#THE LIP TREMBLE™

[boyleblr]

ANTHONY BOYLE as JOHN WILKES BOOTH in MANHUNT (2024), episode six

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐇𝐒𝐑 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰/𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

synopsis: HSR men and the type of spicy piercing they have

tags: mentions of piercings, body modification, vulgar, explicit

a/n: this one was fun pls lmk if yall want more or possibly a genshin one

₊˚⊹ ᰔ BLADE…

You can feel the cold metal of his piercings pressed against your navel . He trails his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

As he moves lower, he reaches behind you to unhook your bra. His fingers graze your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Once your bra is off, he moves his attention to your nipples, taking one into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue.

But it's not just his mouth that's working. His luster of sterling silver dropped down lower, placing itself inbetween your lips, adding an extra level of excitement to the encounter. You moan as he continues his ministrations, your body trembling with pleasure.

“You like how that feels huh?” He asks, “feels even better inside I bet.” He whispers, letting the tip of his cock slip in til it reaches your sensitive clit, even more shaken with the cold metal dragging itself back and forth.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ BOOTHILL…

With his devilish grin and tongue piercing. He moves towards you, his eyes locked on yours. You can't help but feel a little nervous as he kisses you, the piercing sharing the room in your mouth.

He pulls away, his tongue piercing tracing a path down your chest and abdomen. You gasp as he reaches your clit, the piercing adding an extra level of sensation as it teases and rubs against you.

'Oh god,' you moan, your hips bucking up to meet his tongue.

He smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. He continues to work you with his tongue, the piercing adding a unique texture and intensity to the experience.

“Mhmm…keep squirming around like that, makes it so much more fun eh sweetheart?”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ SAMPO…

With his playful smile and nipple piercings, he's the last but certainly not least of the group. He moves in close, his chest pressing against yours as he kisses you deeply.

You can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercings against your skin, and it sends another wave of pleasure through your body. He reaches behind you to grab your ass, pulling you closer as he continues to kiss you.

As the kiss deepens, his hands move to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples while his own are so close to your skin they make you shiver.. He breaks the kiss, moving his attention to your breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“You like that?” he asks, grinning as he sees the pleasure on your face. “Maybe we should some matching ones for these perfect tits huh?”

You can only nod, completely lost in the moment.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Old Man!Logan x Reader | Includes daddy kink / ddlg, oral & vaginal sex, spanking, cum-eating, squirting, SoftDomBigDickLogan™

Porn begins right under the cut 🥀

“It-it hurts,” you sniffle, your whole body tensing. Logan scoffs against your ear, his hot breath raising goosebumps along your neck. “It does, huh?” he taunts. “Then how come you’re pushin’ back on Daddy like you want more?” He slams his hips forward, punching even deeper into your cunt. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth forming a pouty circle as the air is knocked out of you.

Logan is impossibly big. It’s hard to believe he could stretch you any wider and yet, his cock is somehow lodged so deeply inside you that his balls are tapping your ass. “Tell me to stop,” he grunts. “And I will.”

Logan stopping is the last thing you want. Even though it feels like your cunt’s never going to recover after the fuck he’s giving it, you’d gladly let him ruin your body as long as he doesn’t. fucking. stop.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, followed by a sharp gasp as Logan’s palm meets the fat of your ass in a hard swat. “Use your words, angel,” he scolds, his cock throbbing against your walls.

“Don’t stop,” you pant back in response. You press your ass against Logan’s belly, eyes squeezed shut as your cunt swallows the rest of his cock with a loud squelch. He curves his body around yours, murmuring “good girl,” against your neck, lips pressing a small kiss on your shoulder.

Logan wraps an arm around your upper body, pinning your back against his chest. His other hand massages and squeezes your tits, drifting over your stomach and settling between your thighs. Logan drags his heavy cock back slowly, then thrusts forward, his hand groping your cunt.

You feel like a doll in his hands, completely in Logan’s control, at his disposal to do with as he likes. He slides a hand around your throat, your pulse thrumming against his wide palm. “God you feel so good,” Logan groans, his voice wavering. Arousal drips down your thighs, the musky scent of your cum and Logan’s sweat filling the room.

He braces his feet on either side of yours, his thick thighs encasing you, the coarse hair on Logan’s stomach rubbing against your back as he humps into you. Your clit throbs under Logan’s touch, his fingers moving rapidly over the slippery bead. The pleasure is so intense it borders on pain, the pulsing ache in your cunt growing stronger where it rests in Logan’s huge palm.

Each drive of his hips pushes more cum out of you, gushing down your legs. You tremble around Logan’s cock, arching your back against his stomach as he pumps you, massaging every inch of his shaft between your walls. The world feels fuzzy, like a haze has descended over your awareness. Everything is too intense, in the best way. Your thighs begin to shake, lips parting in a moan.

Logan removes his fingers from your clit, bringing them to your open mouth and pressing them past your lips. “Suck,” he murmurs at your ear, his voice husky and strained. “Eat your own cum for Daddy, angel…Tell me how good you taste.”

You moan softly around Logan’s fingers, the slick texture of cum melting on your tongue. He balls your hair up in a fist, his other hand closing around your chin and tilting your face to his.

“Wider,” Logan gently commands, and you open up for him, extending your tongue, slippery with the pearly liquid he fed you. He takes your tongue between his lips, sucking your cum from it. He growls at the heady taste of you, his nostrils flaring, the flavor of your cunt awakening something primal in Logan.

He pulls out of you abruptly, your cunt puckering in his absence. A gush of liquid spills from between your thighs and spatters onto the floor, your body shaking in Logan’s arms as a climax overwhelms you without warning. Logan locks his bicep around you, forcing you in place so you don’t hurt yourself.

After letting you finish, he collects your pliant body in his arms. Seeking the nearest hard surface to fuck you on, Logan approaches the kitchen table and bends you over it. His body dwarfs yours; the shadow of his frame swallows you whole. Logan fixes his palm against the small of your back, pressing your stomach flat to the table. You lay limp and compliant for Logan, letting him take you. The afterglow of your orgasm has left you completely fucked-out and dazed; Logan could do literally anything he wants with your body right now, and you’d be unable (and unwilling) to resist.

He spreads your legs wide, his hand shoved roughly between them. “Christ you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Logan marvels, parting your lips with his fingers, playing with the slick making them glisten. He spanks your ass, lurching you out of the post-orgasm daze you’ve been in. “Stay just like that,” Logan growls, kneeling between your legs. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ move.”

He presses his face to your sex, the tip of his nose penetrating you slightly, his tongue lapping your clit in wide strokes. You grip the sides of the table, arms stretched across it. Logan’s hands latch onto the fat of your hips, his fingers digging marks into the plumpness there. Bracing yourself against the table, you hump Logan’s tongue, his nose nuzzling deeper as you rock back and forth on top of it.

The sounds in the room are beautifully filthy, throaty grunts of pleasure spilling from your lips…the creaking of the wooden table beneath you as you lean against it for support…Logan’s panted breath as he pulls air through his mouth before resuming his tongue’s assault on your clit. Your forehead presses against the table, your fingernails chewing at the wood as a second climax rips through you. Logan growls into your cunt, fucking himself with his fist as you come on his face, the muscles in your pussy fluttering around his nose.

Rising to his feet, Logan grabs your hair and whips you around to face him, pulling you onto your knees at his feet. He pumps his cock over you, aiming his tip at your sweat-sheened face. Logan locks his fingers in your hair, forcing your head back. Your mouth opens instinctively, tongue lolling out to catch Logan’s cum.

He bends slightly at his knees, tapping his tip against your tongue, groaning as he empties his release inside your mouth. You refrain from swallowing, allowing Logan to catch his breath and steady himself with one arm leaning against the table behind you. “Show me what Daddy gave you, angel,” Logan says, his voice heavy and relaxed. You stick out your tongue, curving it at the tip so Logan’s cum won’t run off of it. He nods approvingly, a lazy smile coming to his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you. “Now swallow.”

[hoshifighting]

OKAY BUT IMAGINE JEONGHAN EDGING READER OVER AND OVER AGAIN BY A BULLET VIBRATOR AGAINST THEIR CLIT???? AND THE READER IS BOUNDED BY A ROPE!! SHE FEELS TOO MUCH BUT SHE CAN'T SAY ANYTHING DUE TO THE PLEASURE WRECKING HER 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 (JEONGHAN IS MEAN™, LIKE NO SOFT-PLAY HERE JUST IMAGINE!!!!)

*gets a nosebleed*

meanie jeonghan edging reader with vibrator (you asked him to be MEAN™ so he is MEAN™)

you were tied up, completely at jeonghan's mercy, and he had a wicked grin on his face as he held a buzzing vibrator in his hand.

"you're such a fucking slut" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "tied up and begging for it like a whore. you're not going to get it that easily. you're going to have to beg a lot harder if you want to cum."

he increased the intensity of the vibrator, pressing the toy on your puffy clit.

as you felt yourself getting close, he pulled it away, leaving you squirming and desperate for more. but jeonghan just laughed, enjoying your torment as he continued to tease you mercilessly.

he smirked triumphantly as he coated the vibrator with your dripping arousal, knowing full well the effect it would have on you. he pressed it against your swollen clit again, and you couldn't even muster the strength to beg anymore.

''jeonghan'' you whispered.

''ah ah, no''

''hannie'' you cried.

''tsk not yet''

you lost count of the times he denied you orgasm, your whole being was focused on the overwhelming need for release, but jeonghan seemed determined to keep you on the edge.

he knew he could make you cum whenever he wanted, but he enjoyed prolonging your torment, pushing you to the brink and then pulling back at the last moment.

jeonghan's eyes gleamed as he watched you sobbing and trembling beneath him. he pressed the toy against your clit with relentless pressure, circling it teasingly as he savored your desperate cries.

"aw, does it hurt, sweetheart?" he cooed, his tone dripping with false sympathy. "does it feel too much for you? poor thing, all tied up and at my mercy."

you could barely manage a nod, your body wracked with sensation as the vibrator sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you. each touch felt like fire against your oversensitive clit, and you couldn't bear the thought of enduring any more.

jeonghan increased the intensity of the vibrator, making you gasp and arch your back, but instead of pulling the vibrator away like you expected, jeonghan kept it pressed firmly against your clit

you looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of what he would do next. would he deny you again, or would he finally let you cum?

you felt like you were on the verge of breaking. your body convulsed uncontrollably, your legs unable to close due to the ropes binding you in place

but then, with a simple nod from Jeonghan, everything changed. a wave of gratitude washed over you as you realized he was finally going to let you cum.

u cried out in ecstasy as the pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted uncontrollably, soaking both yourself and jeonghan in your release.

it was the most intense orgasm of your life, leaving you spent and completely drained. your body went limp against the ropes, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you lay there, utterly spent and sated.

you felt jeonghan wipe away your tears with gentle fingers.

but before you could even catch your breath, you heard the telltale buzz of the vibrator once again.

your eyes shot open in panic, but before you could protest, jeonghan pressed it against your sensitive clit.

the sensation was almost too much to bear. your entire body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with oversensitivity. you pleaded with jeonghan to stop, to give you a moment to recover, but all he did was smirk in response.

"hold it." he commanded.

[daisies-daydreams]

Okay so I was listening to the song agora hills (not saying I like Doja but her song hit okay? Hate the sinner love the sin) ANDDDD it have major hobie brown x lovesick puppy reader. Like this woman is DEVOTED to her mans. Like really devoted. On her knees with puppy eyes type of love. Always wanting to be on him and nuzzling him. Whines when he tries to move. Just very..loving. Hobie doesn’t mind obviously. And it gets worse when they have sex. She whines while his cock rams into her, grabbing the sheets tightly to ground her🙏. SO YES I NEED A FIC LIKE THATTT…just very fluffy but smeggsy sex

Somethin’ Different About You (Hobie Brown x Lovesick!F!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Lovesick!F!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut Tags: Swearing, Reader Gets Whiney, Making Out, Foreplay, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Piercings (Prince Albert), Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Doggy Style, Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Creampie, Post-Sex Cuddling, Cockwarming, Ass-Lover Hobie™ Word Count: 3k+ A/N: I literally listened to Agora Hills for the first time a few weeks ago and it was 😩👌Anywhoooo, thank you for the spicy request and I hope you enjoy!

“Guess we’re havin’ a night in,” Hobie shrugged as he peeked at the thick blanket of snow covering the street below. Frost caked the outside of your flat’s window as a tiny space heater hummed in the corner of your room. Your boyfriend closed the blinds shut before turning towards you with a quirked brow.

“You cold, babydoll?” Hobie asked as he watched you tremble beneath the thick comforter. You nodded as your teeth chattered incessantly. Hobie pursed his lips before he lumbered towards your bed. Your heart skipped a beat as your love cupped your cheek, his palm already warming you to the core.

“You want me to help warm you up?” he murmured, a hint of desire laced in his words as he looked at you with a soft, half-lidded gaze. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you eagerly nodded your head.

“P-Please,” you frowned and wiggled beneath your comforter. Hobie cracked a grin and chuckled before he grabbed the bottom of his red t-shirt. Your eyes widened as he quickly slipped his shirt over his head, his puffy wicks fanning out as he tossed the clothing aside. You sucked in a sharp breath as you raked your eyes over his lean abs, your eyes eventually landing on the thick, dark happy trail.

“Like what you see, lovie?” Hobie snickered with a teasing grin. You bit your lip as your cheeks swelled with heat.

"I can't help it," you muttered sheepishly as you glanced away. Your boyfriend snickered as he unlatched the buckle of his studded leather belt, his ripped jeans falling to the floor not long after. You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you caught side of Hobie's dark boxers loosely hanging around his sharp hips. He chuckled again.

“Scoot on over, baby,” he lilted. You immediately did as you were told, your heart pounding in your ears as he slid beneath the covers with you. You instantly came to his side and snuggled against his warm body, your lips curled into a giddy smile as he wrapped his lanky arms around you. “Mmm, there’s my pretty girl,” Hobie cooed before gently kissing the crown of your head. You squealed and dipped your head into his chest as he wrapped one of his ankles around yours.

Hobie sighed, letting his warm breath cascade over the back of your ear and down your neck as he held you close. Your heart skipped a beat as he nuzzled his face into your neck - his plush lips delicately brushing over your pulse and nose ring gliding against your skin.

“I was thinkin’…maybe after the weather gets better, we could go iceskatin’? I know you've been wantin' to go for a while,” he suggested as he traced mindless shapes against your hip. Your eyes lit up as you wiggled at his suggestion.

“Really?” you breathed while tilting your head over your shoulder. Hobie hummed and gave a lopsided grin.

“Really really,” he replied. Your smile grew as you turned around and pecked his lips. Hobie grinned into the kiss as he spread his palm across your waist. His lips on yours felt like sunlight on a spring day: warm and soothing to the touch. You whined when he suddenly started to slip away.

“Babe, I’m just gettin’ a glass of water,” Hobie laughed. You pouted as you gazed into his deep, brown eyes.

“No, you’re too warm,” you keened and rolled on top of him. Your lover chuckled softly as you shoved your face into his neck. He sighed and stroked his hands up and down your back as he pecked your temple.

"I'll be gone for a bit, yeah?" he said while gently brushing his thick thumbs over your hips. Your heart fluttered at his light touch as you parted your lips against his skin. Hobie’s breath hitched as you gently kissed his pulse, letting your lips linger against his neck as you felt his hands tighten around your waist. “Please? Just a little longer?” you murmured, your lips dancing over his sensitive pulse as your breasts pushed against his chest. Hobie swallowed thickly as he tilted his head back. His pupils grew by the second as you gave him your best puppy-dog eyes. Your boyfriend sighed and scratched the back of his head.

“Well…who am I to deny my baby ?” your lover said with a cocked grin. You squealed and wiggled on top of him, drawing another deep, melodic chuckle from his throat. You smiled widely as you finally felt like you were starting to warm up against your beloved’s body, his hands wandering up and down your sides as he peppered your cheek with kisses. You giggled before he suddenly laid his palms against your ass and tenderly squeezed your supple cheeks.

A mischievous smile crossed Hobie’s features as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Y’know…there’s another way I could help warm you up,” he whispered while smoothing his hands up and down your bum.

You squealed as he suddenly flipped you over, his long body draped along your back as your stomach and breasts pressed against the ruffled sheets. You whined as you felt him trace his hands along the curve of your butt.

“You wanna feel my fingers stuffin’ that perfect pussy of yours, sweet girl?” Hobie purred as he teased the band of your pants with his nimble fingers. Your walls fluttered as you gulped.

"Y-Yes please," you murmured and swayed your hips side to side. Your jaw went slack when he suddenly tugged your pants and panties over the globes of your ass.

You shivered as the cold air rolled over your exposed skin while Hobie slipped his hand between your soft thighs. You keened and arched your back as Hobie gently circled his fingertips over your slick, needy hole. You trembled as he pecked over your neck and slid his long, heavy fingers up and down your juicy slit. You moaned and wiggled beneath your lover as he spread your folds apart, the small squelch sending a pulse of heat through your dripping snatch.

"Keep making those noises f'me, baby. Love hearin' your sweet voice," Hobie purred before puckering his lips over your neck. You gasped and mewled as he suckled on your pulse while smoothing his fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Mmm, good girl," he groaned before lathing his warm tongue over the fresh hickey adorning your neck.

"Hobie, please," you pouted and shifted your hips as he continued to tease your puffy clit with his digits. You felt him smirk against your pulse as he trailed his fingers further down your slit. You squeezed your eyes shut and ducked your head into your arms as he gently prodded your entrance wide open with two thick fingers.

"God, you feel so fuckin’ warm," Hobie rumbled before sucking over your neck once more. You panted as you felt him sink his digits even deeper inside your wet heat, feeling every inch of his long fingers drag along your velvety walls.

“H-Hobieee~,” you keened as you felt your tight hole being stretched by his nimble digits. Your walls pulsed as he peppered your neck with wet, sloppy kisses. The deep groan that reverberated inside Hobie’s chest made you quiver as he began to slowly pump his fingers inside your dripping sex. A sharp cry fell from your lips as he scissored his digits within your tight heat.

“Such a sweet girl,” your boyfriend murmured as he skillfully curled his fingers with a wet squelch. You squirmed as he slipped his other hand up your burning body, his fingers taking a greedy handful of your breast before giving it a tender squeeze.

“F-Faster, please,” you begged him while slapping your ass against his palm. Hobie’s snicker reverberated against your neck before he slammed his fingers down to the knuckle. You squirmed and keened at the delicious push and pull of his digits against your sensitive, velvety walls.

“Fuck,” you choked out as you ducked your face into the pillow. Your body jiggled each time he thrusted his fingers back into you, drawing out heavy sighs and sonorous moans from your pretty lips.

“Yeah, that’s it baby girl,” your boyfriend praised as he snaked his other hand around and began to draw sloppy shapes around your clit. You tensed beneath him as your walls fluttered against his long, curved digits. “Don’t hold back - I want you to cum on my fingers before I fuck this cute little pussy of yours,” your lover rumbled in a low, husky voice before nipping at your earlobe.

Your eyes rolled back as he rubbed your clit with even more fervor, each stroke bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your sweet release.

