#Today is just one of those days where I am reflecting on who I used to be | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bigwishes · 3 months ago

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Forced Freak

Tyson was a uni drop out, nothing special about him other than his pretty face and dedication to his diet. He had no real hobbies and no real friends. The only reason people paid him any real attention was because of his body. However guys got pretty turned off after a one night stand with him when they'd wake up and Tyson would have written them critiques about how to improve their bodies and performance in the bedroom.

Tyson was the worst kind of gym bro, not because he had no real personality, but because he was an asshole with no real personality, in fact when he wasn't coming home from the gym, taking selfies in the mirror or scrolling on grinder for someone to bounce on his waist he spent a large portion of his time staring in the mirror admiring his own perfection.

"fuck yeah, I'm probably the hottest guy alive" he'd say as he rubbed his own crotch.

His arrogant attitude had essentially transformed him into a self obsessed autosexual, whilst he enjoyed sex and having a guy put in all the work whilst he laid back in pleasure he still preferred a night to himself and his mirror.

Tyson flexed his arm one last time, admiring the perfection before him before he turned off his alarm and got up to go to the gym.

"well, I'll see you when I get home handsome" he said winking at his own reflection and snapping his underwear band.

He threw on the folded red tank top and black gym shorts he had lying on his dresser, the ones he had steamed the night before. As he walked out the door he picked up his glass from his morning water and placed it neatly in the dishwasher before turning it on and leaving for the gym.

Upon arriving at the gym Tyson walked into the welcome area where he found 3 tall bodybuilders lined up at the key scanner. Tyson rolled his eyes and tried to avoid contact with them, he hated those freaks. The guys who willingly chose to inflate themselves with disgusting amounts of muscle. Who could barely fit in their cars and he huffed and sweat like bovine beasts when they got on the treadmill.

Tyson quickly got impatient and began tapping his foot as the 3 meatheads were holding up the line.

"are you beasts gonna scan in or am I just waiting here all day"

The three turned their heads to them almost in unison

"yoo you think we are beasts huhu" one flexed his enormous bicep that dwarfed Tyson's head

"hey Ty, what up lil dude. Wanna hit bench with us today? we we can help you grow that chest"

Tyson was disgusted at the thought of working out with the three of them and smelling their terrible stench or listening to them heaving for air.

"no thanks, its hard to improve upon perfection" Tyson said with a smirk

"aw come on dude, you can always improve and get bigger, you aint even close to your limit"

"and I dont want to be" Tyson said with a disgusted frown and one raised eyebrow

There was a loud ding and the three bodybuilders began waddling and shuffling their way through the electronic gate into the gym, having to turn sideways slightly to get their hulking frames in the turn gate.

"This is what I mean" laughed Tyson

"haha, can't blame us for being absolute units man"

"But doesn't it annoy the fuck out of you being like that?"

"no way bro, being this big is fucking awesome"

the three bodybuilders all began laughing and flexing

"I'm sorry I really dont see how turning myself into a...freak would be awesome"

There was a dead silence as the three bodybuilders stopped laughing and turned to him.

"that's a bit of a harsh word bro"

"yeah man don't diss the hobby coz you aint into it"

Tyson smirked flicking as he polished his fitness watch with the edge of his jumper "dude I dont think anyone is into it"

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"umm being so big you have no style because you cant fit into anything, constantly covered in sweat marks, you reek after just a few minutes of exercise, you gulp down water like an elephant who hasn't drunk in a year, can barely fit in your cars and take up so much space, plus I like when guys find me attractive and aren't grossed out by my monstrous body" Tyson turned his back placing his gym bag in the locker completely unaware that the three men he had just insulted looked so red their heads could pop with anger.

"I'LL LET YOU KNOW MY HUSBAND LOOOOVVVEEESSS MY SIZE" the bodybuilder in the middle yelled through his teeth

"whoooaa jayce" the two others said in unison as they grabbed him by the chest and stopped him taking a step forward

"don't shoot the messenger buddy but Im pretty sure your husband wouldn't be disappointed if you lost 30-40lsb of muscle, pretty sure he'd enjoy date night without sitting across from a behemoth stuffing himself so full of protein like a slob"

Jayce threw his arms up in the air and pushed his two friends off of him turning around and walking away.

Tyson ignored the interaction implying pulling his towel and drink bottle out of his gym bag.

"You know what you need Ty..."

"and what's that Mark?" Tyson tiredly asked rolling his eyes

"A real good bulk, make ya real big, that'll change your mind" Mark smirked looking at his friend who was smiling back.

"whatever" Tyson groaned as he walked off into the gym.

---

A few hours had passed and Tyson was in the changing room admiring himself after his workout. It was enough to pump him to that perfect spot where he looked just slightly bigger and was a little sore, but not enough to make him sweat or stimulate the sort of growth a lot of gym guys were after.

Tyson flexed one bicep and ran his other hand down his thigh feeling himself get hard.

"Oh yeah handsome, just wait till I get you in my bed" He smirked at his own reflection.

Just then he heard the sound to the changing rooms open, his hand quickly shot up from his thigh, not wanting anyone to see his moment of lust.

He watched in the mirror as Jayce rounded the corner, his massive and wide shoulders causing him to bump into subway tiled wall. A massive smile lit up on Jayce's face as he saw Tyson standing there.

"Yep" Jayce yelled out

Dylan quickly followed behind and began walking towards Tyson, not that he thought much of it.

"Grab his left Dylan?"

"No worried Jayce"

Tyson was shocked as the two hulking bodybuilders suddenly grabbed hold of his arms and used what felt like all of their strength to sandwich him between them.

"h-HEY WHAT THE FUCK GET OFF" Tyson struggled and squirmed to get out of there grip but it felt like he was being pressed between two stone walls, he was unable to do anything other than pathetically kick his legs.

Just then Tyson heard the door to the changing rooms lock as Mark rounded the corner.

"Mark!, tell your fucking boys to let me go!"

The three bodybuilder's laughed as Mark walked closer holding a strange metal container in his hand that resembled a protein shaker.

"Hey lil dude" Said Mark with a big smirk across his face

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THREE WANT" Tyson snapped.

"to prove you wrong man" Jayce whispered

'w-what" Tyson continued to flounder and squirm to no avail

"you said being a bodybuilder sucked, well we are gonna prove you wrong" Dylan smirked tightly squeezing Tyson's arms

"h-how, Im not gonna start bodybuilding because you three threaten me"

"oh there is no threat bud, we have got something we want to try but dont know about the side effects wanna test it"

"ARE YOU GONNA JAB MY ASS FULL OF ROIDS" Tyson squeaked pathetically

"no dude, of course not" Said Mark

"we already know the side effects to roids" laughed Jayce

Mark grabbed onto Tyson's perfect hair and forcefully pulled his head back, Tyson couldn't see but he felt Jayce wrap his giant muscular arm around his pinning his between Jayce's bulky bicep and forearm and grabbing his cheeks forcing his jaw open.

"bottoms up pretty boy" Mark said as he flicked the cap off the contained with his thumb and shoved the mouth piece into Tyson's mouth.

"MMMMM -MMMM -MMMMMMM!!!!!!" Tyson tried to yell but his mouth was full of a strange thick liquid.

Mark dropped the contained and grabbed Tyson's nose still forcing the container to his lips

"gotta drink if you wanna breathe buddy"

Tyson couldn't hold it any longer

GULP...GULP...GULP.....GULP

Tyson sucked down what was in his mouth and what continued to pour from the container, when the last drop was drunk and all he could taste was air the three bodybuilders all let go in unison and Tyson dropped to the ground gasping for air.

"How long does it take to work Mark?"

"errr container says a few minutes for a start and a week for full effects"

Tyson couldn't concentrate on what the three were talking about, his body began to feel like it was being super heated, like his muscles and bones were being fried into pudy.

Tyson's hand began to tremble, as he looked at it pressed against the cold tiled floor he noticed his thumb enlarging, getting longer and thicker, it spread to all his fingers and his hand, at first he thought it was an allergic reaction but it wasn't puffy or fat, it was hard solid and defined, like all the muscles in his hands were suddenly expanding, he watched as his handed swelled up to the size of dinner plates as veins in his arms and forearms pumped in sync with his heart beat.

His forearms stared growing outwards and he felt his already tight and pumped biceps ache as they swelled even bigger. Seeing his reflection in the mirror he looked like a bad art project as different parts of his body were swelling with size and different times, his shoulders got wider as his calves got bigger, his pecs inflated as his feet grew out of his shoes, his abs bloated into a semi roid gut as his quads quickly filled with blood, and his ass pumped up into a big meaty globe as his traps crept up his back swallowing his necks.

after just a few minutes the three bodybuilders were stunned looking down at the sweaty bulky mess that was Tyson on the floor of the changing room.

Tyson had watched the whole thing in the mirror but still he couldn't recognise himself, what had happened, what they did to him.

He looked like one of them, a bodybuilder.

"w-what did you do to me" Tyson moaned, out of breath and out of energy

"damn, he got huge so quick, and he still has a week to go?"

"please, no, no bigger, turn me back"

the three bodybuilders began to have a conversation around Tyson like he wasn't even there as he tried to pick himself up off the floor. A few minutes passed and Tyson finally stood up. He felt uncomfortable, muscles he didn't even know where near each other rubbed up against each other like every aspect of his body was fighting for space.

Tyson looked at himself horrified in the mirror at the big bulky freak he had become.

"oh fuck..m..my perfect body" he turned to the three men behind him "please, please you gotta turn me back"

"you still got a week of growin left bud" Mark replied

"PLEASE I CAN'T GET BIGGER"

Jayce smirked trying to contain his laughter

"Look dude, we said we were gonna show you how being a bodybuilder is awesome, let it go for a week and we'll check back in and if you still hate it, we'll turn you back"

Tyson turned back to his reflection and flexed, freaked out by his bicep being larger than his own head.

"see, its already awesome, see you later dude"

The three bodybuilders started walking out of the changing room

"no WAIT!!"

Tyson ran over to his bag feeling the weight of his new body with every step and feeling his hard muscles bounce. He leant over and swung his bag over his shoulder. He watched as the door closed behind the three and he ran to catch up. Every step was a chore, it was like an entire workout for just one leg to hold up the weight of his new massive body.

By the time he reached the door Tyson doubled over gasping for air, he placed his giant meaty hand on the wall and slid down the the floor, he had only run a few feet but it felt like he had just done and three hours of cardio without a break, he felt the sweat running down his back and struggled to come up with a reason anyone would want to be this big, why guys would dedicate their lives to become titans.

it took 15 minutes, for Tyson to catch his breath and stand up again and by the time that happened the three he was after were already gone, he walked through the gym defeated hoping nobody would recognise him. He made it to the turn gate and as he went to go through he felt a hard pressing against his shoulders. Not at all used to his new size Tyson hadn't adjusted the angle that he approached the gate and found himself stuck between the two steel bars. Tyson pushed with his back leg but didn't realise the power behind his colossal quads as he easily pushed himself out but he couldn't stop the moment and he came tumbling forward face first onto the floor in front and multiple gym attendants.

"woah, you okay big guy" one of them asked,

Tyson looked up and saw the other two doing their best not to laugh.

"yeah I'm fine!" Tyson tried to get up as fast as he could but the sheer weight of his frame meant it was an awkward step by step process that took almost a whole minute.

Tyson quickly raced out the doors as fast as his could but once again misjudged his giant muscles and his two shoulders slammed into the automatic doors not realising they weren't wide enough for him. A loud bang rang out and Tyson looked back as the glass automatic doors wobbled and shook, and ounce more pressure and they would have surely crashed down around him.

Tyson waddled through the car park desperate to get to his car. Swinging open the door he quickly realised why he had never seen a bodybuilder in a sleek sports car, he didn't fit, just one leg stepped in and there wasn't any more room for him to squeeze in. He tried everything, moving the seat back, moving the wheel up, but still he didn't fit. After about 10 minutes of doing everything he could think of to get in he just decided to force his way in.

Sliding into the car he felt cramped, and when he closed the driver's door it bounced off his arm and swung back open denting the car next to him. Tyson tried again leaning all the way into his car and shutting the door. It shut but as he sat back up he found himself on an awkward angle to the wheel, he tried to adjust himself to roll down the window so he could stick his arm out and get more space but as he placed his arm down on the leather seat to push his own body out the way he heard a loud tearing. His clothes didn't feel loser and he couldn't see what had torn but it sounded bad...

When Tyson arrived home he squeezed himself out of his car, it felt like being freed from a sardine can but as he turned around to shut his door he had found the source of the tearing noise from earlier, in the centre of the seat, directly under where he was, was now a large split right down the leather, seats that cost over a thousand dollars to fix split apart like paper, and that wasn't the worst of it, he looked at the lower back of the seat to see how the leather had warped and swollen from the amount of sweat that had been pressed against it.

"AW MAN" Tyson moaned slammed his car door, not realising the force his arms were able to put behind it and as the door lodged into place his hand carried the momentum behind it straight into the metal of the car leaving a large dent from his palm.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME"

Tyson stormed over to his front door just wanting the day to end. He pulled up his keys to the front door and fumbled for a few minutes as he struggled to sort though them with his massive meaty fingers, finally he got in the door and shut it behind him as gently as he could which still resulted in a slam.

His stomach let out a loud groan, he had never felt so hungry so sudden in his life, Tyson tried to walk to the kitchen but realised it was more of a waddle has his massive muscular thighs slammed into each other. Arriving in front of his fridge he opened it up and grabbed one of his already made meals out and placed it in the microwave to heat up. He watched in spinning round and heard his stomach grumble as the 2 minutes felt like an entirety. Finally he heard the beep and opened up the microwave to devour his meal. What normally would have left him feeling full for hours didn't even make a dent in his hunger. Tyson opened up his fridge and moved on to his next meal without even heating it up, then another, then a protein shake to wash it down, then another meal and a couple apples, along with a banana or two, and of course he had to pull some of the muffins out of the freezer to defrost to have a bit later.

Tyson sat on his couch, feeling groggy and finally full. He looked around him, plates, protein shakers, wrappers and plastic containers were spread out all over his lounge room from the floor to the coffee table. He felt so heavy he didn't want to get up, he just wanted to pass out on his couch and go to sleep. As his eyes began to drift close...

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

The loudest belch he had ever heard forced him to jolt awake.

"aw fuc-uuuuUUURRPPP, this place is a mess"

Tyson finally realised he had trashed his lounge room in his feeding frenzy, he got up to try and clean but he didn't get very far. His body was so massive it was hard to move between his furniture and it was hard for him to constantly bend down to pick stuff up. On his second trip back from the kitchen to clean the last of the mess he finally noticed where he had been sitting, and the enormous sweat patch pressed into the fabric.

He pulled his tight tank top out from his body realising it looked like he had never washed it in his life.

"god, I need a fucking shower"

He made his way down the hall to the bathroom where he was shocked by his own reflection. He knew he had been turned into a hulking behemoth but, he looked like a completely different person now. His tank top was tight and clung to his body as his pecs hung out the sides. It was covered in sweat patches and strains from spilt protein shakes and food. His face was covered in a coat of sweat and his hair was oiler than he'd ever seen before. Tyson's gut churned as he let out another belch. He suddenly felt a tightness in his pants and he got hard.

"what the fuck..."

Tyson lifted up one arm to flex his bicep, he watched the sweat running down from his pits to his lats, he swallowed a quick gulp of air expecting maybe a small burp but was greeted with a massive room shaking belch. Tyson couldn't help it, he got rock solid staring at his sweaty body and hearing his own manly belching.

He worked his hand down awkwardly to his dick and started to pleasure himself.

He couldn't work it out, he missed his perfect body, he missed his old self, he was grossed out by being such a freak but god he was too horny to not please himself.

Right before his big moment he felt a wave of heat surge out into his body, his clothes felt tighter and suddenly the left strap of his tank top snapped as his shoulder, pec and arm practically doubled in size.

"AAH NO, NO NOT AGAIN"

Tyson watched as his dirty tank was torn to shreds by his growing body. His shorts felt tighter and tighter, soon he felt the sound of ripping fabric. As he turned to the side to inspect his growing legs he saw as his muscled ass split his pants in the back and the fabric quickly tore through making his shorts look like a bad loin clothe prop from a Halloween costume.

"OH FUCK NO, STOP, STOP AHHHH"

Tyson could only watch as his body continued to rapidly grow in the mirror...

--------------

3 weeks later

Tyson leant back on the workout bench groaning and gasping for air. It was the most he had ever lifted, not that he wanted to get bigger but it was the only thing he could do with his day at this point.

He heard the noise of 3 guys cheering as Mark, Jayce and Dyaln approached him.

"HEY BIG MAN" Said Mark

"oh great, what do you guys want"

"relax big guy, just wanted to bring you a snack" Dylan laughed as he pulled out a paper bag of drive through crispy chicken and handed it to Tyson.

"Dont forget to wash it down" said Jayce handing him a protein shake

Tyson didn't have the will power to hold back, his new muscle and size burnt so much fuel from simple existing he was practically starving constantly. He immediately reached into the bag and started eating as much as he could as fast as he could, washing it down with a swig of the protein shake, only taking breaks to gasp for air.

A river of chocolate protein ran down his cheek and dripped onto his XXXL tank top, which looked more like a medium crop top on him.

A young handsome gym attendant walked over to the group with a smile on his face.

"hey guys, just a reminder, you can't eat like that in here save it for outside okay" He smiled as he looked straight into Tyson's eyes.

Tyson's mind was racing, this guy was the most handsome guy he had ever seen in his life, we wanted to apologise for being such a slob, hell, he wanted to ask the guy on a date.

Tyson rubbed the crumbs and protein from his mouth away with the back of his hand and opened his mouth. Immediately he gritted his teeth and almost by instinct at this point cocked the side of his mouth open.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPP!!

Tyson couldn't help but belch and burp as he struggled to get a word out.

"bro..that's nasty" the gym attendant laughed as he walked away.

Mark, Jayce and Dylan all erupted with laughter.

"DUUUUUUDDEEEE" yelled Dylan

"You aren't gonna get a date like that dude I tell you that" laughed Jayce

"They probably wouldn't date him even if he didn't burp every couple of minutes, I mean who wants to date a bodybuilder freak right guys" Mark laughed as he rubbed Tyson's shoulders

"Yeah, you're right Mark, nobody wants a freak like Tyson" Dylan chuckled.

Tyson couldn't control it, the sound of their laughter, the way the three called him a freak and a slob. His dick got hard and he felt as a mixture of pre and cum leaked into his underwear.

They were never going to change him back, he was going to be stuck as this good for nothing muscle pig, forever....

he threw himself back down on the bench..

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation #musk #muscle morph

1K notes · View notes

chlorinecake · 5 months ago

Note

am in love w ur work<3 can u do an enha x reader ff, where they're dating a very feminine y/n who's also insecure? yk like them comforting y/n etc etc?

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

──── 🪽 𓂃 𓈒 step one: date 1 / 7 members of 엔하이픈

🪞 ( . . path to bookshelf ◍ ) 𓄼 be the best version of you .ᐟ g𝓮nre. fluff, comfort, est. dating, fem.r ﹙ 🧺 . . . ﹚. 美しさ skinship & kisses 350 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽s each ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 for my melanated queens; “God, I look terrible in this picture,” you sighed miserably at the couple photo before you, zooming in closer on your screen to get a better look. “I'm literally lost in the background…”

“Let me see,” your boyfriend offered, bracing himself behind you as he peered over your shoulder. “Baby… you look beautiful here, what’re you talking about?” He practically chuckled, somewhat humored that you thought the picture was bad when it was clearly fine.

“I’m talking about my complexion,” you sighed, shutting off your phone out of frustration, “Maybe we should only go on dates when it’s sunny outside so I don’t look like a shadow next to you by time we take a picture…” That's when Heeseung felt his heart drop at your words, pouty lips partingas he asked, “Why would you say such a thing, ____? I love how healthy your complexion looks…”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, walking from behind you and guiding your chin towards his. “Did someone say something to make you feel this way, love?” You struggled to meet his sincere doe eyes as your own weak ones were on the verge of tears.

With a crack in your voice, you finally spoke, “No, Heeseung… I’ve always felt this way, I just never said anything til now…”

“And are those insecurities motivated by your own standards or by what society has poisoned you to believe?”

You got quiet at his question, knowing deep down that you never had an issue with your skin color and that it was something the world had made you feel...

“Look at your beautiful hands in mine,” he continued, shattering your inner thoughts as he drew your attention to his hands holding yours. “Please don’t think your skin color is something we need to work around… especially not for a silly picture…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your stomach flutter as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your wrist. “So,” you started in a soft voice, his gentle eyes looking back up at you, “can I at least delete the picture then?”

“Fine,” Heeseung smiled through a complying breath, wiping the moisture from the corner of your eye with his thumb, “but only because I’m planning a date for us to take more photos later…”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 for the frequent bad hair days; “Gosh, this is why I need to go bald one day,” you sulked, tossing your hairbrush to the ground in a fit of exhaustion, “otherwise, I'll never be able to make my hair look right...”

“It looks pretty to me, baby,” Jay smiled upon meeting you in the bathroom, the frustrated clatter of your hair products having caught his attention. “What style are you going for anyways?” Your boyfriend hugged you from behind, placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

Reaching for your phone that sat on the bathroom vanity, you showed it to Jay. “Here’s the reference picture,” you sighed, feeling yourself calm down slightly as he held you in his arms, “I just have so many fly-aways today that the gel won’t even hold them in place...”

Jay's eyes scanned your reflection in the mirror, comparing it back and forth to the reference photo, “Easy fix, princess. We’ll just have to buy better products.”

“But it’s not just that… my split ends—”

“Then I’ll schedule you an appointment at the salon today…”

Your shoulders fell at your boyfriend's words. You knew he was only trying to make things better, but you still felt insecure. “Hey, look at me ____,” he whispered, voice light as a feather as he caressed your side, “my girl always deserves the best... especially if it’ll make her feel better about herself… got it?”

A smile spread across your face as Jay's fingers playfully tickled your waist.

In reality, no, you couldn’t get your hair right every time, but the hair you had suited you best, and simply required a little more tender love and care…

“Sooo, no salon date today?” He asked, watching your features.

You scoffed at his question, “No, we’re definitely still going… I’ll just make sure to embrace my natural hair this time.”

“And as you should, baby,” Jay smirked, kissing you one last time before his hands left your side, “I’ll go get the car keys...”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 for the curvy girls; “Whatchya lookin' for?” Jake asked from the bed, watching as you searched through your shared drawers for anything big enough to swamp your entire body. “I’m too big for all of my clothes now, so I need to find something that's large but still cute...”

“Oh...” your boyfriend's voice trailed off as he got out of bed to meet you on the floor. “That’s why I always let you wear my hoodies, baby. Here,” he offered, pulling the white hoodie over his head and revealing a bit of his toned stomach before he shimmyied the oversized hoodie over your head. “So... can I cuddle with my adorable girlfriend all day like we planned now?”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, taking Jake's hand in yours as he helped you up from the ground, “Yes, but only if you promise not to put your hands on my stomach like you usually do...”

His eyes widened at your odd request, “I thought you liked it when I cuddled your tummy?”

He pulled you against his chest, but the physical contact only made you squirm with discomfort, “Please don’t call it that, baby…” The words left your mouth with such pain, his heart sinking at the sad look that washed over your features…

“I don’t get it ____, what’s going on?” Your boyfriend pressed with concern, releasing you from his hold to simply hold your hands.

“It's not like you'd understand where I’m coming from anyways...”

He frowned at your words, just as you watched with weak eyes while he pulled out a top from your drawer, holding it before your eyes. “You see this? You’re not too big for your clothes, but your clothes are too small for you…”

“Yea, but I used to be able to fit all of those…” You sulked in defense.

“And your body is just going through a normal change and has granted you with gorgeous curves… all we have to do now is accommodate for them..”

You thought on his words for a moment, a feeling of guilt washing over you after you realized you'd snapped on him earlier when he was only trying to help.

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, pulling you back into his warmth before whispering, “Please, be more kind to your body, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded with a sniffle, tightening your arms around him.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 for the giggles often hidden behind one’s palm; You and Sunghoon were sitting on the couch in your shared apartment living room, legs intertwined in a string of flesh like always as and it was your turn to laugh when your boyfriend retold one of the craziest stories from his prior days as an Italian restaurant waiter.

“And the guy had such a nerve to order 150 bucks worth of steak to then leave a measly fifty cent tip…” his voice trailed off, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to maintain your laughter, a shy hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said while giggling, cheeks hurting a bit from trying to hold back your emotions, “you can continue…”

He looked at you with confusion, his thick, dark brows screwing in the center of his face, “Wait… why’re you apologizing for laughing, baby?”

“Oh…I…” you started, startled by his question, “I guess… I just don’t like hearing my laugh sometimes?… plus it makes my face scrunch up and look all weird when I smile…”

“Stop, your laugh is gorgeous and so is your smile, what’re you talking about?” He scoffed, leaning back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you sighed, untangling your legs from his and bring your knees to your chest.

“Sure, but that’s only part of the reason,” Sunghoon corrected, readjusting himself on the couch so he could be closer to you as he spoke, “it’s true, y’know?” He said before tickling your ankle, making you smile once again, “I bet that makes you feel better already, doesn’t it?”

You looked down before meeting his sincere gaze, feeling your heart flutter in your chest as he squished your face together with his hand.

“Yes… it does,” you giggled through the pouty lips his fingers forced you to make, making him chuckle a bit to himself before leaning in to peck your forehead first, then your nose, before finally, your lips…

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 for the spots makeup can't conceal; “Ugh,” you groaned with frustration, letting out a sigh as you aggressively wiped at your face with a makeup wipe, “this foundation is supposed to be full coverage!... God, now I'm gonna have to leave the house looking like a complete troll...”

