#but I would like to finish it sooner rather than later so I can move onto the next Cloud & the kids chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

matryosika · 2 months ago

Text

Three Times Again

Pairing — Hyunjin & Reader Wordcount — 6,171 words Includes — Fem!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, smut (warnings under the cut). Author's Note — Finished college, graduated with a psychology degree and a 98.8/100 general score, I now have a serious, serious job and I haven't written anything in eight or nine months so this is the best I can do at this point. This might be a bit rusty but honestly I'm happy I was able to write something for the first time in so long. Don't think I forgot about you folks, I never will! Hope you didn't forget about me either.

Smut Warnings — Virgin AND inexperienced reader paired with somewhat experienced male character, best friends trope. Use of petnames, praise and worship if you squint, very very delicate smut if i'm being honest. Fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, lots of making out and kisses, protected sex, mentions and use of condom, piv.

It was bound to happen.

Hyunjin knew it. You knew it. All of your friends knew it.

Rather sooner than later, it was just bound to happen.

The four walls on his bedroom and the remnants of the incense smoke are lively witnesses of the tension unraveling —a tension that lasted enough for the two of you, and that is now slowly causing havoc with each of your heartbeats.

It all started with a simple, pointless "truth or dare" kind of game, you and your friend's very own rendition: truth or shot. You asked each other's questions, and you could choose between replying or chugging down a shot of liquid courage. No room for those "lick the floor" or "text your ex" shenanigans.

Of course the catch was that after 3 or 4 rounds, your headspace wasn't as sober as initially. And after a series of shots, one would eventually start spitting out just truths that cannot be spoken after the sun rises.

“Don’t think about it,” Hyunjin begs in between kisses, dragging his swollen lips along your shoulders and neck. His hands are roaming underneath your clothes, getting familiar with your body while feeling your warmth. “Please, don’t think about it”.

You can't. And you try not to.

At least not when the sensations of his wet lips teasing your skin becomes too much to handle in a span of minutes, or when the ghost trailing of his fingertips against your flesh is making you turn desperate for him.

But it is difficult.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, the logical, still functioning part of your brain tries to protest. Despite how aroused you are, and despite how receptive your body is to that of Hyunjin's. “We’re- you’re my best friend Hyunjin”.

“And you’re mine,” he hums against your skin, only lifting his gaze when you bury your fingers a bit too harshly onto his dark hair locks, “is that so wrong?”

His words get underneath your skin in ways that they shouldn't, and you start kissing your rationality goodbye as Hyunjin nibbles softly at the flesh where your shoulders and neck connect.

“You’re- we are going to regret this,” you exhale, ironically locking your arms around his neck. Your words are only saying much, but your body is risking it all to let him know that you want this just as much as he does. “What if- you wake up tomorrow and think this was a mistake?”

The dark-haired lets out a quiet groan, filled with both amusement and despair. “How can this be a mistake?” he asks, moving one of his hands from your hips to your thighs, sneaking it between your shorts and your underwear, “how can it be a mistake when I've waited years to have you like this, all for me?”.

You arch your back against the palm of his hand.

“Hyunjin,” you exhale his name once again, but you're not quite sure what for. It could be a plea, or the beginning of a sentence you can't begin to articulate in a situation like this. It could also be the familiarity of the word falling from your lips in between moans —you would be such a filthy liar if you were to deny having touched yourself while thinking about your friend before.

Either way, Hyunjin never really thought of his name that much until now, that he's hearing you moaning it.

“Yeah?” he asks with a weak hum, getting lost in the way you smell, “talk to me”.

“F-fuck,” you murmur weakly, the stinging feeling of tears pricking on the corners of your eyes. You’re about to cry, but you don't know why. Blame it on the alcohol, the sudden release of that secret you've kept years locked inside of you, or the overwhelming sensation Hyunjin’s skin is, “promise me something-”.

Your friend is all too busy engraving every single inch of your skin into his brain. Every freckle, mole and stretch mark, he needs to memorize your flesh like it's a map. He wants to remember how it looks underneath the dim light of his room, proof that this all happened and it's not just another wet dream of his.

“Anything,” he says, with such a raspy voice it's vibrations travel from the skin spilling out from your bra up until your throbbing center, “ask me anything”.

