’s we? This isn’t Hyunjin’s handwriting.

Another line of scribbles reads in a cuter, playful tone.

can’t wait to meet you! pleeasseee wear the kitty ears!!!!! (ㅅ •᷄ ₃•᷅ )

You’d laugh at the drawn emoticon if you weren’t confused. With one hand holding the letter and the other holding the headband, you think.

Why are you dreaming of this? Who’s waiting for you? Why do they want you to wear a costume?

It doesn’t matter how many times you ask yourself, those questions will never be answered. Not on this floor at least.

As beautiful as it is outside, you walk down the porch and turn right. There’s an opening with a small staircase leading down, the doorframe lit with pretty lights.

They flash inducingly; on and off in a way that makes it seem like the light is moving.

They help with your jitters. You know that it won't be Hyunjin behind the door and sure as hell won’t be your boys. Still, you feel some exhilaration when you stop just a foot shy of the door.

It opens before you can knock a third time, revealing two men standing side-by-side. One has brown buttons for eyes, a beautiful complement to his freckled face and blonde hair. He smiles like it’s the easiest thing to do now that you’re here. His lips curve perfectly against his teeth, white and smooth.

The other’s buttons are a deep burgundy, almost matching his chestnut hair. Only one side of his mouth quirks into a smile that’s closer to a grin.

The blonde one shrieks with excitement. “Ah! You’re here! Minho, she’s here! Like, here here.”

You laugh, “Yeah. Here here. In the flesh.”

He lights up even more. The flashing bulbs on the doorframe dance on his face. “Yes! Come in. Hyunjin raved about you all day yesterday.” The blonde man opens the door wide enough for you to see the living room blocked by a curtain that he pushes back. It’s massive, adorned with cat sculptures and paintings. Even the couch has a fuzz that seems to resemble fur.

Minho chuckles. “Gosh. He wouldn’t shut up. He falls in love way too easily.”

Their conversation doesn’t click until you’re inside the apartment. You’re too busy deciding to be weirded out or impressed by the amount of cats perched on the wall.

Wait. Did Hyunjin tell them…

“What did he say about me?” You try to sound nonchalant, fingers grazing the soft sofa.

Minho flops on the other side of the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just that he wants to ask for your hand in marriage.” He snickers at his own joke, ignoring the disapproving shake of his friend’s head.

“All good things, I promise.” The blonde man sits on the opposite side, patting the empty slot between them.

You sit gingerly, far enough that your thighs aren’t touching, but you can feel their bodies radiating warmth. You swear Minho eyes the way your thighs expand when you sit, tearing his buttons away to look at the kitten ears on your head.

“Very good things. He showed us some paintings he finished too, but he said it wasn’t enough to capture your beauty.” Minho smiles at your blush. “I should tell him to paint this too. The cat ears are a good touch.”

“Minho!”

“Felix!” Minho mimics his roommate's tone. “Am I doing something bad?” He looks at you, buttons gleaming with playfulness. “Am I?”

You shake your head. “N-no.”

The way his teeth are revealed is almost predatory. Almost as though he likes the hint of fear in your eyes. “Good. See? Hyunjin said you were a good girl too.” His hands reach behind your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers barely graze you, but your skin feels on fire.

You know why you’re dreaming of them. Why you keep going through the tunnel. They must know too, but Minho plays with the ears on your head fondly.

“I can tell you are. Wearing exactly what we asked you to.” He tilts his head. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Felix and I have quite the…liking towards cats.”

You turn to the side, facing the differently posed statutes along the wall. “You don’t say.”

Minho giggles. “With you wearing the ears, well, let’s just say we’re seeing if you’d be a good addition to our collection.”

Felix chuckles beside you, scooting just enough so his leg rubs against yours.

There’s so much you should be worried about. It’s all too familiar with how interesting Hyunjin was. To the underlying tones, the secretive glances they give each other, to the fact that they have you trapped between them.

But when one of Felix’s hands goes to your inner thigh and Minho’s goes to your other, your heart drums for a different reason.

“I think we should look at your kitty down here to make sure you’ll fit in perfectly.” Felix’s voice is unbelievably smooth in your ear. His tone sends shivers down your spine and you visibly shake.

He grins like he knows. “Would that be okay?”

You nod, but your ‘yes’ sounds more like a whimper than an actual voice. It’s easy for them to spread your legs, panties on display being that you don’t sleep with anything more than a shirt and underwear. They knead the softness of your inner thighs, cooing and laughing like they’ve got you right where they want you.