“H-Hobie,” you writhed as he tugged the collar of your sweater to the side. A small gasp left you as Hobie nibbled on your shoulder before lathing his warm, wet tongue over the tiny bite mark. Your legs violently shook as your boyfriend's fingertips brushed against your gummy cervix, the sensation causing the band inside you to violently snap.

“Fuck yes!” you cried out and threw your head back as your pussy squeezed his digits in a greedy vice - soaking his nimble fingers with your warm, delectable nectar.

“Christ,” Hobie cursed as he slowly dragged his fingers inside your puckering hole. “Makin’ such a mess, babydoll," your lover drawled. Your jaw went slack when he curled his fingers against your g-spot; a massive wave of pleasure rolling through your fluttering cunt as you mewled. “I fuckin’ love it,” Hobie murmured while smirking against your shoulder.

You felt like your limbs were turned to jelly by the time your walls stopped pulsing around his thick digits. Your breath hitched as your boyfriend slowly pulled out his deft fingers, leaving your entrance raw and oozing with your cream. You slowly opened your eyes when you felt something warm and slick against the corner of your mouth.

"Go on, lovie: see how good you taste," your lover rumbled. You parted your lips with a heavy sigh before Hobie slipped in his slick-coated digits. You moaned softly as the sweet taste of your own cum washed over your delicate tastebuds. Hobie groaned and pulled his boxers down as you curled your lips over his fingers and suckled on them tenderly.

"Fuck, that's a good girl," he praised as you swirled your tongue around his thick, long fingers. You fluttered your lashes as he pulled his fingers towards the inside of your cheek. You mewled and thrusted your ass back as you felt the cold bulb of his cock piercing rub up and down your drenched slit.

"You still want me to stretch out this cute pussy with my thick cock, hm?" Hobie chuckled as he teased your needy clit with his throbbing tip.

"Fuck, yes!" you slurred against his fingers as you threw your ass back. You could practically feel the smirk on Hobie's face as he slipped his fingers from your mouth with a wet "pop". You shivered as he traced his wet fingertips along your spine before smoothing his palm over one of your supple asscheeks. You squirmed against your lover's touch as he lined his tip to your weeping entrance. The ache to be filled with his long, veiny cock drove you into a lustful frenzy as you whined.

"Hobie, please! I-I need you," you mewled your cheeks jiggling against his taut hips as his bulbous head just barely slipped past the rim of your tight hole. You shivered as his hot breath fell against your neck.

"I'm here, baby," he murmured gently as he spread your cheeks apart. You gasped and instantly curled your fists against the soft, cotton sheets as Hobie slowly pushed his girth inside your needy cunt.

"Fuck, Hobie!" you moaned and squeezed your eyes shut as your walls stretched and molded to the perfect curve of his length.

"God, you wrap around me so fuckin' perfectly," Hobie grunted as he squeezed your bum. A shiver ran down your spine and straight to your core when his sharp hips became flush against your ass, his whole length stuffing you to the limit. You swallowed thickly and mewled as you felt his heavy balls rest snugly against your puffy clit: the light pressure enough to make you nearly fall over the edge again.

"Oh my fuckin' God," Hobie groaned as your walls pulsed around his shaft. Your eyes shot open as he dragged his cock half-way out before slowly thrusting it back inside your tight, squelching hole. "Pussy feels so good, lovie," he moaned as he rocked his hips at a steady pace.

"F-Fuck," you keened at the delectable, wet friction of his dick gliding along your silky walls. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you felt your cunt spasm and clench around his cock. "No, not yet," you begged internally before gasping as he slammed his cock down to the hilt.

Your moans nearly shook the walls as Hobie's pace began to pick up, the tightness in your core growing with every drag of his dick. Your legs trembled as you felt his Prince Albert kiss and rub against your cervix with each eager thrust.

"S-Shit, babydoll. Huggin' me so tight," Hobie grunted as he dug his nails into your hips, the pressure enough to surely leave bruises tomorrow. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as stars began to dance in your vision.

"God, yes - k-keep going," you moaned and arched your spine as you felt every nerve ending in your body glow with pleasure. Your body instantly stiffened when Hobie slipped his fingers against your engorged clit.

"Hobie!" you screamed as the cord inside you violently snapped. Your eyes rolled back as waves of pleasure crashed and tumbled over you - a riptide of bliss tearing your mind to shreds. Your legs quaked as your pussy clenched down on his dick - gripping it in a deliciously snug vice.

"Oh God," Hobie grunted as his thrusts faltered, your walls pulsing and soaking his cock with your warm slick. You babbled his name incessantly as he began to snap his hips forward once more. "You're so fuckin' hot when you squirt all over my cock, baby," your boyfriend moaned while pounding into your puffy cunt.

You could only manage a strangled mewl as your body was shaken with wave after wave of overstimulation. Your jaw went slack at the sound of your cheeks clapping each time Hobie's hips slapped against your body.

"Want me to fill you up, sweet girl?" Hobie purred as he began to rub messy circles around your bundle of nerves. You released a strained cry of pleasure when his cock twitched between your snug walls. "C'mon, baby: let me here you," your lover coaxed before gently pressing his soft lips to your shoulder. You parted your lips as you slightly tilted your head to the side.

"Y-Yes," your voice cracked as you felt yourself already growing tight again. Only Hobie could do this: make you cum so many times before he eventually filled you up with his thick, potent seed. "Yes, H-Hobie. Please stuff me so full that your cum leaks from my pussy," you mewled. You felt him smirk against the patch of goosebumps over your skin as he continued to thrust his heavy length into your aching, stretched out hole.

"That's my girl," Hobie's breath stuttered before he latched his mouth onto your skin. You threw your head back and keened as you felt the gentle suction of his lips against the tender bite mark left from before. Your mind was too far-gone with pleasure to even register the sound of your bed loudly creaking and groaning as your lover's thrusts began to falter.

"Fuck, (Y/N). Cum with me, lovie. Cum with-" Hobie cut himself off as he suddenly slammed his cock down to the base. Both of you moaned in unison as waves of pleasure rocked you to the core. "Fuck yes," Hobie gasped as his cock pulsed inside your drenched cunt, painting your walls with ropes of this thick seed. Your head spun as he panted against your shoulder, his fingers now digging crescents into your plush waist.

"S-So good, Hobie," you shuddered as your body was ravaged with euphoria. You panted heavily as your pussy sucked him deep inside you, his piercing pressing against the gummy plug to your womb as his cock continued to throb. Your heart pounded in your ears as you drifted back down from your high, your body coated in a thin sheet of sweat as Hobie groaned.

The room was filled with the sound of your combined, heavy panting as the two of you caught your breath. You whimpered as he slowly began to pull out.

"You okay, lovie?" Hobie asked as he smoothed his hands over the marks he dug into your hips. You sighed as you soaked in every dip and curve of his body pressed against yours: from his calloused fingertips lingering on your skin to his softening cock still trapped between your cum-coated walls.

"I...I just want us to stay like this," you said while biting your lip, your heart pounding against your sternum as you fluttered your lashes. "Please?" you cooed. Hobie chuckled softly as he gave a slow nod.

"As you wish," he hummed. You squeaked when he suddenly wrapped his lanky arms around your torso and plopped onto his side.

"Hobie!" you laughed as he pecked your neck while pulling you flush against him. You giggled at the cheeky smile plastered on his face as he peppered your neck with slow, lazy kisses. Your body glowed with warmth as he sighed and traced his fingertips over the curves of your stomach.

"You're so special t'me, y'know that?" Hobie said, his voice hoarse yet also endearingly soft. You slowly turned your head and gave him a gentle smile.

"You're special to me, too, Hobie," you murmured before kissing the tip of his pierced nose. Your boyfriend grinned ear-to-ear as he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into your neck.

"Love you, babydoll," Hobie murmured as he slowly closed his eyes. You giggled when he suddenly let out a loud snore, the sound rumbling through your ear as his chest rose and fell. You cooed and pecked his cheek before pulling the covers over your worn bodies.

"Love you, too, Hobie," you whispered gently.

————

Thank you for reading! 💖

Taglist: @fordo-wifey @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @thedevax @famouscattale @spktrgantenk @zombieblogx @mrswhitethornbelikov @migueloharastruelove @galaxy-dusk @samanthashadowriley @theloneshadow24 @xxkay15xx @inspace1 @manlikemilesmyguy @ghostslynx @synamonthy @oharasfilipinawife @scaleniusrm @jotarossshark @acotarobbsessed @8xbygirl @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @lyrasdrawer @rinverse @mcmiracles

Want to be a part of my taglist? Comment down below! (MUST BE 18 OR OLDER)

[cogentsummoner]

4- lips barely touching small all might x reader

4. lips barely touching

however, this fic is also heavily inspired by these three pieces of art!

You're not sure if he's aware of how obvious he's being.

It's the Might Tower Employee Christmas Party™, and your boss- or rather, your boss' boss, one Mr. Yagi- has been staring wistfully at the mistletoe since he arrived.

Not that you've been watching him the whole time, mind you. That would be weird.

He's been staring at the mistletoe in between chatting with some other folks, but he hasn't yet worked up the courage to walk under it. It's not too out of the way, but it's also not, y'know, literally in the doorway. Easy to avoid if you want, but also easy enough to bump into someone accidentally, too.

And that's your plan.

"I do think having me come with you to peer pressure the kiss is the best option," your friend says before downing the rest of his eggnog. "Mr. Yagi is liable to run away like a startled deer if you don't."

"See, I think the peer pressure will just make him more anxious," you counter.

You like Mr. Yagi. He's quite possibly the nicest boss('s boss) you've ever had. He remembers everyone's birthdays, he's always happy to talk to...well, anyone, really, and he's just... sweet. Sweet and genuine in a way that's incredibly endearing. And attractive.

Okay, so maybe you have a little crush on Mr. Yagi. And maybe this whole mistletoe thing is the perfect excuse to kiss him. If he didn't want to be kissed, maybe he shouldn't be- oh fuck, he's finally making his move, he's making a beeline for that mistletoe!

"Oh, shit, go go go!" your friend whisper-yells, giving you a firm shove in the direction of that same mistletoe.

Fuck, okay, you can do this.

Mr. Yagi notices you as stumble towards him, stopping just underneath the mistletoe, and just like he always does, he gives you that big, bright smile you love so much.

Then- and you can see this happen in real time- it clicks in his brain where you both are, and a deep blush blooms on his face.

You look from him, to the mistletoe, then back to him, feeling warmth spread over your own cheeks.

"It's- um- we don't have to! If you're uncomfortable!" he rushes to reassure you, and you can't help but let out a little giggle. It's cute. He's cute.

"I'm comfortable," you reply with a shy smile. "If you are."

He nods shakily, his hand trembling just the slightest bit as it cups your cheek and he slowly leans down.

"You're certain?" he asks, and you wonder for a moment if you'd misread the situation, and he actually just doesn't want to kiss you, but...there's something quiet and wanting in his gaze, all the same.

So it was probably just nerves. You nod, trying not to look too eager. Yes, you want him to kiss you. God, do you want him to kiss you.

His eyes squeeze shut when he finally closes that distance, his lips brushing against yours softly, so softly. Too softly. Way, way too softly, and way too quick.

He pulls back, still trembling, just the slightest bit, his gaze full of longing.

You let out a huff, and bring your hands up to cup his face.

"Mr. Yagi, what kind of kiss was that?" you admonish playfully. Before he can get any wrong ideas in his head, you pull him back down into a kiss- a real kiss this time.

It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what was happening- then, he absolutely melts in your hands, his own hands shyly coming to rest on your waist.

It's clearly been a long time since he'd been kissed- which does blow a hole in the rumor that Mr. Yagi and All Might were sleeping together-but he certainly doesn't want for enthusiasm or passion.

You're all too happy to lean into it, one hand sliding back to play with the hair at the back of his neck. The two of you would've been content to stay like that, had you both not been reminded-

The sound of a camera going off rings through the air.

-that you had an audience.

Mr. Yagi immediately pulls back, face flushing a deep red as he looks around and realizes - yep, a lot of your coworkers were unabashedly staring at the spectacle you two had made of yourselves.

You know they mean no harm- Mr. Yagi was very, very well liked, even if he wasn't the best at actually doing his job, and the only enemies you've made at work have been that one guy in accounting. Everyone's just caught up in what must look like a cute little moment.

But Mr. Yagi wasn't seeing it that way, you can tell. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and there was sweat breaking out on his face. He felt exposed, maybe even humiliated.

So you don't take it personally when he turns to you and says limply, "I-I… I should go, I'm… I'm sorry. Merry Christmas."

You watch him practically run out of there, his face burning, your heart sinking despite yourself.

It's a few minutes later when a coworker who'd come in late walks over to you and tells you, "Hey, I think Mr. Yagi just went back to his office- when I walked by him, he'd pressed up on the elevator."

You nod, and thank them. It's good that he hasn't left- you'll give him about ten minutes to compose himself, then go check on him. No way were you letting this moment fade into an embarrassing memory for either of you. Not after that kiss.

prompt list/ accepting!

[jarondont]

Aftermath (odypen fanfic)

TW: mentioned SA and (according to my friend) slightly (and I mean SLIGHTLY) suggestive

[I was pretty proud of this one so I wanted to share :D]

[credit to @dootznbootz for the Water Wife™ headcanon]

The palace halls were deserted this time of night. The two lovers had taken an evening stroll — more like midnight stroll — and were still drenched from the creek. It wasn’t her fault, she insisted — Odysseus started it. Had he never smugly commented about his “godlike looks,” Penelope might have not used her naiad powers and they both would probably still be dry. But no.

That lovable little bighead, she thought to herself, smiling.

“What is it?” he asked from beside her. She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at him — then, seeing his cocky grin, looked back down. Her cheeks felt hot.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how embarrassed you looked after the creek incident.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Quit arguing like a child,” she chuckled.

He pretended to pout, softening his expression like a little pup as he always did to persuade her.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

His grin returned, wider this time. “Why not? Too gorgeous for you?”

She stopped walking and playfully shoved his shoulder into the nearest pillar. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. For a second, they stayed there, looking into each other’s eyes, barely able to breathe.

She eyed his lips. He eyed hers. She inched her face closer, almost closing the gap between them —

“Wait.”

Confused, she pulled back. “What?”

Odysseus was trembling. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his skin pale. “I just … I can’t.”

“Why not?” Penelope’s brows furrowed. “Odysseus, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond. His chest was heaving, his eyes flicking wildly from one spot to another — looking at everything but her. And he wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Odysseus. Ody, look at me.”

He did, but his eyes were wild.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you. Did I do something? Say something?”

“No — no, I …” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“It’s okay, Ody. You can tell me.”

“Ca — ” his breath hitched. “Calypso,” he breathed, barely audible.

“What — ” Suddenly, Penelope understood. She’d heard that word before. Calypso wasn’t a what.

She was a who.

“Another woman?” Penelope took a step back. “Is that what this is about?”

No response. Just more ragged breathing.

“Answer me, Odysseus,” she spat angrily. “Who is this woman you slept with? Why did you choose her over me?”

His eyes widened more, suddenly flicking up to meet hers. “No! No, it’s not like that. She — ”

“What’s going on, Odysseus? What else haven’t you told me? What else are you hiding?”

“Penelope, listen — ” He paused, choking a little as tears formed in his eyes. “I tried to stop her but she — ” Suddenly, he dissolved in tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Oh.

Penelope’s heart dropped. He didn’t choose Calypso over her — no, the reality was much worse.

She stepped closer again. “Ody, it’s okay — ”

“No. No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

Reaching out to touch his face, she repeated, “It’s okay — ”

But he jumped away from her hand like it was the point of a sword.

“Don’t touch me.”

She froze, realizing why he said that. “I’m sorry, Ody — ”

His expression softened. “No. I’m sorry. I — ” his voice caught in his throat as his eyes widened again.

“I have to go,” he said, slowly backing away.

“Odysseus — ”

“I’m so sorry.”

And he turned and sprinted away.

•••

“Odysseus? Ody, where are you? Odysseus!”

Penelope ran through the halls, almost tripping and cursing at her dress for being so long. She called her husband’s name over and over again, worry blossoming in her heart like a poisonous flower.

She checked the gardens. Nothing.

She checked the main hall. Nobody in sight.

She checked the courtyard. Completely empty.

Where was he?

Realization struck her — there was only one place left.

Panting, she knocked on the bedroom door. “Ody? Ody, it’s me, are you in there?”

No response. She was about to knock again but then —

Sniffle.

Her heart felt like it had been ripped into pieces. Just that one sound made her knees feel week. Odysseus was crying — because of her. Because she decided to do the one thing that made him uncomfortable — touch him.

Although, she thought, Odysseus had never acted like this before. If anything, they both loved curling up on that wedding bed of theirs and losing themselves in love. It made them feel … intertwined. Not just their limbs. But their hearts. Their souls. Like two olive bushes — one tame, one wild — growing from the same stem with their branches wound together so tightly that nothing, not even the wind or rain, could pass through.

Now, it felt as if someone was hacking at the wild branch with an axe, trying to cut him off from his stem and pry him away against his will. That someone was Calypso.

Or maybe — Penelope dreadfully thought — it was herself.

Either way, she could not let him feel like that any longer. She opened the door, stepping inside.

“Ody?”

Another sniffle.

She gently closed the door, then followed the sound to behind the bed. Curled up in a corner was the king of Ithaca — shaking, sobbing, choking on his breath with his head against the wall and knees tucked into his chest.

“Odysseus.”

A pained groan escaped his throat as he winced. His eyes were shut tight, his skin dripping with sweat and tears.

Her gut twisted. What was happening to him? “Odysseus. Ody, wake up. Please.”

“Enough, goddess,” he croaked quietly. “Please.”

“What — Odysseus, it’s me —”

“No!” His body twitched as if someone had sent a bolt of lightning through him. His brows furrowed in pain. “You’ve — you’ve hurt me enough. No more — no more games. Please, I beg of you.”

“Odysseus! Please! Wake up!” she cried, crouching down and desperately taking his face in her hands. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, clouding her vision. What must he have gone through to get this upset?

His eyes still squeezed shut, he jumped away from her touch. “Get away from me!” he yelled. “Please — leave me alone. Let me — let me have one peaceful night. One. Please —”

“ODYSSEUS, IT’S ME! It’s Penelope! You’re home, remember? You’re safe. Please, come back to me.” She choked, the tears flowing freely down her face now.

His eyes flew open as he jolted awake. At the sight of her, his breath hitched. “Penelope,” he whispered. “It’s you.”

She nodded, smiling through her tears. “Yes, my love. It’s me. You’re home.”

For a second, he was silent, taking in everything about her — her face, her electric blue eyes, now overflowing with tears. She held his gaze, watching him realize that this was Penelope — his loving wife. She’d never hurt him. Never.

Suddenly, he threw his arms around her, dissolving in tears again. She hugged him back, her fingers combing his sweat-soaked hair as sobs racked his body. She fought the urge to cry with him, knowing that she had to be strong for the both of them if she wanted to help him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear over and over again until he had somewhat calmed down. “You’re okay.”