You gather all your courage within you to lift your upper body from the mattress, resting your weight on your forearms and causing Hyunjin to take a slight step back from you.

“Promise me this isn't going to change a thing in our friendship,” you murmur, your chest moving up and down almost frantically. Hyunjin's dark eyes are all over yours, with a subtle furrow in his brows that just tells you he's still trying to get a hold on everything that's happening. “Promise me, Hyunjin”.

You're honestly asking for a lot. How can he promise such a thing, when he is already missing the warmth of your skin? How can he pretend nothing is going to change, when tomorrow he will wake up with the ghostly feeling of your pussy around his dick?

Hyunjin will say yes. Hyunjin will say that he promises you something he knows he is not going to fulfill. And honestly, he can play pretend. You're not going to be able to tell, and he is not going to say it.

But Hyunjin knows everything is going to change the minute he gets to feel your lips on his again. He knows nothing will ever be the same once he bottoms out inside you, hearing you moaning and gasping while he fucks you however you ask him to.

“I promise,” he swallows the lie thickly, staring at you between furrowed eyebrows. “I fucking promise just- please let me have you, please”.

You're staring at each other with hitched breath, rapid heartbeats and an insane amount of uncertainty neither of you can sort out.

“Please let me taste you,” Hyunjin plants a chaste kiss right above your hip bone.

And then another.

And another.

“Please,” he begs again, humming your name. “Let me make you feel real good”.

You close your eyes in defeat, getting immersed in the way his hot lips feel against your tummy. He is kissing, and licking, and nibbling at your flesh, it's practically impossible not to give in when all that's left is your word consenting to it.

“Please,” Hyunjin insists, the tip of his fingers grazing against the hems of your skirt and underwear. “Say you want this just as much as I do”.

You whine, kicking your head back.

“Say it,” he repeats, whispering your name. “I need to hear it from you. I need to know that you want me like I want you”.

“I want this,” you finally confess. “I want this- fuck, I want you, Hyunjin”.

The words leave your lips with a shakily breath, and you think it might be the release of it all.

His lips crash into yours once again, and you realize how much you missed his taste despite having kissed him just minutes ago. Hyunjin's saliva tastes like plum soju, mint and your strawberry gloss, and your heart skips a beat at the realization that this is real, that this is happening —your taste and essence lingers in Hyunjin's mouth, and there's no turning back now.

The closer your bodies are, the more your fragrances mix. You can't tell his smell apart from yours, and he can't tell either —your hands smell like his lotion, and his shirt smells like your perfume.

Your mind spirals into all the sensations he is providing you with, that is until his hands sneak underneath your blouse and you get to feel his hot flesh against the sides of your body.

Then, your mind goes blank.

Your blood boils, you feel the heat rising to your chest, cheeks and ears. You feel exposed, in a way, but you're sure things aren't going to end there.

Hyunjin has seen nothing of you just yet.

"Can I take this off?" His hands are still attached to your waist underneath your clothes, and as far as you're concerned he could be talking about your shirt or your bra. You want those two off anyways, so you nod and agree to whatever he is thinking.

Things unfold in slow motion to your eyes, but everything is happening pretty fast, actually. In the blink of an eye your blouse is scattered around his bedroom floor, and it doesn't take too long before his t-shirt is joining yours there, too.

Between all the kisses and pettings, you feel the loss of his warmth when he takes a step back. Then, you feel really exposed.

Apart from your heavy breaths and fast heartbeats, the room is completely quiet. So quiet it scares you, so you break the silence with a muffled "what?".

Hyunjin's straight eyebrows furrow just slightly, and he parts his lips to say something yet nothing comes out of them. Nothing but a deep, trembling exhale; it sounds like the equivalent to being able to finally breath after being underwater for so long.

“What, Hyunjin?” You repeat with a stern voice, fearing he might've started to regret the whole thing. He is unreadable —as far as you're concerned, he could be having second thoughts about this stupid idea. You wouldn't blame it for it.

But when he drops to his knees in front of you, and his hands find the waistband of your skirt, you get the sense that he might not be regretting any of this at all.