“This kitty listens so well.” Minho’s lips brush against your ear. He’s the first one to move towards your cunt, fingers sliding underneath your panties to pull it to the side.

“Ooo,” his breath gives you goosebumps. “And it’s a pretty one too.”

Your pussy feels cold now that it’s exposed. Felix pulls on your thigh so your pussy spread just slightly. He groans, deep and low. He’s quick to spread his fingers into a ‘v’ shape around your lips.

Minho’s thumb grazes your flesh. It’s such a light touch, barely there if you hadn’t been paying close attention. The sensation makes you jolt off the couch just slightly, choking on a gasp.

“Sensitive little thing, huh?” Miho smiles against your ear. “Barely even touching you.” His index finger trails along your slit, soon finding your clit.

“Bet if I touch you here, you’ll get wet real fast.”

Felix does well in keeping your cunt spread while Minho flicks the pad of his finger against you. It takes everything in you not to buck off the couch again. To stop your pussy from clenching every time Minho presses down on your nub.

But just like he said, you can feel your slick sliding down your ass. The wetness must soil the plush couch underneath, but the men don’t seem to mind in the slightest. Instead, you feel Felix’s fingers mingle in the mix.

His digits are so much different from Minho’s. They’re small and much rougher, but the different textures make you find purchase on their thighs and squeeze.

Felix giggles. “You were right, hyung. She did get wet.”

Even if it weren’t for the obvious sounds resonating in the room, it would be your moans and whines that gave away your arousal.

“Of course I was right. Hyunjin told me all about you.” The way he says it, like a threat, it should scare you. But his ominous tone makes your eyes roll and toes curl instead.

“Told me you tasted good. He almost came his pants when his tongue was on you.”

Minho stops flicking your clit to maneuver lower. His soft fingers slide until they catch your entrance, prodding and rubbing before dipping in.

You gasp when he enters you. You didn’t realize how desperate your cunt was to clench on something until it was pulsing around his digit. Your hips begin to rock immediately, trying to find a rhythm with his little finger wiggling inside you.

“F-fuck.” You lean on Felix’s shoulder. “Please.”

Even with your squelching and pleading, Minho slides out. His sadistic smile stays on his lips when you whine, tears in your eyes from an orgasm being pulled away.

He raises his hand high enough for you three to see it glisten in the light.

The slick is almost mesmerizing, their buttons locked on the sight. Minho brings the hand closer and you open with your mouth without being told to.

“I wanna know if he was telling the truth about this too.” But instead of putting his finger on your tongue, he reaches over to Felix.

His pink tongue is already waiting, a subtle blush on his face that makes his freckles stick out. You watch as Minho’s finger plays with his tongue, running over the smoothness of his teeth and the plushness of his lips.

Felix moans at your taste, hollowing his cheeks to suck diligently. His fingers on your cunt slow in concentration, but you’re too aroused to notice.

A string of spit and slick connects from Felix’s tongue to Minho’s finger when he pulls away. It stretches and breaks easily, causing Felix to lick his chin where it landed.

His buttons are full of hunger. “Yeah, Min. He was telling the truth.”

Minho laughs with delight. His wet finger goes back to your cunt, rubbing harshly and quickly.

The instant pleasure makes you mewl, drooly lips finding Felix’s is a spit-covered kiss. You can taste yourself on him. His soft mouth makes the tangy, metallic taste sweet, tongues diving into each other’s throats.

Felix pulls away enough to speak, but your kisses attack the corners of his lips and throat as he says, “Do you wanna taste, hyung?”

Minho hums in thought, the pads of his fingers swirling over your clit torturously. Your kisses on Felix’s skin slow. You can still taste your arousal on your tongue, Minho won’t have any problem getting a taste if he kisses you now. But when his fingers dip past your hole to your rim, you know what he wants instead.

“I think I wanna play with something else.” Minho uses his free hand to pull you by your hair gently, making you face him. “How many fingers can you fit in here, kitty?”

He presses, harder and harder until the tip of his finger makes its way inside your ass. Your mouth drops at the feeling, unsure if it feels good because it’s vulnerable or because he’s touching something you know is only used for special occasions.

Minho forces them deeper, making you squeal. “How many?”

“I-I don’t know! Three? F-four?” Changbin’s cock is roughly that wide. You recall having him and Chan trying to fit both their cock in the same hole, but there wasn’t enough lube to accommodate their size.