“Excuse me?” Sunoo asked from beside you while adjusting his tie, a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes despite the concerned nature of his voice.

“I don't mean to be dramatic, but I swear the mirror hates me...” You exclaimed, tossing the dirty makeup wipe in the trash can while internally dreading the fact that you were having a terrible hormonal breakout today.

Sunoo's delicate hands left his neck tie to grab the package of wipes and pull out a few for you.

“The mirror has no feelings, sweetie... only you do,” your boyfriend chuckled at the pouty look on your face, guiding your head upward as he gently wiped away the remaining smears of makeup from your skin.

“Besides, you don't need to wear all this stuff anyway,” he whispered this time, the most loving look in his eyes as he caressed your cheek, “you're naturally gorgeous to me...”

He let his thumb graze over your lower lip before leaning down a little further from where he stood, pressing a tender kiss to your plush lips.

“You're lucky you didn't turn into a frog after doing that,” you giggled, playfully smacking his shoulder as you both noticed the pink hue rising to your cheeks... a hue that would've otherwise been covered by makeup.

Smiling at your words, he handed you a bar of soap and a towel, “I'm glad we don't have time for you to contour or conceal anything, so lets get the rest of this stuff off your face so we don't end up late for our date...”

You took the soap in your palms, lathering it together under the running faucet water as a new feeling arose in your chest upon looking at yourself in the mirror. No, you didn't have perfect skin, but you were still beautiful and loved, which in this moment, was all that mattered.

“Thank you, Sunny,” you said, massaging the soap into your face as he walked away from you, “I'll be out in a minute...”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 for the hairy girls; “Shit,” you cursed under your breath while rummaging through your things. “What’s wrong, baby?” Jungwon asked, approaching you from behind with a smile on his face.

“I can’t find my razor,” you stated plainly, not even meeting his eyes as you closed the suitcase you were just searching... “Oh,” he started, cat-like eyes rounding slightly, “you can always use my razor if you want to for now then…”

“Please, I’d need like three of your razors to shave my arms properly,” you huffed, stepping out of the closet and walking toward the window, “why’d I have to be born like this?”

“Baby… don’t say that, body hair is completely normal…”

You caught a glimpse of your unibrow in the bedroom window, turning away with frustration as your sad eyes met his, “So then why doesn’t it feel normal?”

“Because, sweetie… you haven’t embraced it yet,” he continued, taking your hands in his before drawing a feather-light line from your wrist to your elbow, “your arms look fine, okay? And if anyone doesn’t agree with that, they can take it up with my taekwondo skills…”

You smiled cheekily at his words, “So… I guess that means I’m getting kicked first then, right?”

“Never,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “but… I’ll be more than willing to give you a lil kissy kiss instead…”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt Jungwon snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, peppering kiss after kiss along the exposed skin. “Yang Jungwon, I command you to stop this madness right now!” You giggled playfully, stomach already hurting a bit from how much his tickly lips made you laugh…

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 for humble members of the itty bitty titty committee; It was just like any other ordinary night you'd spend with Riki. You two were cuddled up on the couch, sharing a bag of snacks as you browsed through the anime section on Netflix. Y’all had already binge watched just about every single series worth your time, but now, you found yourselves watching any and every trailer in search for your next big obsession.

You watched as your boyfriend flipped through the anime section with the remote in his hand, nothing but ample bosomed female characters flashing before your eyes.

Yes, those sorts of visuals were completely normal in anime, and yes, you and Niki usually loved simping over the provocatively animated characters together...

However, this time when he got to talking, it only made you feel insecure about yourself as you stared down at your own seemingly feeble chest, a tiny pout rising to your face.

“Riki,” you asked shyly while the trailer kept playing, “do you think my boobs are too small?”

He almost immediately whipped his head to face you, “What?”

“N-nothing…” you lied, looking back at the TV as if nothing happened.

That's when your boyfriend paused the show, “No, you definitely said something, ____,” he corrected, putting the remote down and letting his hand find your knee to comfort you.

You let out a sigh, resting your hand over his while looking into his eyes this time, “Would you like me better if I had bigger boobs?… be honest…”

“You're asking me this because of all the busty anime chicks we just saw, aren't you?” he asked back, which only made you sulk even more.

“I know, it's stupid but-”

“No, it's a normal feeling to have, ____... but trust me, your chest is the perfect size, babe... they're like... dainty little cherries, y’know?...”

Even though you knew he was only trying to cheer you up, you couldn’t help but side eye him in his moment. “Wowww, how romantic of you, Nishimura,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like it when I compare you to foods... especially when I call you jellybean,” he smiled, right before smothering your cheek with the biggest kiss he could muster as you giggled beneath him, knowing that somewhere deep down in your heart, he was 100% right...

tysm for reading this quick lil fic !! ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆ and feel free to check out my masterlist for more !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s

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redvexillum · 1 month ago

Text

Thank you @alekminecraft for the request! You are right, we do need more Vox x Reader and I am more than happy to oblige! *waggles brow* This story is dedicated to @mraprilfools, honestly, his comment on the discord server literally birthed the whole smut scene for this story! Thank you boo!

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, dual POV, rough s♡x, possessive!vox, jealous!vox, established relationship, misunderstanding, multiple ♡rgasm (f!receiving), gentle s♡x, miscommunication, aftercare, vox is bad with feelings, reader is bad with feelings, prequel to the story anniversary, related to mandatory overtime universe, using s♡x instead of talking it out, fluff, romance, vox being a simp

✨️ recommended to read mandatory overtime and anniversary first for a fulsome experience ✨️

The shift in your demeanour was subtle at first – just a slight straightening of your spine, an easier smile that seemed to find its way to your lips unbidden. But as the days passed, you could feel it blooming, like a secret garden hidden deep within your chest.

You stood taller, shoulders pulled back in a confidence that felt new, almost unfamiliar. You’d catch glimpses of yourself on reflective surfaces, taking that extra moment to admire the polish of your makeup, the gentle curve of a perfectly placed smile. Clothes became something more than fabric; each piece felt like a promise, a flicker of anticipation. Maybe, you thought, he’d like this colour on me.

At Voxtek, your patience with your less-than brilliant colleague was almost saintly, though in your mind, a quiet laugh reminded you that perhaps you weren’t quite so charitable as to call yourself a saint. Still, each silly mishap, each minor annoyance was met with a grace that even surprised you.

How different you’d become! And for a reason so dangerously thrilling: you were dating your boss, the enigmatic Vox himself. It was deliciously reckless, a violation of company policies that held no real meaning here in Hell. Life – if you could call it that – had never been so thrillingly complicated.

Your heart would flutter each time you checked your VPhone, hoping to find a message from him, something to acknowledge that this secret connection wasn’t only yours to nurture. But as the days crept by into weeks then into two months, your smile waned.

You told yourself that he was busy, that running a successful business didn’t leave room for constant messages and weekend dates. Yet, the gnawing ache in your chest wasn’t as easily consoled. Day after day, the once – sweet anticipation soured, replaced with something dark, bruised. You felt yourself beginning to doubt, the loneliness slipping to quiet moments like a poison.

Weeks turned into a month. The space he once filled with his clever messages, his small gestures, was emptier than ever. The pang of it felt like a betrayal. Was he treating you like some passing amusement, like those nameless sinners who drifted in and out of Valentino’s entourage? Each unanswered day may you feel more dispensable, more invisible, as if you were just a shadow flitting through the corner of his life.

You fought back the frustration, resisted the urge to march into his office, to demand something – anything – that would remind you that this wasn’t a dream gone wrong. You told yourself that in Hell, beggars couldn’t be choosers. And yet, you weren’t just a beggar. You were his partner

...or so you’d thought.

And so, as the days blurred into one another, resentment simmered, joined by the creeping insecurity that maybe he’d rekindled things with that damned moth demon Valentino. Your mind churned, frustration blooming into something darker. The thought twisted in your heart, each new day of silence leaving it tighter, angrier. You couldn’t keep swallowing the ache, the anger. You needed answers, clarity, a sense of what you meant to him.

So today, you decided, was the day. No more silence. No more excuses. You would speak to Vox, and finally, figure out where you stood – whether you were his partner or just another fleeting entertainment.

You climbed the stairs to Vox’s office, each step fuelled by a fierce resolve that burned hotter with every unanswered day, every silent hour he’d left you waiting. Your coworkers scattered at the sight of your face, expression flashing with shock, maybe even fear, though you barely registered it. Drama queens. Let them gape if they wanted. Right now, nothing else mattered but to reach him.

You didn’t knock; you weren’t in the mood for niceties, and you knew, oh, how well you knew that he disliked it. Your petty rebellion made your pulse quicken, a small, desperate thrill that drowned out the whisper of doubt. The door parted, and you crossed the bridge to the circular platform where Vox was stationed.

Rows upon rows of screens surrounded him, their dim blue glow casting shadows across his angular face as he surveyed his empire, Hell unfolding in fractals across the monitors.

“Vox,” you called, voice sharp, slicing through the ambient hum of machinery.

He didn’t turn. His shoulders tightened, the only tell that he’d even heard you. “Not now,” he bit out, his tone a frigid slap, cutting through your bravado with painful precision.

The words hit you harder than you’d expected. That coldness, so unlike him when he looked at you, was suddenly stripped of the warmth you’d grown so used to, and it left you feeling hollow, exposed. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you forced your heart to harden. You wouldn’t be silenced.

Not this time.

“I think now is a great time, considering you haven’t replied to any of my messages. Or my emails,” you said, folding your arms across your chest, the gesture an attempt to stop your heart from pounding out of your rib cage.

He didn’t move, didn’t even look at you. “Was it personal or business?” he snapped, his voice as sharp and unfeeling as cold steel.

A painful tightness squeezed your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs. Standing there, in the empty chasm of his silence, feeling the weight of his apathy pressing down on you...it made you feel small, like something easily brushed aside. Your throat tightened, your eyes stung, and you cursed yourself for the weakness. You knew Vox; you’d known from the beginning he was ruthless, an overlord who ruled with an iron hand and a closed heart.

But you’d thought – no, you’d believed – that what lay between you both was different. You’d given him your heart, laid yourself bare before him, trusting that he’d shelter you, protect you, even if he never said it aloud. The confession of love you’d shared a few months back echoed bitterly in your mind. You’d been so naïve. So stupid. Foolish to think you could crack that iron mask and see the man beneath.

Yet, despite the ache, despite the icy barb, you couldn’t just leave. You’d stayed by his side for years now, weathering his tempers and tantrums, and your loyalty had only deepened. Taking a steadying breath, you forced yourself to try again, voice quivering despite your best effort. “Listen, if you’re busy right now, maybe we could schedule something? Like, maybe a meeting...or even,” you gulped, feeling the sense of baring your heart to him once more, “a d-date, ‘cause you know,” you fiddled with your fingers, “it’s been so long.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, the dark room pressing in on you, his back still turned as if you were beneath his notice. You fought the crushing weight, each second eroding what little courage you had left.

Finally, he spoke, his voice slow, dripping with disdain. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

His claws tore into the metal console, the screech of rending steel tearing through the air. The unexpected violence jolted you, and your shoulders flinched despite yourself.

“N-no, I wasn’t trying to tell you to-” you stammered, the humiliation sinking in, but he didn’t let you finish.

“Shut up. You’re nothing but my personal assistant,” he sneered, standing up, his head lowered as if his own words repulsed him. His shoulders trembled, and you saw the fury emanating from him like a physical force. “Easily replaceable, and it seems you don’t realize that!”

The monitors flickered, their glow casting strange, stuttering shadows around him, as if even the machine rejected his rage. His voice thundered through the room, harsh, merciless, each word a cold, jagged dagger that sliced into you. “All these lowlifes telling me what to do, people fucking screwing up, leaving me to clean up their fucking messes. All of them...useless!”

With a sickening crunch, he drove his fist into the console, a crater splintering into the metal as sparks and a discharge of electricity exploded around him. The smell of burnt wiring and the sharp, crackling silence left in the wake of his outburst was suffocating.

Your head spun, your mind desperately grasping for a reason, an answer to where this torrent of bitterness had come from. But his words sank in, piercing one by one, relentless. They reached deep, ripping open an ache you hadn’t even known was there until now. Shameful heat stung your eyes, and you fought it, fought the humiliating swell of tears that blurred your vision. It was like being scolded by someone you’d always looked up to – hard, unyielding, like a father too busy to care.

“That’s uncalled-” You tried to retort, voice thick, but the words caught in your throat, and suddenly, with a sizzling snap, the monitors blew out, plunging the room into pitch-black darkness. The faint, ghostly blue emergency light by the gangplank flickered on, casting an eerie glow to the room.

“Leave,” he said, the single word soft but deadly. He turned, and his red eyes glowed like smouldering coals through the shadows, his face lit with the stark, cruel illumination of his TV screen. Any trace of kindness, of even that dark humour, was gone. There was only contempt. “Unless you want me to fire you, leave now.”

You stood frozen, staring at the jagged crack that ran from the left corner of his screen, but it was his words, like punches in your gut, that left you hollowed. You weren’t his lover at the moment. Hell, you weren’t even his coworker. No, the harsh truth settled like lead in your chest.

You were nothing but his underling.

Someone small. Someone worthless. Someone utterly dispensable.

The realization sat thick and heavy, choking any response, your mind going blank under the tidal wave of hurt and emptiness. Pain throbbed in your chest, raw and unrelenting, filling every corner with your being, drowning you.

Numbly, you managed a small nod, then turned away, your legs moving stiffly as if through deep water. Each step away pulled something else loose inside of you, a painful unravelling that blurred your vision until you couldn't even see the door. But you refused to let the tears fall – not here, not in front of him.

It was only when you reached the hall, away from the heavy weight of his gaze, that your knees buckled, and you pressed your back against the door. You felt the burn of hot tears slide down your cheeks, one after another. A shaky breath escaped your lips, and your eyes closed, surrendering to the torrent, each tear like a wound laid bare. Appalled, you brought a sleeve up to your face, scrubbing at the wetness furiously.

How had he reduced you to this? To a sobbing, broken mess over a few, careless words? It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

It shouldn’t hurt like this.

But the ache bloomed in your chest, expanding, each throb of sorrow underscored by a seed of something dark and new – anger, resentment, a furious, defiant spark that fought against the hurt. You looked down at your shoes, and the heels he’d once complimented, the ones that now felt sharp and constricting. They were like little cages that you’d endured for him, simply because he’d liked them on you.

You were going to throw away these shoes tonight.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, low and hollow.

He played you.

The thought twisted around in your mind, cruel and undeniable, as you turned toward the washroom. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, your reflection stared back at you, each flaw accentuated in the artificial brightness. Smudged makeup, streaked mascara – nothing but a sad, painted mask of a clown.

He’d played you well.

You’d fallen for him, heart-first, with no hesitation. You’d handed over your trust, your loyalty, all the softness you’d fought to keep in a place like Hell, believing he’d hold it with care.

And he’d only turned it all to ash.

Another tear slipped down your cheek, absurdly out of place as laughter bubbled up from the pit of your stomach. If you meant so little to him, if he could ignore you for months then easily dismiss you as just an underling, a disposable pawn, then...then maybe...

The logical choice was obvious. You should quit, walk away without a backward glance, cut him out like a cancer. But even now, the idea of leaving tugged painfully at your heart. It meant never seeing him again, never feeling the rush of his dark presence filling a room, and somehow...somehow, you weren’t ready to face that void.

But no. If he wanted an assistant, then that’s precisely what you’d give him – nothing more. You’d be perfect, professional, every action polished and distant. The thought brought the faintest glimmer of satisfaction, though even as your lips curved into a grim smile, your tears betrayed you, slipping down with a quiet, unrelenting sorrow.

You just needed to kill your heart. That was all. Easy enough, right? You’d done it before, hadn’t you? Built those walls back up, piece by piece, every time someone close to you treated you like an afterthought, like an inconvenience.

It was survival. The only way you knew how to survive in this world, and, apparently, in Hell.

Taking a shaky breath, you reached for the sink, splashing cold water over your face to chase away the remnants of emotion, scrubbing away the streaks of makeup until your skin was bare. You gathered yourself, smoothing back your hair and fixing what could be fixed, piece by piece, until the person staring back at you looked composed – untouched, unreadable.

But when you finally met your own gaze, there was a hollowness there that hadn’t been before. You stood straighter, your shoulders squared, your lips set in an easy smile.

Only your eyes betrayed you – cold, shuttered, and closed tightly around the world.

Vox’s breath was ragged, a bitter edge on every exhale. He couldn’t remember how long it had been – weeks? Months?- the days bled together in a haze of stress and fury. Valentino had been on a reckless tear, sabotaging the company’s reputation with one scandal after another, Val’s prized puppet Angel Dust constantly being the catalyst of Val’s reckless actions.

Frustration burned through him as he ran a hand over his cracked screen, the fresh memory of his latest, brutal confrontation with Val sending his jaw clenched tight. They'd nearly destroyed Vox’s penthouse this time, hurling words and blows, ripping the sleek veneer off his carefully curated life.

When you walked into his office, unannounced, his fragile self-control shattered. He wasn’t ready for you to see him, to glimpse the evidence of his struggle. The weakness scratched under his skin like a raw wound.

Shamed burned though him. What would you think if you saw him this way? The perfect, powerful, unbreakable Overlord...with a screen cracked from losing control. His pride buckled, a panicked voice in his head insisting he’d let you down, that you’d piece together every brutal fact.

He needed you to be gone, anywhere but here. He lashed out, voice dripping with all the anger and humiliation he felt, and he watched the sting in your eyes as his words did their job. You didn’t argue; you just left.

The silence in his office grew heavy, sinking deep into the cracks left by his outburst. The blue light of his monitors flickered erratically, casting shadows that mocked him in the silence he had demanded. As the scene replayed in his mind, he groaned, a dark wave of regret crashing over him.

Vox thought back to the night you’d laid in his arms, your head nestled on his chest, sharing your fears about how others viewed you. You were like him, caring about the way you were perceived by others.

You had been so open, so raw. You’d admitted you feared that your position as his assistant would always make you feel unworthy, that no matter how hard you worked, everyone would never see you for the brilliance and drive he adored. You’d worried that you would always be seen as his arm candy, not a partner.

He remembered the light in your eyes, the way you tried to brush it off, flustered at showing such vulnerability, how you’d laughed softly to cover it up. But Vox hadn’t forgotten. That moment had etched itself into him deeper than he’d realized. That was the night he’d started to consider the terrifying possibility that he didn’t just want you in his life – he wanted you by his side, forever.

The regret festered as he sat there alone, rubbing his forehead as he thought of how he’d fix it. He imagined the gifts and the plans he’d make to show you how much he truly cared. Maybe a day away from all of this with you, maybe a whole week dedicated just to you – anything to make up for the times he’d neglected you.

But when he finally saw you again, the person who greeted him wasn’t the same. It was like you’d drawn yourself up in armour. Your hair was swept up in a neat, impersonal bun. You wore plain, conservative clothes, all your personality hidden behind a wall of professionalism. Even your voice, usually warm with laughter and teasing, was clipped, cool, and indifferent.

You were perfect – impeccably efficient and guarded, just as you had been on your first day at Voxtek. But that warmth, that spark he craved...it was gone.

You glanced up from your screen, fingers pausing mid-keystroke. “Yes?” You asked, voice clipped, cold as steel. “How can I help you, sir?”

The word sliced into Vox. Sir. It had been months since you’d addressed him like that – so formal, so detached. The way you used to call him when he was just the boss, and you were just his assistant. He felt your anger in every syllable, but he forced himself to stand taller, clearing his throat as he revealed the bouquet of glass roses he’d crafted just for you. The petals, tinted a deep blue and shimmering with electric veins, pulsed with a soft, otherworldly hum. He’d infused his own energy into the glass, hoping you’d see the beauty, the effort, the love in it.

“Sunshine!” he tried, letting out a small, forced laugh as he placed the bouquet on your desk. “Look what I got for you.” He leaned against the edge of your desk, trying to meet your eyes, attempting to recapture the playful glint he adored. “Thought of you this morning,” he added a flirtatious grin, “and wondered if you might be free after work.”

Your face remained impassive. “Sorry, I’m not,” you said simply, your voice colder than he’d ever heard it.

He felt his heart sink, your rejection landing a bit too close to his memories of failed relationships. Time and space, he thought. She’s just still angry. She’ll come around...won’t she? Trying to smile, he forced a nod. “Right, right...well, maybe next time?”

“Mhm,” you replied with a nonchalant hum, your gaze already drifting back to your work. “Is that all, sir? I’d like to finish this project.”

Vox’s forced smile faltered, and he nodded stiffly. “Yep. That’s ...all.” He hesitated, hoping for a sign – any spark, any trace of the affection that once lit up your gaze. But you were a closed book, and he was left feeling like a stranger, the man who stood on the wrong side of your heart.

In a flicker of electricity, he vanished to the nearest security camera, leaving you to your silence.

But your silence lingered. You’d never come back to him.

Six months. Six long, aching months of sparse, hollow exchanges. He had hoped, counted the days, replayed your conversations in his mind, but each interaction became more distance.

Good morning, you’d say, and nothing more. All set on the report, you’d text, signing off with your usual efficiency.

He scrolled through the messages you’d sent before that fateful day: Good morning, sweetie; don’t work too hard, silly, I miss you, loser, with the tongue out face that always made him smile. Messaged he’d been too busy to respond to, too buried in his work, too tangled in Val’s mess.

Vox exhaled, tension twisting his gut. How long could he expect you to forgive him? How long did “time and space” mean? Six months...half a year...and you still felt like a stranger, slipping further and further away.

Anxiety tightened in his chest. He bounced his leg, drumming his claws against his desk. The thought of losing you, truly losing you, clawed at him. No, he thought, unable to bear the chill of your indifference. I won’t let you go. I’ll fix this.

Tomorrow, he’d planned to sweep you off your feet. A lavish dinner at Hell’s finest restaurant, endless gifts – a whole Hellsgem jewellery set, a new car from Voxtek’s latest line, every luxury he could think of to make you feel adored, desired. He’d even made arrangements for a personal assistant to help him plan it all, to ensure every detail was flawless.

But as the hours crawled by, the weight of your absence ate away at him. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t shake the relentless ache that only seemed to grow with every second. His heart raced, the fear too potent, too real.

Before he knew it, he’d shot up to his feet, a self-deprecating chuckle slipping out. Time and space...he thought, booting up his laptop. I think I’ve given her enough of that.

Vox’s finger flew over his laptop, scanning through the surveillance feeds until he found you. Relief washed over him at the sight of you – until he saw another man leaning far too close. His blood ran cold. His mind blanked, replaced with a singular thought that flared like lightning, transporting him instantly.

He appeared beside you with a crackle, his fury barely concealed behind a stiff smile. “Sunshine!” His voice was forced, his grin strained, desperate. “Didn’t think you’d be taking a break so soon!” He laughed, insincerity dripping over it. He reached out to place a possessive hand on your back, but you stepped away. He blinked, stunned.

Did you just...avoid him?

“It’s the end of the day, sir,” you replied, coolly, your expression as unreadable as stone. “Papermint and I were just heading out for dinner.”

Vox’s eyes darted to the other, unimportant, assistant, Papermint. He stared up at you, blushing like a love-struck fool. And then he noticed the look on your face – the way your eyes softened as you caught sight of his flustered expression, the delicate curve of your lips as you smiled.

It was a look Vox knew all too well, one he’d hoarded all for himself. His chest tightened, and he felt a flicker of rage ignite in him.

With a low snarl, Vox grabbed your wrist, and before you could react, pulled you with him in a flash of energy.

The moment you landed in his penthouse, you dropped to your knees, momentarily disoriented, your head reeling as you struggled to get your bearings. When you finally rose, fury blazed in your eyes, and you yanked your wrist from his grasp. “What the actual fuck, Vox?” you shouted, your voice a mix of shock and anger as you tried to smooth your dishevelled hair.

He gritted his teeth, his jaw tight. “I could ask you the same damn thing. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, you don’t get to pull this,” you spat, marching through his penthouse like you owned the place. You stormed into the bedroom and went straight to the vanity, sitting down in the same spot where, in quieter times, you’d start your mornings after spending the night together.

Frustration lined your face as you began undoing your hair, letting it fall loose. When you opened the drawer, you paused. Your eyes flickered with an unreadable expression as you stared at all the products you used, untouched. You grabbed a familiar bottle and pumped it into your hand, rubbing it into your hair to smooth all the frizzes from travelling with his power.

Silence stretched between you, thick and tense. Vox watched as you worked, your face flickering between confusion and anger in the mirror’s reflection. His anger simmered under the surface, his mind racing. She thinks she can flaunt that fool in front of me? His fists clenched, eyes narrowing as he kept his gaze locked on you.

Finally, you stood up, your hair glossy and perfect, every bit as stunning as the first day he’d laid eyes on you. With an icy calm, you muttered, “If you’ll excuse me,” and made for the door, high heels clicking defiantly across the floor.

Vox moved instantly, blocking the doorway with his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” his voice was low, demanding, his eyes flashing. “We need to talk.”

You laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Talk?” The word was venom on your tongue. “About what, boss?” you spat, glaring up at him with eyes that glowed with barely contained fury. “I finished my work for the day. You don’t get to tell me how to spend my free time. So, move. Now.”

Vox’s mouth opened, word momentarily failing him. He hadn’t expected this anger, this defiance, like you’d been holding it in for far too long. What’s happened to us? He took a breath, eyes darkening, and his grip tightened as he pulled you back into the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he snapped, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “You think you can just fucking walk away from me without a damn word about what you’re doing?”

In one swift movement, he turned you, guiding you toward the bed. “Sit,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for protest. “Let’s finally fucking talk this out. Right now.”