“So pretty,” he mutters, with rounded eyebrows like crescent moons and big, open eyes as he stares up at you, “you’re so, so pretty”.

The compliment takes your breath away, and the skin on your nape and back short-circuits as if an explosion of electricity it’s taking place underneath your flesh.

"You really think so?" You're not quite sure what prompts you to ask such a question, but you figure you should let yourself get loose. The last thing you want for tonight is to hold back, because that isn't the idea.

You're doing this with Hyunjin for a reason, and said reason is because you trust him.

Without holding back, without overthinking, without hesitating. There will be plenty of time to reflect on whatever happens tonight, but right now isn't the time.

At least not when Hyunjin is kneeling in front of you, holding so much adoration in his eyes you swear you finally feel those butterflies people keep talking about.

“I know so,” he reiterates, “just look at you”.

Your eyes fall to where his hands meet with your skirt, and this time he asks for consent with just his gaze. You nod and swallow thickly, watching as his fingers expertly dance along the hems of your skirt.

You want to shy away, to cover yourself and evaporate into thin air —at the same time, Hyunjin wants to look at you. You want him to be the first one to see you naked, to touch parts of your body nobody has before. You want to see his expression, to wonder what he will do when the realization of having you in his bed finally sinks in.

Because up until now, everything feels like a fever dream to him.

You stand in front of the edge of his bed, and watch as he undresses you. His hands trace the path of the skirt, from your thighs to your calves, and only looks up when it reaches your ankles, signaling for you to step out of it.

The color and fabric of your panties match those of the bra, and for a split second Hyunjin feels played.

Did you plan it? Have you been thinking about this as much as he has?

It could be a coincidence, but it isn't —at some point throughout the night, you and Hyunjin were bound to happen. And you both knew it.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, standing up from the floor right in front of you. His eyes are all over your face, his hands are shy and you get the feeling that he might kiss you, but all he does is press his lips against yours and murmurs, “you make me feel so- fuck, I don’t even know”.

You appreciate Hyunjin's sincerity, because honestly you don't know either. All you know is the adrenaline running through your veins, and the palpitations you feel underneath your left rib cage and between your thighs.

All you know is that you want Hyunjin to fuck you. Whether it's painful, or not. Whether you get to feel some pleasure, or not. All you want is for him to be your first, to be the one you experience sex for the first time like everyone around you already has.

It's actually more complicated than that, than just experiencing, but you don't dwell on it for long.

“Don’t think about it too much,” you suggest, just as fazed as he is. “Don’t think about anything just- do whatever you want”.

Hyunjin is unsure of what he is doing, judged by the hesitation behind his movements. He holds you by the small of your back and presses you tightly against his body, so close the tip of your noses are grazing against each other.

“Stop me if I hurt you,” he whispers with shortness of breath, “alright?”

You nod and swallow thickly, “okay”.

Inevitably, Hyunjin feels a pressure over his shoulders. He knows it is your first time.

You deserve something memorable, something that it's all about you.

Sure, his dick is hard and throbbing, and he swears he is one second away from exploding inside his pants, but he is willing to leave his pleasure aside for yours.

He'd have other opportunities to get his dick wet and other chances to experiment. Right now it should be all about you, about making you feel good.

And under that thought, he kisses you again.

Soft and slowly, dragging the tip of his fingers along the middle of your back. His tongue brushes against yours and you completely forget about the concept of oxygen.

It doesn't matter now that Hyunjin's breath is everything you need to respire.

His fingers keep lingering in the hooks of your bra, and it surprises you how he is able to get it off of you on his own.

"No man ever gets it right the first time," your best friend had told you amidst laughter. But Hyunjin just did in his first try. He is just naturally good at everything he does; excelling at random tasks, always getting things perfectly from the very start.

You hardly think about how naked you're in comparison to him, because he presses his chest to yours and your breasts become squeezed by his golden skin. You feel your nipples hardening against him, and you’re fully aware he can feel them too.

Fuck, he can feel them. And his cock gets even harder by that alone.

“Let me see you,” Hyunjin whispers under his breath, but you wrap your arms around his neck, preventing him from taking a step back from you. You shake your head, feeling abruptly overwhelmed by his embrace, as well as the cold air hitting your skin.

“No one has ever seen me naked,” you say.