He waited until the tears stopped flowing, then let go and met her gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Penelope.”

“No, I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I won’t touch you anymore —”

“No!” he exclaimed. “No, please do.” His eyes glinted with longing. “Twenty years I have been starved of your touch. I can’t hold back any longer. I just �� it’ll take some time for — for me to get used to it.”

“Take your time, my love. I’ll be right here by your side.”

He nodded, biting his lip as his eyes moistened again. Burying his face into her shoulder, he sat with her in silence.

After a moment, Penelope spoke. “If you ever want to talk about it —”

He shuddered.

“You don’t have to,” she stammered. “Talk about it, I mean. I know it’s hard. I know you’re hurt. But if you do —”

“No, I do. Just — give me a second.”

“Take your time,” she repeated.

A few seconds passed as he steadied his emotions. Separating himself from the embrace, he took a deep breath. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“It wasn’t just Calypso. Before that … Circe.”

Oh, gods. Penelope felt dizzy.

“But at least I got something out of that. Hermes told me that for her to release my men, I — I had to allow myself into her bed. So I did, reluctantly.” His voice cracked. “It worked. She released my men and sent us on our way to the Underworld. I thought that would be the last of it.”

Penelope started to take his hand in hers, then stopped herself. But Odysseus looked down, then took her hand instead. She smiled at him comfortingly.

“Calypso was a different story.” He swallowed. “After my ship was struck down by Zeus, I washed up on an island. She greeted me, appearing kind at first. She gave me shelter, food, clothing, and company. One day, I told her that I must be on my way. But she —” He hesitated. “She had different plans. ‘I gave you everything I could. It’s time you repay me.’ I agreed. ‘Anything, goddess.’” He paused. “I wish I had known what she had meant.” His voice cracked again as he finally met Penelope’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

She shook her head.

“I'm just a man, Penelope. A mortal. I was no match against this goddess. I’m so sorry. Every night, no matter how hard I resisted, she’d — she'd force me into her bed; every night after … her, I’d lie awake thinking of you — of how I betrayed you, even when you were waiting for me for all these years —” He choked, letting out another sob.

She wrapped her arms around him again as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t, Ody.”

Silence fell again between the two as he composed himself. Penelope spoke again — “This happened … every night?” she whispered.

He slowly nodded into her shoulder.

“For how long?”

No response.

“Ody —”

“Eight years.”

Gods.

Now tears fell from her eyes too as his fingers dug into her back, desperately grasping for her affection. The realization that this — being forced to betray his beloved; not the monsters, the gods, or anything else he faced — was the worst he could have ever suffered.

For eight years. Penelope felt sick.

“I’m so sorry,” he kept saying, but she only shook her head.

Her heart shattered. None of this was his fault; why was he apologizing? And this was nothing like the Odysseus she knew. Odysseus was a hero — strong, brave, and cunning. No, this was … broken. A man who had been through far more than he let on; far more than he deserved.

Even heroes need to be consoled sometimes, she figured.

They sat like that for a while, taking comfort in each other. When they finally parted, they both felt different — healed.

All that was in the past now. They had each other now, as they always would. They were safe. They were home.

They were together. And that’s what mattered.

“Penelope?” Odysseus asked.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

She only smiled.

That night, the two of them fell asleep in each other’s arms — the two olive bushes, intertwined again at last.

Never to be separated again.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Ryomen Sukuna

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Contains Spoilers: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, Redemption Arc, Alternate Endings, Heavy Angst, Mentions of Suicide, Grief, Emotional Neglect, Smut (18+), Pregnancy Loss, Cursed Energy Themes, Love Triangle, Second Chances, Found Family, Protective Sukuna, Tragic Backstories.

Minors DNI. As always, parts marked with {} can be skipped.

A/N: Hi, babes! So, this is the FINAL part of Alt Ending 1. Thank you for sticking with me through the emotional rollercoaster. Up next is Alt Ending 2 (Grovel Arc™), where Nanami and Gojo try to fix their sh*t. Honestly, no man has ever apologized to me properly, let alone grovel, so this is gonna be… interesting to write. 😭 Pray for me. Lastly, I NEED your thoughts: How did the smut go? This was my third attempt at writing it, so be brutal but kind. Oh, and for those worried about Sukuna meeting a woman at the hospital, don’t worry, I got you—mystery solved in this chapter! 👀" Sukuna literally goes feral mid-something in this, so brace yourself.

Chapter 8 (alt ending 1.4) - Fractured Tides (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 9 (alt ending 1.5 Final Part) - The Shadows We Bury

// Playlist

The sea was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. You sat cross-legged on the beach, a blanket draped over your shoulders, while next to you, Sukuna leaned against the low table, arms crossed. The air smelled faintly of rain, the night’s chill biting but bearable.

He was watching you—he always was—but tonight there was something different in his gaze. A weight, an intensity that made your skin prickle despite you watching in the waves in the opposite direction, far from him.

“What?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He didn’t answer immediately, just reached into his pocket with a deliberate slowness that made your chest tighten. When his hand emerged, it held a small, velvet box.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as he opened it, revealing a ring. The diamond shimmered faintly under the city lights, but there was something about it—something that made your stomach flip.

“They’re yours,” Sukuna said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

They are yours.

Those words were engraved in your soul at this point.

“I had the lab make this... from them. Took longer than it should’ve because the idiots didn’t know what they were doing.”

Your hands trembled as you stared at the ring , realization crashing into you like a wave.

“It’s okay if you don’t want this,” he continued, his crimson eyes flicking to yours, cautious but steady. “If you’re not ready, if this feels like too much, I’ll wait. Hell, I’ll wait forever if I have to. But I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you—all of you. And if nothing else... you should keep it. They’re yours, after all.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until your vision blurred, the first tear slipping down your cheek. Sukuna’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Say something,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost pleading.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his shoulder. His arms encircled you instantly, strong and grounding, holding you like you might slip away.

“Ryo,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin.

“I mean it,” he said, his breath warm against your hair. “You don’t have to—”

You cut him off, pulling back just enough to press your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, a whisper of a connection, but it deepened quickly, the raw emotion between you igniting like a spark to dry tinder.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, desperate and unsteady, as if anchoring yourself to him could keep you from drowning in the moment.

When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his, your breaths mingling in the cool night air.

“I’ll keep it,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “And I’ll keep you too, if you’ll allow me.”

His chuckle sounded like relief-wolfish, but his eyes betrayed something softer, something that made your heart ache. “It’s about damn time, princess.”

The weight of the world felt lighter as you leaned into him again, his arms around you and the city lights stretching out before you.

---

// Playlist

Japan

The penthouse was dark, the blinds drawn tightly enough to block out the world. The faint glow of the city seeped in through the edges, casting jagged patterns on the floor. Gojo sat against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, the bottle of sake dangling from his fingers. The liquid inside sloshed lazily, mirroring the emptiness in his chest. His gaze drifted toward the mirror across the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. The last time he had, he’d seen your tear-streaked face, heard your muffled sobs echoing in his mind.

His six eyes still flickered with phantom images—the twisted forms of the children who never had a chance. Every blink brought them back: the boy’s elongated limbs, the girl’s fused fingers, the shared split-colored hair. His hands shook, the bottle slipping slightly before he tightened his grip.

Across the room, Nanami stood by the window, his shirt wrinkled—a stark contrast to the man he used to be. His reflection stared back, gaunt and lifeless, a stranger wearing his face. He hadn’t slept in days, his mind too loud and unforgiving, hadn’t eaten in days, and the tremor in his hands betrayed the toll his guilt was taking.

“Do you ever stop seeing them?” Gojo’s voice was barely audible, the words slurred and heavy.

Nanami didn’t answer immediately, his hand pressing against the cold glass. “No,” he said finally, his voice brittle. “I see them every time I close my eyes.”

Gojo let out a bitter laugh, hollow and broken. “Figures.” He raised the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig. The alcohol burned, but it wasn’t enough to drown the ache in his chest.

//

Later that night, Nanami found himself on the rooftop. The wind bit at his skin, sharp and cold, but he barely noticed. The city sprawled out before him, a sea of lights that felt impossibly distant.

I was supposed to protect her , he thought to himself. I was supposed to be better than this. Better than those creatures we gave her.

He gripped the railing, the steel cold under his palms. The height didn’t scare him. Nothing did anymore. The thought crept in again, unbidden and relentless. 

One step. Just one step, and it’s over.

Behind him, the door slid open. Gojo stepped out, his hair disheveled, his shirt hanging off his frame like it belonged to someone else. He didn’t say anything as he walked over, leaning against the railing beside Nanami.

“You thinking about it?” Gojo asked, his voice devoid.

Nanami’s grip on the railing tightened. “Every day.” He answered; Gojo was probably asking about his first thought, not the second one.

Gojo nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Yeah. Me too.”

Then, without preamble, he pulled out his phone as it buzzed with an incoming text, the screen glowing in the dim light.

“Sukuna wants to talk,” Gojo said, his voice low. He held the phone out toward Nanami, his expression unreadable.

Nanami’s brow furrowed as he hesitated.

Gojo dialed him back immediately, “It could be about her.”

The name went unspoken, but it was enough. There had never been anyone else, and there never would be, except you.

Nanami’s grip on the railing tightened before he stepped back, taking the phone. He pressed the speaker, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

“Stop trying to reach her,” Sukuna’s voice came through, unforgiving. “Stop pretending you’re regretful. You failed her. Both of you did. She doesn’t need your guilt, and she doesn’t need you.”

Nanami’s jaw clenched. “How is she?”

“Alive,” Sukuna replied, his tone casual, mocking. “Happier than she’s been in years. And she’s staying that way. You two will stay out of her life.”

Nanami’s shoulders sagged, the words hitting harder than he expected. He glanced at Gojo, who was staring at the phone with no expression, unable to think or speak.

Gojo leaned forward, his hands trembling. “Can we—”

“No,” Sukuna interrupted, his voice cold. “You can’t fix this. You can’t fix her. You don’t deserve to.”

Before he could respond, a faint sound filtered through the call. Laughter. Your laughter. Nanami’s breath hitched, his chest tightening painfully. Sukuna hadn’t hung up. He was letting them hear. You probably didn’t know.

“Hey!” Your voice came through, light and unguarded. “Guess what I remembered today? A ridiculous song I used to love.”

There was a rustling sound as you continued talking; they couldn’t hear what you were saying; they heard the next parts loud and clear.

“You’re mine,” Sukuna’s voice came next, low and possessive. “I’ll never share you with anyone.”

Your laughter bubbled up, unrestrained and genuine. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gojo’s grip on the phone tightened, his jaw clenching as he heard you hum a tune, your voice carrying a joy that had been absent when you were with them. The silence stretched as he listened, the pain evident in his eyes.

Nanami watched Gojo, the tension between them unspoken but palpable. The call was still live, but neither could bring themselves to speak. Sukuna’s voice cut through again, smooth and calculated, as you left.

“You hear that?” Sukuna’s tone was dripping with amusement. “She’s happy now. You both should’ve let her go sooner; she wouldn’t have had to go through that cursed pregnancy. You must have seen the reports. She stopped talking for months.”

Gojo’s eyes closed, his breath shaky as he muttered, “You’re hiding this from her. She doesn’t know we’re listening.”

“Of course not,” Sukuna replied, almost lazily. “Why would I let her see the people who broke her? Unlike you, I don’t hurt the people I care about.”

“You sent the reports?!” Nanami asked, frowning.

“Of course I did. You were spared because I was there in the hospital. I actually saw. Both of you deserved to carry the cursed knowledge of what you did to her.” Sukuna said, jaw tightening.

“Thank you for letting us know.” Nanami said, despite everything. They would have liked to know under any circumstance.

“Whatever, the last favor I will do is send you their remaining ashes. And you will stay away, or I’ll kill you. Capisce?” Sukuna challenged.

“Fine.” Nanami spoke after a beat too long.

Sukuna finally ended the call. For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the city below, indifferent to the wreckage above.

Then he turned away, his hands curling into fists. The rooftop seemed smaller, the air heavier.

“She’s better off without us,” Nanami said finally, his voice hollow.

Gojo didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

There was nothing left to say.

---

Far away, you sat in Sukuna’s lap with your head on his chest, sipping a glass of wine as you sang the tune you’d remembered. Sukuna’s hand rested on your waist, his smirk softening into something almost tender. He watched you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“You’re happy,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you.

You nodded, your smile radiant. “Yeah. I am.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his smirk sharp but softened by something deeper. In his pocket, your old phone sat buried, silenced forever.

Sukuna wouldn’t let the past touch you again. Not Gojo, not Nanami, not even the truth. Because for the first time, you were free—and he’d burn the world to keep it that way.

You looked up at him as his crimson eyes held a fierce intensity, drawing you into a world where darkness and allure intertwined, awakening a sense of danger and exhilaration. In that moment, you felt both vulnerable and alive, caught in the intoxicating dance of Sukuna's presence.

{Without much thought, you kissed him, nipping at his lower lip.

He lowly growled in response, sending heat pooling in your stomach, and before you could think, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist.

The world blurred as he carried you to the bed, his movements deliberate and unhurried. 

He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands firm on your hips as he carried you effortlessly into the room. Both wine glasses clattered somewhere on the floor outside, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips moved against yours with a hungry, almost desperate fervor.

Your back pressed against the wall, your breaths shallow as his hands gripped your waist, firm but reverent. His body heat radiated through your clothes, and the faint scent of his cologne—spicy, dark, and utterly intoxicating—wrapped around you like a second skin.

“Still sure about this, princess?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, thick with restraint.

You nodded, your eyes meeting his, your hands sliding down his chest to grip the hem of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, pulling him closer until your lips were a breath away from his. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you as his mouth claimed yours, the kiss deep and unrelenting. His lips moved against yours with a skill that made your knees weak, coaxing soft gasps from you as his hands roamed, tracing the curve of your hips and the small of your back.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as you tried to anchor yourself in the storm of sensation. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, the warm light painting his sharp features with a golden hue.

His hands moved with purpose, tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your thigh, the hollow of your neck. Every touch was deliberate, reverent, as though he were memorizing every inch of you. When his thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze softened, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the intensity, so rare it made your breath hitch.

The world blurred as Sukuna moved with you into his arms, his movements unhurried but filled with intent. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, as though you might shatter under anything less. Hovering over you, his lips trailed from your jaw to the tender spot below your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. The scrape of his teeth made you arch into him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“Bewitching,” he murmured, the word low and reverent as his hands slid beneath your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. His crimson eyes darkened, hunger and awe warring in his expression as he took in the sight of you.

Your fingers worked at his shirt, fumbling in your urgency to push it off his broad shoulders. The fabric fell away, revealing the intricate tattoos that wound across his chest and arms, their lines shifting subtly in the dim light. Your fingers traced their paths, marveling at the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His breath hitched, the sound low and guttural, as you explored the hard planes of his body.

His lips found the hollow of your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The faint graze of his teeth sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you. His name slipped from your lips, breathless and soft, spurring him on.

Sukuna’s kisses trailed lower, his mouth mapping your body with an intensity that left you spinning. When his teeth grazed the edge of your bra, you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Patience, princess,” he teased, his voice rough, but his smirk betrayed his own restraint. His hands found the clasp of your bra, undoing it with practiced ease. The garment slipped away, leaving you bare to the cool air and his heated gaze.

His lips returned to your skin, tracing the curve of your breast. His hand squeezed gently, his touch firm, as his mouth followed, lips closing around your nipple. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands.

He groaned, a deep, resonant sound that sent heat pooling low in your belly. His fingers traced the line of your throat, their touch impossibly gentle despite the fire burning in his gaze.

Your back arched into him, his mouth and hands working in tandem to draw sounds from you that you didn’t know you were capable of making. His tongue and teeth teased you relentlessly, each movement precise and devastating. For a fleeting moment, jealousy flared at the thought of anyone who had experienced this before you, but it evaporated as quickly as it came.

You were too close, too lost in him, your body trembling on the edge of release.

Sukuna pulled back, just enough to meet your gaze. His crimson eyes burned, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

Dammit, the fucker knew what he was doing.

This was insurance for Sukuna, not that he needed it.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was brutal, his tongue invading your mouth with a possessive fervor that left you gasping. His large frame, his strength, overwhelmed you, and yet you found yourself leaning into it, craving more.

He made quick work of your shorts and panties, discarding them in a single motion. Before you could process the loss of contact, one of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. His free hand moved with precision, and suddenly, a second mouth materialized on his palm.

Your eyes widened, your breath catching, but the memory of his earlier teasing about his extra limbs calmed you.

“Relax,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of amusement and command.

The mouth below moved, its tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line up your slit. The sensation was overwhelming, a shock of pleasure that made your body arch into him. Sukuna’s lips never left yours, his kiss fervent and unrelenting, muffling the moans spilling from your throat.

The tongue below was relentless, its movements brutal in their precision. It licked and sucked, the pressure perfectly calibrated to drive you to the brink. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as your body trembled beneath him.

Your vision blurred, your senses narrowing to nothing but the feel of him—the heat of his mouth, the strength of his hands, the intensity of his presence. He devoured you, body and soul, leaving no part of you untouched, no desire unfulfilled.

Then, without warning, he curled one long finger, then a second, and slid them inside you with a deliberate slowness. The stretch made you gasp, your body arching instinctively into his touch. His right arm gripped yours, holding you in place as his fingers began to scissor inside you, exploring and opening you with an expertise that had your breath catching while simultaneously his other mouth continued suck your clit.

It felt like you were being sucked and fucked at the same time.

Your body betrayed you almost immediately, writhing and trembling under his relentless attention. It had been so long since you’d felt this—since anyone had touched you like this—and the pleasure hit you like a wave, fast and unrelenting.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. The way his biceps flexed as he worked you open, the faint clench of his jaw as he focused entirely on you—it was intoxicating.

“Ryo—” you choked out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, pulling a cry from your lips.

But he didn’t stop.

His fingers continued their relentless pace, his palm-mouth sucking harder as if determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from you. The overstimulation made you thrash, your hands grabbing desperately at his hair, pulling harder than you intended. He groaned against you, the sound low and guttural, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers added a third.

The stretch was exquisite, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. You screamed his name, tears stinging your eyes as he pushed you into another orgasm almost immediately. Your body shuddered beneath him, your nails dragging across his scalp as you held onto him for dear life.

He groaned, his voice heavy with satisfaction as he felt you fall apart again and again beneath him. “Good girl,” he murmured, his tone rough but tinged with pride.

And he didn’t stop.

By the time he coaxed the fourth orgasm from you, you were a mess beneath him—your body trembling, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. His smirk grew with every shudder, every broken sound you made, his crimson eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction.

“Ryo, please,” you finally cried out, your voice shaky and desperate.

His palm-mouth withdrew, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat he’d left behind. His gaze burned into you, feral and unrelenting, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. 

You didn’t hesitate, your hands fumbling to undo his belt. He helped you, his movements quick but controlled, until his pants and boxers were gone, and he stood before you in all his glory.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was huge, his cock thick and heavy, perfectly complementing his frame. The sight made your mouth water and sent a pang of nervous anticipation through you.

Tentatively, you reached out, your hand wrapping around his length. His breath hitched, his chest heaving as you began to stroke him slowly.