He moans, soft and pretty. His finger turns into two, and rather than just the tip, you feel him sink to the knuckle. All the while Felix makes sure to play with your pussy to keep your juices flowing to your ass.

“You dirty slut. You’re perfect.” Minho doesn’t hesitate in fucking his fingers into you. They curl and rub as if it was your pussy, but with how full you are, it feels like it is.

“Shit. Good fucking ass. You’ve taken a cock in there, haven't you?”

You nod, unable to speak. Your throat can’t do anything but moan. The sounds get even louder when Minho’s fingers slip out, opting to stand and untie his sweats. You only get a second to see his bulge before it springs out, flushed and leaking. He takes his place in front of you, holding you by the knees.

Minho has a full view of your gaping ass, of Felix’s relentless fingers playing with your clit. You’d be shy in any other scenario, but with the taste of you still lingering on your tongue and the need in your stomach, it’s nonexistent.

You drool when you see him stroke himself, the throbbing of his cock intensifying. You spread your legs more and let him guide his tip to your ass, holding your breath for the breach.

“You’ve never taken a dick like mine, baby. I’ll make you cum in seconds.”

Felix snorts beside you, but it sounds muffled with the blood rushing to your ears. His cock is warm entering you. Everything feels so much intensified when your ass is used. You can feel every curve and every vein inside.

His rounded head slips in with ease, especially when Felix smears your dripping arousal down to Minho’s remaining shaft and your rim.

You choke on a sob when his pelvis is flush against you.

“Fuck yes.” Minho bares throat. His head falls back, red neck on display. “Knew you’d take it all.” Even with no eyes, his buttons seem crazed. That burgundy color turning redder by the second.

His pace is slow, still adjusting to how your walls squeeze unbelievably tight and warm. It’s easy to confuse the slick from your pussy coming from your ass instead, but it's hard not to ooze arousal with Felix rubbing you.

Your clit feels on fire. Even with nothing in your cunt, it feels like you’re stuffed beyond full. It’s puffy, swollen, and wet. Felix doesn’t stop rubbing for a second even when you let out a pleasurable scream when Minho picks up his pace.

“Oh my god.” You’re staring at the mess between your legs. “Ohmygod, ohmygod. Fuck! I’m gonna pee. Waitwaitwait.”

You know it’s not piss, but it’s been so long since you squirted that you nearly forgot you could. The warmth in your stomach builds too fast, too overwhelming. Tipping over the edge never felt so close, yet so far. There’s nothing for your pussy to clench on. Felix’s fingers are moving too fast for your clit to throb and Minho’s cock is bruising into you at a pace that isn’t slow or quick enough.

You forgot how dreadfully good it feels to never come down from your high. To be stuck at the peak because they simply don’t care.

Chan and Changbin always made sure to have you cum over and over, but having your body spam from the lack thereof is a feeling you never want to forget again.

“Yeah?” Minho laughs. “Looks like kitty needs a little more training, huh, Felix?”

Felix yanks your shirt up, exposing your tits and making you bite the material. Saliva immediately begins to pool in the cotton, but then men are too distracted by your tits to care.

Felix leans into your chest. “Try holding it in, yeah? Minho can be stern when he wants to be.”

You feel his teeth clamp down on your nipple. How they think you can stop yourself from soiling the couch is laughable. Felix tugs on the peak of your breast and rubs your clit all while Minho pistons his cock in and out of your ass.

You squirt within seconds.

Since nothing is blocking your cunt, your arousal flows out freely. Felix’s digits only make your juices fly farther, splattering on Minho’s chest and your thighs.

There’s a moment where you’re gasping so hard your head spins. All you can hear are the moans tumbling from your stuffed mouth and Minho’s psychotic laughter. Felix tries to help the fountain between your legs by slowing down, but his hyung doesn’t slow his thrusts at all.

“Bad fucking kitty! Now I have to cum in your ass.” His buttons lock on Felix’s. “Did I tell you to stop?”

The tiny fingers resume their harsh pace, but Felix pouts. “You’re gonna tire her out. My cock hurts too, ya know?”

Sanity glints in Minho’s buttons. It’s as if your ass was too good, making him completely forget about his roommates' needs.

He pulls out without hesitation. You groan when it slips from you, feeling like you can finally breathe.

“Lixie. I’m such a bad hyung.” It’s the first time his voice is soft. Caring. “You want her ass?”

Felix’s fingers go to your hole, your cunt. You let out a drawled moan when his fingers wiggle their way inside. It feels so good to have your pussy filled right after squirting.