He knows.

“I want to see you, if you let me,” he swallows thickly, brushing his nose against yours. “Please, let me see you”.

Hyunjin feels your arms releasing some strength, falling limp over his shoulders, and he takes that as an opportunity to walk back just enough to see you.

All of you.

Everything he shouldn't fantasize about, but he does.

“God,” he exhales with a strangled breath, doing everything he possibly can to remain collected.

But it's irrational, and impossible. How can he remain calm when you're standing naked in front of him? Your skin is covered in goosebumps, your nipples are hard and the dark, wet patch on your cotton underwear just tells him that your body needs something only he can give you. How can he be calm throughout any of this?

He can’t, and he is finally coming to terms with it.

“It’s not fair,” you murmur, slyly crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m practically naked, and you still have your pants on”.

Hyunjin listens, but decides to ignore you. Instead, his hands find your crossed arms and he motions for you to drop them, pressing his lips against yours to kiss you one more time.

He swears he might never get tired of kissing you, ever.

“Lay down,” he presses desperate, short kisses against your lips, and you follow his guidance until your back meets the softness of the comforter.

His hands hold the sides of your body, only to drag the last piece of clothing off from your body. And it happens all too fast, that you don't even have time to shy away. Hyunjin lays down between your spread legs, with his hands and arms hooked underneath your thighs, half-lidded eyes looking right at yours.

“Remember,” Hyunjin warns, and the feeling of his warm breath against your core feels too weird and unfamiliar, you mean to close your legs around him but he doesn't allow you to, “tell me if I hurt you”.

Your heart would have exploded inside your chest at the sight, but it doesn't until Hyunjin's tongue meets your pussy for the first time. Then, you feel your heartbeats ringing loudly in your ears.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, holding up your weight with your forearms.

“You’re dripping wet,” he murmurs, nose brushing against your clit while his tongue collects all your arousal, “you must have been wanting this for so long”.

You writhe under his hold, feeling weakened by his words. Your chest feels heavy, and there's a tension on your lower back that prompts you to grind your hips against his face, practically begging for him to do something.

And he does —the tip of his digits slide against your folds, exploring you. He focuses his tongue on your clit, and by that alone you swear you're seeing stars. You thought the stimulation would pretty much feel like your fingers or toys, but it's nothing close to that. It feels foreign, out of your control, and you like that.

“How do you touch yourself?” Hyunjin asks with a deep voice you swear you can't recognize.

Instead of replying, you guide one of your hands to his, that is already wet and sticky, and take two of his fingers, “put them inside”.

He follows your orders, sinking his index and middle finger with such an ease it surprises both of you. Normally, it would take you a while to get wet on your own —right now, it seems that your body is reacting to Hyunjin much faster than you expected.

“So fucking warm,” the mutter is more to himself than to you, but you still catch it. And for some reason, the sound of his voice makes you clench harder around his fingers, “and so tight”.

“Don’t say that,” you kick your head back, closing your eyes shut.

“I know you like it,” he says, a small smile creeping through the corners of his lips, “I can feel it”.

There it is, again. Your walls flutter around his fingers, squeezing them softly at every word he says.

“You like it when I tell you how wet you are?” Hyunjin’s voice is gradually lower now, and his choice of words has the desired effect on you, “don’t lie, I can feel you getting tighter”.

This may be better than any lie detector the world has come to know. Discovered by none other than Hyunjin, right before any other guy all over you could.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, your fingers instinctively latching to his black hair. You don't mean to pull it, but you find yourself using it as leverage, and Hyunjin finds himself groaning at it, “seems like I've discovered something about you too”.

He smiles and presses his lips and nose further against you, pretending to know every single inch of your core with his tongue. It's the first time he has you like this, and he isn't quite sure if he is doing alright —a couple of soft whimpers and quiet, strangled moans are falling from your lips, but that isn’t enough for Hyunjin.

"What else do you do?" He asks, and the question comes out more as a whimper than a casual, nonchalant voice. He is clearly affected by all of this, and you can tell by his hips rut against his bed as he touches you. “When you touch yourself, what else do you do?”