Your confidence grew as his breathing quickened, his head tipping back slightly, his eyes glinting with barely restrained hunger. You cupped his heavy balls with your other hand, rolling them gently as you increased the pressure on his shaft. A groan rumbled from deep in his chest, his eyes fluttering shut as he gave himself over to the sensation.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice strained. He caught your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed with a force that left you breathless.

You smiled smugly at him. Two could play this game.

The sound of the condom tearing was quick, his movements inhumanly fast as he rolled it on. He lined himself up with your entrance, his gaze meeting yours as he paused.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice softer, a rare moment of restraint.

You nodded, your body already arching toward him.

He pushed in slowly, the stretch making you gasp. The burn was sharp, but the way he peppered your face with kisses, his deep baritone voice murmuring reassurances, made you crave more.

“You’re perfect,” he grunted, his forehead resting against yours.

You gripped his hips, pulling him deeper despite the overwhelming sensation. By the time he was fully seated, you were trembling, the fullness leaving you breathless.

Sukuna stilled, giving you time to adjust, his lips brushing against your wrist in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. When you nodded, he began to move, his pace slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

Your nails raked down his back, drawing a growl from him as his restraint began to slip. His thrusts grew harder, deeper, each one drawing a cry from your lips.

He was unable to control it anymore.

The air shifted as Sukuna leaned back, his smirk turning feral. His tattoos began to glow, spreading across his skin like dark ink as his true form emerged.

You gasped when another set of arms materialized, their strength pinning your hips gently but firmly. Panic flashed through you for a moment, memories of past hurts threatening to surface, your husbands.

“Shh,” Sukuna murmured immediately stilling, his voice soft and grounding. He rested his forehead against yours, his gaze steady. “It’s just me, princess. Just me.”

You nodded for him to continue, your breathing evening out as his lips captured yours again, pulling you back into the moment. The extra hands gripped your hips as you held him closer, their hold unyielding but careful, anchoring you as he thrust deeper, his pace unrelenting.

The stretch, the pressure, the sheer overwhelming sensation—it was too much, and yet not enough. You moaned his name, your body trembling as he drove you higher and higher, his voice and touch grounding you even as he unraveled you completely.

Sukuna’s claws scraped against your skin, the faint sting leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sensation wasn’t frightening; it was exhilarating, a primal rush that left you breathless. When you met his gaze, his four crimson eyes gleamed with a mixture of raw desire and something deeper—reverence.

For a fleeting moment, Sukuna hesitated. His form, larger and more imposing, wasn’t meant for tenderness. He feared you might flinch, might look at him with the same disgust he’d seen in others before. But then you wrapped your arms around him, your hands threading into his hair as you pulled him into a kiss that was all teeth and ferocity.

The message was clear: words would fail you, but your actions wouldn’t. He wasn’t just desired; he was wanted.

Sukuna groaned into the kiss, his claws gripping your hips as his larger body pressed against yours. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with emotion.

His lips claimed yours again, desperate and feral. The weight of him, the sheer power radiating from his form, should have been overwhelming, but it wasn’t. It grounded you, pulling you into the intensity of the moment. Your hands explored the new ridges of his body, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his horns, the rippling muscles beneath his cursed marks.

Your hips bucked against him instinctively, drawing a low, wicked chuckle from his throat. “Needy little thing,” he murmured, his smirk teasing. 

“Take me, princess,” he grunted, his claws gripping your thighs as he thrust deeper.

The intensity grew, Sukuna’s movements becoming less restrained. His hands—now four—worked in perfect unison. One gripped your hips, holding you in place as he thrust into you with a brutal rhythm. Another two cupped your breast, his thumbs flicking over your nipple, while the fourth wrapped gently around your throat, his grip firm but not constricting.

His other mouth reappeared below his Adonis belt, its tongue flicking over your clit with maddening precision. The combined sensations made you arch against him, your nails digging into his shoulders as moans spilled uncontrollably from your lips.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice reverent yet commanding, the words vibrating against your skin.

The air seemed to thrum with energy as Sukuna’s pace quickened, each thrust deeper and more powerful than the last. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

“Ryo I'm going to—please,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your body trembled on the edge.

“Let go,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. “I’ve got you.”

You shattered beneath him, the pleasure consuming you in waves so intense they left you gasping for air. But Sukuna didn’t stop.

He flipped you effortlessly into new positions, his strength and stamina leaving you pliant and trembling. On your back, on your knees, straddling his lap—each time, his thrusts were calculated, his touch both demanding and tender.

By the fifth orgasm on his cock, a few of them ending with you squirting, your body was shaking uncontrollably, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. Sukuna groaned deeply, his grip tightening as he buried himself to the hilt, his growl vibrating through your body as his release followed yours.

The room fell silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths. Sukuna withdrew, his hands moving with care as he disposed of the condom. Then he shifted back into his human form, his arms—still strong but less imposing—wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

His forehead rested against yours, his fingers brushing stray strands of hair from your damp face. “You okay, princess?” he asked softly, his crimson eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, your lips curling into a tired, blissful smile. Words failed you; you were too spent to form a coherent response. But Sukuna’s smirk grew as he watched you, the smug satisfaction in his expression undeniable.

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, soft and unguarded: “I love you, Ryo.”

Sukuna stilled, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as if processing your confession. For a fleeting moment, you thought you’d made a mistake, your chest tightening with uncertainty. But then his smirk softened into something rare, achingly tender. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a gesture so gentle it made your heart ache.

Then he pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to one of careful scrutiny. “As much as I’d like to hear that, I need to know if it’s real,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost hesitant. “Your judgment might be... clouded after that. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way tomorrow.”

His claws stroked through your hair as he studied your face, his crimson eyes searching for something—hope, maybe, or reassurance.

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m sure of it,” you said, your voice steady despite the rawness of the moment. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked onto yours. Then he pulled you closer, his breath fanning across your lips. “I never thought this day would actually come,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You chuckled softly, the tension breaking just enough for warmth to creep in.

His smirk returned, sharp and wolfish. “I love you too, mortal,” he said, the teasing edge in his tone undercut by the sincerity in his eyes. He captured your lips in a kiss so intense it left you breathless, his hands tangling in your hair as if anchoring himself to you.

“If you weren’t about to pass out, I’d fuck you through the night,” he added, his grin turning mischievous.

You laughed, weak but genuine, and nestled closer to him. “You are a succubus.”

“Good for you,” laughing he murmured, his voice warm.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as if the world outside didn’t exist. For a moment, it truly didn’t. It was just the two of you, wrapped in the aftermath of something far more profound than passion. Something real. Something unbreakable.

His touch remained tender, his hands cradling you like you were the most precious thing in his world. For once, there was no need for words; his actions spoke louder than anything he could say.

As the night wore on, he cleaned the two of you, and the intensity softened into a quiet, lingering closeness. Sukuna held you against his chest, his larger form enveloping you protectively. His claws traced lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you. His breath was warm against your hair, and the steady beat of his heart lulled you into a peaceful haze.

For the first time in almost a year, you felt whole—safe, cherished, and utterly loved.

The next morning, however, the beast you’d unleashed made itself known.

Sukuna woke you before dawn, his smirk as sharp as ever. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his hands already wandering.

By the time you were scrambling to get dressed for work, your legs trembling and your voice hoarse, you’d lost count of how many times he’d made you scream his name.

“You’re insatiable,” you muttered, glaring at him as he leaned lazily against the doorframe, shirtless and utterly unbothered.

His laugh was rich, unrepentant.

You were late for your meetings that morning, and Sukuna wore his wolfish grin like a badge of honor.}

---

Japan

// Playlist

Their apartment was as cold as the men who once occupied it. The furniture, meticulously arranged, now felt sterile—lifeless. The whiskey bottles cluttering the kitchen counter told a story of nights spent drowning in regret. Dust coated every surface, a physical manifestation of the neglect that had seeped into every corner of their lives.

Nanami sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets still wrinkled from the last night he’d spent sleepless there.

Your old bed. The one he had ignored you in. The one that bore silent witness to his failures.

His elbows rested on his knees, his broad shoulders hunched forward, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared at the floor, not really seeing it, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the physical world. His hair, once meticulously groomed, was disheveled.

The weight of his thoughts pressed down on him, suffocating. His lips moved, the words barely audible.

“I failed her.”

The room offered no answer. It never did.

His mind drifted back to you—your face, your laughter, the light in your eyes that he had so carelessly extinguished. He had failed you—his wife. You had been overlooked, neglected, and trapped in a marriage where their loyalty had wavered. His nights tangled with Gojo had driven a wedge too deep to repair. 

You had begged him, hadn’t you? Pleaded with him to see you, to acknowledge you, to love you. But he hadn’t. He’d been too consumed by his own desires, too blinded by the illusion of control.

He had known you deserved better, but when you walked away, he hadn’t chased you; he hadn’t even realized you left after weeks.

And then there were the twins—his and Gojo’s. He hadn’t even noticed the cursed energy signatures you carried and hadn’t paid attention to the life growing inside you. Gojo had been his gravity, pulling him into an orbit that left you forgotten.

The miscarriage had been the final blow, a tragedy that shattered the fragile remnants of what once was. The hollowness inside him grew unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them—the grotesque, malformed fetuses, twisted by the very cursed energy that had created them. The image was seared into his mind. Those fetuses weren’t children—elongated limbs, twisted spines, faces that seemed to accuse him even in death. They weren’t children. They were an abomination, a reflection of the sin that had consumed him. He couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you, for the pain he had inflicted in the haze of lust and neglect.

His breath hitched as he remembered your last gaze. The fear, the disgust—it had been etched so deeply into your features that he couldn’t forget it even if he tried. You had looked at him as though he were a monster, and maybe you were right.

Nanami’s hand reached for the blade on the nightstand, its edge glinting faintly in the dim light. It was the same blade he had wielded as a grade one sorcerer, a tool that had once been an extension of himself. He hadn’t used it in years, not after becoming a special grade, but tonight, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

He ran his thumb along the edge, the sensation grounding him in a way nothing else could.

A solution to the endless loop of failure and regret that played in his mind.

The silence in the apartment deepened, wrapping around him like a shroud. He thought of you, far away, happy in a life he no longer had a right to touch. He thought of Gojo, somewhere out there, probably drinking himself into oblivion. He would likely bounce back to his usual obnoxious self once his suspension would be removed and he’d be back with his students.

He thought of the twins.

This wasn’t a risk. His life had always been a series of moves, risks weighed and measured, but this—this was certainty.

His breath was steady. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. This was the only way to silence the ghosts, to end the endless loop of failure and regret.

As the blade fell, so did he—into the stillness that had always eluded him in life.

---

// Playlist

Gojo arrived hours later, the front door slamming shut with a loud thud as he chucked his shoes away and drunkenly called out for Nanami. But when he didn’t get a response. His six eyes immediately took in the scene: empty bottles scattered across the floor and the stark red contrast of blood staining everything in its path. The red so vivid it burned into his retinas.

“No,” he whispered, the word barely audible, breaking like glass in his throat. His heart dropped as his feet carried him forward towards the bedroom.

The ground beneath him felt unstable, as if it might crumble and drag him into the abyss waiting just beyond his senses.

Nanami lay on the bed, lifeless. His cursed blade was still clutched in his hand, a cruel mockery of the strength that had once defined him. Even in his final moments, Nanami had been methodical.

Gojo dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hands trembling as they reached for Nanami’s face. His fingers hovered just above the skin, unable to make contact, as though touching him would confirm the unbearable truth.

“Kento,” he croaked, his voice cracking. “No. No, no, no—what did you do?”

Nanami’s skin was cold, devoid of the warmth that had always been his anchor.

Tears blurred his vision, but his six eyes betrayed him, sharpening every agonizing detail: the slackness of Nanami’s jaw, the pallor of his once-warm skin, the faint streaks of dried tears on his cheeks.

Gojo pressed his forehead against Nanami’s, his body wracked with sobs. “You were supposed to stay,” he choked out, his voice breaking like glass. “We were supposed to figure this out. Together.”

The silence mocked him, louder than any scream could have been.

His cursed energy flared uncontrollably, crackling like a storm that had lost its anchor. The room trembled under the weight of his despair. Mirrors shattered, furniture splintered, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with the force of his anguish.

But none of it mattered.

“You promised,” he muttered, his voice raw and broken. “You said you wouldn’t leave. You said you’d stay.”

He didn’t know who he was pleading with—Nanami, himself, the universe—but the words spilled out, jagged and desperate.

“You were supposed to stay,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “You were all I had left. You promised.”

Gojo had lost everything. Suguru, his best friend and the only person who had ever understood him completely, had been the first to leave. His departure ripping a hole in Gojo’s heart that had never truly healed.

Then you—his wife, his home—had walked away, pushed to the edge by his arrogance and neglect. He’d been too wrapped up in his own chaos, too blind to see the damage until it was too late.

The twins came next—his fragile, desperate hope. They had been taken before they could even take a breath, their twisted forms a cruel reminder of his hubris. He had destroyed them before they had a chance to live.

And now, Nanami.

The one person who had endured it all. The one person who had stayed. The one person who had endured his flaws, his chaos, his failures—who had held him together when he couldn’t do it himself. The one person Gojo had trusted to never leave him. Gone.

He staggered to his feet, his body trembling like a brittle structure on the verge of collapse. The air thick with the scent of blood and regret. Stumbling out, he didn’t know where he was going, only that he couldn’t stay.

The city swallowed him, its noise and vibrancy an unbearable contrast to the void inside him. He wandered aimlessly, his vision unfocused, his feet dragging him forward without direction.

The streets were alive with chatter and laughter, the kind of mundane joy that had long since become foreign to him. He hated it. Hated how the world kept turning, indifferent to the wreckage of his life.

He stopped in the middle of a crosswalk, cars honking and lights flashing as the chaos of the city surged around him. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru felt utterly, completely powerless.

The strongest sorcerer, brought to his knees by the weight of his own failures.

He whispered your name, barely audible above the din, as if calling out to you might anchor him. But there was no answer. There never would be.

And as the world moved on without him, Gojo stood frozen, a man who had lost everything.

He took a split-second decision to go around Tokyo or its nearby areas—as far as his body would allow—and kill as many curses as possible in one night, but as he ran, the hollow ache, the insufferable pain, grew.

The streets of Tokyo were getting more and more restless, pulsing with the life of a city that never stopped, never cared. Gojo moved through them like a phantom, his body a blur, his six eyes scanning for curses. He wasn’t hunting them out of duty, nor out of anger. This was something else—something desperate, something final.

His cursed energy crackled around him, unstable and feral. Each exorcism was brutal, accurate, and devoid of the flair that had once defined him. He didn’t toy with the curses, didn’t smirk or taunt. He simply destroyed, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

The hollow ache in his chest deepened with every step, every swing of his cursed energy. The pain wasn’t physical; it was a void, vast and insatiable, devouring him from the inside out.

By the time the sky had an hour to lighten, he had crossed half the city, his legs heavy and his cursed energy flickering like a dying flame. He had done what he set out to do. And yet, the ache persisted, gnawing at the edges of his sanity.

Somehow, his aimless wandering brought him back to the rooftop. Their rooftop. Your rooftop.

The wind howled, whipping against his face with a biting chill, but it didn’t numb the pain. Nothing did. He stood at the edge, his silhouette stark against the approaching twilight. Below, the city bustled, oblivious to the man standing on the precipice of existence.

Gojo lowered himself onto the edge, his legs dangling over the side. The movements were slow, like he was savoring the weight of his own body, the solidity of the world beneath him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, the act almost ritualistic now.

The flame from his lighter flickered in the wind, but he shielded it with his hand, lighting the cigarette. The first drag burned, the smoke searing his lungs and grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“Guess you got tired of my bullshit too, huh, Nanamin?” He muttered, his voice rough and tinged with bitter humor. The words hung in the air, unanswered, as the city buzzed far below. How would a deadbody answer him lying in his own house?

He exhaled, the smoke curling upward and dissolving into the vast expanse of the night.

The rooftop began to tremble, subtle at first, then more violently as his cursed energy spiraled out of control. Cracks formed beneath him, spiderwebbing across the concrete as the air around him grew thick with pressure.

Gojo extended his hand, summoning a miniature Limitless Void. The black orb hovered above his palm, expanding slowly, its presence suffocating and absolute. The edges of reality bent around it, the weight of infinity pressing against the fragile fabric of existence.

For the first time, he welcomed the crushing stillness.

He leaned back, his head tilting toward the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible against the encroaching light of twilight sun—the sun you had once said he was. His six eyes shimmered, their brilliance dimmed but still hauntingly beautiful.

“See you on the other side, Nanamin,” he whispered, the words soft but resolute.

His eyes fluttered closed as he let the void consume him, the weight of his burden finally lifting.

By the time the sun rose, the rooftop was silent. The first rays of light crept over the city, illuminating the faint scorch marks where Gojo Satoru’s lifeless body lay.

The air was still, the remnants of his cursed energy lingering like an echo. The city below carried on, its rhythm unbroken, oblivious to the loss of the strongest sorcerer.

There were no witnesses, no grand farewells. Just the quiet, empty rooftop and the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.

And as the sun climbed higher, the world moved forward, leaving behind the man who had once carried it on his shoulders.

---

A few years later, the bustling streets of Tokyo felt foreign now, though they had once been your home. Each corner carried ghosts of a life you had long buried, fragments of memories too sharp to touch.

This trip wasn’t planned—it was a last-minute necessity. You needed to retrieve your signed divorce papers to legally marry Sukuna. You’d hesitated to return, the thought of facing the past like a jagged blade pressing against your skin, but Sukuna had insisted he’d tag along.

“Can’t let you face this place alone, princess,” he’d said, his smirk softer than usual, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the monster.

The courthouse smelled like old paper and regret, the kind of place where lives were signed away with a flick of a pen. You sorted through stacks of paperwork, your hands steady, your heart a fortress. Then, a familiar voice pierced the quiet.

“It’s tragic, really,” said the lawyer, an old man who had once been on retainer for Gojo’s family to handle the endless property damage claims Gojo racked up. His tone was heavy with the practiced sympathy of someone who dealt in human misery daily. “What happened to Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento? They—well, you must know. It was all over the news back then.”

You froze, the papers slipping from your hands and scattering across the desk. His words hung in the air, suffocating.

“No,” you said, your voice devoid of emotion, as though speaking through a layer of glass. “I don’t know.”

The lawyer’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “You didn’t hear? They… they took their own lives. Together. It was years ago.”

“Ma’am?” A voice behind you called out.

You turned to find one of the witnesses to your wedding with the dead men.

“Hello Ino. You can call me by my name.”

“Umm ya. I was here to get my license back after racking up a few tickets. Gojo San killed all the curses and curse users in one night around Tokyo that day before… But ahh.. I got this a few days after... you know the day... in my mail along with instructions to cremate them with the twins. I flowed their ashes in Tokyo Bay, and I didn’t know where you were, so I have been caring it around ever since.” He said, nervously handing you an envelope.

The room tilted, the fluorescent lights above flickering like a dying heartbeat. You bent to pick up the fallen papers; your movements were mechanical, detached.