“I just want her pussy. You can still have her ass. I know that’s your favorite.”

The roommates share a laugh, talking about you like you’re nothing but a toy. All you can do is groan when they change your position. Your back aches from your legs being in the air for so long, but the pain subsides when they plant you on all fours on the couch, hovering over Felix with Minho behind you.

Felix’s cock is a little thing, so similar to Changbin’s. They don’t share the same thickness in the slightest, but you’re thankful for Felix’s size when they enter you at the same time.

Had he been any bigger, you don’t doubt that you would’ve split. The stretch is porno worthy. Your walls open easily for both of them, their cocks molding their shape inside you. Their pace is so different. Felix is getting used to the feel of your cunt for the first time whereas Minho is chasing his high.

The thrusts from behind make you bounce on Felix’s dick. Your breasts jiggle in his face so tempting that it doesn’t take long for him to pop a nipple in his mouth.

Like before, his bites and licks encourage you to rock between them.

Minho has a firm grip on your ass, spreading your cheeks to see his cock bury itself between them. “Your ass is so wet. Feels just like a pussy.” He stills, hips flush against you. He groans when you whimper. “Squeezes just like one too.”

This time, you know you’ll be able to cum properly. The orgasm builds in your stomach until it coils, clenching on the two cocks in warning.

“Sh-shit.” Felix curses with your breast in his mouth. “I’mma cum already.”

“Mhm.” He grunts, fucking you earnestly. “Good set of holes.”

You choose to take that as a compliment. Your walls are gripping them so tight that it feels as though they’re fucking you in the same place. But when your chest burns and the warmth in your belly finally uncoils, you know it’s Felix’s cock you cum on.

Even though your body freezes to ooze with cream, Minho doesn’t stop. Not even as Felix howls with pleasure or you plead with overstimulation, his cock bullies into your ass until you flood with their seed.

You can’t tell whose cum is filling from where. It feels everywhere, outside and inside. You collapse on Felix’s chest, panting with exhaustion. Minho thrusts a few more times for good measure before pulling out, moaning in the process.

Felix follows soon after, his softening cock between your and his pelvis’. The warm strings of cum pour from your holes and you feel Minho play with it. Whether or not he shoves it back into your gaping ass or cunt, you can’t tell.

It all feels the same.

Ding. Ding.

You three jump at the sound of the doorbell. Felix and Minho share a confused look, the older grabbing his sweats and putting his legs through the pant holes. It seems that their visitor requires both of them, being that Felix slips from under you and pecks your forehead.

You suppose this is your cue to wake up.

But as they tuck their cocks away and close the curtains to the living room, you don’t wake.

Weird.

You’re about to begin counting sheep when something black moves in the corner of your eye. It takes a few seconds for your hazy vision to focus on a cat, the only one moving sly and quickly.

Unlike the other sculpted cats with buttons for eyes on the walls, this one has blue, normal eyes. Just like the one from the woods.

“Hmm,” your voice is groggy. “Hannie’s got a cat like you back at home. You must be the Other cat.”

That cat narrows its eyes at you, nose up turning into a sneer. “No. I’m not the other anything. I’m me.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Your eyelids flutter in shock, but your mind is so fuzzy that you can’t be too surprised.

You’re still sleeping after all.

“I see you don’t have buttons for eyes, but if you’re the real cat, how can you speak?”

“Too many questions and not enough time,” his whiskers twitch. “They won’t be distracted for long. They don’t like me very much.”

You snort, “I find that hard to believe. They said they like cats.”

“They like things that listen. They want a pet. And I’m hardly one to behave.”

Talking takes a lot of effort. You can feel your eyelids drooping and your limbs relaxing on the couch, but you manage to peek at the kitty. “I don’t think I’d mind being their little pet every now and then.”

The cat does not laugh with you. Instead, he leaps from the shelves on the wall and quietly lands on the couch, mere inches from your tired face.

“You probably think this world is a dream come true. But you’re wrong. If you come back here again, we won’t let you leave.”

We. A spark of anxiety lights in your chest. His piercing eyes, the only ones here besides yours, are full of truth. Something about his gaze and mannerisms screams human. “Are you really a cat?”

“I am as much as a cat as this is a dream.” His tail tickles your nose just enough to keep you awake for a few seconds. “Listen to me and do not go through the door again. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave the Pink Palace and not look back.”

Like any normal cat, he glares at you one last time. “Or don’t. Afterall, I’m just a stupid cat. Aren’t I?”

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