One of your hands leaves his dark hair, and guide to your breasts. It always goes a little bit like that —your dominant hand maneuvers the toy against your clit, and your other hand focuses on your breasts and nipples, pinching and twisting them as you like.

Fuck, well, that's going to be a sight imprinted in Hyunjin's mind forever. The way your back arches as soon as your fingers tease your nipples, the way your chest elevates with a deep inhale. The way your hips buck against Hyunjin's touch, and how your toes curl just slightly at the stimulation.

He soon focuses again on his task, pumping two of his fingers inside you while his tongue takes care of your clit that has become more swollen than initially.

He is doing anything he can to get to know you, to see how his touch is affecting you. And when his middle finger touches a spot inside your walls that he hadn't before, and you let out a guttural moan of his name, Hyunjin stops short.

“Did I-”

He must think he hurt you. But it's all quite the opposite.

“Right there,” you shake your head frantically, acquiring strength from, practically, nowhere to push your body up in your forearms again, “shit, again, do it again”.

And he complies. His middle finger curls, and the reaction he gets is the same, if not more pronounced, from you.

“You’re fucking dripping,” repeatedly, he manages to find a pace of his own. His fingers move slowly and deliciously inside of you, almost always touching that spot that has you moaning louder than before. That, added with the suck of his mouth around your clit, sends you to cloud 9.

You've never felt this before, on your own, and it scares you.

It feels more intense, and slightly painful. Your lower back hurts, you're sweating and you fear you might pee.

It definitely feels as if you're going to pee.

“Hyunjin!” You gasp, your hands pushing him away, “I feel- ‘m gonna make a mess”.

His heart is beating loud in his ears, and he feels the pressure of your thighs squeezing his face. The quick thought that he might be hurting you flies across Hyunjin's mind, but is quickly discarded when your hips move in sensual circles against him.

You must be close.

“Wait!” You gasp, and Hyunjin withdraws from between your legs, but his fingers continue fucking your pussy with an increased pace, “G-god, fuck, I’m-”.

You’re babbling, not making any sense. And Hyunjin feels his dick leaking precum, sticking to his underwear. Never in all his years of life had he been this hard, and it's hurting him to no end. At the same time, it feels deliciously torturing.

He just fears he might come untouched.

“Close?” Hyunjin asks, and you just nod frantically.

As if an expert, his palm hits your clit every time he bottoms his fingers out inside of you. A part of him tells him he should position himself back between your legs and make you come with his mouth and fingers; the other, however, urges him to crawl up, between kneeling and lying next to you, as his available hand guides your chin to him.

The sight is even better like this, Hyunjin thinks —your teary eyes and the hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks with sweat is something he might never be able to forget.

The way you're staring at him like you're scared, and confused, and oh so aroused. He is the reason behind your body shaking and your hands gripping the bed sheets underneath you; the reason behind your cries and whimpers, and the wetness between your legs.

All because of him.

"I think I'm coming," you manage to spit out in a strangled breath, and soon after lose complete control over your body.

Your back arches against his bed, your legs close around his wrist, and your body threatens to push him away. But Hyunjin doesn't let you —he embraces you, holding you in place as you ride your high.

“There you go,” he murmurs, with a soft smile creeping through the corners of his lips.

Your trembling hand wraps around his bicep, and you can barely open your eyes without tearing up. Whatever just happened, you haven't experienced it before.

“Hyunjin,” you whimper yet again, feeling how your walls clench over and over around his fingers. It tired you, both mentally and physically —your toes feel funny from clenching them much, your legs are sore from being spread open for a while now, and your hips feel tired from all the tension that suddenly snapped minutes ago, “holy fuck, Hyunjin”.

“I’m right here,” he tells you while leaving a quick kiss on your lips.

And then another.

And another.

And another, until it turns into a proper kiss, one that isn’t nearly as sloppy or fast as the ones he offered you before. This time, Hyunjin kisses you slowly, carefully, almost as if he is trying to soothe all that tension with his lips.

You place your hands on either side of his face, and he does the same —with ease, he manages to position himself on top of you, with so much care not to put all his weight on top. Hyunjin only breaks the kiss to look at you, and the way your lips form a subtle "o" when you feel his erection pressed against your lower abdomen is enough for him to run out of breath.