You took the letter and kept it. You didn’t care about reading it; you just didn’t want Ino to carry its burden.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice clipped, as though thanking both men for telling you the time instead of ripping open a wound you thought had long been scarred over.

Outside, Sukuna leaned against the car, smoking with Choso. Yuji sat in the backseat, watching some brightly colored anime on his phone, the laughter from the tiny screen a cruel juxtaposition to the hollow ringing in your ears.

“Done already?” Sukuna asked, straightening up as he and Choso flicked their cigarettes.

Sukuna leaned in to press a kiss to your temple as he guided you towards the passenger door, his crimson eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah,” you replied, slipping into the passenger seat, your expression unreadable.

Once he got in the driver's side while Choso hung in the back with Yuji, Sukuna’s gaze lingered, his intuition catching the faint tension in your shoulders, the tightness in your jaw. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, turning to look out the window.

And you were. There was no ache in your chest, no tears burning at the corners of your eyes. The news was a fact, a statistic, nothing more.

“They’re gone,” you whispered to yourself, the words as weightless as the ashes Sukuna had flicked into the wind.

Sukuna didn’t press, his silence offering comfort words never could. He just drove, his hand briefly brushing against yours on the console, steady and unyielding as ever.

That night, as you lay in your bed back in the Seychelles, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside, you thought about them for the first time in years. The memories came unbidden, like waves lapping at a shoreline long abandoned.

You remembered the nights you spent with them, wrapped in the illusion of love and stability, the promises whispered between breaths, the warmth of their hands on your skin. And then you remembered the way they looked at each other, their gazes, a language you were never fluent in, the moments when you became invisible, a shadow in your own marriage.

The twins—your twins, theirs—had been your breaking point. The miscarriage had gutted you, left you hollow and raw, and they hadn't offered anything but their own grief, twisted and selfish when the most powerful sorcerers should have been the first to know of their children in your womb. They hadn’t even noticed you fading; the light in your eyes extinguished. They had been too caught in their orbit, too consumed by each other, to see you drowning.

And when you finally begged them, they didn’t care. Nanami’s stoic silence had been a knife to your chest, and Gojo’s arrogant laughter, masking his disbelief, had been the salt rubbed into the wound.

“They made their choice,” you whispered into the darkness, your voice steady, your heart unmoved.

Sukuna stirred half asleep beside you, his arm pulling you closer to his chest. “What choice?”

You didn’t answer, and he didn’t ask again. His hand rested over your stomach, where life had once flickered and faded, his touch a silent vow that you would never feel that emptiness again.

For the first time in years, you slept without nightmares.

//

“Dada, when will Mama wake up?” Emi’s small voice broke the morning stillness. She clung to Sukuna’s leg, her wide, heterochromatic eyes—one the cerulean blue, the other the deep amber—gazing up at him with an innocence that belied her very nature.

“She’s tired, Emi. From the jet lag,” Sukuna replied, his tone conversational as he sliced through vegetables.

“Mama didn’t get nightmares last night,” Kōen chimed in from the counter, where he was perched, slurping instant ramen. His split-colored hair glinted in the morning light, an eerie echo of his parentage. “I sensed it.”

“I sensed it too,” Sukuna affirmed, cracking eggs into the bowl.

Despite his thousand years as a curse, Sukuna had never imagined himself in this role: a father to beings so uniquely terrifying. His long existence had been marked by solitude, reflection, and eventually, the decision to end it all—only to be reborn, half-human, half-curse, in his own descendant’s bloodline.

He had tried being a sorcerer again, but the endless cycle of death and corruption left him disillusioned. The weak died; the strong grew drunk on power. He had walked away, vowing never to look back.

When Megumi had first arrived looking for you and Sukuna had to leave for a few days, he hadn’t anticipated the call from the hospital. It was the same place where you’d undergone the dilation and curettage after losing the twins. Uraume’s frantic voice still echoed in his ears.

“There’s something happening at that precise hospital. Suicide rates have spiked out of nowhere,” they’d insisted. While the hospital floor manager spammed him every hour.

Reluctantly, Sukuna went. The morgue was cold, sterile, and silent, save for the faint cries echoing from the shadows. His stomach twisted as he stepped closer, his eyes landing on the source of the sound.

Two grotesque forms writhed on the floor. They were the size of newborns, their twisted limbs and split-colored hair an unmistakable resemblance to the children you’d lost. Their cries were hauntingly melodic, a siren song that chilled the air and sent shivers down his spine. They crawled after the hospital staff on their knees, like infants seeking comfort.

They didn’t even acknowledge Sukuna at first.

His chest tightened, an ache spreading through him as he stared at the malformed beings. Slowly, he began to hum. The lullaby—their lullaby. The one he’d made up for them when they were restless, keeping you awake through the night.

The cries softened. Their heads turned toward him, their movements jerky and unnatural.

But they were horrifying to look at. Their forms were wrong, their very existence a violation of nature. Sukuna knew he couldn’t leave them like this.

When Uraume arrived, Sukuna had already made his decision. He moved the twins to a secure location and did the only thing he could think of: he shoved ten of his own fingers down each of their throats. It’s not like his soul would possess them; his soul was reincarnated.

The transformation was immediate. Their twisted forms gave way to soft, perfect skin. The grotesque cries became soft coos. They were no longer curses of suicide; they were infants, whole and complete.

But the relief was short-lived.

As Sukuna studied their energy, the truth became clear. These children were curses of death after their own deaths. Any non sorcerer who saw them—truly saw them—would die within sixty seconds. Only the dying could perceive them safely.

Bringing them to you was out of the question. Letting you know could result in you doing reckless things in order to see them, and Sukuna would not let that happen. The kids understood this as they grew, their burden weighing heavy on their small shoulders. Sukuna, Uraume, Choso, and Yuji became their guardians, raising them in secrecy. The twins adored you, but they could only watch from the shadows, unable to interact directly.

It seemed they had inherited their fathers’ burdens. But they didn’t have a hand in their death; they had been with Sukuna at the time. That was all their fathers’ own doings.

They were special grades unlike anything the world had ever seen, their cursed energy carrying traces of Gojo, Nanami, and Sukuna himself because of his cursed fingers. At just four years old, they had not one Domain Expansion, but three—one from each of their fathers, with the potential to develop more. Even Gojo and Sukuna didn’t know what the fuck domain expansion was at that age.

Sukuna’s thoughts broke as he heard you stir in the bedroom, the sound of the sheets shifting pulling him back to the present.

He turned to the twins, who were now perched on the couch, waiting for his instructions. Their mismatched eyes glinted with curiosity, though they didn’t speak.

“Time for school,” Sukuna said, his voice firm but gentle. “Choso’s waiting downstairs. Don’t make him yell.”

The twins scrambled off the couch, each hugging one of Sukuna’s legs before running out the door. Their laughter echoed down the hall as Choso’s exasperated voice rang out, “Don’t run! You’ll trip and break something!”

Sukuna sighed, shaking his head. They were a handful, but they were his. And he'd do everything to keep them safe, not that they needed it.

As he turned back to the kitchen to finish the omurice, he couldn’t help but glance toward the bedroom, where you were beginning to wake. For all the burdens he carried, the sight of you—alive and at peace—was enough to keep him moving forward.

----

It was folded so carefully that it seemed Nanami believed its neatness could shield you from the chaos within. The scent of aged paper filled the room. It's ink was slightly smudged, as if tears had fallen on it during its writing.

The words stared back at you, raw and unpolished, unlike Nanami’s usual precision.

To the woman I failed to deserve,

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. Maybe I’ll find the courage to send it; maybe it’ll stay buried here with everything else I couldn’t say aloud.

If you’re reading this, I wasn’t strong enough to say it aloud. I always thought there would be more time—more moments to make things right, to fix what I broke. But time has a way of slipping through your fingers when you need it most.

I don’t even know where to begin. How do you apologize for a crime so immense it feels woven into your very being? How do I tell you that every breath I take now feels stolen from someone better, someone who wouldn’t have left you alone in the dark?

When we started this, I thought I could give you everything you deserved. Stability. Love. A partner who would always stand by your side. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of you. I let myself get caught in the orbit of something I thought I needed, and I let you drift further and further away.

I should’ve seen you.

Every day, I should’ve noticed the way your shoulders carried a weight too heavy for one person. I should’ve seen the way your eyes dimmed as you fought to hold yourself together. Instead, I turned away, selfishly clinging to the things that made me feel whole, even as they shattered you.

I let you carry us. And when you couldn’t anymore, I let you go.

The twins…

God, I can’t stop thinking about them. I dream about them every night. They’re always there, reaching for me, crying out, extending their tiny hands... but I can’t hold them. I can’t even touch them. They never had the chance to exist outside of you. It’s like the universe is punishing me for daring to believe I could be their father.

You carried them, even when it tore you apart, because you loved them in ways I never gave you the space to love me. And when you lost them—when we lost them—I wasn’t there to hold you. I wasn’t there to take even a fraction of that pain. I can never forgive myself for that.

I wasn’t there.

You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. But I also know that strength comes at a cost. I see it now—the toll it’s taken on you, on your heart.

If I could rewrite the story, I’d choose you every time. Not out of obligation, but because you were always the one. You were the constant, the one who made everything else bearable.

You deserved someone who could’ve seen the warning signs, someone who would’ve been by your side before the storm hit. Instead, you got me—a man so consumed by his own failures he didn’t notice yours until it was too late.

And now, I’m left with nothing but this: words on a page you likely will never read. Words that will never be enough to undo the damage.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this, why I’m making you carry this too. But the truth is, I can’t leave this world without telling you the one thing I was too much of a coward to say before:

You were my salvation.

Every smile, every glance, every moment you gave me—those were the only times I felt like I was worth something. But I wasn’t. I see that now. I wasn’t enough for you, and I wasn’t enough for them.

You were my lighthouse in a storm I couldn’t escape, and I turned away.

I’m not asking for forgiveness—I don’t deserve it. But if you can find it in your heart, I hope you can find peace. Not for me, not for Gojo, but for yourself.

You deserve a life without shadows. A life where you can breathe freely again.

You deserve love. You deserve someone who will see you for the incredible, breathtaking force of nature you are.

Sukuna deserves you. From the only time I met him, I knew he would do anything to keep you safe. He looked at you the way Gojo and I used to look at you. Maybe he will keep you safer than we ever did. And even if he doesn’t, I hope you are happy and protected wherever you go. I hope you and Megumi become friends again.

I love you. I’ve always loved you.

I’ll never be able to stop loving you.

Even now, even when I’ve become the very thing I feared most—another ghost haunting your life.

Goodbye, my love,

Always your Ken

A/N: AND THAT’S A WRAP ON ALT ENDING 1! I’m sobbing; how about you? Let’s unpack: I’m already bracing myself for Alt Ending 2. Y’all wanted groveling Gojo and Nanami, so it’s coming. And by ‘coming,’ I mean give me a few days because writing men who actually apologize is harder than exorcising curses. I know Sukuna kind of dominated this fic (pun intended). Confession time: I used to LOATHE Sukuna, but after reading Bloody Inheritance by the legend @@sadistic-kiss, I am now officially a Sukuna apologist. Like, who gave him the right?? If you’re in a Sukuna hangover after this (like me), I HIGHLY recommend it. But please, for the love of cursed energy, read it's trigger warnings first. Okay, I NEED your thoughts on three things: How was the smut? Be honest but gentle—this was my third attempt, and I’m sweating. Did Sukuna as "Daddy Sukuna™" hit as hard for you as it did for me? The hospital floor manager mystery is solved in this chapter. Satisfied? Or do y’all still think I rushed it? 👀 Also, let’s talk about the playlist. What’s your favorite song to cry to while reading this? Asking for research purposes. 👀" P.S. If this chapter emotionally destroyed you, comment so we can cry together. 💔 Let’s make AO3 and Tumblr our group therapy session.

Next Chapter will be out in 2-3 Days.

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz

Taglist Open - If I missed to tag anyone, please remind me.

[mikimakiboo]

Happier Somewhere Else

It's been a while since I wrote some Nightmare angst :)

Thankfully @somegrumpynerd posted a wonderful thought that gave me a boost of inspiration :D ( surprise surprise hope you enjoy :) )

Tw: some self hatred, mention of past bullying, slight abandonment issue, basically just Nightmare badly needing therapy and having a bad time™

- What would you like to do ?

Nightmare asked as Killer turned to look at him, taken aback by the question. His boss rarely asked him about what he would like to do, surely because the determination dripping skeleton always seemed pleased with everything. He was always so enthusiastic about everything Nightmare asked him to do or anywhere he asked him to go, that Nightmare just didn't think Killer would want something else. But his henchman had looked quite... down, lately, he often found him looking through the window, lost in his thoughts, spacing out during dinner or mid conversation, and so he had been worried that he could be longing for something else that Nightmare didn't think of providing, but now that a truce had been established with his brother, it would be easier to satisfy whatever need he had.

Killer thought for a moment, glancing at the window before looking back at Nightmare. Something he wanted to do ? He didn't want to do anything special, but... he did want to go out... did that count as something to do ?

- I... I want to go in the Omega Timeline... to see Color...

Nightmare didn't respond right away, and Killer saw him frown a little, was his answer not what Nightmare expected ? Should he have asked to watch TV instead ?

Nightmare kept staring at him for a few seconds before realizing that he was waiting for an answer.

- I.. sure, you can.. you can go see him...

He hesitated. Killer smiled, giving him a hug that Nightmare didn't know how to reciprocate, before letting him go and leaving to go to his room.

- I'm gonna pack my bag, I'll be back in five minutes !

Nightmare watched him leave, a feeling that he hadn't felt in years emerged in his soul and he had to take a deep breath to try and suppress it. He looked out the window. It was autumn, his favorite season, he loved watching the trees change color and the leaves falling on the ground, the trees in Dreamtale never did that, his AU had been stucked in a perpetual spring due to the Tree of Feelings. His boys always teased him when he called it autumn instead of fall, they always said he was so fancy and sophisticated.

- Hey, uh.. you're good ?

Nightmare turned, Killer was back with his bag on his shoulder. He looked worried. Nightmare forced a smile.

- Yeah, I'm good, I'll take you to the Omega Timeline.

He wrapped a tentacle around Killer's wrist and the two of them dissappear in a puddle, when the reappeared they were in a white void, a spot in the Omega Timeline that was far enough from the city as to not be seen. Nightmare wasn't welcomed here.

Color was already there, Killer must have sent him a message. He looked at Nightmare with suspicion, as he always did, not trusting him near his friend. The black skeleton let go of Killer, watching him run to his friend to hug him full force, his soul radiating happiness and excitation while Nightmare's soul only clenched in his ribcage. When Killer turned around, Nightmare was already gone.

Nightmare reappeared back in the living room, alone, his whole chest burning from the inside. He felt Dust's presence behind him.

- Hey, uh, I saw Killer running out of his room with a bag, you dropped him somewhere ?

- He's.. in the Omega Timeline..

Nightmare answered without turning around. Dust laughed.

- Off being gay with his rainbow boyfriend again ?

Nightmare forced himself to chuckle but he already felt his lips trembling.

- Yeah.. I'll.. be in my office, I have work to do, do not disturb me..

He said before teleporting, leaving Dust in the living room, confused.

He locked the door and went to sit on his chair. What had he done ? Why did he let him go ? Why did he let Killer leave ? Why did he want to leave in the first place ? Wasn't he happy here with them ? He thought he had been happy, he was always so.. so joyful when they were all together... had he been secretly miserable ? So miserable that now that there was a truce he saw his chance to leave ? To go be happy with his friend, like Dust said, because he wasn't truly happy here ? What did Nightmare do wrong, what did he not see, for Killer to want to leave this soon ?

Nightmare felt terrible, like a giant weight was crushing him and couldn't get up, he could never get up. He had thought that Killer was happy, he truly believed it, but he asked him to leave, and Nightmare hadn't found the strength to tell him no, to keep him away from someone who made him smile more then they could ever had. He didn't find the strength to say no, to lock him here and watch him be miserable and knowing he was the cause of his misery. Not again.

He didn't want to be the cause of anybody's misery, not again, not anymore. He had felt so bad, so guilty, each time a villager accused him of causing harm to them or their family. He didn't want to harm anyone, all he wanted was play under the tree with his brother, his brother was always so happy to be with him. He harmed him too. He harmed him each time there was a storm, Dream didn't like thunder, it always made him cry when it was too loud, he was scared. But where did fear come from ? It came from him. From his apples. He knew that if Dream was scared it was because of him, because he guarded those feelings, each time someone felt fear or sadness or despair it was because of him. He knew it. So if Killer was unhappy, it must have been because of him.

His gaze fell on the picture on his desk, a picture taken by Killer, on which there was everyone. They were smiling, Nightmare was in the back, watching them fondly, his boys, his family. He grabbed the frame carefully, holding it with both hands. He loved them so much... were they happy here ? Did they want to go too ? Should he let them go ? He wanted them to be happy, even if it meant they would be far from him...

He sighed, putting the frame back on his desk, he teleported to his room and fell on his bed. Dinner was almost ready, judging by the time, but he wasn't hungry. Horror wouldn't be pleased with him skipping a meal, but he felt like he would throw up if he ate anything. His chest felt too full, ready to explode, he felt like he had something in his throat making his cheeks tingle. He rolled on the other side of his bed, holding a pillow in his arms as his tentacles curled around him in a protective manner. He was breathing faster, louder, his lips were shaking. He felt pathetic. He didn't have the right to cry. He didn't have the right to feel sad that Killer was happy. He should be happy for him ! He should be happy Killer had someone who cared about him ! He should... he should have seen something was wrong... he should have guessed... it wasn't rocket science, he could never make someone happy, that was his brother's role, not his, it had never been his. His role was to make people miserable, and he was good at this job, so good that he himself felt so miserable at that moment.

He didn't find sleep this night, he just kept rolling over and over and over, listening to the others go to bed too. Horror had knocked at his door, informing him that his plate was in the fridge if he was hungry later. He wasn't hungry. He wanted to throw up. He felt disgusted, disgusted of himself for having neglected Killer so much he didn't notice he wasn't happy.

He got out of bed in the morning, later than usual, he felt heavy. He managed to drag himself to the kitchen and sit at the table where the others, minus Killer, were already having breakfast.

- Mornin' Night, want coffee ?

Horror asked, already making some pancakes. Nightmare nodded, not feeling like talking this morning.

- You look down, bad night ?

Cross asked him, worried, Nightmare was usually the first to get up. He nodded again and gave a small smile to Horror when he gave him his mug, sipping on the hot liquid.

He listened to them as they were having their conversation. Did they want to leave too ? Did they have places to go, people to meet, where they would be happier than here ? Did they know Killer wouldn't come back ? Did he already tell them goodbye ?

- You're sure you're okay ?

Dust asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. His hands were shaking on his empty mug. He looked at the hooded skeleton, and the hooded skeleton looked back at him, squinting. Nightmare looked down.

- I'm fine, just.. just thinking about.. about stuff..

He mumbled, not at all convincing, and he knew it. He got up before any of them could ask anything else and teleported back in his office.