Your laugh cut through the air like a blade, sharp and dripping with anger that had Vox stiffening in place. “Talk?” you sneered, voice raw and unfiltered. “You think we should talk after you treated me like I was nothing, then just threw some fucking roses at the mess and expected me to smile?”

The room vibrated with Vox’s rising fury, the lights flickering in tune with the storm behind his eyes. “I gave you those fucking roses,” he barked, voice crackling with barely restrained anger, “and you repay me by acting like a bitch and fucking cheating on me with Papermint – of all the fucking lowlifes?” His voice was rising, his chest heaving with every breath. “I thought you had more class than that, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe you’re just some fucking cheap who-”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the lapels, yanking him down to face you, so close his electric crackles buzzed against your skin. “Go on,” you dared, eyes glinting with fury and hurt. “Finish that thought if you’re stupid enough.”

Something changed within him, a dark hunger flooding down to his gut as you challenged him. For a heartbeat, the anger seemed to melt, replaced by something even more intense. His hands found your hips, his grip unyielding as he leaned in. “Oh, I see it now,” he murmured, low and dangerous. “This little stunt of yours...you just wanted my attention.” He pressed his hips flush against yours, his arousal growing at the very heat of you seeping into him. “Well, doll, now you’ve got every damn bit of it.”

You met his gaze, refusing to back down, lips curling in a cruel smile. “Attention? I don’t need it from you.” Your voice as cutting as glass. “And believe me, I’ve been thinking about finding someone else – a real man who’ll actually be worth my time. Hell, maybe Papermint would be a better fuck than you.” The words dripped with venom, but a slight tremor slipped into your voice, and Vox seized on it like a lifeline.

The room grew darker as, one by one, the lights exploded in a burst of sparks, littering the floor with shards of glass. Vox’s patience snapped. With a growl, he shoved you onto the bed, his grip firm on your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. “Fuck you. His voice was a low, dangerous snarl. “Doll, I’m the best fuck you’ll ever have in this Hell, and deep down, you know it.”

You met his gaze with a cold, derisive smile, unyielding. “Is that why Valentino threw you aside? I hear he’s got quite the size on him,” you taunted, digging your nails into his shoulders to pull him closer to you. “Ah, that’s what I should do,” you slowly grinded against the bulge in his pants, “I should find someone who’ll make me forget all about you.”

Vox’s restraint broke, his hands tearing through fabric as he ripped your clothes apart, each move charged with a possessiveness that left no room for anything else. “Forget me? Fuck you, you fucking bitch,” he growled, the words raw as he flipped you onto your stomach, his hands rough on your waist as he pulled you to him. “I’m going to make damn sure you remember exactly who you belong to.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said those words to him. Deep down, you weren’t interested in Papermint, but it felt intoxicating to bask in the glow of someone’s adoration, even if it was just a fleeting moment.

Each day Vox failed to show up and apologize chipped away at your self-esteem, leaving you feeling disposable. Maybe you had let slip a little white lie about your supposed interest in Papermint, but God, you were so furious with him. How dare he try to control who you saw after treating you like a fool.

When he appeared next to you, grabbing you and whisking you away to his penthouse, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through you. You hated yourself for feeling that familiar spike of desire, even as your heart raced from the frustration simmering within.

You could feel the tension radiating from his frame, an electric heat that mingled with the anger rolling off him in waves. And as he pressed himself against you, you couldn’t help but notice the telltale hardness of his arousal, a fact he seemed oblivious to while you were throwing barbs at each other.

It was as if all the pent-up anger and sexual frustration had built up in a perfect storm, finally peaking and ready to explode. You had told yourself you were done with him, yet you hadn’t sought anyone else because, deep down, you didn’t want to accept that Vox had truly thrown you away.

Then, in a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, his hot, thick member pressing against the cleft of your ass. A soft moan escaped your lips as he slowly rubbed his cock against your slick folds, teasing you with delicious friction. It was ridiculous – months of silence, and here you were, ready to fuck him the moment you came face-to-face.

How typical of both of you.

“Hah,” he scoffed above you, his voice dripping with condescension. “I’m a bad fuck? Look how fucking wet you are, doll,” he growled, his tone low and commanding. He ground his cock against you, igniting a wave of pleasure that made you moan into the sheets.

His claws dug into your hips, sharp sensations igniting your skin as he held you in place. And then, in one fluid motion, he plunged his cock deep inside you, filling you to the brim.

“FUCK!” you screamed, your body arching at the overwhelming stretch as he relentlessly shoved deeper, each thrust reaching the opening of your cervix. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried, your body instinctively wiggling against him, a primal response to the intoxicating pleasure.

“Ugh, fuck you and your tight fucking pussy,” he snarled, pulling back before slamming his hips back in, knocking the breath right out of you. “You think you can just ignore me while you’re that desperate for my cock?” he growled, the raw possessiveness in his voice sending shivers down your spine as he pounded into you relentlessly. His heavy balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.

It was animalistic, the way he gripped you, his claws drawing blood as your face pressed into the bedsheets. Drool pooled at the corners of your lips, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. Your fingers desperately gripped the sheets tightly as you balanced on all fours, surrendering yourself to the feral rhythm of his relentless pounding from behind.

“I’m not good enough for you?” he panted, each thrust punctuated by the sounds of the bed creaking and groaning under your bodies. The lights in the room flickered, the distant pops fading into darkness, heightening the tension that crackled in the air. “Doll, you’re a fucking liar,” he hissed, pressing his chest to your back. “Your cunt is fucking greedy, drooling all over my cock.” With a thrust that sent shockwaves through you, he angled his hips just right, rubbing against your g-spot and making your body quiver.

“F-Fuck!” you cried, your voice barely more than a gasp as pleasure spiralled inside you, a wave cresting toward an inevitable climax. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum” you repeated, breathless.

A sharp tug on your hair pulled you flush against him. His cock twisted within you, making you feel tighter, more vulnerable, as he continued his relentless pace. His claws dug into your breast, their sharp points puncturing your skin, igniting a fiery mix of pleasure and pain that made you moan with abandon.

“Fucking coming on my cock, huh?” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and primal as you bounced on him. “You gonna squirt for me, doll? Wet my sheets? It’s been so fucking long,” his fingers swirled over your soaked clit, the slickness of your arousal mingling with the sounds of your bodies colliding.

“Yeah, yeah,” you moaned, your head falling back in ecstasy, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as the pressure in your gut built to a fever pitch. “Fuck, Vox, I-”

His fingers continued their relentless assault, a blissful combination of pleasure and overstimulation that matched the urgency of his thrusts. You felt a brilliant flash of white before the floodgates opened, a spray of wet arousal erupting from your pussy and soaking the sheets in a deep blue puddle, just as he had predicted.

“Fuck, doll, look how well you came for me,” he growled, his cock still hard, throbbing and desperate as he thrust into you with abandon. Each movement stretched you further, melding pleasure with the remnants of your orgasm as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

Thoughts slipped away, replaced by a chorus of moans and breath pleas of “yes, baby, just like that,” echoing in the dim room. A haze enveloped your mind, pleasure flooding every sense until he finally slowed his pace, pulling out completely.

He gently laid you back on the bed, your body sinking into the soft sheets, still pulsing with aftershocks of pleasure. He knelt over you, his cock jutting out, glistening with your slick. The air between you thickened with heavy breaths, desire hanging palpably in the darkness.

“Come here, sweetie,” you beckoned, opening your legs in an inviting display, your arms reaching out in a gesture of warmth. “I want you to feel good, too.” A sultry grin danced on your lips, the high of pleasure still coursing through your veins.

Vox hesitated, his eyes narrowing as they drifted down to your chest, his expression shifting to one of concern. You followed his gaze and noticed the scratches, the blood, and the marks he left on you. A thrill shot through you; what was a little blood if it meant he was giving you a good fucking?

“Vox?” you called out softly when he didn’t move closer.

As if shaking off a trance, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you against him, pressing your head against him. You felt the steady thrum of his pulse beneath his skin. Confusion knitted your brows; this was new. The roughness, the passion, all wrapped in an unexpected tenderness that left you both breathless and yearning for more.

His claws wove through your hair, each stroke sending a shiver down your spine as he laid you back down, his breath hitching with desire. His arms bracketed your head, the weight of his body bearing down on you as his eyes bore into yours, a fiery intensity igniting the air between you. As he slowly entered you, the world around you faded, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of being filled by him, his size stretching you deliciously, a sharp gasp escaping your lips.

Moaning in delight, your toes curled, and your chest arched up to meet him, the remnants of your first orgasm still thrumming through your body. “Sunshine,” he groaned, his voice a low, sultry rumble as he thrust in and out of you with exquisite slowness, as if you were a precious treasure, fragile and irreplaceable. “Sunshine, don’t you know,” his claws traced delicately along your brow, “how dark my office was without you?”

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes at the cheesiness, to throw out a sarcastic quip. But the softness in his gaze, the way his body slowed to savour every inch of you, stole your words. You felt the walls of your heart soften as he indulged in you, burying himself deep, savouring the warmth and tightness of your body.

“Sunshine, I missed you,” he whispered, his voice cracking with raw emotion. His eyes flickered with something fierce, a primal need that made your core ache with longing. “You’re my sunshine,” he grinned, that cocky smirk you had fallen for, “please don’t take my sunshine away.”

A bubble of laughter escaped your lips, but it quickly turned to tears, shimmering in your eyes as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Your lips brushed against the heated surface of his skin, and a delicious thrill raced through you. “You’re so cheesy, Vox,” you teased lightly, despite the moisture threatening to spill over. “Who does that while fucking?”

“What if I’m making love to you?” he countered, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. His claws caught a stray tear sliding down your cheek, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming. “Can I tell you how much you mean to me?”

Stunned into silence, you let his words wash over you, his gentle thrusts igniting every nerve ending in your body. The way he rolled his hips, slow and deliberate, filled you with warmth and love, deepening the bond that had always been there, even in the chaos. You basked in his affection, your heart and mind colliding in a beautiful mess of emotions.

Each grind of his hips sent waves of pleasure through you, the tension building like a simmering volcano. You trembled beneath him, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt the pressure coiling tighter and tighter. And when you finally hit your peak, it was a gentle, shattering bliss, a soft gasp spilling from your mouth as pleasure crashed over you like a warm tide.

Vox closed his eyes, his own moans filling the air as he lost himself in you. With each thrust, he pressed deeper, filling you completely, his hot seed bursting forth, flooding you and marking you as his. You could feel him pulsing inside you, both of you lost in the haze of drunk, heady pleasure.

As your breaths intertwined and slowed, he rolled over, cradling you against his chest. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong, a soothing rhythm against your skin as his release mixed with yours, dampening the sheets beneath you.

In the warm, dim light of the room, his claws gently brushed through your hair, sending pleasant tingles through your scalp. “Every year, no matter how busy we are, let’s make sure we spend time together on this day,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity.

You furrowed your brows, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Sure, Vox,” you replied, closing your eyes and surrendering to the comforting embrace of his body, the thrum of his heartbeat lulling you into a tranquil state.

You and he made promises all the time.

Promises to cherish each other.

Promises to communicate, to be open.

Promises to carve out time for one another.

But you both knew that as time passed, those promises often slipped away. After all, this was hell, where eternity stretched endlessly, and the weight of promises could never bear the burden of forever.

66 years later, you stood outside VoxTek Aquarium, the warm hellish air brushing against your legs as your loose white dress swayed gently with the breeze. The plunging v-neckline gave the soft fabric an elegant flow, but the empty street surrounding the aquarium was unsettling. The eerie silence was in stark contrast to the usual bustle, the crowds that typically lined up for hours on end nowhere to be seen.

As you approached the doors, a small sign with different shades of blue balloons swaying side by side caught your eyes.

The sign read: Our 66th Anniversary, with a giant heart drawn right below it.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

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angel-of-the-moons · 4 months ago

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Marc x reader smut where reader is down in the dumps and is getting insecure of not being good enough (compared to Layla) and hates that but can’t help it so Marc figures this out and fucks the insecurity outta reader?

More Than Enough

Marc Spector x Fem!Reader (Implied Steven/Jake x Reader)

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Feelings of inadequacy, unprotected PiV, Mirror Sex, Praise, Mostly-clothed sex, Marc has a few of his own issues and is not a licensed psychologist

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I am so sorry this has been sitting in my ask box for so goddamn long, enjoy the word vomit aksbldbldbld

You knew it was a stupid thing to worry about, your insecurity. You felt... sub-par.

Compared to other people, compared to other women, compared to... her.

You could tell they had something special at one point, something almost-unbreakable. But then the issue with Steven realizing who he was, hunting Harrow, fighting Ammit, finding out Marc was there when her father was murdered... Jake goddamn Lockley...

Layla el Faouly was, honestly, a head-turner. She was funny, smart, beautiful and had a way of getting people to open up to her.

Even you, to a point. But you still felt inadequacy, even a bit of envy when it came to Layla. She was with Marc for so long--hell they had been married!

You couldn't keep lying to yourself, and you couldn't keep lying to them. So... You came clean. And the look Marc gave you made you wilt.

It was even worse because he was silent. You couldn't bear to be under his scrutiny so you turned around and wrapped your arms around yourself, staring into the floor-length mirror with a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

Your eyes darted towards Marc's reflection. At first, you thought he was looking at you; but then you realized he was having a mental conversation with Steven and Jake about the situation. You wished you could be privy to those conversations, worrying about any possible arguments that may be waging behind his eyes.

Your shoulders drop and you sigh, eyes closing. "Just--forget I said anything? Please, I'm sorry that I..."

Your eyes open and you instinctively gasp--Marc was standing right behind you, his dark and stormy eyes locking with that of your reflection's. "M-Marc--"

"You fuckin' kidding me, doll?" Marc asked you, frowning. The tone of his voice alone made you wince.

"I--I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." You try.

"Damn right you shouldn't have."

You squeeze your eyes shut once more, hating yourself as that stone of regret pings around in your belly.

That is, until he growled, hands bunching your shirt at your waist, yanking you against him, his lips barely curling into a snarl at your ear, "Cause that's my girlfriend you're fucking talking about."

You shiver, a small gasp coming from you as Marc's mouth was on your throat; licking, kissing, mouthing away at your skin, making goosebumps prickle across your body.

His mouth comes to a halt for a split second, his eyes focusing on his reflection once more; "...Right. Our girlfriend."

He takes a small bit of your skin between his teeth and nips; "And we know for a fact that our girlfriend isn't doubting for a single fucking second if she's "good enough" for us."

"I... I just..." You babble as his grip goes white-knuckled in your shirt.

You gasp loudly when he grips just a fraction tighter and rips your shirt open, the buttons flying in different directions in the room, skittering across the floor to be hidden until Steven's next "cleaning day" spree.

"M-Marc! My shirt--"

"Is hidin' you. Gotta show you what you're blind to, baby." He muttered against your skin, his hands spreading over your belly, one going up to pluck at the bra you wore. It wasn't fancy or sexy by any means. Just one of those stretchy, mesh, wire-free ones you opted to wear when you didn't want your skin irritated by the wires and elastics fo your typical ones.

"Wearing Steven's favorite one, today." Marc hisses in your ear, groping at one of your breasts through the fabric, running his thumb over the bump of your nipple as your heart begins to pound.

"I... I didn't--"

"Wanna know why he likes it?" Marc asked, biting onto your earlobe, grabbing the loops of your jeans to tug you against him; allowing him to grind the growing bulge of his cock against the curve of your ass.

One of his fingers pluck the stretchy fabric, letting it go to ever so slightly smack against your skin; "Because it don't fucking hurt you. Because, it looks way more natural--way more comfortable."

He chuckles warmly, a soft smile playing on his lips, "That, and the way that they bounce more in this bra than the others tends to distract him, too. Makes these," His index finger swirles over the bump of your nipple once more. "way more visible."

Shame and the heat of your self-esteem make your cheeks flush, and you look away. Marc frowned stubbornly, "Baby..."

"Marc, I don't think that I'm..."

He growled again, the typical sound that came from him when he was frustrated. He'd never used it on you, before; so the sound made a thrill run down your spine.

He shoves his hand from your bra to the front of your pants, yanking the button open and pulling your fly down. He hastily shoved the denim down your thighs, revealing your soft, lacy panties.

They were a dark gray color, with bits of green and red--vines and roses across the lace. They left very little to the imagination, but they were so soft sometimes you'd forget you were wearing any at all.

"Damn, baby... wearin' Jake's favorite, too?" He grinned against the skin of your shoulder, staring down your reflection with the hardened gaze of a soldier sighting down his target.

His rough and calloused hand stroked over the fabric, his fingers dipping low to tease the seam of your panties, feeling a damp spot that was slowly spreading. It never failed; you were light a string in a guitar, waiting to be plucked so the most melodious of tunes would come from your weet lips.

Marc continued to stroke your damp panties for a moment, humming against your soft skin. "Wanna know what the favorite thing that you're wearin'?"

"Wh-what?" You breathe.

Marc withdrew his hand and gently encapsulated your fragile wrist in his fingers, holding your left hand up, where a gold ring was snugly fit around your ring finger; "This. This here means that you're mine. That you're ours. So don't you think for a minute that you're second-best, that you're not good enough for us."

In that moment, you felt stupid all over again. How could you forget? The weight of the ring felt so obvious to you, now. Marc's fingers caress the cool metal, smiling in a gentle way at your hand.

"Baby, you gotta understand... You're right."

Your heart thudded against the delicate cage of your ribs as he let that sentence hang in the air, keeping you in suspense.

"You're not Layla. You're nothin' like her." He continued, "You're you. You're funny, you're soft-spoken, you have a habit of always finding animals to play with and pet when we go out... And that little giggle-snort you do when you laugh so hard you're outta breath? All. You. We fucking love every single goddamn piece of you, baby. So... Please stop comparing yourself to Layla... If you keep doing that, you'll just tear yourself up inside until you're all hollow. Believe me, I did it so much that... well, you know what happened."

He brings your hand up and kisses your knuckles, "And we can't have you falling apart on us... you're the closest thing we have to normal... we need you."

Your heart squeezed in your chest and you sniffled, feeling tears well up in your eyes as your lip wobbled. Lingering feelings of doubt still clung to your subconscious, even in the face of all of Marc's affirmations, "But... but I don't feel like I'm good enough, Marc... Sometimes... sometimes I just feel so useless, and..."

Marc grunts, the sound coming from his nose in a hefty exhale as he drops your hand. "Alright... Maybe you need a little extra convincing."

You almost turn, confused by what he meant, when his hand flattened between your shoulders, shoving you against the mirror so your hands were spread across the reflective glass.

"M-Marc--!"

"Shush, and don't you stop looking at that mirror. Want you to see how fuckin' pretty you are while I fuck you." He murmurs, leaning back to undo his own jeans, hastily shoving the and his boxers down to free his cock, red and throbbing.

His rolled his hips against you, his cock grinding against the soft lace of your panties, smearing a small droplet of precum onto the fabric. Marc lifted his eyes to lock with yours in the mirror.

"Don't look at me, baby. Already told you."

Your breath leaves you in a stutter, your eyes dragging down to look at your own flushed face; your parted lips and torn shirt, your breasts heaving, the soft fabric stretched across them as their soft weight swayed and bounced as Marc maneuvered your body.

He slides your underwear off to the side, gripping the base of his shaft as he slides the tip of his cock through your budding wetness. Your eyes go wide when you feel his tip catch at your entrance, and you barely have a moment to breathe as he slams his hips against you, sinking inside of your body in one fluid thrust.

The stretchy was sudden; the lack of proper preparation left you with a stinging sensation that battled evenly with the pleasure of having his thick cock settle deep inside of you as he pressed against you; the dark hairs at the base of his cock tickled the skin of your ass.

"Baby, you're--fuck." He whined, his brows creasing as a stray curl falls over his forehead as he bows forward, relishing in the moment how good it felt to have your soft, velvety heat wrap and cling around him.

"Shit, honey." Marc sighed after what felt like eons; his hands stroking and gripping the flesh of your ass in his meaty palms. "You're like fuckin' heaven..."

He pulled back once, and slammed back in, making you cry out as the burn and ecstasy once more fight each-other in a bare-handed brawl; making your eyes roll back and flutter closed. God, why did it feel so good?

His mouth was at your ear, his voice tight and strained as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock sliding in and out of you easier and easier as the pleasure began to mount; tickling your spine. "...and I should know, angel..." Marc grunted. "I was in heaven for a little while..."

"Marc..." You whimpered, dropping your head as he began to pound into you, your chest burning with every heavy breath you took as Marc roughly crammed his cock inside of you, pressing hard on every single spot inside that had your head swimming with euphoria.

"Gh--fuck!" Marc barked, grabbing a fistful of your hair (carefully, ind you, he didn't want to hurt you at all) and pulled your head back so he could see your face, "I told you... watch yourself, baby. Don't look away."

You hiccup. Marc was fucking you so roughly from behind that you were almost concerned the pressure you were putting on the mirror would shatter it.

"That's it..." Marc groaned, his eyes rolling back with a blissful sigh as he tipped his head back.

You could see his Adam's apple bob, his jaw tighten as he fucked into you like a rutting dog. His hand lets your hair go and slides down your back, beneath the fabric of your torn shirt to caress the curve and contour of your spine.

Marc's eyes meet yours in the reflection, and his lips quirk up as he gives you another sharp thrust; your voice punching out of you in a breathless cry.

"Baby... do I gotta tell you again?" He sighed, gripping you by the back of your elbows and yanking you upright against him, so your back was pressed against his chest.

You groaned in bliss as you felt him shift inside of you. This position was new... and not unpleasant.

One of his hands curls around you, gripping your chin and jerking your head up, snarling in your ear; "Fuckin' watch, baby."

Your eyes slide down, and between your spread legs, your panties hastily shoved aside... You could see Marc's cock pull out almost to the tip before he slammed his hips up, rutting up into you in another frantic thrust.

"'m gonna show you how fuckin' good you are to us... Even if it means I gotta prove it to you all night long."

He slammed into you once more, his lips curling against your ear as he watches himself disappear inside of you.

"Even if Steven and Jake gotta take over after. I'm done with you."

#🌙 answered #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x you

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trancylovecraft · 1 year ago

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So, I just met you today with the Cherry Blossom Kokushibo fic and, you know, I just fell in love with your writing

I've had this idea in my mind for a while and when I read your fanfic I just knew you were the perfect person to put it into words

May I request an Oneshot with Muzan Kibutsuji/Fem reader? So, I've imagined for a while a fanfic where Muzan encounters a female reader who suffers from albinism, having very pale skin, white hair and natural red eyes. Because she was born like that, people rumored her to be a demon (sensibility to sunlight and red eyes aggravated that), and that caused her to be isolated from all and unable to wed. She is from a noble family and that is why she's still alive, but that doesn't soothe the wound since her family treats her like an outcast.

Bitter with resentment, under the moonlight of the bedroom, she curses all of those who waste their health living mundane lives while she suffers in loneliness. Her nihilism, indifference and hate makes her unafraid of Muzan as, if she thinks he will devour her, she asks for him to at least kill her family too. Little does she know that Kibutsuji already knows her, and he is infatuated with her. (If he wants to wed her and turn her into a demon she ain't complaining, especially if their engagement is celebrated with a bit of family massacre)

This idea was inspired by spider lillies, moonlight and the fact that I'd like to imagine Muzan with someone who resembles him when he was a human (Narcisistic King would only date those who remind him of himself)

I apologise if this request is too long for your liking, I am not very good with words and simplifying something I am excited about!

- the banana split jane doe

(KNY) YANDERE MUZAN x ALBINO READER: The Light Side of the Moon

(DW, I gotchu girlie. Hope you enjoy this one!)

The sun's rays shone down onto the overgrown field.

The rays seemed to reflect off of every grass strand and every drop of dew fell from the rain the night before.

It was a beautiful day despite the heavy rain last night, So much so that in the early hours of the morning the village kids had left early to run around in the grass and play dirty. Of course they would, It was getting into the colder months as indicated by the chilling breeze running through the valley. The children had to make use of every wake of sunlight before the snow came in.

So out in the field there was a good group of kids in the dozens play fighting and playing tag, Not giving mind to the dirtying of their kimono's and haori's. Their laughter rang out and bounced around like they were in a cave.

"Stupid.." [F/N] muttered, A bitter resentment lacing her voice like venom as she looked out at all the kids running wild in the valley.

She sat perched under the big zelkova tree overlooking the entire valley. It's branches were large and it's leaves were enough in number to filter out any sunlight passing through it, A perfect condition for the girl.

[F/N] sat right up against the tree for support as she brushed her hair with her fingers. Her locks were pure white, So was her skin. It wasn't like the kids who had pale skin nor was her hair light like the occasional person with a story, But instead something much more extreme.

When [F/N] was born she was diagnosed with albinism. According to the doctor who delivered her, Her mother had screamed in disgust at the sight of her while her father had demanded to know who she cheated on him with.

Her father wanted to kill her, He couldn't stand to look at such a horrid child. He wanted to throw her out into the river and hope nature took its course, However, He was fortunately stopped by the mere fact that they were noble blood and had already told the village-people the birth was successful. Killing her now would only severely damage reputation. Therefore letting her live.

From that day forward she was considered bad luck.

The local folklore was that albinism was a curse from an ancestor to atone for wrongdoings done in their time. It was an omen of death, Also known as: Something to avoid.

And the locals took it to heart. Every time [F/N] would walk down the street, Every time she'd go out to the market she'd get stares, Heckled and harassed her when she walked. Suddenly the prices at the market would go up, Just for her.

It didn't help that the consequences that came with the defect definetly made it seem like a curse. Due to the complete lack of melanin anywhere the sun scorched her skin like fire, Leaving her needing to take special precaution when leaving the house. Her eyesight wasn't the best either, Though it was much better than the normal person with albinism she still did have trouble seeing at times.