“We don’t have to- I mean, we don’t have to do it tonight,” Hyunjin murmurs, his lips barely touching yours. “We can stop right here, I’m okay with-”

“Let’s do it,” you notice how he swallowed thickly and how his bright eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights stare at you with just the same amount of fear and lust.

To be your first; to mess around together, to experience what sex is all about.

You want this, and he wants this just as much. There's trust, and there is a promise —nothing can go wrong because that's exactly why you're doing it with each other.

Because there's no one else in this world you trust more than Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he exhales, backing away from your body to fully undress himself. And although it's not prohibited to look, you feel insanely awkward when your eyes meet his figure.

Hyunjin doesn't show much skin, not even during the summer days when you visited the beach or his parent's lake house. Seeing him shirtless was already much of a shock, but seeing him fully naked? That is a whole other story.

You feel your cheeks blushing and you need to look away before Hyunjin catches you staring, but it is already too late.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, forcing yourself to keep contact with his eyes rather somewhere else.

Hyunjin licks his lips, and he does so in such a swift movement that it barely registers in your mind. But it does, and you can't stop thinking how attractive he is, and how awfully aroused he is making you feel. It's like your body has a mind of its own, one that's completely enticed by him.

“C’me here,” he kneels in the bed again, hovering your body. His erection pressed against your lower abdomen once again, and you let out an unexpected, almost embarrassing moan just by that alone.

He is hard, and his dick feels warm. You can't help but sneak a hand between your bodies and wrap it around him, making him curse under his breath.

It's the first time you see (in real life, anyway) and touch a dick; you're not sure what you were expecting, but the feeling of it isn't bad. However, it isn’t as nice as the sight of Hyunjin's eyes closed shut, and his bottom lip caught between his lips.

“If you touch me again, I'm going to come,” he warns you.

“And isn’t that what you want?” You ask, stroking him softly. You’re barely discovering how to touch him, but there’s something pleasant about the way you’re exploring him.

“Not before fucking you,” Hyunjin tells you, “I have to make you feel good again”.

He straightens his body slightly and puts a condom on. It is tight around the base, and too slippery for his own liking, but he can't complain about it when you're patiently waiting for him.

Your eyes never abandon his figure, and just the sight of him unwrapping a fucking condom and putting it on is more than enough to make you clench around thin air. And you're too lost in that thought, of how strikingly beautiful Hyunjin looks tonight, that you don't feel any sort of panic until the tip of his dick slides against your slit.

This is really happening, you think to yourself, and suddenly all the oxygen from the room has vanished, leaving you with a heavy chest and an awful sensation that you're choking.

“You okay?” He asks when he catches a glimpse of your furrowed eyebrows.

“Just nervous,” your eyes dart between his face and the parts of your bodies where you almost meet. You've heard awful stories about first times, involving a lot of pain and discomfort; why would yours be any different than those?

You feel your heart beating in anticipation, and your throat gets dry.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to kiss you, “I’ll be careful”.

You nod, because you know he is telling the truth. So you brace yourself by holding his biceps, watching as he guides his dick inside of you.

“Inhale,” he tells you, and you follow. Your lungs get filled with fresh air until they hurt, until you no longer can harbor any more oxygen.

And only then, the tip of it slides right in easily, with just the tiniest bit of discomfort —your fingers and toys are not close to the size he is.

“Fuck”.

“Let it all out,” and you exhale deeply, relaxing underneath him as he finally bottoms out. He stays there, without moving, feeling how your walls adapt to his girth. Hyunjin kisses your cheek, and snuggles his face in the crook of your neck to leave a couple of them there, too, “good job”.

You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck just as your legs wrap around his hips.

His weight on top of you feels nice, just as it does having him inside of you. But you're desperate to know how he really feels, so you prompt him to move.

“I’ll go slow,” and he sticks to his word. His thrusts are slow, but deep —every time he bottoms out, you moan.

You're just getting used to him, so the way he is fucking you is more than enough for now. And it is enough for him, too —if he goes any faster, he is sure he will come.

But he maintains a certain pace, and your bodies get to meet each other in a way they hadn't before.

“Does it feel good?” You ask him in a murmur, and he hums in response.