Would they also leave him one day ? He couldn't stop thinking about it. Were they unhappy too ? If Killer was unhappy, were they too ? Would he be strong enough to let them go ? Would he be strong enough to get up after their departure ? Would he be strong enough to keep living without them ? Would he live or just exist ? Would they even want to hang out with him from time to time ? To ask how he was doing ? Who would they ask that ? Dream maybe ? How would Dream know ? They haven't spend time with each other for so long... maybe it was time for Nightmare to catch up with his brother ? Maybe it was time he finally did something right in his life ? Something good, instead of making everyone he met feel like a piece of garbage ? Maybe Dream would stay a little... ? At least out of pity... ? He was always so nice, surely he would accept to keep him company from time to time...

His phone buzzed on his desk. Nightmare looked at it, frowning, he rarely received any messages. He grabbed it, unlocking it quickly to see who wanted to contact him. It was Killer.

" You can come pick me up now :D waiting at the usual spot kiss kiss •3• "

Nightmare stared at his screen for a while, reading the message over and over again, until his phone locked itself on its own after being left untouched for too long. He saw his reflection in the black screen. He felt ridiculous. So ridiculous. He wanted to laugh, and he laughed, he laughed at the absurdity of the situation, he laughed until it turned into crying, until he cried and choked on all those tears he was fighting since he dropped Killer in the Omega Timeline, the tears he was fighting in bed, during breakfast, he let his soul pound faster and harder, his chest burn, his throat hurt, and his eye and cheeks sting.

He thought he had lost him, he thought he was gone forever and that he would lose the others too, he had been so scared, and for what ? For nothing. For nothing at all. Killer wanted to come back home, he didn't want to leave, he wanted to come back. He had been so scared, so scared to be alone again, to be this lonely little child again, this little child with no friends, no one to talk to, to play with... a terrified little child who just wanted to love and loved... he didn't want to go back to that, he wanted to stay with his boys, he wanted them to stay with him, they were so precious to him, his whole reason to live, he didn't bear the thought of losing them...

But Killer wasn't gone, they were all still here, all at home, they were with him, and he would make it last as long as possible...

- Hey you sure he got connection in this old ass castle ?

Color asked Killer. They have been waiting for Nightmare for almost an hour when he would usually show up not one minute after Killer sent a message.

- He probably got his head in a book, he's such a bookworm I swear.

Killer chuckled, sitting on him bag, humming happily. How could he not be happy ? He spent the whole day with his best friend and was now going back home to play with his other besties !

He truly couldn't be happier.

[wintersongstress]

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Summary: The first time Simon lays you down beneath him, you wear something special for him.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: Soft Simon™, kissing, foreplay, sweet words of praise, mild smut.

A/N: I wanted to get my feet wet with some headcanons for Simon, since I’ve never written for him before but am planning on writing a multi-chapter fic soon. I like to imagine him very soft and adoring with his girl, so if fluffy mild smut is your thing I hope you enjoy this little scenario where the reader wears nice lingerie for him 😊

❁ — Simon should have known that your first time together, when he lifted the last layer of clothing from your head, you would make it special for him to see you like this.

❁ — When you stumbled through the front door together kissing feverishly, he couldn’t go fast enough. He scooped you up by the knees and walked you backwards to the bedroom, your laughter making him smile and kiss down your neck. He loved the fragrant hollow of your throat where you enchanted your skin with perfume, and how when he whispered in your ear, goosebumps erupted on your skin at the tone. You wanted each other, he was doubtless of it as you fisted the back of his shirt in your hands and sighed for him yearnfully.

❁ — The bed is soft and moonlit as he lays you down upon it. You wait for him as he switches on the light on your bedside table, and the stained-glass lampshade casts a mosaic of warm honey colors all over you.

❁ — Smiling, blinking slow, you part your legs for him as he stands to his full height, inviting him between them, but Simon is transfixed. The rush that compelled him earlier, the one to cover your body with his own, simmers as he leans in.

❁ — Dwelling dreamily, he traces the side of your lovely, soft face with his knuckles. Along the curved plane of your temple, the pillow of your cheek, down to the lush seam of your parting lips. Your lashes dip and you capture his hand to press a kiss into the heart of his palm.

❁ — “Love,” he murmurs. He was so in love, he didn’t know what to do with himself. His other hand comes to rest on your knee and he circles a thumb across your tights. “I could spend all night just looking at you like this.”

❁ — You hum, lifting the skirt of your dress a little higher up your thighs. This was his way of saying that you didn't have to do this if you weren't ready; Simon would be happy with whatever you decided to share of yourself with him. A light of understanding glimmers in your gaze.

❁ — “I want you closer.”

❁ — A knot tightens in his throat as he watches your fingers flirt with the frill of your hem, shuddering to think of them up higher, between, glistening.

❁ — “You’re sure?”

❁ — A sun of hope burns in his chest as he awaits your answer. He holds it back with all his self-control, his fingertips trembling along the swoop of your collarbone. If you say yes, he would succumb to all the things he's imagined doing to you, thousands of times, scrambling for where to start in showing you how much you mean to him.

❁ — In a liquid motion, you slide up with your hands braced behind you to gaze up at him and place that hesitant, dreaming hand of his over your heart.

❁ — “Simon, you’re all I think about.”

❁ — Whatever remained of his granite cracks and you move together.

❁ — He unzips your tall boots, holding your ankle as he tugs them off. Your tights join the floor next and he’s gathering the soft folds of your knitted dress up over your head. The undressing of himself is all a seamless blur—he has no interest in seeing anything other than your bare body and has no patience for hindrances, but when you lift a final, snowy camisole above your shoulders Simon's stomach flutters and his breath catches.

❁ — With all his imaginings, nothing could've prepared him for the heavenly sight of you before him in lingerie, and his jaw goes slack.

❁ — You let him look, gaze shy with your bottom lip tucked in while your fingers fiddle at your side in anticipation.

❁ — Your breasts are perfectly cupped in a translucent bra, the powder blue mesh fabric of which is embroidered with a garden of wildflowers with seed pearls at their centers. A wispy little bow rests in the center, a shimmery lace that scritches between his thumb and forefinger as he marvels at it. Your underwear matches, framing your hips in a way that makes him groan.

❁ — "Christ, you're fucking perfect," he murmurs at last. A tremor of unworthiness stays his hands, too afraid of tearing the delicate garment to touch it.

❁ — "I wanted you to see me like this," you begin. "Because I thought you deserved something nice when all you do is make me feel so....worthwhile."

❁ — A stone rolls away from his heart. Simon's brows drawbridge up, forgetting his own feelings of inadequacy as he cradles your warm shoulders in his hands and leans in to kiss you. He could never word the depths of his gratitude and awe, so he imparts it in this kiss instead, bruising, tender, and acheful.

❁ — He finds your lips soft, warm, and beaded with moisture as your calves enfold around him like the wings of a dove. He's falling back with you on the covers and he cannot help but grind himself against you until you're whimpering, desire taking over his thoughts. He wants to watch you come, just like that. He wants to feel your warmth around his fingers and lave and tease at you with his tongue until he heard you call his name in the pleasure-filled tenor of your voice, to behold this beautiful sculpture of a woman unravel. His kiss breaks away to view the sight of you laid out for him and his palms course along your torso appreciatively.

❁ — "Oh, sweet girl. How can you want me?"

❁ — You lean up with an arm thrown over his sturdy shoulders, unhooking your bra, which he pulls away as you bring your caress to his thickset arms, holding yourself upright to kiss at the tragedy of scars across his chest. Simon holds you by the small of your back, letting his eyes fall shut and embracing how much he feels the delicacy of your soft kiss across his skin, the sensation warming his body down to his toes like sunshine.

❁ — Reaching his shoulder, you trace a nail along the groove of the scar that cuts through his mouth, your eyes aglow with affection. It's a look he's not ready for; it stirs in his chest a throbbing ache to never be without you, but what you say next surpasses it.

❁ — "Make me yours."

❁ — In a moment when the thickness of his fingers were tangled with the grace of yours, Simon once told you that whatever was left of him belonged to you. You could have the broken shards of a man he still had left to give. But then you embraced him, held those pieces for long enough to carry him here to the moment when you said those exact words that made his soul alight, and he is suddenly entire.

❁ — A groan flutters from him, and in his head he maps out a plan for everything he wants to do to you, knowing where to start first as he travels down your body. Parting your thighs around his shoulders, he kisses the wet spot darkening the bridge of your underwear with the fullness of his mouth, pressing his nose into you until you keen and lift your hips, giving him the opening he needs to pull your underwear down blindly and show you what you mean to him.

Comments are appreciated 🥺 Thank you for reading 💖

[vulpisnocturna]

Itachi w/number 8.

He’s such a sweetie and gives me the utmost pleasure dom vibes he’s prolly scared of hurting the reader but when he’s told to go absolutely nuts he surpasses all expectations and limits 😍😍😍

I think that's the perfect prompt for him anon! My little meow meow going feral <3

8) reader: I don't want you to be gentle. I want you to ruin me.

NSFW - Minors do not interact

Warnings: Hard dom Itachi, degradation kink, praise kink, breath play, vaginal sex, mating press, breeding kink, Uchiha creampie™, overstimulation

You let out a soft sigh as Itachi’s tongue twirled around your nipple, his brow furrowed as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, making you feel every vein and ridge against your g-spot. Your hand tugged at his hair tie, letting his hair loose as you tangled your fingers in the soft black strands.

‘You are so perfect. I love you’ he murmured, his voice slightly strained, his dark eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at you.

‘I love you’ you murmured, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more friction, more of his very infrequent moods where he would be overcome by his needs and thrust into you at a more unrelenting pace. He seemed to be slowing down every time his hips jerked harshly against you, glancing at you again and again when he gripped your hip or your ass to see if you were in pain, asking you all the time if he was hurting you.

You knew relationships were an uncharted territory for Itachi. Yours was a fairly new one, and he treated you like you were made of the finest china. Like you were going to shatter into smithereens if he so much as dug his fingers into your skin a little too hard.

By no means an unskilled lover, Itachi always made sure you came multiple times. He never seemed to be satisfied until you were unable to speak, until your legs trembled on his shoulders. But he was never demeaning. He never showed his dangerous side. The side of him that you could see in his eyes as he looked at you as he fucked you, the darkness swirling in those black irises that threatened to drown you.

You were fascinated by it. You craved it. You wanted him to own you, claim you, brand you. You wanted him to lose control, lose all his composure and let himself feel everything, you wanted him to be just as intimidating and domineering as he was with everyone else, knowing that when you both came down from your high, he would go back to being your gentle, loving partner.

‘Itachi- let go. I won’t break’ you said, and he looked at you, slowing down, his throat bobbing.

‘I don’t want to hurt you. I want to be gentle with you’ he murmured. You bit the corner of your bottom lip, grabbing his hand and wrapping it around your throat. His fingers twitched for a moment, but they were loose around your neck.

‘I don’t want you to be gentle. I want you to ruin me’ you said, looking at him, trying to convey that you were sure, that you wanted this, that he was not going to hurt you.

Something changed in his eyes. Some kind of deeper desire, of feral need that seemed to be battling with his rationality.

‘My love-‘ he breathed, looking as though the last shreds of his composure were hanging onto a thread. Like he was fighting not to give in.

‘Let go, Itachi. Ruin me. Fuck me like I know you want to’ you said. His jaw tightened, his fingers wrapping more around your throat, thumb pressing on the side, making your head light and heightening the sensations in your body. His eyes turned into his sharingan, a deep red that seemed to consume you.

‘You will have to take it if you want me to be rough. If you want me to ruin you, you will have to do as I say, when I say it’ he warned. You nodded a little, your clit throbbing at the drop in his voice, your stomach tight with primal fear at the man who could ruin you, tear you apart.

‘I will. I will’ you said, and he smirked slightly, making you feel like his prey.

He started slow again, and you wanted to tell him to just fuck you into the mattress, but the next thing you knew was his fingers digging into your thigh, a low groan escaping him as he slammed into you, tearing a loud cry from you as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

‘This is what you wanted? You want me to fuck you so hard you’re crying and screaming for it, little one?’ he groaned, and you let out a whine, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continued to slam his hips against you, his fingers gripping the fat of your ass, his teeth sinking in the curve of your neck.

‘Yes! Ahh- ‘tachi…’ you keened, arching your back into him as he lifted your legs up around his ribs, looking down at you with those hypnotic eyes, seeming like a fallen angel in the soft moonlight, his eyes gleaming like embers in the ash.

‘Your little cunt is just perfect, isn’t it? So tight around me. So wet. So fucking needy. Suck’ he commanded, pushing two fingers into your eager mouth. You moaned, hardly able to keep your eyes open as you obeyed, sucking and drooling slightly as he pressed on your tongue, ramming into you.

‘Did I tell you to close your eyes? Watch. Watch as I fuck you. You want me to ruin you? Then watch me do it. Do not close them, or I will keep you on the brink of your orgasm for hours. And no amount of begging is going to save you’ he said harshly, bending your legs against your chest until you let out a cry around his fingers, your eyes welling up with tears as you felt him everywhere, stretching your muscles, brushing against your clit, painfully tightening the knot in your lower stomach.

‘Are you going to cum? For so little? It seems my little slut is enjoying herself. You look so pretty, little one. But not nearly as fucked out as you are going to be by the end’ he crooned, removing his fingers from your mouth and putting your ankle up on his shoulder, starting to rub your clit and making you sob as your hips twitched with a mind-numbing orgasm that had you arching your back and quivering around him.

He’d never been so impossibly mean and condescending to you, he’d never degraded you. And that made his words that much hotter, that much dirtier.

‘Fuck- perfect little slut. You look pitiful’ he said, and you tried to keep your teary eyes on him, which only made you squirm and clench around him more as your orgasm heightened in intensity, racking up till you couldn’t even think.

And yet, he seemed to be far from finished. He slipped out of you, unceremoniously flipping you on your stomach and keeping your head pushed against the mattress, his fingers fisting your hair as he lifted your hips and sank back into your cunt, making you whine and squirm with your sensitive post-orgasm body.

‘Do not squirm away from me’ he hissed, dragging your thighs back against his and pounding into you. Tears trickled down the bridge of your nose, your mouth open in a permanent gasp as he rocked you on his thick cock.

‘Itachi!’ you screamed, and he let out a dark scoff, pulling you up by the hair and wrapping an arm around you.

‘Beg’ he said sweetly in your ear, sucking on your throat hard enough to leave a mark of his possessiveness.

‘Please- please, Itachi- so good…. you feel so good’ you moaned, turning your head to kiss him. He pressed on your lower stomach, making you see stars as you felt his hand press where you could feel his cock going in and out of you.

‘Good girl. You are so sweet. All mine to fuck. Only I get to make you sob for my cock. Only I get to see you like this- you are mine, aren’t you?’ he crooned, his hand wrapping around your throat again, your head lolling backwards on his shoulder.

‘Yes- yes… all yours. Just you- please, Itachi… ‘m yours’ you slurred, your hands clawing at his arm, holding his nape as you arched into him.

He hummed, sounding pleased as he pushed you on the bed again and onto your back again. But this time, he bent your legs so far against your chest that your knees were brushing your tits, and his body was pushing into you, keeping you locked into that position and he pushed his cock back in.

‘You’re going to cum again around my cock, aren’t you? Be a good little slut and cum for me’ he said, his jaw clenched as he kept your calves on his shoulders, thrusting so deeply inside you he was pounding against your cervix.

You cried and sobbed, a litany of slurred cursing and pleas and his name heavy on your lips as you complied with him, having no choice but to acquiesce to his every demand. He cursed, his thrusts getting sloppier, faster.

‘Fuck- that’s my good girl. Going to cum inside you, mh? You’d love that, wouldn’t you? A little slut like you- you’d beg to be stuffed full of my cum. For me to fuck it right back into you where it belongs’ he groaned, and you nodded, your throat dry and sore from all the screaming.

‘Yes- please cum inside me, ‘tachi… want it so bad-‘ you whined, and Itachi moaned, his thrusts slowing down as he came deep inside you, warmth seeping into you as he continued to thrust, though at a much lazier, more controlled pace.

You moaned, your clit still pulsing when he slipped out of you and lay down next to you, catching his breath, his arm draped over your stomach.

‘Are you alright, my love?’ he asked after a little bit, and you nodded drowsily, dizzy and exhausted.

‘Fuck, Itachi. I’m not forgiving you for keeping this hidden from me for so long’

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

"𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫"˚ ₊‧꒰ა $ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

synopsis: after losing a bet in the casino a day prior, your boyfriends gamble against you was for his girlfriend to show up with him the next day in a sultry, but fun outfit ;)

tags: semi-public, oral, pet names (bunny), vulgar, explicit

wrd cnt: 600+

a/n: i wasn’t even a huge aventurine fan before this but lord this was fun to write

Aventurine, your boyfriend, stood before you, his piercing eyes gleaming with anticipation. He was dressed to impress, his tailored suit accentuating his chiseled features. You, on the other hand, were clad in a bunny costume, complete with fluffy ears, a cotton ball tail, and a revealing corset. It was his request, and you had reluctantly agreed, knowing it you’d be a swindler for all eternity if you didn’t complete your end of the bet.

The casino was bustling with people, just like the day before. The sound of clinking glasses, chatter, and the constant hum of slot machines creating a cacophony of noise. You had chosen a relatively secluded spot, nestled between two rows of slot machines, but it was still very much in public. The thrill of being caught added to the excitement, and she could feel her heart racing in her chest.

"Get on your knees, loser," Aventurine chuckled, his voice low and husky, as he ran his fingers through your hair, sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded, her eyes locked on his, as she dropped to her knees. The cold, hard floor beneath you was a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin, but you didn't care. You were here to make good on your word, and plus, it was all too ridiculous to take seriously.

Aventurine's eyes never left yours as he unzipped his pants, revealing his already-hard cock. "Go on, bunny," he whispered, his voice laced with desire.

You obliged, fingers wrapping around his shaft as you began to stroke him. You played with his tip, slapping it down on your tongue while looking at him as he played on the slots, flushing money down the drain as if it was worthless.

You kissed down his length, teasing him just a while longer before uour mouth enveloped his cock, taking him deep into your throat. Aventurine's eyes fluttered closed, a soft groan escaping his lips as you worked your magic.

"Fuck, you're so good at this," he whispered, his voice trembling with pleasure. "You're a dirty little whore, aren't you? Yeah…now keep going.”

You hummed in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers down his spine. His hips began to buck, his cock pistoning in and out of your mouth as he chased his release, while trying to stay as neutral as possible as people constantly walked by.

The sound of clinking glasses and laughter from the nearby bar grew louder, but you didn't care. You were lost in their own little bubble of desire, where nothing else mattered.

As Aventurine's orgasm approached, he pulled out of your mouth, his chest heaving with excitement. "I'm going to come all over your face, mkay’ bunny?," he whispered, his eyes blazing with intensity.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation.

With a few swift strokes, Aventurine came, his load splashing across your face, dripping down your chin and onto your corset. Your closed her eyes, feeling a rush of arousal flow down into your cunt, wishing he’d just let you ride him where he sat; and he probably would if he was just a little drunk and had no problem with getting you two arrested.