The past two months didn't help her case either, With the recent mutilations of the-

A rock slammed into the side of [F/N]'s head, Making her double over onto the grass. The sound of a couple children cheering rang out from down the hill. She hissed in pain.

"Take that, Demon!" One of the boys said, Having been the one who threw the rock. [F/N] clutched the side of her head where the impact hit. She could feel the early gathering of blood start to stain her pristine kept hair.

"The fuck is wrong with you?!" [F/N] screamed.

Pushing her body back up to look at the group of kids with an absolutely furious expression. The kids stood strong however, Only taking a few meek steps towards her.

"Leave our families alone!" Another one shouted, A girl this time. Her face was angry too, Only as much as a young child's could look. The other kids who weren't involved in the group stopped playing to watch the scene.

The mutilations, Of course. They started around two months ago with the Furukawa family. It was awful, One of their elderly neighbours had picked up a rotten smell and had asked her son to go check on them. Of course they came across both the mother and the father's pieces spread across the Livingroom.

[F/N] was familiar with the two, They had often been one of the more outspoken village people about their dislike of her and a few days before had shoved her aside while she was walking around.

She knew she should of shown some kind of emotion at the news of their slaughter, But to be honest, [F/N] didn't care. If anything, She felt a small tinge of relief.

They weren't there to harass her anymore, Or make off-hand remarks. For that she was glad.

"I never touched your stupid families!" [F/N] yelled back at her. Her deep vermillion eyes were filled with disgust like she was staring down an insect she could crush under the sole of her sandals.

"Liar!" Another one of the kids stepped out from behind the small group. He wasn't one of the bigger ones, He was in fact rather scrawny with unkempt hair. But [F/N] recognised him as the Furukawa's youngest kid.

"M-My parents died because of you.." He muttered, Looking down at his shoes unable to meet [F/N]'s eyes. His hands clenched into a determined fist, His body shook with vigour.

"They were great people! You had no right to take them away from me. Just because the other adults don't see you as the demon you are doesn't mean we don't!" He yelled back at her. The other kids joined in with supportive remarks following his speech.

"One day, When I get older I'll get revenge for them. I'll get re-" A rock slammed straight into his open jaw.

The kid screamed and fell to the floor with a loud thud!

The other kids yelped and backed away from the boy, Who was coughing up teeth and blood. He writhed around on the ground groaning in pain.

[F/N] was standing up now. She had picked up the rock that was thrown at her and flung it right back at the kid. She stood there seething in a fighting stance.

"Demon? I'll show you demon!" [F/N] yelled. She swiftly grabbed another rock and hurled it straight at the girl who chose to speak out, Hitting her straight on the forehead with a sick crunch.

The previously silent kids amplified into an uproar.

Screaming echoed around in the valley as all the kids tried to get away from the ensuing fight. [F/N] kept picking up rocks from the small hill and hurling them at the group. The kids who started the fight tried to haul away the two kids who got the worst of it, Picking them up by the arms trying to drag them away from the attacks.

"DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN OR IT'LL BE YOU NEXT! I SWEAR TO THE GODS IT'LL BE YOU!" [F/N] screamed, Her voice hitting high's that could be heard from the village.

The kids had gotten a good distance away from her now but that didn't stop [F/N] from throwing more stones.

"YOU HEAR ME?! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!" She yelled after them, Raising another rock to throw.

But by the time she had finished they had all scampered away back home.

She was left standing on top of the hill, Under the shade of the big zelkova tree, Looking out over the now empty and desolate field which had such a lively energy before but now was cold and lost.

She was panting, Letting out heavy breaths of air that turned into mist in the cold climate. The rock in her hand she was about to throw lowered, Dropping it to the ground. She exhaled for a final time, Letting all the anger and rage dissolve into mild annoyance she finally relaxed.

"Dumb kids.." She huffed. Shaking her head she leaned down to pick up the thick birch handle of her parasol.

Grabbing it she extended the blue patterned canopy, Making sure it covered her form she dusted herself off. Settling the parasol handle on her shoulder she set off out into the valley, Dreading her walk back home.

☆♡☆

"That was a horrible thing you did"

[F/N]'s mother stood a few feet away from her, Circling around her like a predator yet keeping a good enough distance to test the acidic waters. [F/N] felt her teeth grind against each other and her palms get sweaty.

Of course, The kids from earlier had ran back to her house to snitch on her to her mother. Well, Not the kids but the parents of the girl and the eldest brother of the Furukawa family being rightfully angry.

[F/N] was made aware of this when she came home at the first sign of the sun setting. Her mother was perched on the large porch of their family home waiting for [F/N]'s arrival, From the first time [F/N] spotted her mother she could of mistaken smoke from coming out of her ears.

It was frustrating, While she figured her mother would find out eventually it didn't take anything away from the experience. Though, She supposed she was lucky.

Her father being a noble and very highly profiled swordsman meant he was disciplined, And it also meant he expected that from all his children. Luckily enough though he was out on a very long business trip. If he was here, [F/N] knew that she'd get more than a serious lecture.

"So what? They attacked me first, It's only karma what they got" [F/N] responded, Her voice trying to stay levelled and calm yet shook at the seams. Her mother scoffed at that.

"They're just kids, [F/N]! They don't know any better and you should have taken that into account" Her mother exclaimed incredulously, Taking a few prompted steps up towards her daughter with purpose.

"Well maybe they'd know better if they're parents were still around to teach them better, Not that its my fault like they think though, Right?" [F/N] spat, Her voice venomous and the sheer disregard for the weight of her words went through her mother like a static shock.

"How fucking dare you.." Her mother whispered, Her voice full of disbelief at her daughters words leaving her jaw agape and eyes wide.

"Well I mean, The parents were already shitty people to begin with so I suppose that whoever ripped them apart did the kids a favour-"

SLAP!

[F/N]'s monologue was cut short by the hand connecting hard to the side of her cheek. [F/N] yelped out and stumbled back trying to catch her balance.

The hit had landed roughly at the side leaving only a single burst of a painful red on her monochromatic get-up.

"Your ideology is absolutely disgusting, How bloody dare you speak about the dead like that? You don't have any right to say that about anyone, Young lady!" Her mother yelled at her, Only about a foot away from her face.

[F/N] blinked away the tears from the pain and instantly snapped back.

"I'm saying what nobody else has the guts to! Just because you're all cowards and ignorant bastards doesn't mean you get to take it out on me!" [F/N] screamed back at her mother, Getting up into her face.

"You kee-"

While speaking, Her mothers hand shot out to grab [F/N]'s shoulder but her wrist was snatched by the younger girl, Who held it with an iron grip cutting off the older woman's speech.

"Don't you dare lay another hand on me.." [F/N] hissed. Her face seemed to be etched with a wild kind of rage like a feral dog, The single action of her mother making the anger so clear to anyone who could see.

Her mother, Being a much older woman than her daughter had much more brittle bones. The grip on her wrist being sore and painful on her old skin as she tried to pull away from her daughters grasp.

Realising what she was doing [F/N] let go of her mother, Who staggered a good few feet back from her assailant.

[F/N] mumbled a small yet sour apology and marched off towards the door out of the main Livingroom.

As she opened the sliding door and stepped out she heard her mother call out back to her.

"Y-You go up to your room and stay there, Young lady. Only come down once your ready to apologise!" She heard her mothers weak voice call out to her as she shut the door.

"I know!" [F/N] replied without looking back at her.

The door finally closed to leave her in the dim hallway, The only light shone from behind the Livingroom door leaving the entire hallway almost impossible to see in. [F/N] stood still behind the door, Making no move to head to her room. She looked down at her feet to contemplate her situation.

"Really? Hitting our mother? You've reached a new kind of low, Haven't you [F/N]?" A voice called out a little way down the hall.

[F/N] jerked her head up to the source of the voice and groaned.

Her younger brother, Juro, Stood at the end of the hall seemingly just came down the stairs. His head was held high and the usual smug grin lay planted on his face as always, He had his arms folded across his chest and his entire figure radiated false superiority.

[F/N] was the oldest of the five children her parents had conceived. Juro was the second oldest by only about five years apart in birth. [F/N] supposed that the reason they had such a big gap in age was due to the looming fear of their parents producing another demon child.

Though when they did give birth to Juro and found out he was a regular child compared to their monster of an eldest, [F/N] knew how much he'd be absolutely spoiled rotten, Which matched his personality like a pair of gloves.

It gave him a rather annoying superiority complex, With all the spoiling and being the one destined to become the head of their families clan and wealth you could probably see how it got to his head.

However it didn't stop [F/N] from being distasteful in behaviour towards him, The nasty expression on her face evident of that.

"Oh get off my case, Like you really give a damn." [F/N] scoffed, Straightening out her back to reach her full height.

"Of course I 'give a damn'. It's our mother and one of the figure heads of this clan, You really should be more respectful to your elders. Why mother keeps you around elludes me" Juro replied, Making sure to drawl out every condesending syllable to its full potential.

[F/N] knew exactly why her mother and father kept her around: They couldn't get rid of her. Their original plan was to marry her off, It didn't matter if it was to a nobleman or a commoner to them. The only thing that did was getting her to leave.

Though it imploded on itself when they realised no one would take her, Both her attitude and her looks were a big enough deterrent. Great for her but bad for her parents.

"Ah, Right. Because she shows such an amazing amount of respect towards me, I honestly feel so awful about it" [F/N] gasped, Sarcasm dripped from every word and fell like acid making Juro's eyebrow twitch.

He moved forward a few steps, Sizing her up as he went.

"Well the difference is that mother has a reason to not respect you, I mean come on, It's obvious. Maybe if you do treat her with the right attitude then maybe she might start seeing you in a different way" Juro said the last part as if he was trying to contain laughter, Like he had just heard the most offensive joke in the world he just couldn't laugh at.

[F/N] felt her fists clench and tighten to bare her knuckles.

"But with such sour attitude I do suppose it would be impossible for you, Wouldn't it? Dear sister?" Juro whispered as he got up into her face. Only a couple inches away from her now he carefully eyed her down, Waiting for one single move.

[F/N]'s teeth grinded, Her tightened palms grew sweaty and itched for the offensive attack. She wanted to punch him, She wanted to attack him and wipe that disgusting, Grimy smirk off of his arrogant little face.

However, [F/N] just sighed and let her fist drop loose into straightened palms. She knew what he was doing, She wasn't going to give into his taunt. She's had enough for tonight.

"Back off, Juro." [F/N] simply warned. Turning away from his expression now filled with annoyed disappointment she headed off towards the stairwell at the end off the hallway.

As she got up the steps she heard his smug voice call after her.

"Such a lovely chat with you as always!"

☆♡☆

The sound of childlike laughter resonated throughout the house, Despite the muffled sound of it [F/N] could hear the weight of it even from behind the thick walls of her room.

The pale moonlight of the night had illuminated the unlit room and flooded the area with a subtle glow, The silk blinds danced along with the soft breeze lifting into the room.

Her bedroom was situated at the very top of the large family home, The third floor. The massive house was large and sat at the edge of the village they lived in, Overlooking the entire town yet having enough distance to be considered a private property separate from the other houses.

The house was home to three floors in total. The first was the main area home to the kitchen, Livingroom and general activities such as a drawing room, Dining hall and her fathers very own training room.

The second was housing all of the bedrooms. All of her siblings, Parents and even the guest sleeping quarters were located there. It also even held a small room for their families servants.

And finally, The third was by far the loneliest of the trio.

It was much smaller compared to the other floors and was the newest built. It only housed a single hallway and [F/N]'s own separate bedroom which made up the majority of the floor.

Usually the prospect of having an entire floor to themselves would entice and excite anyone. The privacy and spacious area would seem like a blessing.

And yes, [F/N] agreed. It was a blessing alright. She was granted privacy from the struggle that was her family, It gave her time on her own to be herself.

But she also had to admit: It had it's downsides. Another laugh sounded out from downstairs on the first floor. The movements of the hairbrush on [F/N]'s light locks halted, Just for a moment as she listened to the joyous voice of her youngest sister.

They were having dinner, It seemed. [F/N] didn't apologise and had no intention to, So she was forced to reside in her room.

She continued to comb through her hair, Feeling the tug of the movements as she listened to the laughter down below cease.

[F/N] scoffed at it and tried to take her mind away and focus on the strokes of the brush. Though she couldn't help but trail off to the infuriating scenario happening downstairs.

Since her father was away her mother was probably the one to cook the food tonight, She always did instead of the family servants, Her own personal recipe of a Sukiyaki stew pot that she made to comfort her kids while their dad was away.

Her kids.

A mother is suppose to "love" her kids unconditionally, And in that aspect she certainly did, All except when it came to her. [F/N] knew her mother had tried at least, But it came off in the way you'd treat an unwelcomed guest. Trying to give due respect yet wanting them out of your house as soon as possible.

[F/N] had figured a long time ago that it was better to be treated with ire than pity and had given up all sense of courtesy towards her mother, Continuing to this day.

A faint tug pulled in her chest as another roar of laughter came up from downstairs, They seemed to be having a good time.

[F/N] finally set down her brush onto the vanity. The small sound of the wood hitting the desk seemed so much louder in the large area of her room.

[F/N] supposed she did need to give her mother some credit, She was the one to let her have the single room at the very top of the house (Even if it was to keep her away from the rest of her family)

But the room seemed so.. Empty.

[F/N] stared into the vanity mirror, The light surface of the glass reflecting her own pale visage back at her.

She trailed a hand across her features to examine for any blemishes, Pushing back any stray strands of hair from her face and pulling them behind her ear. Staring deep into the clear colour of her cardinal rose eyes she assessed their problems, And she found none.

When times like these came about [F/N] often pondered about why people didn't like her more. She was beautiful, Stunning, Exotic even to the disgusting drunk men that passed her by on the moonlit walks.

So why even if some drunkards could see her beauty why couldn't the locals and her own family see that too instead of the cursed child from a close-to-god family?

It couldn't be her attitude, That was just a by-product of their own treatment toward her. So why? She was born this way, She couldn't change how she looked, She should of been adored.

Yet all the locals, All of her beloved family, All of the suitors that her parents had tried to ship her off to had only a single look at her before rejecting her whole.

One day, She promised herself. One day she'd get back at them, She didn't know how or when or even if she could but she knew that one day, They would regret treating her like a bug under their foot.

As her mind wandered she started to realise that maybe it wasn't the room that was empty.

A sudden knock echoed out, Crashing [F/N]'s train of thought.

[F/N] jerked her head over to the main door of her room. Getting up from the small pillow she sat on she moved quietly to the entrance. Turning the knob and opening the door she was met face to face with one of her families servants.

"Your mother has requested me to bring you your dinner" The servant said, Robotic and monotone in voice as he presented her a bowl of udon. [F/N] paused at the sight of it.

"..It's not Sukiyaki stew pot.." She mumbled.

"Correct, Ma'am" He replied in short.

[F/N] was silent as she carefully took the small bowl from his hands, She barely noticed the small bow and the closing of the door before it was entirely shut.

[F/N] examined the soggy noodles and small tempura bits in the bowl, A barely generous helping.

She 'tched at the sight but figured she was lucky enough to even get dinner in the first place.

Turning around she walked over to the other set of double doors at the end of the room, Food in one hand she pushed the door open to reveal the small balcony outside. Stepping out into the night's cool air she took a deep breath in.

The laughter was no longer audible once she shut the door, Only replaced by the sound of cicada hums and the clacking of tiles when she clambered up onto the slanted roof of the house.

[F/N] sat down on the tiles and looked out onto the sea of village houses down below, The faint lantern light from the village was warm and inviting in contrast to the inhabitants, Of whom were out doing their nightly patrol's in watch for another mutilation.

However the scene didn't interest her in the slightest, Instead it was the moon which seemed to hang over her entire world.

It glowed brighter than any lantern the village people could spark, Yet the light was never overwhelming or stung her eyes in the slightest. Instead the soft rays of moonlight had only provided comfort.

[F/N] didn't know why it brought such solace, Maybe its because it never burnt her skin like the sun did. The moon replaced it in that way, The night time became her daytime, When she felt most lively: Herself.

She often came up onto the roof to feel that way, Every time without missing a single night she'd climb up onto the roof and speak to the moon for hours like it was an old friend. Or maybe just to stare and admire the pale light of its beauty.

But to be fair, [F/N] never felt much at all.

When she did it was always a constant state of annoyance, Anger or resentment. The feeling the moon brought her was still very unfamiliar to her, But very much welcome. She barely understood anything other than the undying resentment, Maybe it was a sad existence but to be fair she barely understood sadness either.

She realised the udon in her hands was growing cold. Reaching behind her for the pair of chopsticks she noticed something else a little further ahead from them, Lying on the roof.

She raised an eyebrow and squinted her eyes to examine it closer, But they instantly shot out once she realised what it was.

It was a single bouquet of flowers, Red, Beautiful roses sprung from the carefully arranged bunch.

[F/N]'s breath hitched in her throat, Her whole body seemed to clench up at even a small sight of it. A bouquet of roses? Who could of left those here? They couldn't be for her, Could they?

She set down her bowl of udon carefully beside her, Eyeing the bouquet like it was bound to attack her yet it didn't stop her quick crawl over to its side.

Nor did it stop the almost desperate grab she made for the neck of the bunch, Pulling it close to her chest she finally noticed the small tag sticking out from the flowers reading: To [F/N] Shiratori.

She felt the concentrated joy explode inside her like bottle rockets, The absolute euphoria flooded her senses as she felt hot blood rise to her cheeks, Giving colour to them yet said no pain.

The roses were absolutely beautiful, Carefully handpicked as the petals seemed soft and fresh. She grinned wildly, They must of took great thought while preparing it.

She couldn't help but shove her face into the roses to inhale their scent, The sweet yet rich aroma circled in her mind. They truly were the best of the bunch.

But when she pulled away she noticed she had neglected a small envelope from where the bouquet was sitting before, Hiding the envelope below it.

Her lips quirked. First the roses, Now a letter? She giggled slightly, Imagining whoever it was is a real romantic.

Extracting the envelope and gently opening it's folds she pulled the paper from its cover and unfolded it to view the contents.

Dear, [F/N]. My one and only.

Ever since I saw you on this rooftop, I knew you were the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I hope one day we will get to meet, One day in the near future.

Love, Your admirer.

It was such a simple letter, Only two simple sentences of sweet but common flatter words yet once she had finished the final word the fireworks of a foreign emotion burst inside her.

She knew it was something akin to euphoria, An exhilaration that made her blood rush to her cheeks and heat up her entire system in the cold nights air, Yet no matter how hard she tried she couldn't identify the rhapsody of song inside her.

Though she couldn't deny, It felt good. Better than she's ever felt in a very long time.

[F/N] embraced the letter with her whole body, Curling up around it to try and squeeze out more of the intoxicating feel, An addictive high.

The letter and bouquet, Whoever may have left it there, Wherever they may be, They must really really like her.

☆♡☆

The yelling of her family woke [F/N] from her peaceful slumber.

Her heavy eyelids were wrenched open as she writhed around atop the roof tiles, Bothered by the loud intrusion.

Once she finally let the light hit her pupils she realised her mistake. She was in the light, The sunlight was touching her skin.

[F/N] yelled out and instantly scuffled down off the roof, Swinging open the door she almost lunged into the safety of her house shade as she fell onto the floorboards.

Her skin burned and tinged lightly. Examining her skin she found the beginnings of a mild sunburn on her arms, The red welts fizzling up into her hands all the way to her forearms. Her light kimono doing nothing to shield her from the UV rays.

She had fallen asleep on the roof and had neglected the danger of doing so, In her panic [F/N] chided herself for her stupid mistake.

Yet outside it seemed like it was just the break of dawn, The orange to yellow hues painting the sky signalled the early hours of the morning. She was lucky that the noise woke her up in time, Otherwise her problem would be much worse.

Scrambling over to her vanity mirror to examine the full entirety of her body she gasped on sight as soon as she saw her reflection in the polished glass. Her face.

At least a good third of face was covered in red hot boils and welts, The sore burn crept up from her left cheek over to her chin, Reaching as far as her right side too.

"No.. No, No, No.. Please, No!" She yelled, [F/N]'s eyes almost popped out of her sockets with tears starting to form at the corners. She trailed her equally burnt hands across the scorch marks in disbelief at what she was seeing.

A sudden rapid pounding at her door knocked her out of her stupor.

"[F/N]! Open the door, Now!" It was her mother's voice. The alarm in her voice seemed to resonate in [F/N] to give her a grasp of their unknown situation.

"Jeez.. Hold on!" [F/N] called out towards her door, Yet she saw the handle start to turn. A spike in her adrenaline shot up.

"I'm getting dressed, Damn it!" [F/N] screamed, Her voice as hoarse as a fourty-year chain-smoker. The turning of the knob stopped as soon as she let the words leave her mouth.

"Fine, But make it quick! And make sure to put on something nice." Her mother yelled back at her, A small tint of exasperation lacing her tone yet her footsteps leaving down the hallway sounded determined in their path.

[F/N] cursed. Bullets of sweat rolled down her face and stung the burns where they lay. She had no idea what she was going to do. Rapidly sliding out drawers in her vanity to find anything of use, To no avail.

Next she went to her closet. Swinging the old wooden doors open she shifted through her different coloured kimonos. Pulling through the silk and cotton she found nothing of use except for a thickly woven navy kimono that was oversized and could cover her body nice and neatly.

Despite that there was still the issue of her face, The burn marks were so noticeable you could see them from miles away. There was nothing that could hide her scorches from the sun-

Her hand bumped up against something.

[F/N]'s temple furrowed. Reaching into the back of dark, Spacious cupboard she gripped onto the object she felt was made of straw.

With a tug and a pull she managed to haul out the hefty object, Revealing it to be her old uchikatsugi.

It was a gift from the town's doctor before he passed away from old age a few years ago, [F/N] remembered him fondly even though he was never really around.

He still did greet her with a smile and a handshake every time they met, It wouldn't be wrong to describe him as a father figure either.

Though as always, Good things didn't last. They never did.

[F/N] had no time to dwell on that last thought, Her relief was a much more appealing distraction.

The uchikatsugi, A large straw hat for noblewomen with a large silky veil to cover her face. Back when she got it, It was way too big for her to use with her small body so she stored it in her closet for a later use, [F/N] supposed she just forgot about it.

She sat the large hat down on her head, And with a little shimmying to get it properly down it fit her head like a glove to a hand.

Once she finished changing into her dark cerulean kimono, She was ready to go downstairs and see whatever it was her family was making such a ruckus about.

As she took careful strides down the creaky steps of the stairs she saw her mother impatiently tapping her foot at the bottom. [F/N], Before making herself known, Fixed up her appearance to make sure nothing was showing free.

Once she was pleased, [F/N] cleared her throat to which her mother jerked her head around to her 'daughters' direction.

"Ah, Finally. I was wondering what took you so long." Her mother remarked, Letting her folded arms drop to her sides. [F/N] huffed at the passive aggressive tone yet felt alleviation, Her clothes worked, Her mother couldn't see a thing.

"Had to find a good enough outfit for such an important event, At least from the sounds of it. Why am I up this early anyways?" [F/N] yawned, Still not quite tuned in despite her earlier shock.

"There was another one." Her mother responded quickly, Turning away.

"Another what?" [F/N] queried, Tad annoyed at her mothers elusive behaviour.

"Another mutilation, [F/N]." Her mother exasperated, Swiftly turning back to look at her with an expression that just oozed the word obviously.

[F/N] stopped, Mulling over the information.

"Alright, Okay that's bad but why does this concern me?" She asked after a moment.

Her mother shook her head to her daughters persistence.

"This is a village matter, [F/N]. Something we are apart of" Her mother explained, Treating [F/N] like a curious toddler repeatedly asking why.

"Unfortunately.." [F/N] muttered.

"Just get a move on downstairs now, Swiftly now.." Her mother said, Quickly pulling [F/N]'s shoulder and hushing her down the second set of stairs. [F/N] shrugged of her mothers firm hand, Telling her she'll go down herself.

Settling her hat comfortably onto her head she headed downstairs, Dreading future events.

☆♡☆

The early morning air was cold and fresh as it weaved through the tall houses of the village.

Usually in the mornings with the first break of dawn you could hear the chirping of the crows harking in the early crowds off to work. You could see the townsfolk head to the markets and children run about in the streets, Laughing and roughhousing with each other like siblings together.

But today was different.

The echo of crows on the village walls were silent now. The children who use to run about in the streets buck wild were now pulled close to their parents, A worried smile replacing their usual carefree faces.

[F/N] stood away back from the large crowd gathered in the centre of the village, Everyone from the village was here. The elders, The working class to the babies were summoned together in the village, All quietly chattering amongst themselves.

She observed the crowd in distain, What mundane people leading such plain lives. They They wasted their lives in the sun, Taking the warmth for granted working nine to fives and coming home to their stupid little families, Accomplishing nothing big in their lives yet they boasted of grandeur while she stood standing away from them, Suffering from the pain of her sunburn.

She huffed at the thought.

[F/N] didn't stand with her family, She only watched them as they made their way to the front of the front of the crowd of which immediately quieted down at the sight of them

[F/N]'s father was considered the head of the village and therefore took care of all the important matters.

However since he was absent it was up to her mother to take care of her husbands duties while he was away

"Hello everybody, It's good to see you all out here today." Her mother called out her opening statement. She was backed by the other four of her siblings, Juro standing especially besides her.

Despite her hello's, Nobody answered her.

"I suppose you all know why you were called here, Regarding the death of the Hagihara family." Her mother continued.

Hagihara, That rang a bell in [F/N]'s mind.

Her eyes widened in recognition, The neurons connecting in her mind as the face of the little girl she had hit with a rock entered into her head.