“So good,” his eyes never leave yours. “You feel so good, your pussy feels so good”.

You bite your lips, wanting to hold back whatever reaction his words elicit from you.

There's something lewd about his voice, and the way he says things tonight. There's something lewd in the way you like it, too.

“You feel good too,” you compliment him, caressing the sides of his face. “Want to come again, with you”.

Hyunjin nods, as if you’re giving him an order for him to follow. But you might as well have, because he takes it upon himself to give you what you want. One of his hands sneak between your sweaty bodies, and albeit difficult, he manages to position the tip of his fingers over your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as his thrusts.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, closing your eyes shut when you feel a pinch of pain from the overstimulation.

It's crazy how many things Hyunjin has learned about you in the past hour.

“Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” He manages to ask, and you nod frantically.

His hand then withdraws from your clit, and when you're about to protest, you notice his mouth is leaning closer to your chest, “what-”.

He then latches his tongue around one of your hardened nipples, and you become a mess of whimpers underneath him.

“And this?” Hyunjin asks with his lips attached to the flesh of your breast, “does it feel good when I do this?”

You might as well have figured something about you.

“It feels so good, Hyunjin,” you chant, with teary eyes that threaten to start bawling in ecstasy, “so good, fuck, so good”.

He continues, sucking on your nipple while his fingers tease the other. And you really seem to like it because you can't stop moaning, because all your hands do is to force him even more against your chest.

“Squeezing me so good,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, losing control of himself as he feels you clenching around him. He's drooling over your breasts, swollen and pink lips dragging across your flesh while his hips start spasming, “God, you’re so fucking tight”.

You sneak a hand between your bodies, and when your digits brush against your clit, you feel your body jolting, and the tension threatening to unravel.

You're so close, again.

And you hope he is close too.

“I’m-” You don't manage to finish the sentence when Hyunjin's fingers replace yours, “Hyunjin!”

You mean to keep your eyes open, to look at him in between, but you finally give up to the overwhelming pleasure. You close them shut, and all you're left with is the feeling of Hyunjin's body against yours, and the sounds you and him are eliciting from each other.

“Close?” And you nod frantically, tightening your limbs around him —your arms around his neck, your legs around his lower back.

You’ve hugged Hyunjin before, but nothing will ever compare to this; to your naked bodies pressing together, to his lips murmuring sweet nothings against yours.

To share something as intimate as an orgasm can be.

“Coming,” you whisper weakly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. And at the same time, Hyunjin lets out a painful, choked groan.

His throat hurt at it, but not nearly as much as the tension finally unraveling did.

Not as much as the sight of your hazy eyes looking up at him as you both come down from your highs.

Not as much as the realization that it was all over.

“Hyunjin,” you whimper again, and your loud heartbeats, and the way you're still clenching around him is preventing him from listening to your voice. He sees your lips moving, but he is too far gone in the bliss of his orgasm to care.

“God,” you close your eyes shut and hide your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

You don’t want him to let go of you, to pull out. You want to stay like this for as long as you’re able to.

And Hyunjin wants it too, plopping all of his weight carefully on top of you. He presses a kiss to your temple, and then your forehead. Nothing in his life has ever felt this good before, and he fears he might not be able to live a moment like this again.

"Did I hurt you?" He just has to ask again, now that you're settled between his arms.

You shake your head subtly, and look up at him with so much gloss and sentiment he feels a pinch of hope you feel the same way he feels about you.

"Not once," you exhale, offering the most beautiful smile Hyunjin has seen on you.

And when you press a quick peck to his lips and snuggle right next to him, with your head on his chest and your hand over his abdomen,

he just knows it will happen again.

And again.

Bonus note: If you liked this, PLEASE let me know. I'm kind of nervous putting this out there because I've been away for so long, I'm not even sure if this is any good. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. It is nice to connect with past hobbies to be honest.

Love you all! And take care!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #kpop smut #smut

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and-claudia · 1 month ago

Text

Yours pt. 2 (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

Okay for now I'm just calling this miniseries Yours until I find a title I actually like.