As you opened her eyes, she saw Aventurine's gaze locked on your, his eyes burning with desire. "Shall we make another bet?"

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[xythlia]

— ❛ metamorphosis ❜

inspired by the greek myth of pygmalion and galatea, the sculptor who loved his creation so much he begged aphrodite to turn her flesh and blood so she would be his wife

› satoru x f!reader

› word count : 2k+

warnings : angst, m masturbation, mention of death but nothing explicit, readers a curse & a marble statue, something something be careful what you wish for (possibly gonna do a pt two because obviously reader came back wrong™)

Everyone who needs to know, knows how a curse is formed. Knows exactly where they come from and for the most part why. But Satoru could never wrap his head around why you chose to haunt him, and like this.

After your initial death it manifested as peculiar visions caught in his peripheral, a flash of white that dissipated the second any of his six eyes tried focusing on it. But the feeling of it, god it felt just like you. And it was so like you to play some elaborate little joke, even after death. As if your entire death had been one elaborate joke and not the second greatest heartache of his life.

He'd been careful, so painfully careful about controlling himself and not letting the despair of losing you suffocate him lest this be the outcome. He didn't want to see you that way. Instead throwing himself into teaching, into the present, lest he become shackled by the past even more than he already was. He tried so very, very hard to let you go.

But apparently it wasn't really up to him, because as the years passed you gained more and more substance, more form, and seemingly felt more emboldened to no longer hide in the corners of his eyes but forcing yourself front and center.

And what a odd form you took.

A statue. Innocuous at first glance but he was never one to take anything at face value. It was like you were carved by a sculptor par excellence, birthed not from chisel but as if from the universe itself. Every detail, down to the most miniscule, lovingly rendered in breathtaking relief. So much tenderness held captive in your hardened, unseeing eyes. A hand held aloft in an almost loving, beckoning position.

As the days passed he spent more and more time focused on you, on your appearance and looking at it not as a curse but perhaps the strangest of blessings. You hadn't come back as some thing all teeth or claws, in fact you never moved a muscle. Just like all the earthly sculptures bedecked in various museums around the world you stood much the same.

With each day came a new bauble he would fix to your marble form, a flower held here or there to your hair with scotch tape, his favorite scarf wrapped around your cool to the touch neck. This evolved into a sort of... ritual over time. It was something he took greater joy in than he would ever admit. Quiet nights spent murmuring to you, not minding that you never answered. You didn't need to. It wasn't as sophisticated as telepathy but just the same it was like he could feel your feelings in response to whatever he was saying while rearranging and redressing your stone body.

In rare moments when his fingers would brush against the stone he could almost swear it felt warm, as if just seconds away from giving beneath his fingertips like melting wax, and in the next second you'd be shrieking with laughter at being accidentally tickled by him.

Just like back then.

It did mystify him a bit, why you chose a marble statue and why you remain so silent and still. Maybe it would hurt too much otherwise, so he doesn't press you to speak or try to change your shape. It was just like when you were still here, he would've loved you no matter what so why would it be any different like this?

But still, he feels all the same longing he felt then. The need to touch you, hold you, see your back arching off his bed and feel your fingers gripping against his shoulder blades. The saccharine cries of his name from your lips, prayer like and spurring him on move deeper, harder.

His hands tremble against your inert ones, tears blurring you in watercolor relief as the world loses its focus. His breathing became laborious as he rested his forehead against you, always so cold to the touch. It did little to ground him against the tidal wave of grief soaked desire that rushed around his mind.

Without conscious thought his hand slid down his torso, palming at his aching erection through his sweatpants. It was obscene, even thinking about doing something like this with a curse but for better or worse he was devoid of thought in this moment. His lips pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your alabaster skin as he rolled the waistband down, feeling his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen.

Satoru hissed feeling the warm weight of his cock in hand, the pressure felt good and a soft sigh fell from his lips as his eyes fluttered closed. Retreating into memory as his other hand gripped the frigid marble, so hard he was afraid for half a moment that it would bruise before remembering himself.

He licked the palm of his hand, wishing it was your tongue sliding against the veins of his cock before wrapping it around the shaft, stroking slowly at first and alternating to swipe his thumb over his flushed tip, practically dripping precum.

He's called back to a memory from early in your relationship, showering together for the first time mostly out of utility after being on a particularly lengthy mission. The way you'd slid your hands down his body, across his back and over his stomach had made his heart feel like someone strapped electric cables to it.

Its harder to hold back as he falls headlong into it, remembering how your hands looked wrapped around his cock, fingertips straining to meet around the full thickness of him. The thrill of it sends shivers down his spine, makes him pump himself faster.

You'd look otherworldly on your knees in front of him now, eyes teary and cheeks hollow as you struggle to take all of him down your throat but you were always so eager to please, especially when it came to him. Satoru can feel the coil tightening in his gut, and before he was truly ready it's already happening, thick milky spurts splashing against your skin and his balls throbbing so hard his thigh muscles even tensing up in response. It took monumental effort to keep himself steady, braced against your solid form as his cum decorated you with the most pornographic accessory yet.

As his breathing steadied he was overcome with the fact that he hates himself for this.

Hates you a little bit too.

How pathetic, to be reduced to masturbating against this lifeless vision of you. To play dress up with it. To speak and laugh with it as if it's his closest confidant.

Just as he felt himself on the brink of the emotional abyss of grief something caught his eye, making his breath hitch and it was as if all time stopped.

The color of the marble was different.

So subtle that he nearly missed it, but it was undeniable. Ever so slightly the pallor of your skin had shifted, as if the color was bleeding through slowly.

For the first time in a long while Satoru wept.

[silentium-symphony]

It Can Wait (Link x Reader)

(a/n) sorry it took awhile! college is starting to pick up and senioritis is hitting like a truck. while i drown in various marine labs (not the fun ones with seals and dolphins, the scary ones that feature Excel and R), please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic LOL

cw: how can i call myself a fanfic writer if i don't do the One Bed™ trope ;), some swearing, ya'll are just a pair of awkward lovestruck goobers, honestly just pure fluff :)

wc: 5.3k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You watched the edge of the sun rake the tip of some far-off mountain, dipping lower and lower past the horizon; your heart followed the celestial body in its descent to darkness. Concern loomed over your head like a thick thundercloud and your bleary eyes focused on your companion's sun-washed back.

"Hey... Link?"

The tips of his oranged ears twitched and he cast an indifferent glance past his shoulder.

"Do you see anything up ahead? A town or a stable, maybe?"

Link threw his gaze forward and 'hmph-ed,' jabbing his pointer finger to a bundle of dots precariously painted on the horizon. Your feet fluttered at the sight of civilization, momentarily forgetting the pins and needles that have been poking your legs and lower back for the past three hours.

"Oh thank Hylia--a town!"

Link had never seen you move so fast--he had to catch up with you! He lightly jogged to cover the distance.

"Slow down," he called out, voice barely louder than the winds, "you're not gonna make it at that pace."

"But Liiiink..." You whined. "A town! Civilization! Possibly with an inn! And beds!"

Not a moment later you felt your hand snatched in his as he practically dragged the two of you through the plains, exhaustion and aches be damned.

“L-Link! By the gods, slow down! You’re scuffing my boots!”

“Bed.”

“Link!!!”

You dove and ducked your head under whizzing branches, fumbled over a small brook, and ran what felt like an eternity before the rusted iron gates came into view. You were heaving at this point, each raggedy breath caught in the edges of your swollen lungs. Your stamina-for-days friend also seemed a bit spent, but he pushed onward and paid little mind to the blood rushing through his temples.

You practically collapsed at the gate, tumbling onto all fours and dry-heaving your next breath. Link, noticeably shaking, placed a trembling hand on the wall as he, too, fought to breathe. Hylia, he hadn’t run like that in years—even if he were the Hero of Hyrule™.

“Don’t,” you spat out in between heaves. “Ever do that again.”

“But we… made it… before they locked the gates.” Link was in much better shape than you (which wasn’t saying much) as he pointed to the town guards lowering the metal gates with a resounding clang.

A groan, a shuffle, followed by relief as you felt the wall’s cool stone ease the sweat and heat off your back. You threw your head up and took as deep of a breath as you could, dizzy from the bursts and sparks of colors behind your eyelids. You felt something hard slip into your laps and you winced your eyes open. A canteen?

“Drink some water.” Link’s lips were already moistened with the aqua panacea. You looked up at him gratefully and happily lapped up the rest of its contents, noting to fill his bottle later. The crisp spring water brought much-needed relief to the desert your throat had become; Link slipped the empty canteen into his pouch and looked around for the—

“What… Is that?”

You followed Link’s finger up and up and up to some… Structure? Spire? Shooting into the windows of an equally tall building. Your eyes bounced between the rickety invention and the bewildered blues of your companion, totally lost.

Only one way to find out.

After you got your bearings, you and Link slowly made your way over to the building, which happened to be… the inn? The structure grew clearer in your vision, but you still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. The main piece looked like a bunch of bamboo glued together by the ends, with some tubes sticking off to the side and into several rooms. The tail disappeared into the murky depths of a hot spring—HOT SPRING????

Link must have realized the godly pools the same time you did, his head whipping around to meet your excited gaze. You both slipped through the door and were immediately encased in a scent of steam and aromatics. It was as if the very essence of the hot spring was embedded in the inn's walls.

“Welcome, welcome! How can I— L-Link?!”

Link shot at the sound of his own name, looking over to the innkeeper who seemed… starstruck?

“I-It’s really you, sir! Wow, I… Wow!”

“I’m sorry but… Do we know you?” You chimed from the back.

“Oh! Um, I’m so terribly sorry. You may not remember me Link, but I remember you! This young man here has saved my life!”

“He did?”

“I have?”

“Yes! Do you not remember the weary traveler with the twisted ankle at the bottom of a ditch?" Link, in fact, did not remember. "That was me, sir! You took the time to tend my injuries and dropped me off right here in this very town!”

He bowed deeply, the little patch of hair on his head dipping with him.

“I’ve always wanted to thank you for your kindness, sir. Without you, I wouldn’t have realized my dreams of running a world-renowned inn!”

‘World-renowned?’

“It is by the grace of Hylia we meet again. For you only, I am offering you our premium room for the price of a regular one!”

Link’s ears twitched, no doubt in celebration of this seemingly once-in-a-lifetime deal. He turned to you, eager eyes bulging out of his head, and your laugh was all the okay he needed. He pulled out his wallet and paid for the night.

“What makes this room so special?” You interrupted before the innkeeper could grub the last rupee.

“I’m so glad you asked! Surely you have seen that tower outside our fine establishment, yes?”

You nodded slowly.

“With a lil’ bit of magic and Hylian ingenuity, we have devised a way to jet water from the hot springs straight to your room! Our premium rooms showcase the magic firsthand in the form of, what we call, a shower!”

“A… Shower?”

“Yes! You’ll see very soon, it is a wonderful addition to any room. We’ve really struck gold with this one…” He mumbled towards the end, not fully realizing he said it aloud. “Please, allow me to show you to your rooms!”

You two followed the short, stocky innkeeper up a few flights of stairs and down winding hallways. He stopped at the door to your room and plopped a golden key into Link’s hand.

“This is your room! Have fun with the shower, lovebirds!”

The innkeeper winked; a pair of mouths gaped open in heated protest, but he had already rounded the corner and returned to his innkeeper duties. A frazzled look sparked between two wide eyes and Link gulped, looking away to turn the key.

With a click, twist, and push, you were greeted by a grand bed spread across the middle of the room, dwarfing the moderately sized bookshelf packed with books and knickknacks. To your right was a gorgeous mahogany round table with matching chairs, a scene of woodland festivity carved about the curve of the surface. A wicket basket full of all kinds of goodies sat neatly atop the bed’s luscious sheets, vying for attention.

Like children in a candy store, you both fumbled right in and immediately made yourselves at home, kicking off your dirty and scuffed boots at the door ⁽ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵍˡᵃʳᵉ⁾ and slugging your bag onto the round table. The silky sheets were practically calling your name, but the layer of sweat and grime accumulated on your skin made you hesitate to tarnish the clean bed.

The singular clean bed.

Your heart lurched to your throat and you immediately threw a hesitant look at Link, who was going through the gift basket and humming happily. He must not have noticed. He finally turned to you with a bright smile, spoils of the room in hand, and his features immediately fell at your concerned look.

“Is everything all right?”

“There’s only one bed.”

“What? No there isn’t, there’s…” He glanced around the room, his lazed looks turning into frenzied glimpses. Link’s cheeks darkened to a hue similar to the deep red bedsheet.

“Oh.”

"W-Well, it's not that big of a deal..." You two have clawed your way out of the deepest pits of suffering together, surely you could handle one measly lil' night in a spacious bed. In a bid to calm your racing thoughts, your head lolled to the side and frantically searched the rest of the room; an inconspicuous door caught your attention. Two weary bodies crept towards the door, giddy with anticipation.

A room adorned with all the regular happenings of a bathroom filled your vision, but off to the corner was a... long, rectangular, glass box? With a spout carved into the wall? As you neared the contraption, still unsure of what to think of it, a golden gear caught your eye, as well as various sprigs and bunches of mint and lavender. The gear turned with a squeak, and steamed water poured forth in a steady stream. A holler left you and Link as you watched the technological marvel steam up the room. You squeaked the faucet close and turned to the man behind you.

"So who's gonna go first?"

"You can," he stepped out, "I need to stop by the market before it closes."

“What? Are you sure?”

He nodded; you waved goodbye to the blonde as he slipped on his boots, tucked his wallet in his pocket, and left. While his footsteps disappeared down the hall, you slipped out of your grimy clothes, fetched fresh ones from your sack, and waltzed into the shower.

With a quick turn of your wrist, bullets of warm water pelleted all the sore aches knotting your back and shoulders. You let out an audible groan, slinking against the heavenly sensation. The steam coddled the mint and lavender, drawing out the former’s nippy spice before dulling it with the latter’s soothing fragrance. Nature’s finest aromas settled onto your skin and snuggled into your hair. All the cool streams and frigid lakes you’ve been forced to skinny dip in for the past several weeks melted into a distant memory as the heavy fog clouded your thoughts.

But not your sense of awareness.

You poked your head out of the shower, straining your ears for some type of sign that Link had returned. There was stillness on the other side of the door; a relieved sigh slipped out of you.

You felt your throat strain a tad, disuse rusting your vocal cords, as a melody you had since forgotten until this moment clawed its way out of you. A long inhale filled your lungs with scented steam and growing bravado as your quiet, cautious mumbles turned into full-on melodies. You checked every now and then, gear turning slightly to slow and quiet the flow, but the unclicking door assured you were still alone.

And hey, so long as you were quieter than the jetting water, it should be all good… right?

And so you sang your heart out, your rationale loosening your tongue and diaphragm to fill the bathroom with your beautiful voice. You sang a bunch of tunes, from hype music to mournful, soulful ballads. You were performer and audience all bundled in a steamy, mint-kissed, lavender-lapped, package.

If the vapor plumes tickling your ankles were any testament to how long you’d been there, you’d have to admit that your simple shower had turned into a luxurious escape from the cold confines of reality. The last note you sang rolled into a sigh as you turned the gear, the barrage of water turning into a mere trickle. Your reddened body longed to feel the water's hot caresses, but alas, you had to leave your watery sanctuary at some point. Pruny fingers grasped the soft cotton hanging off a hook and you scrunched your hair of excess water before patting yourself down.

You had never felt so clean in your life.

Your warmed pajamas did wonders for your already relaxed muscles and a yawn lapsed out of you. You drowsily clicked the door open, a cloud of steam rolling at your feet, and smiled dreamily at...

Link.

Who was looking rather... flustered.

And amused.

Your heart dropped to the soles of your feet as a cold sweat beaded your brow, a dark realization settling in. Feigning innocence as best you could, you tilted your head.

“… What?”

He stood up from his chair, tossing his locks from side-to-side, and sauntered over to you with his pajamas bundled in the crook of his elbow. As he passed you by, the ghost of a whisper tickled the shell of your ear.

“Nice voice.”

Dear Hylia if you’ve ever loved me strike me down right fucking now

You turned to him, mouth agape and heart reeling, only for his outline to disappear behind a wall of hot mist and wood. The silence on your side of the room was suffocating; Link’s happy little hums funneled the tension out of the situation through the thinnest straw that ever strawed.

Maybe you misheard him? It wasn't like he was much of the teasing type... How long had he been here anyway? Maybe he just walked in as you finished and and and and happened to hear the faucet turn and maybe just maybe it sounded a bit like a squeak that could maybe pass off as a person's voice?

The bracing breeze of the night nipped your sensitive skin and calmed your overstimulated brain. You didn’t remember your journey to the window, but you were thankful your feet had guided you to a refreshing anchor for your frenzied thoughts. You took a deep breath in… and out. Innnn… and out…

This wasn’t so bad. Okay granted, you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your crush whom you’ll be traveling with for the foreseeable future but it’s not all that bad. At least you got this gorgeous view! And wow, birds! Nature! That’s cool!

After several minutes of trying to keep your dooming thoughts at bay, the faucet squeaked a dying note and the last deluge of water dripped into soft drops. Link—still humming and noticeably more at ease—shuffled a fair bit before he made his entrance into the bedroom, hair damp and skin blushed a faint pink and wow he looks so good right now—

You damn near slapped yourself and flashed him a warm (albeit awkward) smile, noting his very shirtless form and the pajamas still scrunched in his arms. He motioned to the parts of the fabric that were darker than usual.

“It fell in a puddle, so I’m letting it air out a bit.” With a whip of his wrists, a worn shirt and matching shorts snapped in front of him and settled on top of a chair. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Knowing that the towel tied around his slutty lil waist was the only thing separating you from a great night got you feeling weak. You hastily turned your gaze to the outside before your blatant staring could turn into gawking.

A silence eclipsed the room as your eyes wandered over the town’s nightlife. Specks of Hylians dotted the dimly lit square; further below, a decently-sized crowd congregated the hot springs, traces of idle chatter floating to your ears. The stars poked an indifferent glow past the cloudy streaks in the sky and although the lunar body had yet to grace you with its presence, its soft light was still felt and appreciated by all.

You felt the air beside you stir and a loud gasp escaped you, jolting at the sudden appearance of the still-shirtless man. He rested his frame against folded arms as he peered off into the night, aestheticizing like you were only moments before. His skin had paled into its familiar alabaster, and the whitish glow of the moon circled a halo about his figure. The familiar sprigs of aromatics tickled your nose, tinging his cypress and amber scent with a fragrance of cleanliness.

“Lovely night.”

“Y-Yes.” You coughed out, still unused to the proximity. Gods, if he already got you acting up like this, how much more during bedtime?

“Did you find everything we needed?” You continued, hoping to make some light conversation about nothing.

“Yes. We’re all stocked up.” A flit of blue met your (E/C)s. “We leave at dawn, so we should head to bed soon.”

"Ah... Are your clothes dry now?"

"Hopefully my shorts are."

Link went to collect his clothes and 'tsk-ed' at the still-damp shirt. His scarred hands ghosted the knot tied right above his pelvis. He eyed your back as he discarded the plush white towel for his shorts, the fabric thinning and pilling from overuse.