"If you're not already aware of what happened, Early in the morning screams were heard from their family home. On investigation they were found.. Killed inside their Livingroom.. No survivors" Her mother announced.

A few shocked gasps ran from the crowd, The chatter from before sparked up like a lighter on the fuel of information. However their talking was calmed by her mother rather loudly clearing her throat.

"Yes, Yes. I understand this is horrible information, And I know a good lot of you were close with the family and I do offer my sincerest apologies." Her mother said. Her voice filled with a genuine sympathy, Showing it by giving a few select nods towards some of the crowd.

[F/N] didn't listen to her mother however, The information was still fresh in her mind.

This information should have left a lack of feeling in [F/N]'s chest, And regarding the deaths it did.

But the coincidence of it felt like a static shock to a dead heart. First it was the Furukawa's, They were particularly nasty to [F/N]. When they fell victims to the night veiled attacks she had felt glad despite how morbid it was, They weren't there to harass her anymore.

However now it was the Hagihara's, Only yesterday did they get negatively involved with her after the rock incident and now they were dead.

No. No, It was just a coincidence.

Even though they did hold hatred against her so did all of the other villagers. If the mutilations were connected to her then the mutilations would be targeted towards more outspoken villagers, Even if it was because of the rock incident other villagers would of been targeted before her. Her family would be targeted before them.

Even so, She needed to make sure.

[F/N] was barely listening when she quickly took off away from the crowd down an alleyway. Slipping away from the group with ease as their attention was still heavily focused onto her mother, Who was still continuing on with her speech. She couldn't bare to be surrounded by such waste of flesh anymore.

She picked up pace once she realised she was far enough away, Managing to navigated the rock base of the village with proficiency and quickly coming to a stop once she stood in front of the targeted house. Luckily it was located on the other side of the village, She could make as much noise as she needed.

Once she finally stopped she could notice the broken down door almost instantly. The village houses were regularly built together so this was striking to her. The shoji door was splintered into pieces of wood and sheet, Tiny pieces.

[F/N] swallowed a lump in her throat, Realising the weight of what she was doing. But it didn't stop her from taking strides forward, Past the destroyed bits of door and into the house where she saw the real carnage.

The Livingroom was absolutely destroyed.

Walls were shook and large scratch marks decorated them like paintings. Furniture was flung about and lay toppled across the entire main room like a wild beast was let loose, A bear, A rhino. Something of that size could of done this, Yet she could tell it was entirely human design.

The room was completely in the dark, No sunlight shown through which let [F/N] take her uchikatsugi off to get a better look.

Despite all of the wreckage its the fact that the room was coloured head to toe in red, That is what sent a feeling of dread crawl up [F/N]'s back.

The blood was stained on table cloths, Floors, Wooden walls. Anything that could be stained was drenched in the now-dry ichor of red. Thankfully the bodies weren't here anymore, Most likely hauled off to get cremated.

The singe of the scent of blood itched at the tip of [F/N]'s nose as she took a few more cautious steps inside, Carefully avoiding the debris as she finally made her way into the centre of the Livingroom.

The whole place just radiated fear and destruction, So much so that it felt like a cold hand was resting on her shoulder when she looked out at the scene.

Her eyes shot up.

She jerked her whole body around and stumbled back like a shock to her system, She lost her balance and fell backwards.

"Careful there." The smooth voice belonged to a man, Who caught her once she fell backwards.

His strength was commendable as he only laid a single hand on her back to keep her supported.

[F/N] was breathing heavily, Loud gasps of air from the sheer fright the man gave her. He gently lifted her up to her feet, Making sure to steady her.

"I apologise if I gave you a fright there, I do have a habit of being a quiet walker" He explained with a courteous smile.

"Yeah.. You do.." That was all [F/N] could say, Her breath still taken away but not from the fall as she laid her eyes on the mans face.

The man was pale, Deathly pale. While [F/N] was as white as a sheet from her condition it looked like he was sickly and withering, Yet the look seemed to compliment his bone structure. His dark wavy locks shaped his face and came down to his sharp jawline, Perfectly brushed and trimmed.

However it was his eyes that struck [F/N] the most, The same ruby irises that she had harboured stared right back at her. Even through the darkness of the room she could see the vividness of the red through the suffocating black.

"..Are you alright?" He asked. [F/N] didn't even realise she was staring before he snapped her out of it.

"Yes, Yes. I'm fine, Thank you." She said, A hint of practiced resentment laced her voice. A built-up tactic to protect herself. But the suspicion was warrented however, The clean cut black suit vest with golden coloured lacing was clue enough to tell her he wasn't from here.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, Resting her hands onto her hips. Her eyes were locked onto his own, Searching for any sign of deception.

The man simply let out a breath of air.

"I'm here to this village on business reasons, I was just passing through when I saw the door broken down. I'm just here to make sure everything is alright." He explained, A light carefree tone in his voice.

"My name is Tsukihiko, I travelled here from Tokyo" Tsukihiko added after a moment.

[F/N] carefully examined his body language for any sign of him lying, Any twitch of the hand or quirk of the lips but she came up empty handed. She had no reason not to believe him.

"Okay then, Tsukihiko.." She drawled, Still cautious of him "Well since you obviously don't know, There's been a string of murders going on in this village for a long while now. You really shouldn't be in here" She said.

"May I ask why you are here then? No offense, But you don't look like an investigator or any kind of authority, Miss." Tsukihiko said yet his tone sounded near playful if it wasn't for his dignified self.

[F/N] felt her tensed shoulders deflate, He got her there.

"..None of your business" She retorted, But her previous aversion had dissolved into a weak huff. "What's an investigator suppose to look like anyways?" [F/N] mused.

"Usually not like a beautiful noblewoman such as yourself, The one's I've seen tend to be a bit more.. Lacking in that department" Tsukihiko replied, As if what he said held absolutely no weight at all.

But that wasn't true to [F/N], The words held so much weight that it squeezed down at her heart. That same, Unfamiliar euphoric feeling she felt holding the flowers kept rushing out of the compressed heart and filling her system once again.

Did he really see her beauty? Or was it a way to strengthen out a deal with a noble family's daughter? If so then the joke would be on him. But he wasn't that far off from her, They were both pale and shared the same wine-stained eyes. Maybe he did understand her beauty. The mere thought of it seemed to clench her heart tighter.

However, It was stopped by a single missed heartbeat.

The sunburn, She still had the sunburn on her skin. Her uchikatsugi still lain slack in her left hand. [F/N] felt her hands suddenly grow clammy and her lungs take in a sharp breath, A quick spike in adrenaline made her entire body freeze up.

Tsukihiko seemed to notice her realisation, Somehow understanding her sudden panic he gently rested a hand onto the girls cheek.

"I mean my words, I'm not quite fond of the sun either." Tsukihiko said, That deep voice ringing soft in the girls ear.

The hand on her cheek should of been warm, But instead of the expected body heat coming from him there was a cold chill that ran down her from his touch.

It felt nice on her sunburn, It seemed to cool down the itchy feel of heat simmering in her skin and instead made it feel like a early summer breeze. [F/N] in response seemed to soften down and lean into the cold, Only a little bit.

"Seriously? People here seem to enjoy the sun a lot, You disliking it would be a first" [F/N] mumbled absentmindedly, Her gaze trailing off to some unknown point of the room. "How'd you know I didn't like the sun anyways?"

"A good guess, I suppose. You have albinism, Correct? It's only natural to have a resentment towards the sun when it sears your skin, I have a particularly terrible condition myself so I suppose I can empathise" Tsukihiko explained.

His words brought [F/N]'s eyes back to his own, Their shared eyes meeting together. Ones searching for any kind of lie while the others looked back with only the sincerest of truth's, At least from what [F/N] could tell anyways.

She felt a sudden sense of an unrecognisable feeling.

Not like the one she had before when it felt like fireworks, But instead one that felt like a rope was tied between the two. Like a single string had suddenly appeared just from his words, A sudden connection.

Connection? That sounded right, At least she thought so.

"..I see. You don't seem to have albinism, So what's your condition anyways?" [F/N] queried. While the man was pale and had the same red eyes she had, It couldn't of been albinism. His hair was a natural noir and his skin still held a very tiny bit of melanin.

[F/N] saw his lips quirk, It wasn't noticeable, Only a quick twitch before they were back to their usual smile. It almost raised an eyebrow.

"..It's not a specific illness that has been diagnosed however the symptoms do include a rather harsh weakness to sunlight." He said.

Thats strange, [F/N] thought. Tsukihiko was only wearing a suit vest, Black dress slacks and a clean white blouse. He had no form of sun protection like [F/N]'s kimono or uchikatsugi. It was weird, And [F/N] wasn't going to let it go for a second.

"Really? Then how did you get here without something like a parasol, Or any kind of protection?" She asked, Her guard raised up once again in light of the new information.

Tsukihiko's guard followed with [F/N]'s. His shoulders stiffened up and the smile on his face seemed just a tad bit more strained than it did before.

"Well luckily due to-"

"[F/N]!" A sudden scream cut through the start of his words. [F/N] gasped, She recognised the voice of which belonged to her mother.

She cursed under her breath and rushed past the man, Her attention fully diverted from him as she set the uchikatsugi onto her head and went out of the house and into the sun.

[F/N] finally stumbled out onto the rocky street road, Only to see her mother at the end of the road angrily making her way towards her. [F/N] sucked air through her teeth, She was in trouble.

She saw Juro stand behind her, Watching their mother make their way towards [F/N] with the omnipresent smugness drenching his face.

"Told you she was here!" He called out to his mother, But she didn't look back, She was way too focused on her eldest who stood there frozen like a frightened opossum.

The heavy sounds of her mothers sandals against rock and the single strum of a biwa echoed out into the wide walls of the village. Luckily no one else was around, Probably still making their way here from being dispersed only earlier from the town meeting.

"What the hell do you think your doing, Young woman?!" Her mother yelled. Finally closing the distance between the two her mothers hand lunged for her daughters wrist, Yanking her close to her [F/N] let out a curse under her breath.

"What? Can't I check out the crime scene?" [F/N] remarked with a practiced incredulous tone. Ignorant curiosity, It wasn't the reason she came here for but her mother didn't need to know that.

Her mother looked back at her, Incredulous, Just like [F/N]'s voice. However it was mixed with contorted expression of how one might look at spoiled food, Maggots and rodents already festering and all.

"..Do you even listen to what comes out of your mouth? At any point in your life do you even think about what you're about to do?" Her mother said, Only a single pitch away from a whisper.

"Either way it wasn't why I was here, I was talking to that man over there." [F/N] said, Lazily motioning her head under the hat towards the entrance of the house. Her mother quickly strode away from her daughter, But made the move to grab her wrist and drag her along as she went towards the entrance of the house.

"Hey! Hands off me-" [F/N] yelled. Despite her mothers old bones it seemed the sheer anger made her completely apathetic to her age.

"What man? There's no one there." Her mother hissed. Pushing her daughter in front of her to get a better look at the house.

It was true. Apart from the dried carnage and the destroyed insides of the Livingroom there was no sign of life inside. No noise nor presence to be found.

[F/N] felt her heart stop inside her chest, Her breath stifled. That was impossible, The only entrance inside the house was the main door. If he had left through the main door then there would of been no doubt that he would of been spotted.

"Good gods, [F/N].." Her mother groaned, Massaging her temple to soothe her irritation.

"He was here! I swear, I don't know wher-"

"Oh just be quiet, [F/N]!" Her mother exclaimed.

Turning to face her daughter she jumped back in surprise, The look on her mothers worn face was tired and so very angry.

"I'm so done with just letting you run about and do as you please, Someone needs to give you discipline to show you how things work around here" Her mother said lowly.

Yanking [F/N] forward they took off away from the scene. [F/N] couldn't keep up with her fast pace and stumbled around as she was pulled along in her mothers grip.

They passed Juro who didn't even turn his head towards her families squabble, Only side-eyeing [F/N] as they passed.

Juro, That bastard, An Ironic insult but it was the best she could mouth at him as she was dragged by. He was the one who had alerted his mother to her absence, He had to be. Mother wouldn't care if she had wandered off, Juro on the other hand would pick out any opportunity he could to ruin her day.

As she was dragged back to their family home she cursed him out under her breath. [F/N] would've wondered why he was like this to her, But she knew that there was never a reason apart from stigma with a streak of sadism and superiority.

She'd get back at him one day. That, She swore.

☆♡☆

Loud footsteps slammed against the wooden floorboards of the house making louds creaks in their wake.

Opening and slamming the door it shook the frame of her room with the sheer force at which it hit.

As soon as it shut [F/N] pushed herself up against the door and let out a loud cry. The tears she was holding back with a fierce determination now flooded down her face without a hint of resistance.

She slowly slid down the door until it was only her, Sitting on the cold floorboards pressed up against the door, Sobbing her eyes out.

[F/N] didn't know why she was crying, Maybe it was just the broken dam of a slowly rising tide. The house of cards that finally toppled once the slightest of disruptions knocked over its foundation, Causing the entire building to fall down.

What she did know however, Is the words of which her mother had told her.

"Punishment!" "Deserve!" "Finally!"

The words her mother had used when she confiscated her parasols and uchikatsugi swarmed her like a hive of insects. The one thing that protected her from the sun, That let her feel like a normal person even if only for a single minute was taken away by her mother.

She had called it a deserving punishment, Finally giving her daughter the discipline she needed.

What would she even achieve from taking them away? To teach her a lesson, Perhaps. Maybe she had thought it would exorcise the demon that was disguised as her daughter. Even if she did think that before, After seeing the sunburn ingrained onto her skin gave her a good reminder alright.

[F/N]'s breath came out in hitches. Rapid gasps for breaths as she desperately tried to wipe away the unforgiving tears coming out of her eyes. Everyone kept asking what was wrong with her when the only thing she could ask was what was wrong with them.

She didn't choose to be like this. She didn't choose the red bloodshot eyes nor did she choose the bright white of her hair and skin, It didn't mean she was a demon. What was wrong with this world? What did she do to deserve this?

[F/N] lifted her head to wipe away the build up of fluid on her face when she caught the vivid red in the corner of her eye.

It made her breath hitch once more, But not from the pain in her lungs or the sting in her eyes.

[F/N] didn't even bother getting up, Instead favouring to hastily crawl over to her bed. Once she lifted her upper body to see what it was her eyes widened.

It was another bouquet, Just as beautiful as the last. The red petals of rose were fresh and smelt as such, Purifying the air around her and drawing her in with the sweet scent. The colour of the roses seemed to give a hot kick compared to the coldness of her abode.

It was that feeling again. Fireworks. The feeling that brought the warmth back to her, The one she could never describe.

[F/N] took the bouquet into her arms, The softness of both the petals and the trimmed stems caressed her bare skin.

Her lips twitched. The corners of her mouth turning themselves into a new smile, Feeling foreign on her face. There was no letter this time, However that didn't matter.

The bouquet said everything it needed to. She pulled it close as the last of her tears dried, Turning only into small sniffles now and then.

Maybe things weren't so awful after all.

☆♡☆

In the following months, Slowly, A routine started to form.

[F/N] wasn't allowed to go outside of her house, So she had to make do with what she had inside her room.

In the mornings she'd wake up, Make her bed and get ready for the day. Afterwards she would go downstairs to collect her breakfast and make her way back to her room.

Then in the afternoons she'd make herself busy by playing solo games of old sets in her room: Shogi, Menko or Origami, Anything to keep her occupied and keep the boredom at bay.

[F/N] knew if she just apologised and promised to her mother she'd be good she could definetly worm her way out of punishment, However she decided against it. Her pride and dignity was worth baring a stupid little punishment from her mother.

At night she would get her dinner from the kitchens and make her way up to the rooftops again, Speaking to the moon as her only social output as long as you don't count the snide comments from Juro or the single syllable answers from her mother.

For hours she'd just spout out about whatever came to mind. Her day, Frustrations and desires would all be entrusted to the celestial body, A silent promise not to tell between the two.

[F/N] thought it was funny, She'd started to believe the moon could really hear her. It felt like that too sometimes, That someone was really there to listen to her.

And finally, Careful not to make her mistake again she'd close the blinds and make her way to bed. Only to start the cycle all over again the next day.

Though sometimes the cycle would break, Sometimes she would find another bouquet. Lying on the roof or sat tidy on her bed.

Sometimes the person in question would leave a letter too. The sweet words seeming sacred as the flow of the writing went through her, Touching the very core of her heart.

She'd soak up every letter, Every little word she'd mull over for hours at a time letting that feeling coarse through her blood stream. These letters appeared about once a week, Quickly becoming the only thing she had to look forward to.

It was good, It was very good. It hit her one day, Lying in bed while rereading the latest letter for the fifth time.

Was this love?

Maybe. Before the letter had started she had dismissed the concept of it entirely, Love was just a façade. A husband and wife was suppose to love each other yet her mother and father barely spoke when they were around.

A sibling was suppose to love their other siblings unconditionally, But instead hers had shunned her and at best gave backhanded remarks. Sure, Her mother might of loved her kids but even then it was just maternal instinct.

Love was just a construct, That was her belief. It was a way to explain how things worked in a mysterious world, It didn't actually exist. No, It couldn't. At least not for her.

But when she held the soft paper in her hands and finished the last letter of the note it finally clicked, This was love. It had to be.

The undying passion written in the letters proved it, The vowing to love her always said it. It made her blush like an alcoholic intoxicated onto the feeling it gave her.

It was so addicting that she never really took care into asking herself how they got into her room or onto her roof, How they knew exactly what she liked or how she wanted it. That wasn't important.

What was important was who it was. Was it a girl or a boy? How old are they? What do they look like? What's their name? She pondered over this often and to be honest, She couldn't care less about who it was. They loved her, That's all that mattered. It was the spark of light in a dark hopeless void.

Even the rocks thrown through her balcony window, Scribbled in ink with the word "demon" couldn't take her out of her high. Nor the continuing mutilations building up a body count in town could catch her now.

Nowadays the entire family was counting down for the arrival of her father. His business trip had came to an end and now he was making his way home, Due to arrive in a week.

In a weeks time her father would be home, She dreaded the thought. So that's why she had carefully wrote a letter of her own and left it on the rooftop, A common spot for the person in question to leave their letters.

She wrote every letter with passion and folded the envelope with care, Waiting for the response she had went back to bed, Waiting for her admirer to take her away.

"When can I see you? I want to know who you are."

☆♡☆

Her letter had been answered.

The letter she had left on the roof was replaced with a letter of their own. The next day she had found it lying in the same spot, Bouquet of roses and all.

She read the words several times over, Just to make sure she was reading things right.

Midnight, Meet me outside on the pathway to the village. I'll be waiting.

Love, Your admirer.

They wanted to meet her, Her admirer wanted to meet her tonight. As soon as she read the last word she squealed like a little girl on her birthday and spun herself around the room with exhilarant joy.

She stopped dead in her tracks. She needed to get ready. Looking down at her morning kimono she realised she needed to wear her best, She couldn't go out looking like this.

The feeling of wanting to look your best while in front of someone was another new sensation, She'd been having a lot of new sensations lately. All because of her admirer. It was only right to look as good as she could.

She thought back to her experience a few months ago, That man, Tsukihiko. Maybe he was her admirer. The way he looked at her with those matching red eyes just spoke to her, It had to be him. Who else could it be?

Sifting through her closet she finally picked out a rather expensive kimono with a matching yukata. The design's laced onto the fabric were beautiful and made with care, When [F/N] looked at it she knew she had found the perfect one.

But looking in the mirror she knew her hair needed some touching up, Her makeup too.. And her nails and maybe she could find a cute hairpin? Maybe her hair needs touching up again..

By the time she was done it the sun had long set, Replacing the clear blue with a star filled winter night.

[F/N] knew she wasn't allowed out of the house, She knew when she carefully maneuvered her way down the rooftop. It never left her mind even soon as she felt her best sandals hit the ground, But nor did it ever matter to her. She was going to meet her admirer, That was much more important than her mother.

[F/N] moved hastily down the pathway from her house to the village, The letter never specified where about on the pathway they were to meet so she had just decided to walk until something happened.

She slowed down in her tracks to only a leisurely walk. The cold air hit the back of her neck and ran through her hair as she went. [F/N] felt her heart beating like a drum, The rhythm thumping at her ribcage felt like it was going to explode from her chest.

Her leisured stroll came to a stop, By now she could see the village lights and the rest of the stone-lined path. Her eyes followed it all the way back to where she was standing, No one was there. Not Tsukihiko, Not anyone.

[F/N]'s face scrunched up in confusion, She had went the entire pathway and no one was to be found. Could she be late? Looking up at the sky to see the moon dead-centre in the sky that ruled out the possibility entirely.

Then suddenly, She felt a rock hit her back.

The force pushed her over, Collapsing to the ground on her knee's.

The shock struck her like an ice-pick to the back, Causing a cold chill to wash over her. As soon as it hit her thoughts had came to a standstill, Trying to compute what just happened.

A few pairs of footsteps came running out from behind her.

[F/N] looked behind her, Eyes bloodshot and open to their limits as she finally spied the group.

"There! Told you she'd come." Juro laughed to the group of kids behind him, His friends, All carrying pouches of unknown fillings. They all looked down at [F/N], Their expressions all smiling wide and giggling along quietly to Juro.

Another feeling washed over, Anger only an aftertaste to the pain writhing around in her chest. Her arms shook as she tried to gather her Barings, However another quick jolt of pain went to her stomach. One of his friends who she recognised as the Furukawa boy had kicked her, Making her fall down again.

"Demon scum!" He exclaimed as he stepped back towards the group. [F/N] groaned in pain as she wiped away the red specks coming from her mouth.

"What.. What the fuck. The hell.. Are you doing here, Juro" [F/N] hissed, The truth of the situation going straight over her head.

"What? You don't remember? Meet me here at midnight on the pathway to the village!" He teased, The mocking tone in his voice made his group laugh. Juro looked at her straight in the eyes, The sadism shining through the dull overlay.

[F/N] stopped, Going completely still.

No, It couldn't be. Please, For the love of whatever god is up there. It can't be.

"You.. It was you?" She breathed lowly, Disbelieving eyes piercing into his. Pleading with him silently, Subconciously. Juro seemed to toss his head to the side and took a few lazy steps towards her, He had no care in the world as he stood only a foot away from his defeated sister.

"Of course it was me. I knew all about your little rooftop talks, I was the one to leave the bouquets in the first place." He announced it as if it was obvious all along, As if it was nothing but a throwaway joke in a play.

[F/N] felt her heart break.

She felt the culmination of that feeling built up over months, The growing flutter of her heart. The feeling she had even dared to consider love was shattered into a million pieces, Reduced to nothing but ashes.

This wasn't true, How could it be? It couldn't.. [F/N] felt her vision start to go blurry. She opened her dry mouth, She only had one question to ask.

"So.. For months.. You left me flowers.. Letters. All so you could bring me out here..?" She whispered. The blurryness in her eyes gathered and dripped down her face, Cold against her burning face.

"Well I mean, Not at first. In the beginning it was just a way to mess with you, It was funny for me but then.." Juro motioned over to his friends "When I told my friends about it we thought it was an opportunity we couldn't lose, Especially when you left a letter of your own." He finished.

The words devastated [F/N]. The entire world around her seemed so desolate, Like she drowning under the weight of the entire ocean unable to breathe or speak.

She didn't even flinch when Juro and his group raised their hands, The pouches full of unknown contents brought high. And when they threw it, She was glad that her tears blurred their faces.

She curled up into a ball and wished for this nightmare to be over.

☆♡☆

The dragging of slow footsteps echoed lowly in the dark hallway. The passage was dark and near lifeless as most of the house was asleep at this point, Only a few servants lay awake finishing their nightly duties.

[F/N]'s feet barely left the ground as she clutched the hot cup of tea in her hands. In the days that passed it was the only thing she subsided on except from the small bites of food she would eat during the day.

Her eyes seemed low and sunken, Like they were struggling to stay open. Along with her matted hair and chapped lips she appeared dishevelled similar to how an insomniac running on coffee would be, Though at this point that was basically what she became.

Gently pulling open the door to her bedroom [F/N] took a few short steps inside. Once she closed the door she was greeted once again by the emptiness of her room.

She let out a defeated sigh. Trotting over to her bed she set her tea down on the side table, Right before collapsing right onto the bed.

She sunk down into the mattress, Letting the temporary warmth and shelter of the blankets envelop her.

[F/N] was tired, Very tired. Right then and there she wanted to close her eyes and not wake up, Not for a long time. But she knew that no matter how hard she tried she wouldn't be able to sleep, Not as long as her mind was as conflicted as hers.

She turned over onto her back so she could stare up at the ceiling. Before all of this had happened she felt angry or annoyed, Always, There was no in-between. Maybe a splash of surprise here and there but apart from that there was no flux.

After she read the letters her palette had expanded, It felt like she was tasting a new wild variety of flavours for the first time after only eating bread for her entire life. She felt euphoric, She felt love and infatuation. It was good, It was so good.

But now after being hazed with flour and hit with rocks, Humiliated and embarrassed by Juro and his gang she just felt.. Nothing.

She wasn't angry nor was she annoyed, She's tried to feel those things, She tried to feel some sort of rage towards him but after everything she just couldn't.

Juro had even left an extra bouquet for when she got back that night, This one not of roses but instead spider lilies.

The only thing she could do was toss them out from the balcony, The flowers taking all of her anger with it.

[F/N] turned her head over to her balcony. The blinds were shut over the doors yet there was a small opening, A little crack that let moonlight filter through into the room. She could see the moon facing her through the opening, Gathering up what she had left she opened her mouth.

"Is this it..? Is this all there will ever be to my life..?" She whispered, Looking at the moon as her only friend.

She waited. She waited a good few minutes, Waiting for any kind of response from her oldest companion.

Yet nothing came. The moon just looked down on her, Just like they did, Just like they all did.

[F/N] huffed lightly, Turning away from the moon. It was stupid. She grew up to believe that the moon was always there for her, That it would always listen to her. It was her friend.

She knew how stupid that was now. The moon wasn't her friend, It couldn't listen to her. All this time she spoke to an unfeeling object, Something that couldn't understand her or provide any comfort.

"Is this all there will ever be to my life"

Her words rang out in her head. At every turn she was dejected back down into the dirt. While the healthy ran outside to live their life she was stuck at home, Unable to get a job or a husband due to her looks.

She hated them, If she had anything else left to feel it was hatred. They lived their lives free to do anything they wanted yet they wasted it on mundane jobs, Mundane lives while she was left here to fester.

[F/N] closed her eyes. Listening to the servant outside brush the hallways, She tried to use it as white noise. Something to fa-

THUMP!

[F/N] opened her eyes slowly.

The wall to her room that was shared with the hallway suddenly let out a large thump. Coincidentally the sounds of sweeping came to an abrupt stop right before the noise.

Everything was silent now, There was no noise coming from outside nor from [F/N]. Instead she just watched the door, Waiting for the next sign of life.

Another set of footsteps came, Not belonging to the servant before. These ones were heavier, Filled with purpose and stride.

She listened as they reached her door, Coming to a sudden stop in front of it. [F/N] listened half-heartedly along, Waiting for the next sound.

It came. The slow but loud creaking of the door echoed from the walls in her room. She didn't dare to look up into the dark void of the doorway, She knew what was happening. She knew what was going to happen. This was the demon who caused the villages mutilations, There was only one outcome.

The footsteps entered the room. From [F/N]'s limited vision she could only see what looked to be a mans body dressed in a suit jacket and blouse, The left arm stained with a fresh crimson. Her eyes moved up, She couldn't see his face however, The moonlight didn't reveal it.

[F/N] sighed, Maybe out of exhaustion or maybe out of relief.

"So it's you, You're the one whose been doing the mutilations I suppose.. I'm guessing you got to the servant outside right?" She drawled, Letting the syllables play out on her tongue.

The man didn't answer, He only stopped in his tracks. [F/N] could feel his eyes on her, Running over her body, Like a wolf checking to see if the fox could fit in its maws.

[F/N] didn't expect an answer, But she continued anyways.

"You're going to kill me now, Probably even before I've finished my sentence but just.. Just let me make one final request.." A sudden jolt came from inside her like the final remains of lighter fluid sparking out into the raging blizzard.

It felt like vengeance, If she was going down then she knew who was coming with her.

"I don't care if you kill me.. But when you do I want you to take my family too. I don't care how you do it but I want you to make it bloody, I want you to make sure that my father comes home to a slaughter house, I want you to make sure people remember this." She said, The liquid in the lighter drying with her words.

She closed her eyes, Waiting on her bound demise.

This was it. Her body relaxed to take in her final moments. The warmth of the blanket, The coldness of her room, The beating of her heart.

"Who said I would kill you.."

And the feeling of a hand over hers, Gripping it tight.

Her eyes opened wide at the voice, Her irises searched and landed on the mans face now illuminated by the moonlight, It was one she recognised.

"It's you.." [F/N] breathed, She looked over the mans features, Just to make sure.

"Tsukihiko" She whispered. It was him, She saw it now. It was the same suit-jacket, The same styled hair and red eyes. A gentle smile graced his face as he moved even closer than he was currently.

"Even though I may have told you so, Tsukihiko isn't my real name." He corrected. That same deep tone of voice he used all those months ago laced his voice, Resonating deep inside her.

"My name is Muzan Kibutsuji, I am the progenitor of all demons." He declared softly. The hand he had entwined with hers squeezed tighter. His hand wasn't warm, It was in fact cold to the touch but it didn't feel uncomfortable, It was instead akin to shaved ice during a heatwave.

The progenitor of all demons, This was the demon king. It raised more questions than answers but [F/N] could only ask a single one.

"Then, why won't you kill me? Why are you telling me all of this?" She whispered, Looking deep into his eyes for the answer.

He only looked back with the most sincere emotion a being like him could have.

"Because, It seems I've become infatuated with you."

The words left his lips with a finality, As if he was just as bewildered as she was looking into his eyes.

The words pierced her like a spear. [F/N] felt eyes expand and her jaw opening only a little. It was that feeling again, That same feeling, The fireworks.

"..How can I trust your words? How do I know you're not lying to me?" She asked, A small treble in her voice. How could she trust anything he said, Not when she could never trust anything anyone said to her.

"You can't trust me." Muzan finalised, Agreeing with her words. She felt disappointment start to bubble up in her before her spoke one more.

"But when I say that I have became smitten over you from the day I saw you on that roof top, When I say that I became enraptured by your beauty and charm I want you to believe that, My love." He spoke.

[F/N] was speechless, She couldn't believe what she was hearing but by the gods did she want to. Heat rose to her cheeks and she stumbled to get out a single vowel before she was pulled to her feet by Muzan.

"Everything I've been doing these past few months I've done for you, Everything. You are more than a mere human, You're someone I can call my equal" He whispered. And from his suit pocket he pulled out something that gleamed in the moonlight.

It was a ring of silver, A wedding ring. It was beautiful. A sapphire center piece for the gemstone, Crowned by the silver and another dozen gems surrounding it.

[F/N]'s breath hitched at the sight of it.

"You want me… To marry you?" She asked, The words foreign on her tongue. [F/N] still stood in disbelief, Shock, A flurry of new emotions invading her senses that made her need to conceal an excited grin.

"Yes. I see no one else worthy of being called my wife, Only you." He replied. Gentle smile still painted on his face.

The fireworks went off. In that moment, [F/N] knew the answer, One that she couldn't put into words but instead an action.

As soon as the fireworks exploded she took a step forward, Putting her lips on his and bringing Muzan into a deep kiss. Trying her best to make it as passionate as possible with her inexperience.

Muzan didn't resist, But instead seemed to expect it. He put an arm around her waist and took lead, Guiding her along.

As it happened she felt their bodies collide, His arms were wrapped around her body tightly while hers rested on his shoulders in the heat of the moment.

[F/N] barely noticed the ring slip onto her finger, A perfect fit. She could only focus on their lips mingling with each other, His fangs clashing against her bottom lip while she tried to figure out what to do with her tongue.

Muzan's hand slipped down to her neck. A single claw cutting open both his finger and a small part of [F/N]'s neck, Letting his blood mix with hers.

The motion made [F/N] pull away from Muzan, The feeling of her stomach turning interrupting her.

"What the.." She mumbled. [F/N]'s body started to shake, She felt weird. Stumbling back a few feet she was caught by Muzan, Smiling at her with that same gentle look.

He set her down onto her bed, Caressing her cheek with care.

"Rest now, Your transformation should only take a few minutes." Muzan said, Sitting beside her on the bed.

[F/N] nodded, She knew what he meant and she simply didn't care. Only smiling lazily as she let her heart circulate his blood round her system. She felt him close her eyes. And let his blood take her over completely.

☆♡☆

[F/N] followed Muzan down the hallway. Her movements were slow yet jerky at the same time, Like her entire body was numb and barely woken up.

Her mind was hazy, Like a sudden mist started to fall over her mind as soon as she woke up. Her stomach turning had turned into a sudden emptiness, A sudden hunger. She had a craving for something, She didn't know what. However all she knew is that she had to follow Muzan as he helped her down the stairs.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs onto the second floor, Suddenly she caught something sweet in the air, Enticing her on.

Muzan noticed this, An almost amused smile appeared on his face.

"Go on then, I won't stop you." He said, And that was all she needed.

[F/N] took off following the scent almost feverishly, Making her way down the hallways going around turns she finally came across a door.

Her mouth watered. The scent was stronger now, Even more so as she bust open the door.

Juro woke up with a start, The noise of his door slamming open almost off the hinges made him flinch. He got up so he was now sitting on his bed. Maybe another mutilation happened, It was probably his mother informing him so.

But as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see his elder sister leaning against the doorway, He knew that wasn't the case.

"What the hell do you want..? You still mad about last week?" He chuckled lightly, The sleep still permeating his voice.

[F/N] stood in the doorway, Not answering. However her breathing was laboured and she stumbled about, Swaying side to side. Her head was lowered to the ground, Eyeing only the floorboards.

"What's wrong with you?" Juro raised an eyebrow at his sisters movements, It was getting annoying. Waking him up in the middle of the night and she wouldn't even tell him why.

But he suddenly froze once she lifted her head.

Her laboured breathing showed off her teeth, Sharper than normal creating new fangs protruding from her mouth. Her pupils had slimmed and turned into something similar to a cat's, And they were eyeing him like a piece of raw meat.

His sweat dropped, This wasn't normal. Slowly getting out of his bed he made sure to never take his eyes off of her, To make sure she didn't pounce.

"Listen.. [F/N]." He started, His voice shaky and carefully planned.

"I-I'm sorry for what I did.. Okay? I-I shouldn't of treated you like that.. It was wrong, I.. I'm so sorry okay?" He started. His entire form shook, His knees threatening to buckle under the weight of the situation.

She took a step forward, Making him flinch.

"I-I'm sorry! Please don-"

[F/N] lunged forward, Her body knocking into his as they fell to the floor with a thump!

Juro screamed, Loud and high pitched to make sure the rest of the house woke up as he felt [F/N]'s teeth lodge into his neck.

With a tug she pulled her mouth back. A chunk of flesh and muscle tore out from his neck, Making a spray of blood coat the room and [F/N] entirely painting her red.

Juro sobbed. His mental state reducing into that of a child's as he felt his sisters teeth tear at his flesh, Only to greedily shove the meat down her gullet, Pleased at the sweet taste she licked her lips to Juro's horror.

She tore into him, Again and again. Juro felt his limbs be pulled from their sockets and the blood burst from his arteries, Popping like candy and spraying all over the room.

He was barely conscious when the cold sweat of death wash over him.

The last thing he saw was the looming figure of his sister. His severed arm in her mouth and covered in red. Smiling at him, Wide and proud.

And the oncoming figures of the rest of his family in the doorway.

☆♡☆

Downstairs Muzan stood idly in the main room.

He waited for her, Listening intently to the noise thrashing around upstairs. He decided it was best to let [F/N] take care of it herself, She was hungry after all and as a new demon she needed her strength.

However, Muzan's attention was drawn to the main door, Which was flung open letting the cold nights air flood inside.

In the doorway was an older man. A katana around his waist and a yukata over his slayer uniform. Muzan felt the grin tug at his lips, This must of been [F/N]'s father, A slayer at that.

"..Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?!" He exclaimed, Yet his tone contained exhaustion, Obviously tired from a long travel.

"Who am I? I assumed you slayers would know a king when they saw one." Muzan remarked.

The mans eyes widened. The tiredness in his eyes before was now long gone and by now his sword was drawn, Pointing straight at Muzan.

"You.. Muzan Kibutsuji" He said. Despite his brave front, Muzan could see through it. He was terrified.

"There it is.." Muzan drawled, Now turning his full body over towards him. Her father made no move to attack him, Only keeping his sword at head level waiting for Muzan's next move.

"What.. What have you done with my wife, My children." Her father asked, The thought tearing through his mind, Scared of the possibilities.

Muzan entertained him, The fact that he had the guts to speak out in the first place spoke volumes.

But before he could answer, The sound of creaking steps and dragging thumps sounded out behind them, Interrupting their conversation.

The mans attention flipped over behind him. Alternating between Muzan and the unknown threat they both watched intently as the presence reached the bottom of the steps.

The mans eyes widened.

At the bottom of the stairs stood [F/N], Drenched head to toe in blood smelling of brass and iron.

But what she held in both hands, That's what made her father fall to his knees.

In both of her hands she dragged the mangled corpses of his wife and kids, [F/N]'s new strength granting her the capability to do so.

In her right held his wife, The corpse had several parts missing. Limbs, Flesh and organs all in various states of degradation.

In her left was the corpse of his second eldest. He wasn't even recognisable, Only the yukata being of any hint to his identity.

He fell to his knees, The sight seeming to defeat him entirely.

His nichirin katana fell out of his grasp, Slipping out with ease once he laid his hands on the corpses. [F/N] watched on at the scene, Gazing down at the broken mess of a man.

"What the.. No.. No this couldn't.." He choked out, Tears starting to form in his eyes and flow down his face. His wife and kids dead, He wasn't here to protect them, To do his duties as a demon slayer.

He moved his eyes up to the face of the culprit, Recognising her as his eldest disappointment of a daughter.

"You.. You monster.." He whispered, Piercing gaze going right through her like an icepick to the heart.

But [F/N] felt nothing as she looked at him, The haze from her mind lifted long ago at the first taste of her meal. This man for her entire life had been a overhanging figure, A threat to what would happen to her if she stepped out of line. His words were nothing new to her ears.

"..Do you have nothing else to call me, Or are you done?" [F/N] asked. She felt the rush of superiority come over her, She was the one in charge now. Not him.

Her father swallowed the lump in his throat. He had nothing else to say, Only choked sobs came out of his mouth.

[F/N] dropped the cadavers in her arms in favour of walking up to her father. Slowly stopping in front of him, Looking down at his weakened form.

Muzan stood only a few feet away from him, Watching over the events unfolding. He was amused at it, Watching [F/N]'s every move.

She raised her hand high, Her new claws spiking out of her fingernails ready to strike.

All these years of torment, Dejection and disgust funnelled towards her. The harassment and hate. Everything she had been through came down to this.

"Go on, My love." Muzan's voice called out, [F/N] glanced over to him "Finish this."

Muzan Kibutsuji, Her fiancée, Her stalker. He called out to her with that eternally caring voice, That same gentle smile edging her on to finish the deed.

She looked back at him and smiled.

And with a quick slash it was finished, Her father was no more.

His severed head dropped onto the tatami mat, She watched as it bounced a few times before rolling away.

Muzan appeared behind her, Wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You did such a good job, My love." He stated, Kissing the back of her head as he pulled her closer. [F/N] sunk into his hold, The coldness a comfort to her.

"T-Thanks.." She grinned, Fireworks continuing to go off. More so once he move a hand to her legs, Manoeuvring her so she was now being carried bridal style by her now fiancée, Not caring how much blood stained his blouse.

Muzan leaned down and left a small kiss on her lips, To which she returned.

"Are you ready to go now, My love?" Muzan asked.

"Always." [F/N] responded, Stars in her eyes.

Muzan smiled, Pulling her close. He looked up and with the single strum of a biwa, He disappeared into the night, Taking [F/N] with him.

Never to be seen again.

1K notes · View notes

devildomwriter · 3 months ago

Text

Obey Me As Tumblr #31

Belphegor: Snail but with no shell

Beelzebub: Oh those is then uuuuuuuuuuu slurms

Satan: A what

•

Diavolo: Maybe dogs lick us so much because they know there’s bones beneath our skin

Lucifer: This is worst thing you’ve said by far, thanks

•

Beelzebub: Aye can I get Uh…..ingredients on my burger

Satan: Beetroot?

Satan: You want beetroot?

Satan: You want fucking beetroot?

Beelzebub: Ingredience

Mammon: This post feels exactly like a conversation you would witness in a dream and think was completely normal and then wake up and think “what the fuck” for a single millisecond and then immediately forget about completely

•

Diavolo: I’ve lost 20% of my couch

Diavolo: Ouch

Solomon: That’s the funniest couch joke I’ve seen sofa

•

Mammon: *begins breakdancing gently* what’s wrong son?

Asmodeus: What the fuck. What does this even mean. Who thinks of this shit, why is it so funny. I hate this site

•

Mammon: You know what really gets my goat?

Barbatos: El chupacabra

•

Leviathan: The future: holograms can physically touch you and there are 12 cases of homicide committed by Hatsune Miku

Solomon: Just 12?

Diavolo: It’ll be 13 if you don’t stop asking questions

•

Satan: Do you ever get so excited you just want to crush a human skull in your hands

Mephistopheles: You just described breathing

Satan: I am fairly certain I Did Not

•

Mammon: I love it when the city gets rainy at night, and the floor gets all reflective and pretty, and everything becomes more vibrant and gorgeous and you can put any fluid on the ground and people will think it’s water, fools

Lucifer: This post was great until the last part, what are you implying

Mammon: Fool

•

Diavolo: Science puns, go!

Belphegor: You must have a pH of 13 cause you basic as fuck

•

Satan: Shut up @ people who still say “science side of tumblr”

Belphegor: Science side of tumblr why is this man so salty

Solomon: Osmosis

•

Satan: 100 years ago everyone owned a horse and only the rich had cars. Today everyone has cars and only the rich own horses

MC: The stables have turned

Mephistopheles: I laughed too hard at this and I hate you for it

•

Leviathan: Guys, I’m sorry but I think December 31st is going to be my last day on Tumblr for this year

Leviathan: …If one more person asks me why I’m leaving

Diavolo: Kids, this is why school is important

•

Simeon: In primary writing school we had a creative writing assignment where we had to ‘write about a character in a new strange environment’ and I wrote about a squid that was somehow transported from the ocean to the forest floor and slowly choked to death for two pages and I’ll never quite forget the look on my teacher’s face because it turns out she wanted ‘this new school is scary, I hope I make friends’ and not a graphic description of a squid dying

Lucifer: Well that’s just the risk you take if you decide to teach creative writing

•

Raphael: Why do stores always say “gifts for her”??? Who is she? Why are millions of Americans being encouraged to buy gifts for this entity? Someone explain

Mammon: We must appease Her

MC: She is all that keeps the darkness at bay. Without Her the Old Ones will rise again, we must not disappoint Her

Solomon: She is watching. She knows.

Last • Next

#obey me shall we date #funny obey me #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me as tumblr #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me leviathan #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 11 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,382

Warnings | +18, bullying, for the moment only this

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | This work originated in Italian, so i apologize for any errors you will find, i am not a native english speaker, so go ahead and write in the comments where and what i can improve! 🥺❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

There was something in the air that day, something that weighed down her chest and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

She looked outside her room and saw large gray clouds looming ominously, it was probably an approaching storm, and even so, she would still have to go to school, she could not escape her school obligations.

She had done so much to escape the harsh judgment of her family members, she knew that attending college was a huge expense for her parents, especially for being an out-of-towner with so much rent and bills to pay, so the only thing she could do to repay them was to get good grades and come out with a more than excellent GPA, without mentioning her problems.

So the girl prepared herself for yet another stressful and gloomy day, surrounded by prof's coaches and daddy's boys who wouldn't stop bragging about their possessions for a moment.

She adjusted her jacket and grabbed the bag containing all the necessary books, grabbed the house keys on the fly and locked the door behind her, not before nodding in the direction of the elderly neighbor who came out with her adorable little wagging dog every morning at that hour.The little Maltese barked in her direction and with a smile walked over to the couple, stroking the soft coat of the dog who, excited, hoisted himself up on two paws, accompanying her caresses with his head. Y/N burst out laughing at that warm expression of appreciation, could it be that only a dog was able to accept it without judgment?

"Do you go to school, Y/N?" asked the lady with a smile.

The girl nodded, "That's right, Mrs. Choi...I have a test today, I hope everything goes well."

"Oh, take it easy, my dear. I really feel that something new will happen for you today," the elderly woman's smile widened and Y/N was interjected.

She was no stranger to the strange outings of the woman, who very often seemed absent-minded and pensive, but a strange chill caught her. She tried to dilute the air with a giggle, "I hope it's also something good," she joked lightly, the woman rippled her lips.

"It depends on your point of view," she shrugged.

Y/N's smile faded away, not wanting to inquire further she decided it was getting quite late and waved a little awkwardly to her wacky neighbor, giving one last caress to the little dog, who continued to bark in her direction, trying to call her back.

"Come on, Y/N...you can get through this day too without too many hiccups," she said to herself, trying to mentally build up her courage. She arrived at the university with a lump in her throat, aware that once she entered the classroom she would see the haughty faces of her classmates again.

She was an outcast and the only classmate with whom she had come to form a decent bond of friendship had to change her address because that faculty was not suitable for her. But to say that she had simply grown tired of being bullied was perhaps easier.

She took a deep breath and entered the classroom, as she presaged, smiles filled with mockery accompanied her all the way to her seat, she took out the appropriate book for that hour of class and ignored everyone, no one however lent her a further glance, the arrival of the teacher had nipped in the bud any attempt at mockery.

Taking a test at the first hour was never easy for anyone, but the girl more than gladly accepted that chance to escape her foolish classmates.

She carried out the task in complete silence, interrupted only briefly by a few balls of paper and notes, some asking her to have her copied, others admonishing her not to sully their own air with her presence. Y/N swallowed, such doggedness seen from an outside eye might have seemed surreal, but to her it was normalcy.

They bothered her just for the sake of it, because she was the one without money, she was the unfashionable girl, she lived in a miserable apartment in a miserable neighborhood, she was everything they were not.

"Psst... Psst, little one!"

Y/N initially ignored that low whisper, but at yet another ball thrown at her head, she turned away in annoyance.

This was Kang Yoozu, one of the boys who worked hardest to make her school life a living hell; he seemed to take pleasure in constant torture and Y/N was often one of his favorite victims.

"What the hell do you want?!" she growled, impatient. He shrugged, "I just wanted to ask you if you were free later."

Y/N frowned, what was that jerk saying?

"Why would you care, Yoozu?" she asked, strangled.

A wicked smile spread across the classmate's face, "Your parents are street food vendors, right? How much can they possibly make per month?"

Y/N found herself gritting her teeth, ignoring the amused exclamations of the others; the professor seemed to have disappeared into thin air, which frustrated the girl even more.

"I don't know what you're getting at, but I suggest you shut your mouth," she said harshly and Yoozu's eyes narrowed.

"I'm just wondering how they were keep you, don't you think it's incumbent on them to lighten their load and earn money in other ways?"

The young woman blanched at the outrageous statement-what the fuck was she implying?! "And let's hear it-what would those ways be?" she rose from her chair under everyone's gaze.

Yoozu looked around with feigned interest, then elbowed his seatmate, chuckling.

"Well, I have a lot of money, a fuck or two wouldn't hurt, don't you think? You would earn honestly on your own strength," the whole class erupted in convulsive laughter, Y/N felt humiliated. She had endured much from them, had swallowed a myriad of bitter morsels, but no, that one would not let her get away with it.

In a very brief instant she found herself facing the smug boy who stared at her with satisfaction, and soon the scarlet shape of five perfectly outlined fingers was stamped on the candid face of that being, a being who for two years had made it unbearable for her to study for a better future. The noise was a dull pop and everyone fell silent.

Yoozu's eyes turned icy, and soon he jerked up from his chair, flipping it behind him.

"You dared too much, beggar" he made to approach threateningly, no one would intervene, she knew, but fortunately the professor's voice stopped whatever was about to happen.

"What the heck is going on in this class? Y/N! Yoozu! Go back to your seats immediately before I suspend your test."

The man's threatening voice made the boy take a step back, Y/N went back to her seat, but she felt the threatening gaze of her companion behind her the rest of the time, until the end of the hour sounded and everyone got up to leave their verifications on the professor's desk, who collected all the papers and added something to the register, which Y/N guessed was about her and Yoozu. A sick feeling invaded her stomach, she did not want her average to drop because of a bastard like Kang Yoozu, he had practically invited her to prostitute herself. With him.

Disgusted she took the art sketchbook from her bag, a small smile was born on her lips.

Classes with Professor Jeon always gave her a chance to get through the day in a slightly more uplifted mood.

He was a young boy ready to put himself on the front lines to help his students, older than her by five years, he had found a place in the university where he had studied because all the school staff thought he was deserving of getting a professorship there. And, Y/N admitted at least to herself, he was handsome as well as kind and helpful. She felt her heartbeat increase when her favorite professor made his entrance into the classroom, greeting all his pupils with a bright smile, exchanged a few words with the older professor who gave way to him, and during that conversation the girl clearly heard the excited murmurs of her classmates. They did not think much about it, giving vent to their shamelessly enamored sighs.

Y/N merely shrugged her shoulders as the young professor took a seat behind the desk and gave everyone a jovial look.

"Good morning, guys" he said quietly, a chorus of "good morning" and "hello" rose from the desks.

Y/N watched spellbound as the corner of his lips slightly lifted in a satisfied smile of the man, her professor's long hair that day was tied in a ponytail that the girl found damn adorable, which contrasted with the tattoos that decorated the entire arm left uncovered by the pulled-up shirt sleeve, the man crossed his arms and his biceps swelled in a hypnotic movement that caught the girl unprepared, she felt her body set on fire and with shame removed her gaze.

What she did not know was that Jungkook was also watching her. He never let her out of his sight, in truth.

From the first time he had caught her rushing into the classroom, wet as a tender chick, Jungkook could not help but feel a strange flutter every time he laid eyes on his pupil. Their eyes had met for the first time that day, a rush had gone through him from side to side, thunderstruck by that little figure who had bowed in apology over and over again.

And it was wrong, he should never have taken an interest in one of his students like that, but he was a man, a man with secret feelings and appetites, and everything about Y/N screamed timidity and fragility.

He wanted to protect her, wanted to take her away, wanted to make her his.

He knew about the way her classmates treated her, his colleagues sometimes talked about it during lunch breaks, this was terrible for him, it hurt him to even imagine the way the girl felt, he would have protected her if it was possible, but each time the bullying happened in his absence, and as a professor he could do nothing if Y/N herself did not ask for help. He could not punish the perpetrators without catching them in the act. The young man sighed, before lowering his eyes to the register, frowning at what he found written there.

"Park Y/N and Kang Yoozu were found standing during testing time, they looked like they were about to start a fight, I intervened in time to put them in their place."