"Are you decent?" Your tone lilted mirthfully. You heard fabric creasing and shifting from the bed, and you turned in response to his quiet ‘mm.’ Your core warmed at the sight of a toned, combat-kissed back and you mentally flogged yourself for your ridiculous bashfulness. With your heart pounding a quickening pace in your ears, you sallied over to your edge of the bed and sunk down.

The air was honeyed with sexual tension and you pawed and balled the silky sheets. Link’s heavy gaze rested on the same spot on the wall, fully expecting two holes to drill themselves into existence under his scrutinizing watch.

Why were you so panicked? This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in rather... intimate situations.

A sudden movement made you flinch and you craned your neck to see behind you. With a long sigh, Link ruffled his hair and blew out a candle, muffling a ‘goodnight’ under his breath. The same silence blanketed you again, suffocating coherency out of your racing thoughts.

You pulled your knees over the edge and adjusted yourself under the covers, relieved at the plush mattress coddling the sore gaps in your body. Your head fell to the side and was once again met with Link's back (that was scooted to the very edge of the bed). You didn’t know if you should feel offended or grateful.

You followed suit, turning your body to meet the window. The moonlight was brighter now, casting a gentle spotlight on the floating dust particulates and water specks that traipsed through the window.

Your ears strained to hear and hope for the familiar deep breaths Link drew in the throes of slumber. The deathly quiet was all the sign you needed to know that he was still very much awake (and listening for your soft snores as well).

The soft sheets and the heat radiating off your partner beckoned you further into bed and away from the cold night air that had begun to blow drizzles of rain. Get your rupees’ worth, you told yourself. A tiny voice unfamiliar to you peeped out a,

“Hey… Link?”

He twitched.

“Um… I’m scooting closer, just so you know.”

He doesn’t respond. Or move. Or breathe. While you debated whether he was fast asleep or crossing a boundary, you heard a quiet sigh and a,

“Me too.”

A pair of bodies shuffled closer. His heat spilled past his body and bled into your vicinity; you held back a pleased groan. You shared many a night shivering under the cold misery of wilderness and rain, pressing into each other to preserve what little heat was left between yourselves. Your eyes fluttered shut as the rain outside tapped the roof harder and harder.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

“Link…” You looked up at him, teeth chattering as he beheld you with a warm gaze. He tugged the corners of the cloak closer together while your shaking hands combed matted gold off his forehead.

“Are you warm?”

“As warm as I can be.” Eyes studied your makeshift shelter—a tree’s grove—helplessly. Your wet back was pressed into mossed and ivied bark while your companion’s was bulleted and blown by the storm’s raging tempest. You pulled his shaking body closer, closer, closer, until he was practically on top of you. Still, the winds whipped something nasty against his soaked back, his drenched shirt adding to the frigidity like some sort of reverse blanket.

“I-I don’t know how, but we can try switching…” You hissed through clammy lips. He shook his head, a stray droplet landing and sliding down your cheek.

“Nonsense. You are much colder than I am.”

“Link, you’re literally shaking.”

“And your lips have turned blue.” He pulled the hood further down your face, obscuring your vision, as he took your hands in his and futilely huffed warm air. His leather gloves rubbed and chafed your pruned, muddy digits and he blew again with greater gusto.

“You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. This rain has got to let up at some point.” He murmured, his hot breath tickling your neck. You shivered from the sensation, which he mistook as the cold seeping into your bones. Muscled arms wrapped around your frame and he rubbed your sides, head burying into the crook of your neck.

“We’ll be okay… Just think of something warm, all right?

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The warmth of his skin seeped through your thin pajamas and you let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize I was rolling into you!”

“It’s okay,” a pause, “you can… Stay there if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

“Oh… Are you sure?”

He hums. “…warm…”

“Sorry? Did you say something?”

“You’re warm, so it… feels nice.”

“Oh...” Your heart thundered against your ribcage. “T-Thanks.”

Quietness cloaked the room once again; neither of you were going to sleep any time soon.

“So uh,” you started, “what are you gonna do when you get back?”

He was silent for awhile, and for a second you thought he had fallen asleep (wouldn’t be the first time he fell asleep mid conversation).

“Report our findings to the princess.”

“Ah… makes sense. How ‘bout after that?”

The male pondered your question and answered with a huff.

“Wait for my next mission.”

That’s… kinda sad..

“Well, is there anyone waiting for you? Y’know, like a…” You gulped, unsure if you wanted to know the answer. “Like a lover or something?”

You felt Link’s breath hitch and your heart sank. Of course he would have someone waiting for him, just look at him. Handsome, chivalrous, kind, strong—you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a thing going on with the princess herself.

“No.” He said at last. “I don’t have anyone in that regard.”

He said it so placidly; you couldn’t detect a hint of emotion behind that matter-of-fact statement. An inconspicuous sigh left your frame.

"Oooh, has anyone caught your eye?" You shimmied up to him before laughing at his flinch. Again, you were unsure if you were ready to hear the answer, but anything felt better than the silence you would otherwise be subjected to.

"Mm..." Was his only response.

"Aww, c'mon! Aren't we travel buddies? We've faced dozens of unimaginable horrors together. Your secret's safe with me."

"Do you have someone waiting for you?" He countered.

"Hey now, don't avoid the question!"

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

Well... It's not like you had anything to hide...

"No, I'm very much single." You laughed, a glimmer of despondence streaking your voice.

. . .

"Has anyone caught your eye?"

"Mm... Pass." You giggled, turning to face him fully now. He felt your shuffle and cast a glance over his shoulder. "Do you like anyone? Or at least find mildly attractive?"

His eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled slowly, the gears in his head turning even slower.

"Yes."

Your sinking heart juxtaposed the overly-hyped "Ooooh!" that left your lips.

"IS IT THE PRINCESS?!"

"Definitely not."

You practically got whiplash at the suddenness of his response; that could mean one of two things: he either really liked the princess, or he wanted nothing to do with her past their 'protector-protectee' relationship.

"Damn, that was fast. Seems mighty suspicious to me..." You nudged the space between his ribcage, plucking a light chuckle out of him.

"I really don't," he laughed dryly, "she's lovely but... Not really my type."

"So what is your type, O Hero of Hyrule?"

He hummed lowly before snapping his body to face you.

"My turn." He chirped through a boyish grin. His hot breath trickled across your cheeks and you swore you could drown in the oceans of his eyes.

"Has anyone caught your eye?"

You didn't think the question could be taken so literally. You blinked multiple times and looked away.

"Uh... Y-Yeah, I'd say so."

An iota of emotion brewed in his eyes, imperceptible to everyone but himself.

"Okay, my turn." You chortled, looking back up at him. "Can you describe your ideal partner?"

Eyes closing and head tilting upwards, Link dissected and analyzed the simple question with care.

"Smart, kind..." A small smile tugged his lips. "Curious, compassionate, brave, selfless..."

He angled his face into the pillow, the softness muffling his lips.

"ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵃᵗˢᶦⁿᵍᶦⁿᵍ"

"Sorry, what?"

"Nothing. So wha--"

"Nonono, you said something! What did you say?"

"Um... Good at..." A pause. "Mingling."

"... Mingling?"

. . .

"Yup."

Maybe facing Ganon with only a cheese grater wasn't such a bad idea after all

You supposed... That made sense. You could only imagine how awkward he must feel at royal banquets and dinner parties. You laughed and lightly flicked his forehead.

"You're such a dork." If you squinted hard enough, you could trick yourself into believing he was blushing. His eyes brightened at the realization it was his turn.

"So who's your ideal partner?"

"Well..." You looked down, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

"Well...?" His chest rumbled with baited anticipation.

"Loyal, caring, respectful, courageous..." You nudged the lower half of your face into your pillow, hoping to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Something like that."

He nodded slowly, the gears in his head slaving away--at what, you had no idea.

"You seem to have a pretty clear idea of what you're looking for."

"So do you!"

"Yes..." He sighed dreamily, lips warming into a rare and genuine smile. "I do."

;)

"Heheheh... Whatcha thinkin' about? Or should I say... Who?"

Panic swirled behind his eyes. "N-No one."

"I heard that stutter!" You exclaimed. "C'mon, we've practically spilled everything to each other--now all I need is a name!"

"You... may not approve."

Your heart crunched in your chest, mind spinning from all the possibilities.

"I mean... Whether I like them or not shouldn't matter. Your feelings for that person, whoever they may be, are valid."

The way your eyes crinkled so... lovingly at him made him want to curl into a ball and melt into a lovestruck puddle. How could you be this cute? This sweet? And single? Maybe... Just maybe...

"You really think so?"

"Of course! Well, if you had a crush on Ganon then we might have a problem." Your lips relaxed into a small smile. "But so long as they aren't him, I don't think there's anyone out there who I would hate."

Link balanced his chin between his pointer and thumb. Your lips curled thoughtfully, forming your next question in a bid to loosen his tongue.

"When you think of them, do you think of what could be? Where life could take the two of you?"

"Of course." He answered instantly, then reddened at how quick he responded. "I've thought about it for... awhile."

His bashfulness was met with one of your angelic chortles and you looked at him head-on.

"You deserve to be happy, Link. You deserve to live the life you want with the person you love."

His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sincerity in your eyes. Eyes that beheld him with grace and acceptance for all his failures and shortcomings. Eyes that saw him past his title of Hero. Eyes that could lift an entire kingdom's burden off his shoulders with a simple crinkle and twinkle.

"It's you."

You laughed, not quite processing what he said until--

"Wait, huh?"

"It's..." He gulped, reminding himself which piece of the Triforce he carried. "You."

"M-... Me?"

"Yes. You are who I love. You are who I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's... you."

"Oh, Link..." His heart cracked at the quietness in your tone. For once, it hurt hearing his name leave your lips.

"If you don't feel the same way, I understand. I promise I won't let this interfere with our mi--"

"No, Link! I love you too!"

Life filled his eyes, piercing a ray of light through his darkened visage.

"You... You do...?"

"Yes!" You cried out, wrapping him closer to you. "Gods, I've loved you for so long...!"

"R-Really? Me too!”

:O

“Since when?!” You both exclaimed, new love jolting a shock of energy that mismatched the time of day.

“You go first.” Link spurred, giddiness rocking him to and fro.

“Ever since that night in the tree… Do you remember? It was pouring and you were shielding me from the storm.”

He pulled away from you slightly to stroke your hair, relishing how your soft, newly washed strands laced around his fingers.

“We had just embarked on our journey.”

“I knowww.” You drew out, giggling and nuzzling into his bare chest. “What about you? When did you fall for me?”

“It was… Before our trip.”

“What?! Really?!”

He nodded.

“I saw you feeding some strays while I was patrolling the castle one time and, well…” He rubbed his neck embarrassed. “I knew you had a heart of gold the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“That was so long ago…" You reminisced about the glowing gaze your animal friends reveled you in. "Boy, I had you whipped for that long, huh?”

“You could say that.” An airy breath stuttered out of him. “You looked so beautiful… I couldn’t get enough of that look in your eyes. Pure, selfless joy. It was… mesmerizing.”

His eyes caught yours, almost as if they were searching for the same joy he spoke of. The glimmer in his seafoam pools must have meant he found it and more.

“So how’d you feel when we were assigned to this mission together?” You laughed, clearly picturing a flustered Link pacing around his room as he just about melted through the floor.

“I felt many things—panic, for one.”

“Aww, lil' ol' me got your heart racing?”

“Yes.”

Now it was your heart’s turn to race, so touched by his candor.

"You were as beautiful as you were kind; as clever as you were tough. How could I have not fallen deeper in love?" He coughed out, a hand masking the blush that promenaded his cheeks. "You always took such good care of me after our battles... Patching me up before you even wiped the dirt off your face."

"Well, you'd do it for me, no?" You jibed, fingers raking through his hair. He chuckled fondly at the form of aftercare foreign to most couples.

"And to top it all off..." He leaned down, the surface of his lips tickling your earlobe. "You have the loveliest voice in the world."

A light slap stung his chest and he roared in laughter.

"Gods, you really heard that...?!" Your hands cupped your heated cheeks and you rocked backward, jaw clenching and legs squirming from mortification.

"It's okay! More than okay! You sounded gorgeous, (F/N)."

Your heart fluttered at the sound of your own name, unused to the way it purred so perfectly out of him. Your sheepish side glance happened upon his heartfelt visage, which did wonders to ease any discomforts you had.

"Your voice was beautiful. Like a-- Like a--"

A chorus of chirps announced the arrival of morning; you both shared a horror-struck look before shortly bursting into laughter. You talked the whole night away!

He kissed your eyelids and draped the blanket over your shoulders, wrapping his arm about your waist.

"We can stay another night if you'd like. Spend a day in town." His suggestion was met with fervent nodding. "Our duties to the throne... Our mission... All of it. It can wait."

[aka-indulgence]

Something on the Graveyard Wall

Hey are you interested in kissing a Ravioli? Because I want to kiss a Ravioli. Here’s my version of a first meeting :b

(Ravioli x F!Reader No content warnings)

—————

It was a brisk night. You shuddered as you tucked your scarf back around you. The weather’s been steadily cooling over the past month, but it’s really started to bite you.

I wish I brought a hat with me… you thought, as the wind brushed your hair. You grip onto the bag and trudge forward.

Your lips twist when you approach the old graveyard. It was one of those graveyards that’s been around for hundreds of years. During the day you do feel the somber air, sometimes you’ve seen people with black umbrellas visiting on rainy days, but at night you just want to walk past it as fast as possible. The nice thing is, the Bad Vibes™ from it seem to deter most people from it, so strangely, its one of the safest ways home.

You’ve walked by countless times, but you always feel your hair stand whenever you walk past it, especially in front of the wrought iron gates that always seemed to creak whenever you weren’t looking. This night you were especially unsettled- the moon was full and high in the sky, the clouds obscured it, and there almost looked to be a mist in the graveyard.

You keep your eyes in front of you while you pass the gates, the graveyard now covered by a tall wall. You start to relax a bit when you find a strange shadow on the ground.

Your walk comes to a stop as you observe it, from a distance. It was a curved shape, long. That’s not normal. You don’t know why you have a strange sense of premonition when your eyes trail up to where it’s coming from and-

… What is that.

A man? Person? Creature? Was standing on top of the graveyard wall. Two bright, mismatched yellow eyes watched you from within its hoodie. It didn’t… look like there was a face obscured by the shadows, all you saw was darkness behind those eyes.

Something tells you this thing is probably not human! Hahaha!

Your eyes widened and your grip on your bag became deathly.

Its eyes were piercing you.

What is… what is that?! You ask again in your mind, doing your best not to scream. You think- you think your friends talked about different cryptids, but you didn’t like listening to them. You were spooked enough, living near the old graveyard, you didn’t need any stories living rent free in your head to whisper you threats that probably didn’t exist. Except this one, apparently.

You think you’ve heard of this creature, he was pretty popular with the townsfolk, you’ve heard of someone mentioning their grandpa of seeing it back in the 70s, you think. The “smiler”? “Mouth”? “The centipede”?

Inhumanely tall and lanky, jacket wearing… thing, with stitched sleeves and a completely void-black face, save for two eyes. Sounds about right.

Now you wished you had a list of all the cryptid “dos and donts” you’ve heard your friends talk about. What was it you’re supposed to do… don’t look at it? Or was it to nod your head at him and ask ‘how’s the weather, mr. jaws?’? No- wait, that’s for Mr. Jaws, obviously…

You were stuck in a staring contest with it. Your eyes feel dry. The ‘smiler’ blinks its eyes incongruously. You sweat, not knowing if this is making things worse.

You try to pretend that he’s just a weirdly shaped lamp post and start speed-walking, but then- were you supposed to stay still like a statue until it moves on? Or was that for another creature?

You almost start to a sprint when you see it move.

“E-EEeeee!!” you freeze. It comes down arms first, stretching down to the ground, its body sliding down the wall behind it. It falls into a heap on the ground for a few seconds… then its legs and arms together push it up back into standing, stretching and bending in ways that make it look like it didn't have joints. Or bones.

You tremble as it rises to its full height- must be more than twice of you! It looks like it doesn’t have much support to stand on, wobbling ever so slightly. It regards you with… curiosity?

It doesn’t react. Standing in your way from a peaceful, monster-free walk home.

Your mouth tastes sour. You can’t tell if you’re shivering because of the cold or him.

“H… hello?” You greet, hoarsely.

Were you supposed to talk to it? Or was this one of the monsters you should never try to speak with it?

The Smiler’s head rolls to the side like a ball, like something with no neck would be capable of. Its hands hang under him, close to the ground.

It makes a sound you can only describe as “???”

It lifts its hand towards you.

Nope nope nope nope, you stressed in your head as you stumbled back and away from it, but its other hand snatches you around your upper arm.

You squeak as you’re pulled under the towering creature, it’s long arms becoming liquid and stretching in various ways. It leans forwards, curling in a U-shape to be closer to your eye level; which means he’s twisted directly above your head, and you have to tilt your face up to look at him in the eyes.

Your throat tightens and your breath comes out in little puffs. Are you… supposed to scream now? Can you?

Its other hand reaches for your face. You want to smack it away, but your body is filled with cement, and you can’t move. You squeeze your eyes shut as it approaches and… pokes your cheek.

You blink an eye open. Its freed your arm now, and is starting to poke, prod… and pinch your cheeks. All the while its pupils grow in its eyes.

“... soft.”

“Uh… h-huh??”

Its eyes drift down to the bag pinched under your arm. And all of a sudden, both its too-long arms with too-sharp fingers are rummaging through your bag.

“What the- hey!”

It pulls out two things. One of them a little mint you got from work, and another your lipstick.

“Put that back!”

It blinks when you snatch the lipstick out of its hand (You’re not letting it play with your good lipstick!), but doesn’t seem to mind, instead turning its attention to the mint. You lean away as it tears the wrapping apart, and flings the candy into its hood.

You don’t… see a mouth… but you definitely hear him chewing.

Its eye widens, turning a softer, more orange yellow, curving into a happy shape.

“hee…… hehehe…”

Somehow, it both sounds like a young boy and an unfathomably ancient creature. Giggling playfully, but in a way that sounded like you were the toy.

It turns its eyes back towards you and leans closer. You grimace.

“U-um- do you want more? You can have more!” you chuckle nervously, reaching around for your second mint, presenting it to him. It stares at it for a moment, then takes it out of your hand with its long, spindly fingers. It brushes over your palm, and you do your best to hide your shudder. It looks at the mint like you’ve given it a precious treasure, then back at you.

You sidestep your way around it and bring your hands up in surrender. “W-well, I hope you like it, but I have to go home now, so- bye!”

You spun around and walked away, taking steps as big as you could possibly manage, all the while feeling those eyes bore a hole in your back. The ‘very normal walk’ turns into a sprint once you’ve turned a corner. You couldn’t get home any sooner.

… The creature stands where you left it, bent (more like curled) over, holding the mint in its hand. It turns away from the corner you left and back at the candy.

It pokes it, then rubs its fingers together, where it touched you. A smile emerges from the darkness of its face, and its eyes turn red.

“... pretty……”