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he read his student's name next to Y/N's.

The girl was too quiet a person to provoke a quarrel, his dark irises stopped on Yoozu, who was giggling along with his partner as his scribbled something in sketchbook.

Y/N, on the other hand, waited quietly and composedly for her class to begin, and that told Jungkook a lot about the dynamics of the strange event described by his colleague.

He rose from his chair clearing his throat, all eyes were soon on him.

He sensed the mischievous glances of the girls in his direction, he knew he was very much desired, after all he was the only young professor in the institution, but he did not let those attentions buy him, the only gaze he wanted on himself was that of the same girl who was anxiously crushing her fingers.

He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms again, and in Y/N's gaze he read something very much like... desire? He looked at her, biting his lips for a thousandth of a second, clenching the tender flesh between his teeth, but that minimal amount of time was enough for the girl to widen her eyes and lower them immediately afterward, her cheeks flushed. Jungkook felt himself tightening in his pants, thinking that he was so adorable that he wanted to fuck her right then, in front of everyone.

He would have gladly made her cry as his cock penetrated her deeply.

"Guys, today I'm not going to talk to you about history and artists," he began, his voice crystal clear and smooth, "But about a subject that, unfortunately, will never stop being talked about," he paused behind Yoozu's desk.

He observed the lines drawn by the boy on the once-clean page, Yoozu made to cover his scrawl, but Jungkook was quick to catch him, "Let me see a bit, Kang," he said, before taking a better look at that jumble of shapeless lines, which took on the appearance of a naked girl with a tear-streaked face, there was a uniform at the corner of the paper and a bag, which Jungkook immediately recognized, raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction and returned the object to him, not without first tearing up the page, "Drawing your companions without clothes is not what I asked you to do, Yoozu.

Employ my hour to draw something in good taste, instead of indulging in such disgusting antics," the man scolded him harshly. The student bowed his head, humiliated, apologetically, and his deskmate turned away, as if to put some distance between himself and his friend, which the teacher laughed at internally. It was precisely people like Yoozu who had no friends.

Jungkook finally turned around and walked in Y/N's direction, stopped just behind her and lowered himself until he reached her ear, "Today's lesson is about bullying," he murmured, the girl felt her legs trembling under his low and sweet tone, she meekly nodded, writing on a vacant page the theme, then Jungkook raised his voice slightly, "I would like you all to draw a representation of bullying, also writing a small dedication to the kids who experience it firsthand."

When the young teacher turned away from her, Y/N resumed breathing normally.

Everyone caught the stinging reference, the girl gazed admiringly at Jungkook's strong shoulders, perfectly aligned in a proud posture that Y/N had no trouble finding attractive, clutched the pencil grip and set to work, unaware of the forbidden desire she aroused moment by moment in her teacher.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere

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bearambles · 4 months ago

Text

sober (haymitch a.)

words: 3.9k

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f + m receiving) , teasing (?), too much plot 😭

notes: this is so late! i am so sorry to whoever requested, i got super busy and couldn’t post it the day i planned. also, this is my first ever smut! so i am sorry if this is terrible, i’ll get better over time. enjoy!

The party lasted hours. Your feet hurt, your stomach is churning, and your head pounds. You've never wanted your district bed more than now. This place reeks of wealth and lies.

Unfortunately, skipping these monthly events would anger Snow. He already dislikes you and your district, so you have to do whatever it takes to please him. If that means enduring long nights of drinking and throwing up, so be it. It's better than death, you suppose.

There's only one other District 12 victor here with you, and he disappeared halfway through the night. Haymitch, despite being a good friend and your former mentor, is possibly the worst person to rely on in these social situations. He's been sitting at the bar for who knows how long, drinking who knows how much. It's only when the host literally announces it's time to leave that you find him, slumped over the counter on a stool.

"Haymitch? Come on, we have to go," you urge, shaking his shoulders.

"What? No, let me stay. I'm sleeping," he mumbles.

"You're not sleeping. You're fine. Here, I have one of those drinks that make you throw up. It'll sober you up enough to say goodbyes," you say, handing him the glass. He pushes it back towards you without even looking up.

"I don't want that Capitol shit."

"This Capitol shit will help you a lot right now. Haymitch, get up!" You push his head to the side so you can see his face. He opens his eyes to look at you.

He's only in his late twenties, but his eyes seem older. He looks as rough as he acts. His hair is too long, and his beard is starting to come in slightly, despite him saying he'd groom himself for this occasion. Still, he looks handsome. Not that it matters; his current state reflects his antisocial night.

"Please. I'm trying to keep us out of trouble. You've been alone all night. At least come say goodbye to people with me. Then we can go home, okay?"

If harshness isn’t working, you'll try being soft with him. Sometimes, just sometimes, it works. It seems to today.

He sighs and sits up, steadying himself with his palms flat on the counter. He reaches for the purple liquid and swallows it like a shot, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing.

"Okay, I'll be back then," he says, going off to throw up.

You nod and take a seat on the stool next to where he was sitting, waiting. You can't help but feel guilty. You should have stayed with him longer that night before he went off on his own. You knew he'd go drinking, but you didn’t know it would get this bad.

Since you've known Haymitch, he's had a bit of a drinking problem. Mostly under control when he mentored you—never more than tipsy. But in recent years, as more of his tributes lost the Games, it's gotten worse. It's weighing on him, you can tell. You want to help so badly.

"Okay, let's go," he says, returning a few minutes later, running his fingers through his hair. He's clearly sobered up a bit, maybe even washed his face. His breath smells of mint.

The host and his wife are among about a dozen people remaining by the time you leave the bar and walk to the main room together. Nonetheless, you both put on a show, shaking hands and smiling, thanking them endlessly. You never know who's watching, present or otherwise.

As you make your rounds to the last few victors, Haymitch latches his arm closely with yours. The move surprises you; you realize he hasn't been this physical in a while. It seems to come with sobriety or maybe just part of the Capitol's show. Together, you almost look like a couple. It's odd.

When you leave through the doors, he doesn't let go of your arm. It's a cold night, and you shiver, but the warmth of his body next to yours feels weirdly nice.

"Thank you," you say, looking up at him on the train ride home.

"For what?" he asks, furrowing his brows.

"For taking the glass. I know you hate that stuff, but—"

"But I need to get sober," he says, looking away from you into the distance.

"I didn't say that, but it's nice when you are. I mean, it's helpful with the image when you aren't stumbling around—"

He detaches his arm from yours.

"So I shouldn't drink because the President said so?"

"He didn't say so, Haymitch. I'm saying so. You shouldn't drink because I say so."

"And why's that?"

"Because I like you better like this."

He goes quiet, then looks down at his feet, his hair falling in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's harder than it looks, sweetheart."

"I know that. I'm sorry," you say softly.

The rest of the ride is quiet. It's just the two of you on the train, and any sound you make seems to echo for ages. Neither of you wants to speak; too much is unsaid.

You care about him; you know that. You just aren't sure how. Though it seems increasingly clear to you in moments like this when all you want to do is tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him softly. You have no idea how he'd feel about that, though. You have no idea how he feels most of the time.

In fact, just then, it's the first time he's seemed to feel bad about his drinking. And it doesn't seem like he cares about his health or the Capitol's opinion on his image. It seems like he feels bad for disappointing you.

When the train stops, you both get out, him first, then you. He offers his hand as you step down, and you take it with a slight smile. His hands are cold, as is the night.

Your houses are directly next to each other in Victor's Village, making the walk there excruciatingly awkward. You can't tell what he's thinking, or if he's thinking at all. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he speaks.

"That stuff is really nasty, you know that?" he says.

You look up at him. "The purging stuff?"

"No, the desserts they were serving," he says, rolling his eyes and bumping his shoulder against yours. "Yeah, the purging stuff."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're right. What you said and stuff. That's all right. You're right."

You smile and look up at him. He looks back at you and smiles softly, then looks away. He clearly hates to admit it.

"Don't be cocky about it, though. And don't expect me to stop. It's not that easy."

"I don't. I just like you like this."

"Yeah, you mentioned that. What do you mean?"

You've reached your house, and he stops in front of your door, feet planted. He looks down at you with a questioning gaze, and his blue eyes seem to dart across your face. Your cheeks flush. You have no idea what to respond.

"You know, just... sober," you say, looking away.

"No, I know, but the 'like' part. What do you mean? Because you got all shy when you said it," he says, swaying a bit where he stands, impatiently waiting for a response.

"I don't know," you say quietly.

"You don't know?"

"No. I think we should go to sleep. You should go to sleep. No more drinks. At least wait until tomorrow."

You try to push past him to your door, but he takes both hands out of his pockets and gently shoves your shoulders back. Not hard, but enough to make you stumble. He gazes down at you and steps forward, closing the space between you.

"Whoa, you're so eager all of a sudden. Look at me," he says, tilting your head up with a hand under your chin. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

"I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. You like me?"

"Haymitch, stop. You're—" You stop, tears pricking at your eyes. He's teasing you, you're sure of it. The last thing you want is for him to figure out your feelings. Not after he's been your mentor, not after he's seen you at your worst, after he's been your friend (?) for this long. It doesn't make sense. You know that. And he knows that, most definitely. That's why you're sure he doesn't feel that way towards you. He can't.

"You're crying. I thought you were all tough?" he says.

He's right. You were tough. Crying makes you weak. You hate talking like this. So honestly.

"Stop it," you jerk away from his hand, which had crept up to your cheek. "Go to bed."

But you don't take a step forward, don't shove past him again. You just stand there, your breath heavy, looking away. He gazes at you like he's seeing you for the first time, his eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth to your body.

"I don't want to. I want to talk to you," he finally says.

"About what?" you say, still looking away.

"Us," he says softly.

"What about us?"

He takes a step forward.

"Come on, sweetheart. You're so good to me. Take care of me. Trust in me. Give me hope."

Your breathing speeds up as you feel his hand stoke your arm gently up and down as he speaks. You’d always been cautious of his words, so used to his drunken thoughts being untrustworthy and sometimes cruel. But this feels honest. Real.

“I know you feel something.” he says as you lift your head to look back at him. “You might not know what. I don’t know either. But c’mon.”

He starts to lean closer and your eyes drift closed. Before you can even register, his lips are on yours, and you’re kissing back. Your hands hold his elbows and his hold your face.

His mouth tastes of the mouthwash from the capitol washrooms. He’s so slow with you, like he’s trying not to scare you. You aren’t sure if he possibly could.

Suddenly you pull away.

“What’s wrong?” Haymitch asks, his eyes wide.

“We should go inside.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He registers quickly what you mean.

All along the village are cameras for the capitol to see what goes on. Although it’s unlikely you’d get in much trouble for a kiss, you never knew what would land you a meeting with snow. Or just become the talk of the next victor event.

You push past him and unlock your door quickly, before turning back to him, motioning for him to come inside. By the time you close the door, he’s kissing you again, this time the careful act gone. He catches your lips and kisses you like his life depended on it. It’s messy and wet and you’re so turned on it’s insane.

His hands both reach down to hold yours, and he pushes them up against the door. The motion catches you by surprise and you moan softly into his mouth. He hears you and holds down tighter on your wrists, just enough to feel but not to hurt.

His knee starts to spread your legs apart slowly as he kisses down your neck, and you let his name slip from your mouth.

“Haymitch~”

He stops to look at you.

“Yeah? You like this?” He sounds like he’s genuinely asking. Like he needs to know.

You nod, your brain already fuzzy.

“Okay. Okay.” He sounds out of breath but resumes

his task, getting down to your collarbone.

Hes rough with his kisses when he’s below where any marks would be seen. As he unbuttons your shirt, he looks at you, smiling like an idiot. It hits you then that he seems to have wanted this as badly as you all along. He leans in to leave a soft kiss on your lips before pulling your sleeves off your arms and throwing your top to the floor.

“Jesus…” He mutters as he looks down at your tits.

You reach behind you to unhook your bra, and let it all forward and land next to your shirt.

“Holy fuck.”

You laugh quietly at his words. He looks up at you in awe and with a look of asking as he creeps his hands from your waist up to your chest. You nod and let out a sharp breath when his cold hands hold your tits and knead them slowly.

You wonder then if he’d ever done this with a woman before. He was younger than you when he won, so probably not before the games. And after…he’d never really seemed the type. But then again, he was attractive and still young, so you couldn’t be sure.

Besides him, you’d only been with one or two boys from district before you were reaped. They were, however, nothing like this.

He takes one nipple between his thumb and pointer, pinching slightly. Between the pressure and his cold hands, you let out a noise of surprise and pleasure.

“Does that hurt?” He asks

“No, just…it’s a lot.” You say through deep breaths. “K-keep going.”

He smiles and does the same with the other, and your hips jut forward slightly in reaction. He doesn’t notice, which you’re grateful for. You’re so eager it’s embarrassing. Every touch makes your stomach flip and your underwear wetter.

Slowly he starts to kiss down from your collarbones to your chest and takes a breast in his mouth. He looks up at you as he sucks softly, his tongue swirling your nipple. His big eyes looking into yours makes you feel like you could cum then and there. you let out a moan instead.

He plays with your breasts for a while longer before they’re nice and covered in both his spit and dark, red marks. He knew what he was doing, putting them where nobody could see. you thought of changing in front of a mirror days to come, just looking at them. Knowing it was from him. sober. He wants this.

He gets to his knees before you can stop him, and begins to pull down your skirt.

You’re left in your underwear, your slick having left a clear spot in the front. You turn your head in embarrassment as he touches up your thighs and leaves open mouth kisses.

“All this from that, huh?” he asks, laughing softly

“Shut up.” you mutter into your hand.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, his fingers hooked under the sides of your panties.

“N-no.”

“What was that sweetheart? C’mon, look at me.”

“Don’t stop.” you say, clearer now, making eye contact as he kneels in front of your pussy. You couldn’t be more vulnerable, and yet, you trust him with every inch of your being.

He looks back at your core for a moment before licking a stripe up the thin fabric. You curse quietly and he pulls them down, the air hitting your heat before his tongue does. But when it does…

He laps at you like he’d wanted to for years, which you’re now sure that he has. The urgency makes your legs buckle and he uses both hands against your knees to hold them open. He switches between your folds and your clit, paying attention to both. Every so often he stops and just admires.

At some point haymitch sucks at your clit, and your hands fly to his hair, pulling slightly.

He lets out a groan of surprise against your core.

“Sorry, sorry…” you mutter, loosening your grip.

“No, keep going, I like it.” he says, stopping to look up at you, his eyes nearly glazed over in bliss.

You resume your hold on his head and tug as he continues. Between his lips and his tongue, you’re overwhelmed. before you know it, you feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Stop…stop…” you manage in between moans.

He gives you one last kiss to your clit before standing up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You okay?”

“Just don’t wanna finish yet.” you say without thinking, before getting flushed. Even after all that, you couldn’t believe you were speaking to him like this. Haymitch.

He smiles lazily and goes in to kiss you again, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. It should repulse you, but instead, it turns you on more. He's so happy right now, and it’s so hot.

“Do you wanna go to my bed?” you ask him when you get a breath, his forehead resting against yours.

He picks you up and carries you.

Haymitch knows your house as well as his from all the press training, meetings, and late night conversations you’ve had there. He practically lives with you at this point (Besides the sleeping over part. Usually. Unless he’d passed out.)

He drops you on your mattress and pulls off his own shirt in one motion. Your breath is caught in your throat.

You knew he was in shape, at least he was when he had mentored you all those years ago. But even now, behind the big shirts he wears and raggedy jackets, soft abs trace his stomach. His arms as big as your thighs. No wonder the pressure on your neck felt so nice.

He sees you staring and smiles, leaning down to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You gonna say anything, pretty girl?”

You try, but you find no words. Instead, you kiss him, and slowly trail your hands down his chest. you can feel raised scars and for a moment, remember what he’s been through. What you both have been through.

You reach his belt and whisper into his mouth,

“Can i?”

He nods against your forehead and you start to undo it, throwing it to the side. You pull his pants down with urgency and run your palm against his boxers.

He lets out a noise you’ve never heard him make before, a mix between a whimper and a moan. You smile and start to palm him faster, before taking him out of his underwear and looking between you at his length.

He’s bigger than you expect, and definitely bigger than the boys you’ve been with before. A solid seven inches and thick. Your eyes can’t look away and your breath rises and falls.

He takes your hand softly into his and guides it to his length. He looks up at you as he does, searching for any hesitation in your eyes. Instead, you look up at him before flipping you both over quickly, so you sit on his thighs.

He’s strong, but so are you, and he doesn’t resist as you take charge over him. He does, however, look a bit surprised, and reaches to hold your hand again. You take it and kiss it, which he smiles at. Then, you lean down, and let a glob of spit dribble from your mouth to his cock.

“Jesus christ…” he mutters, as you use your free hand to pump up and down. “When did you…fuck…feels so good sweetheart”

You smile and take him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down quickly. His other hand still holding yours, he grips at your hair (much gentler than you did his) and makes a make-shift ponytail so he can see your pretty face.

Despite the view, his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, and your pace quickens. You feel him pulse inside your mouth and you’re sure he’s about to cum.

You take him as deep as you can before pulling off, leaving his cock hard as a rock and covered in your saliva. You admire your work for a moment before he reaches forward and pulls you on top of him by your hips so you’re right against his chest.

“C’mere” he moans, fucked out, before taking his cock in his own hand and looking over your shoulder to position himself in front of your entrance.

“You want this?” he asks, taking your cheek in his free hand and stroking his thumb against it.

“Please.” you whisper.

Slowly, he inserts himself into you, catching your moans in his mouth as he kisses you slowly. He stretches you out so well, and your slick helps him move without much pain. Still, you bite down on his lip at the feeling of being full once he’s in. You let out a whimper.

“I know baby, I know. Shhhh. Tell me when to move, okay?” he looks into your eyes.

For a moment you just kiss him, his mouth so warm on yours and his cock so warm inside you. You could die like this.

Then, you pull away, and lift your hips, before slowly moving back down.

“Fuck…” he moans, before catching into the pace you set and moving you up and down on his cock. “So perfect for me, yeah? You feel that?”

You nod dumbly at his words. He could say anything to you at this moment, and you’d agree. He feels so good. So right.

“You wanted this huh? Is that why you want me sober? To fuck me?” he asks, and you shake your head as you bounce on his dick.

“Hm, but that’s part of it, yeah?” he insists, “You like this. Me. C’mon sweetheart, you’re needy. That's okay, I'm givin’ it to you. I'm here.”

You fall against him and place your head on his shoulder as he fucks into you like you’re a doll. He knows just what to say to get you so embarrassed and so wet. The words only add to your pleasure and you can feel yourself getting close.

“Haymitch…” you moan against his shoulder.

“M’ close pretty thing.”

He takes one of the arms holding your hips and moves to your clit, rubbing quickly. The feeling sends you over the edge.

“Fuck, haymitch, i’m cumming~” you mutter, raising your head to look at him as you fletch down and your orgasm washes over you.

As you come down from your high, he speeds up rutting into you, and you put each hand on one of his shoulders for support. His eyes are closed and his mouth slightly open as he mind your name over and over like a prayer.

He lifts you off of his cock and back onto his thighs before cumming all over your belly. You reach a hand down to stroke him as he does, but he catches your wrist. He’s sensitive, you can tell, and you laugh softly.

“Sorry pretty girl. Made a mess.” he says, looking in between the two of you. Between his cum and yours, there’s not a part of either of you that isn’t slick. He takes a finger and swipes a bit of his own before putting it in front of your mouth. Grinning, you take it in your mouth and suck, tasting him.

“Jesus.” he says softly, as you lay down next to him, your face buried into his neck.

You lay there like that for a moment, breathing. His hair sticks to his face in certain places, and his cheeks are rosy. The reality of what had happened hits you.

“You know, this isn’t the only reason you should drink less-“ You begin, propping your head up on your hand.

He sighs.

“I know. I’m too happy right now for lectures though, alright?”

You consider for a moment before deciding that’s fair. Laying back down, you cuddle into his side.

“You admit this is part of why though, huh?” he says after a few moments, and you can hear the smugness in his voice.

“Was it worth it?” you ask

There’s a pause.

“I’d do anything for you.” he answers.

And for now?

That’s all you need.

tysm for reading! like + reblog if you enjoyed :)

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch smut #haymitch abernathy smut #the hunger games #the hunger games smut #the hunger games fic

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himasgod · 1 month ago

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Zhongli x Reader

(maybe angst? 0.8k words :p)

Where Zhongli and you talk about mortality in the rite of ascension of an adeptus

The hall of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was plunged into solemn silence. The crackling of candles and the soft scent of incense filled the air as you stood beside Zhongli, watching as Hu Tao made the final preparations. The Rite of the Ascension of an Adeptus was not something you saw every day; it was a unique ceremony, marked by perfection in every detail, from the attire to the weather. Nothing could go wrong. And yet, you felt like something inside you had already begun to crumble.

Zhongli, with his usual composure, watched you from the corner of his eye. His upright, elegant posture reflected centuries of wisdom and experience, but today, there was a shadow in his gaze. Perhaps because this farewell affected not only the Adeptus, but you as well.

“Are you okay?” he asked you, his voice deep, like the echo of a distant mountain. His words, though simple, carried an unwavering weight. You knew that, even if it was silent, he was always watching you, attentive to you in an almost imperceptible way.

You nodded, although you knew your eyes said something else. The farewell of an Adeptus, a being that had coexisted with mortals for millennia, symbolized much more than the departure of a life. It was a reminder of the fragility of existence and how, in the end, everything fades away.

“It is difficult…” you began, hesitating whether to continue. “Watching them leave, when one always thinks that the gods and the Adeptus are immortal, that they will always be there.”

Zhongli was silent for a moment. The candlelight flickered on his face, highlighting the lines of worry in his serene expression. “Adeptus also have their limited time in this world. Although it may not seem so, each of us must, at some point, fulfill our final duty and depart.” His words were cold, like a sentence you could not avoid.

It wasn’t the first time you’d discussed mortality with him. You knew that Zhongli, or rather Rex Lapis, had made his own choice: to leave his position as the Geo Archon and live among mortals. However, that decision didn’t eliminate the gap you felt between the two of you. He was eternal, while you were just a mortal, bound by time.

“And you? Will you one day leave too?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them. You didn’t want to face the possibility of losing him, you didn’t want to admit what that thought did to your heart. But at the same time, you needed to know.

Zhongli stared at you, and in his eyes you saw a mix of understanding and sadness. “I’ve already made my choice,” he said, with a slight sigh. “But the contracts I made with this world have not yet come to an end. When they do, I will also fulfill my own destiny.”

The weight of his words crushed you. You knew he had given up his Gnosis, that he was no longer the god he once was. Yet his connection to Liyue, to mortals, and to the Adeptus, remained a deep and unbreakable bond. And one day, when those bonds were broken, he would be gone too.

The pain of that thought was like a heavy stone on your chest, something you couldn’t ignore. You knew the relationship between the two of you was marked by temporality, but still, you had hoped, perhaps naively, that that moment would never come. “And what will become of me when that moment comes?” you asked in a barely audible whisper, fearing the answer.

Zhongli looked away, gazing at the dancing shadows on the walls of the funeral home. “I will remember you, always. But I am rock, and rock does not change. Only mortals like you are the ones who bring change to this world.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears. It was unfair. He had witnessed millennia of history, seen countless people come and go. To him, you were just one part of his long journey, but to you, he was everything.

“How can you say it so casually?” The desperation in your voice was palpable. “How can you speak of my departure as if it were just one of many?”

Zhongli was silent for a long moment. Then, his golden eyes looked at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. “Because I have learned, after thousands of years, that holding on only brings suffering. Goodbyes are part of the natural cycle of life. What really matters is the impact we leave on others while we are here.”

You felt helpless, knowing he was right, but still, the bitterness of pain consumed you. “And what impact will I leave on you, Zhongli? Will I be just another memory in your eternity?”

He moved closer to you, his fingers gently brushing your cheek, a gesture filled with affection, but also farewell. “You will be more than that,” he said softly. “You will be a contract in my heart, one I will never break.”

But, even with that promise, you knew that one day he would depart, leaving only the echo of his words and the weight of his absence.

And in that moment, you realized there was no consolation for the void he would leave behind.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #idk how to tag this again

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petew21-blog · 6 months ago

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Let me take your sunglasses

Another story form inbox: I love all yours body swap stories! They are so hot! Would you maybe do a story involving an obese businessman swapping bodies with a hunky cop that pulls him over.

Imagine getting pulled over by this cop. Hot right? Yeah, that's who I want to be. I just can't find the right moment for the swap. All I need is to just look into his eyes. Which was a problem the first two times I got intetionally pulled over. He was wearing those stupid sunglassess. A minor mistake in my diabolical plan

Oh, sorry. Forgot to introduce myself to you. My name is Phillip Kingston. I come from a high class family, but as you can't see I am not a very desirable person that would fuck many women. That's why I found a way to swap bodies. i got all I need, the only thing left is to make an eye contact.

Today is the day it will work. I am sure of it. I get into my car. It takes some time with my body as you can imagine. I drive to the highway and speed as much as possible. And just as expected. The same police car's sirens start and the get near me.

We both stop. I open the door of my car.

"Stay where you are sir! Don't move."

"No, please, officer. You have to help me, it's my medication. It(s my heart. I have to take it or I die." I do my best to make the story believable and sound like I am in agony.

He rushes to me and opens the door. "Ok, hold on sir. I'll help you. Where are those pills. Under the seat?"

I nodded and he stretched over me to get a better view. Now or never. My right hand shot out and grabbed his glasses. The shock of the situation only allowed him to look me in my eyes.

I blinked and then looked at myself sitting there, hyperventilating.

"Looks like you should walk home instead of driving you fat fucker!" I said to my ex body and laughed him in the face. I left him there in the state of pure shock. He tried to get me, but he wasn't used to this new obese body and couldn't even get out of the car.

I can't believe it actually worked. I smiled at my new beautiful face in the rearview mirror and put on the sun glasses.

"Well officer. Looks like we got a lot of exploring tonight. How about we visit some old friends of mine?" I couldn't help but keep looking at my new reflection.

I arrived to my favourite gay bar. Why favourite you ask? Well, all the customers there were incredibly fit, sexy and horny as fuck. All of the have already swapped an they were the ones who got me this opportunity for a new life.

I smashed the door open. "Police. Everybody on the ground!!!" I screamed holding my gun aiming into the ceiling.

Nobody moved for a moment and then they all cheered.

"No way, we thoughtyou'd never get him. Come here, let's check you out. Give us some posing action, officer!"

Yeahhh. You can imagine how the evening continued right. And hey. If you wanna join our club, just head straight to the bar. We'll help you pick a new body of your dreams

#body swap #body switch #body theft

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whateverisbeautiful · 2 months ago

Text

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#62: The Happy Beginning (1.06)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Richonne got their much-deserved happy ending, and better yet, I adore that Richonne and their children's happy ending is really a happy beginning. 🥹

Because now, the everyday life with their family truly starts. So rather than feeling solely like a closed chapter, the story lands on a hopeful and positive note that feels like “...and so it begins." The life Rick and Michonne always wanted to live together can now begin again.

So while it’s also a perfect final note for us as we (seemingly) no longer get to go with them into the next chapters, I appreciate that we always get to know that there are more bright and hopeful chapters for our Grimes family, together at last 🙌🏽🎉...

I announced these RIR-TOWL posts on July 21st and now they conclude today, September 21st. And I’m super grateful to you all for reliving this TOWL experience with me in-depth for the last 62 days of summer. 🥹🙏🏽

As you can see, saying I have a novels-worth of thoughts on this show was not hyperbolic. 😅 And that's because if this is it, I wanted to go as all out as I could. And because Danai, Andy, & Scott gave their all in creating this love letter to Richonne, I especially wanted to give my all in dissecting, reflecting, and reveling in The One Who Live. If only those three could know how grateful I am to them for this show because it really was a beacon of light during this time in my life. ☀️

In this real world, I’d say love matters most. It’s what makes life worth living to find people and things you love. Love in its many forms, including in fiction, is worth celebrating and enjoying to the fullest.

So that’s really what I’ve tried to do with all these posts over all these years - celebrate one of my favorite ways I’ve ever seen love take shape. It’s been a joy to watch two beautiful characters inside and out depicting the most beautiful love. Falling in love never looked so exquisite. And finding family never felt so rewarding. 😌

And we're finishing strong as we talk about TOWL's final moment where Rick and Michonne embrace the beautiful family they created. 🥹

So - still hugging, Judith and Rick look over at Michonne and RJ. And on top of it being surreal to see Judith grown up now, you can tell for Rick it’s extra surreal to be looking at this little boy who's comprised of him and Michonne and dressed like Carl. 😭

gif cred: @twdfranchise

That’s something that’s also really cool, is after going on this journey of losing and then regaining the image of Carl, Rick now gets to see this child who is Carl’s little brother and has his attributes. And just like Carl always wore Rick’s sheriff hat to feel close to his dad and strong like his dad, Rick gets to see that his youngest son has also done the same.

I love that Judith looks at her mom and gives her her flowers saying, “You got him back.” It was a hefty task but Michonne pulled it off and brought home the Brave Man just like she set out to do. And I love how you can tell Judith is very proud of her mom for that.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Then it's so sweet seeing Michonne smile at Judith and say, “You told me to.” Best mom/daughter duo, y’all. 😭 Plus, TOWL said let us give the viewers one more reminder that Judith wanted her mom to go find their dad. Like this was never an act of abandonment, going after Rick was Michonne’s daughter’s request.

I like how Michonne saying this also feels like she’s saying that knowing her daughter believed she should go was part of the fuel to do it. She did it for her daughter. And for her son. And for her husband. And for herself. For all of them. And Michonne’s giving Judith her flowers too for the way she gave her the push she needed to go get him.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

I love the way Rick is holding one kid and Michonne is holding the other. You know these four are about to be pretty inseparable for a while.

And then you can visibly see the moment they all realize that the time has come for Rick Sr. to meet Rick Jr.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Rick looks at RJ who is smiling up at him while holding onto his mom and then, Michonne has such a happy and proud expression as she presents RJ to his dad.

Michonne definitely has such a sweet “look at this life we made” vibe as she holds onto RJ and steps to the side for the two to have their moment.

It’s sweet how RJ seems understandably reserved at first and holds onto his mom until the last second. And then I love seeing Michonne still keep a comforting arm on her son as Rick stands before him.

Any time I’d picture Rick and RJ’s first interaction, I always pictured one of the first things RJ would note is that this man in front of him is The Brave Man - and sure enough😊. RJ looks up at Rick and the first thing he sweetly says to his dad is, “You’re The Brave Man?”

gif cred: @riickgrimes

This moment is surreal for Rick, and surreal for me too because we're finally seeing a scene with Rick and RJ, the son he created with Michonne. 🙌🏽😭 And I'm so so happy that Rick was able to come into RJ's life while he's still so young. Rick will get to have an active role in RJ's core childhood and adolescent memories now.

Then, I adore Rick’s response to his son's first words to him. He’s immediately emotional and so he takes a breath and instantly looks right over at Michonne - the mother of his child. 🥹

I love the way you see him again find his center when looking at her during this emotional moment. Michonne really is like the glue between them all in this scene. And I like how she has her arms wrapped around one or more of her children at all times during this reunion.

There’s just so much communicated in Rick’s look over at Michonne. It was another "Baby, we made a baby" moment between them as you can see it truly hitting Rick that he's meeting the son he made with his soulmate.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

After Michonne had reassured Rick that he really is the Brave Man that his kids believe him to be along their journey home, I love that Rick now gets to hear it directly from the source.

Rick then looks back at RJ with so much emotion etched on his face as he responds, “I am.” 😭 He doubted if he was the Brave Man before, but I think especially now hearing his little mini-me say it, Rick knows he too can believe that’s who he is.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then I love the way Michonne again expresses how highly she views Rick as she says her final line of TOWL, looking to RJ while holding onto Judith as she smiles and says, “He is.” 🥹

It’s fitting for Michonne's last line to again be one that expresses her utmost belief in Rick. She wants her son to know that this father in front of him really is The Brave Man from years ago and still is The Brave Man right here and now. In fact, now more than ever.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ smiles over at his mom and then looks back up at Rick just adorably beaming. And it really feels like he’s meeting his hero.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then it is precious beyond words when Rick adjusts RJ’s hat just like he’d do with Carl. 🥹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick then leans down and places a hand on RJ's shoulder just like he’d do with Carl too. And I love that Rick is so seamlessly back in father mode.

(Side note: It hit me that Rick will now get to have bonding moments of telling RJ stories about his big brother 😭)

I adore this hat moment between Rick and RJ for so many reasons but especially because we were introduced to Rick Grimes in that hat from the very beginning of TWD. And after going on this years-long whirlwind journey with him, it is so extremely special that Rick's final scene includes him getting to see that hat on his youngest son after it was such a staple to him and his eldest son. 🥲

Rick securing the hat on RJ's head really felt like he wanted his son to know how proud he feels to see him carrying on this Grimes heirloom.

And then Rick so tenderly says, “But maybe you can call me Dad.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love that Rick is so ready and eager to be a dad to his son. And I just know he and RJ will have such an incredible bond. Like Judith and Carl definitely felt like true blue Michonners lol, and RJ is too, but I also like to think RJ’s going to end up really gravitating to Rick. I can fully envision them being a super close father and son. 🥰

Then RJ says with certainty, “I knew you’d come back.” And I love the framing of this scene where you can see all four family members in the shot as they look at the youngest member of the Grimes.

It’s so sweet the way Michonne and Judith are holding each other tight and the way Rick has that fatherly hand on RJ’s shoulders as he looks right at him, likely still marveling that he’s looking at his own flesh and blood right now.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And when RJ says he knew Rick would come back, they all look curious about how the adorable baby of the family knew this. So Rick says his final line of TOWL as he asks RJ, “How?”

Y'all, I love that this is what Rick says for his last line because again, it makes me think of the end of season 4 - the pivotal era when Richonne fell in love with each other - and the classic scene where Michonne says she knows Rick's okay and he asks her "How?"

And just like back then when Michonne gave a beautiful answer to Rick's question and said, "Cause I'm okay too," - Their baby boy RJ also has a beautiful answer to Rick's question.

RJ replies with the final line of TOWL, saying, “I believed.”

The sentiment of RJ revealing that he too was believing a little longer this whole time is so special. 🥹 And it's touching that Rick and Michonne's son gets the last line of this epic love story.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ saying 'I believed' is beautiful because he’s what his parents believed in for the future all those years ago and now his mom and dad get to hear that he believed in them back.

It’s heartwarming thinking first Rick had to believe a little longer that he’d reunite with his family, and then Michonne had to believe a little longer that Rick would reunite with their family, and then they get to see that even the child they created was believing right along with them. A child born from their belief.

As two characters fueled by believing, it really is powerful to see the final note being Rick and Michonne's son doing just that - believing his dad would find his way back to their family. That's the very mission Rick went on since the pilot of this franchise, and his story ends with him succeeding. Rick found his family and isn't going to be taken away from them this time. 🥹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick seems deeply moved to hear his son say this and so he has this emotional smile at him and you can tell he so badly wants to finally hug his son. But again he lets RJ set the pace. And RJ sets the pace perfectly with the best hug. 😭

I adore the way this little boy hugs his dad for the first time. It just was so moving and so clear that he’s been wishing to be able to have his dad in his life for a long time. He needed his father and now here Rick is. 🥲 And Rick wanted this child long ago and now here RJ is.

Seeing Rick finally getting to hold his son, his 'other way to build for the future,' - it's clear Rick needed this too. 🥹

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick really is RJ's hero already, so RJ embraces him fully. And, of course, Rick is immediately reciprocal as he embraces his son and kisses his hat. 😭

I think about how Rick gave Carl that hat after he'd been shot in the woods. Giving Carl the hat was one of the ways Rick aimed to comfort his son during an extremely trying time. And then Carl wore that hat everywhere after. And when he died, it was hard for Rick to even look at the hat. But now the hat has become a positive symbol again as Rick gets to kiss the hat on his youngest son and honor the memory of his oldest son.

It’s so evident Rick and RJ already love each other. And I applaud both actors for only having one hug to show how much they love each other and pulling it off so completely. This Rick and RJ hug is everything, truly. 🥹🙌🏽

I love the way the theme music swells and rises as Rick and RJ stay in that heartfelt embrace, never wanting to let go. And I love Michonne and Judith’s reaction to seeing these boys finally get to meet and appear so instantly bonded. Rick's family means everything to him and in this scene, he gets to see that he means everything to them too. 🥹

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Judith’s emotional response to seeing her little brother meet and hug their dad always puts a lump in my throat. 🥲 Again, it was the perfect big sister-type response. She’s probably felt like a stand-in mom for RJ while Michonne was gone and has been really protective of him and just again wants to know he’s okay. And it’s like in this reunion moment she’s aware that her baby brother really will be okay because now RJ gets to experience a family with both his parents, like she did when she was younger.

And Michonne just seems so happy to see her husband and son be so instantly connected. It has to be the greatest feeling ever to know that this baby she brought into this world alone will now have his father who adores him in his life.

And to see the love of her life, who she knows has been through so much, including the loss of Carl, get to now embrace his son and be a father to their kids again like he most cherished and was devoted to being. 🥹 Michonne so earnestly wanted Rick to have the chance to see the beautiful family they created. And now Rick is seeing it fully. And that visibly brings Michonne's heart pure joy.

gif cred: @kris-lulu

So then, after Rick and RJ get their own moment with this wonderful hug, Michonne and Judith join in for a family group hug and it’s just the epitome of a joyous conclusion for Rick and Michonne and the Grimes family’s story. I adore it. 🙌🏽

Michonne and Judith wrap their arms around Rick and RJ and Michonne and Rick share their final sweet and super married-with-kids kiss. I love the way Michonne smiles as they lean in for the kiss. 😊 And the way Rick of course doesn't stop at one as he leans in for the second kiss. 😋

It's great that after over 100 TOWL kisses they still included one more. It's only right to end the show with a kiss since, again, it's canonically one of Rick and Michonne's absolute favorite things. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

This last kiss is really special because it just again feels like Rick and Michonne having a moment to acknowledge that despite all the odds and obstacles over their many years in TWD, their many years apart, and then on their TOWL journey reuniting - they overcame, fell in the deepest love, and created this beautiful family together.

And now they get to live out their lives with this blissful Grimes family, loving on each other as hard as they can while they can. 🙌🏽

This family hug is just such a sweet moment of connection. I adore the way it’s filmed where it feels like Rick is holding his family and his family is holding him back. The shot with all three of their arms on Rick’s back is art. After a long and epic journey, these three are Rick Grimes' incredible reward. 🥹

(Side note: one of the things I think Rick probably will most like about Michonne's wedding ring is that it can be seen from a very far distance which means everyone from even miles away will know Michonne is taken lol.)

And then we get one more confirmation that Richonne are and always have been magnets. 🧲 Because as the camera pans out from the greatest family hug in history, Rick and Michonne both lower their arms down at the exact same time and do that little comforting thumb rub. You know my extra self is always here for even the subtlest of magnetic synchronicity between the two.

Y'all, this really is the perfect visual to conclude their story to me. 🥹

gif cred: @lousolversons

Like seeing Michonne with her wedding ring-clad hand holding onto RJ while he holds onto his dad and Judith holds onto her and Rick, fills me with joy and emotion when I think about Michonne's whole journey.

Losing a partner and a young son, Mike and Andre, shutting down and living isolated for a while, showing up to a prison with formula for her future daughter Judith, building such a special bond with her son Carl, falling in love with her soulmate Rick, becoming a great leader, and resiliently bringing another son into the world, RJ. She's been through a lot on her journey and I adore how love and family found her and wholly embraced her as she fully embraced them right back.

Michonne Grimes' journey ending with her wrapping her arms around her babies and husband is just beautiful. 🥹🙌🏽

I also love that Judith and RJ will now get to experience their mom having the love of her life back in her life. The kids will see their mom happier and more loved than they’ve ever seen her now that Rick is back with them.

The Michonne they knew was one who was resiliently trying to live in the thick of a unique, lonely, and crippling grief. But now she can be all of her again because her other half has returned and is fully prepared to make up for lost time and love on her and their kids the way they all need.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And seeing Rick be so loved and held by his family after everything in his journey means the world. 🥹

Waking up from a coma to learn the world had ended, refusing to succumb to defeat as he searched for his family, finding the people closest to him from the world before, Carl, Lori, and Shane, and then having to put together that Lori and Shane had fallen for one another in his brief absence. Experiencing the relationship with Lori and Shane crumble and result in death (one of which he had to kill because his 'brother' tried to kill and replace him), going through a mental breakdown but still having to lead, protect, and raise his young son and his newborn Judith.

Then, meeting the love of his life Michonne when she shows up at the prison fence, trying to have opposition with her at first but then falling head over heels in love with her, and no longer having to carry the weight of the world alone because now he has a soulmate who can lead him, lead others, love his children, and love him back to life time and time again. Losing his son Carl twice, realizing his son and family were always with him, and then getting to look in the eyes of his youngest son and finally hold RJ.

Along his journey, Rick endured many opponents, adversity, and painful losses, including losing himself when stripped of his family for nearly a decade. He had many fascinating arcs, many ups and downs, and managed to keep his signature good kind heart intact which is true strength. And no matter who thought they were bigger, better, or badder than him, Rick always proved to be the bravest. And it's the love for his family that made him brave and made him ultimately come out on top.

So Rick Grimes' journey ending with his wife, daughter, and youngest son back in his arms and loving him like he never left is just perfect. 😭🙌🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

That final image of the four of them in this family hug amid the lush greenery truly looks like the embodiment of ‘things break but they can still grow.’ And this whole new plant - this wonderful family Richonne grew - is so well-deserved. Rick and Michonne truly triumphed.🎉

I think about how in 9.03 the song that played over their Family Fun Day with Judith was "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything" and seeing the Grimes family hugging and happy at the end of TOWL is all I ever wanted for them. 🥹

(That's part of why my stance on the future is - whatever it looks like, be it Richonne returning in a quick cameo, or returning for even more than that, or not returning at all, I just want Richonne and their kids to be happy, together, and at peace).

Also, I’m telling you right now, from here on out if Rick can’t get to someone named Michonne, Judith, or RJ within 5 minutes or less, he’s going to feel he’s gone too far away because you know he’s about to be attached to the hip to his family. 😊

I really feel like Rick is going to live out his life just healthily & happily obsessed with his wife and kids and so deeply grateful to Michonne every time he looks at their family and the life they have. Like the way he stays giving Michonne her flowers, you know he’s never going to forget that it was her fighting for him and their kids that allowed them to live out this beautiful life they have now.

As the camera pans out, the four stay in this embrace and it’s just such a bright and rewarding shot. Then they show the sky as helicopters are seen flying ahead, no longer with bombs but with resources. As people noted, Richonne would be the type to not just bring themselves back home but bring back whole helicopters with loads of valuable resources too. Baddest to ever do it. 👑

Seeing the sky with those helicopters is a reminder that the world has gotten a lot bigger since those early TWD days. And after having everything but the kitchen sink thrown their way along their path, here Richonne stand, with their son and daughter, happy, healed, and whole because they’re the ones who live and the ones whose love lives on forever.

And while this might be the end for us getting to follow their story, I again appreciate that Richonne's story closes with not just a happy ending but a happy beginning. The best years are ahead of them now that they get to all be together. And you know this gorgeous family uniting makes Carl beam from ear to ear up above. 😇

Oh and there’s also that deleted Grimes family picnic scene which is a canon moment to me. And I adore it. 🤩 I’d been hoping they’d return to doing those lovely family picnics so I was glad they filmed one. Also, it makes me so happy to remember that RJ is a part of both this current Family Fun Day picnic and the precious one from years before. 😊

In this unaired TOWL picnic scene, I love seeing Judith laughing and relishing Mom and Dad being back with them like she always believed they’d be. She grew up on these Family Fun Day picnics and now years later she gets to enjoy them again. 🥲

I love seeing intelligent little RJ holding the Rubik's cube and wearing the signature Grimes Sherrif's hat in between his mom and sister. And I especially love seeing RJ already seem so comfortable and smiley with Rick. (I love how they said the young actor Antony really gravitated to Andy. 🥹 This picnic clip definitely gave a glimpse of that)

I love seeing Michonne wearing that pretty and colorful dress and smiling so brightly with her family reunited. The flowy outfit choice is meaningful to me because, at the top of TOWL, she was given this guarded armor and similarly had to live with figurative guarded armor since Rick’s TWD departure. But now that she’s got her loving husband and kids back she gets to just fully take down all armor and be so free, open, safe, and loved as a woman, wife, and mother. 🙌🏽

And I love seeing Rick look so relaxed, playful, and elated to be here with his wife and kids. He looks like he's once again winning that Husband & Dad of the Year title. And the way he’s smiling and laughing basking in this moment, you can see he adores his family so much. This Grimes family moment is everything Rick and Michonne wanted for their lives. And this is everything I wanted for them too. 🥹

gif cred: @nessawakenobi

In the actual TOWL ending, as they panned out from the Grimes family hug, it doesn’t feel like they're becoming distant from us but rather we’re seeing the full picture and letting the Grimes family love fill the entire space.

And as the Grimes family embraces and fills the screen with love, the music rises and the show fades to black, officially concluding The One’s Who Live. 👏🏽😭 BEAUTIFUL.

That also concludes the TOWL season finale revelings and The Ones Who Live revelings as a whole. We made it! 🥳 What a series. What a journey. What a gift Richonne is. 🥹

You know I gotta happy dance one more time over Richonne, TOWL, and the epic love story we've been blessed to witness from 2012 when Michonne and Rick's paths first crossed to 2024 when their love story reached its highest heights, and concluded perfectly.

If you had told me when I started documenting my Richonne observations back in 2017 that years later there would be a whole miniseries dedicated to Richonne’s epic love story, I would have been pleasantly surprised but I’d also believe you because Richonne is truly the gift that keeps on giving. 🎁

I adore how TOWL really came and checked so many of the Richonne wishlist boxes. Rick calling Michonne his wife ✓, the proposal and wedding ring ✓, the RJ reveal ✓, the improved lighting ✓, the scenes with impactful, unvague, and rich dialogue ✓, the intimacy ✓, the Grimes family reunion ✓, the Grimes family reunion with all the original actors ✓, and much more. They gave Richonne their things, honey. 👏🏽😌

And I especially love the way The Ones Who Live ultimately landed on a message of love being what comes to the rescue when the world falls apart. Love is what it's all about at the end of the day.

Along their years-long journey, the way Richonne fell in love was beautiful. And the way they stayed in love was just as beautiful. I’m so grateful to have witnessed Rick and Michonne Grimes' powerful journey from first locking eyes at a prison fence in season 3 to looking into each other's eyes with such adoration and appreciation as they agreed to have a child together in season 9. To now reuniting with that lovely child and their dear daughter in TOWL.

Rick and Michonne have remained such captivating characters over the years, and so much of that has to do with the incredible artists that bring them to life.

Andy and Danai are generational talents with such compatible gifts - exceptional eye acting, line delivery, vulnerability, physicality, and raw honesty infused in their craft. And then you add to that playing compelling characters in love, allowing them to tap into their rare and extraordinary chemistry. You’re bound to get something special when pairing them together like this. 👏🏽

So I'm grateful to the whole TOWL cast & crew, and most of all the captains - Andy, Danai, and Scott. We really got to see Richonne through their eyes with TOWL. 🥹 And the way those three view Richonne and bring this love story to life is resplendent. I love that with The Ones Who Live they told the story they wanted to tell - and we Richonne fans were just happily in alignment with the vision. 😌

They’re the type who put thought into even something like Rick and Michonne's hand placement in bed at the end of TWD 6.10 because they care about how Richonne is portrayed in every frame. And I will forever appreciate their attention to detail with Richonne. All these RiR posts really are my way of saying that the thought and care put into crafting these exceptional characters and their exemplary love story don't go unnoticed.

Andy and Danai have given us so much as Rick and Michonne over the years so whether this is 'goodbye for good' or 'goodbye for now,' I respect it.

The iconic roles of Rick and Michonne were truly meant for them. Danai and Andy approached these characters with love, respect, thoughtfulness, and passion, and ensured Rick and Michonne were in good hands. So I just can't thank them enough. 🙏🏽🥹

Also, a big thank you to the gifted Richonne GIF creators. 👏🏽🤩 You are invaluable staples to this fandom and your gifs of Richonne's TOWL & TWD moments are beautiful. Linking to your amazing gifs helped me elevate these posts and string this all together. My posts wouldn't be the same without you, so I'm very grateful to you. 🙏🏽

And sincerely thank you to everyone who took the time to read these posts and to everyone who commented, messaged, PM'd, reblogged, and followed. Your thoughtful insights, reactions, and support really have always made the days brighter both over the last two months and over all these years of reveling in Richonne.

Hearing your takes on Richonne helped me see things from an even fuller perspective. Hearing that these breakdowns were looked forward to and even uplifting to read during hard times really moved me and made me feel less alone since reflecting on Richonne has also helped me focus on the bright things in this world when life feels dark. I've loved hearing what you love about TOWL and about these RiR posts. Thank you for sharing with me. 🫶🏽 Your words of encouragement have meant a lot to this Words of Affirmation girl. 😊

There were times when I was working away at these posts and wondering if I'm certifiably crazy for writing whole 'dissertations' on every second of Richonne's love story. 😅 (i think the answer is yes lol). But the encouragement I'd receive over here was a big motivator to follow through, give every scene its flowers, and share these in-depth breakdowns with you all. So please know that you and your good kind heart are super appreciated. 🙏🏽 I hope you remain blessed in all ways and on all days. 💗

And to Future Me - hi 👋🏽 I wrote these TOWL novel-length breakdowns for the fandom and for you too. For those times when you’ll want to make your day a bit better by revisiting these posts and remembering all the thoughts and elation you had over Richonne - your favorite thing - shining the brightest it’s ever shined in a 6-episode epic love story. 🌟

Rick and Michonne Grimes and their captivating story are extremely dear to my heart and always will be. And this miniseries that gave them and their love the spotlight means so much. The Ones Who Live is a true treasure, and I’m so glad we’ll have it forever. 🥹🙌🏽

After hundreds of 'dissertations' and years of pursuing a Ph.D in Richonne (😋📚🎓), I just have to say that breaking down the beginning, middle, and end of this epic love story with this fun and insightful fandom has been such a joy. Has me feeling like...

There will be people who come around to watching TWD/TOWL now or years later who weren’t keeping up with the show when it first aired. And some of those people are bound to get bit with the Richonne bug just like I did several years ago.

So my hope is that anyone, be it new Richonners or long-time Richonners, whoever wants to reminisce and revel and relive each and every moment of Rick and Michonne’s iconic, powerful, and stunning journey can always come back to these RiR breakdowns whenever, and feel like they’re 'read-watching' the show, and dissecting and celebrating whatever is beautiful about Richonne with a good friend. Because Richonne is timeless and a little reveling is good for the soul.

I hope these plenty of posts brought and continue to bring enjoyment, insight, laughs, light, and just the best warm feelings because in the words of my beloved Michonne - It did for me. 😌

Always and forever, thank you so much for reading & Long Live Richonne. 👑🧲🥰👌🏽

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