Warnings: Paddy (he is a warning himself), manipulation, age gap, mentions of death, controlling relatives, lies, lots of lies, mentions of p in v sex, morning after pill, you think Paddy is being sweet but its mostly all manipulating

This story will get dark. this is your warning, this part isn't really that dark

Word Count: 3200+

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

I woke up at some point, feeling something on the inside of my leg. When my eyes slowly opened, the room was mostly dark with just a soft glow coming from the bathroom door that was half open.

“Sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to wake you. Just wanted to get you at least semi-cleaned up.” He said from where he was sitting beside me, gently wiping away the evidence of our time together earlier in the night.

He had put on a pair of sweats, but I was still lying on top of the sheets, completely naked. A small shiver ran down my back, causing me to wrap my arms around myself.

“Here, put this on.” He said, handing me what I could only assume was one of his shirts.

“Thanks.” I said, sitting up as he finished wiping off part of my leg.

I put the shirt on, relishing in how it smelt like him, before looking over at him, “What time is it?”

“Early. You can go back to sleep.” He said.

I nodded, “Imma go to the bathroom first.” I said, turning to get up off the bed.

“Ciria’s makeup wipes are in there if you need some.” He said as I walked off, and I gave him a nod.

I went and did my business. Honestly I was surprised and quite frankly curious as to how he had managed to clean me up so well without me waking up sooner, considering how much of a mess there was between my legs when I fell asleep. However, I was too tired to question it too much. Once I was done, I washed my hands and found the makeup wipes he had mentioned. I quickly wiped off whatever wake was left on my face from both sweating at the club and jumping into the pool.

When I came back out, Paddy had moved from his spot on the bed to the chair in the corner.

“There’s something on the side table for you.” He said, nodding to the one closer to me.

On it sat a water bottle and a box of Plan B.

“I know you said you were on birth control, but better to be safe than sorry.” He said.

I nodded and grabbed the box, “No, I agree, thanks.” I said before taking it.

The sheets had been pulled back, clearly indicating that he was okay with me sleeping under them rather than on top like I had been earlier. However, he wasn’t making any moves to join me.

“Are you coming back to bed?” I asked.

“I wasn’t sure if that would be okay with you… I didn’t want to cross any boundaries.” He said with what I would’ve sworn was a nervous laugh, but Paddy didn’t seem like the type of man to ever get nervous, especially in the bedroom.

“Paddy, I am pretty fucking sure you bruised my cervix last night… I don’t think we have boundaries…” I said.

He laughed a little at my comment but still stood from his chair and came to join me on the other side of the bed. Once he was settled in, I scooted over to him and looked up at him from where my head was resting on his chest.

“I meant what I said… if you truly want me, I’m yours, Paddy.” I said.

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he just leaned down and kissed me gently. I responded immediately, returning the kiss before a yawn forced me to pull away. Paddy laughed to himself and smiled at me.

“Get some rest, baby.” He said gently.

We finally woke up a few hours later. Our families had plans for brunch at a cafe a few blocks away and we both needed to get up and get ready for that. Paddy got up and got dressed fairly quickly after deciding to lie to Ben and Louise, saying that I had gotten sick on my dress and needed a change of clothes to get dressed over here.

3rd person PoV

Paddy walked through the halls of the hotel until he got to the room where Yn’s aunt and uncle were staying. He knocked twice, then waited. Louise opened the door and was shocked to find Paddy there.

“Hi, Paddy… where’s Yn?” She asked, clearly worried for his niece.

“Oh, you fret far too much over her, Louise. Don’t worry, she and Ciria are back in our room. I think she was getting in the shower when I stopped by.” Paddy said.

“Stopped by?” Louise asked, confused as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Yes, when we got back, it was quite late. We didn’t want to bother you, so I let her and Cira take our room. It was a king-sized bed and the two of them seemed to really be hitting it off and didn’t seem to mind having to share. I slept on the floor in the room we got Ant.”

“He has his own room?” She asked.

“Yes, it’s across the hall. Kinda hard to enjoy certain aspects of your vacation with your kid 5 feet away from you, if you know what I mean.” He said with a laugh as Louise smiled politely, but it was clear she was uncomfortable, “Anyways… I came by to check that our brunch plans were still a go?”

Lousie looked back into the room to Ben, who just shrugged.

“Yeah, we’re just about to get ready.” She said after turning back to Paddy.

“Perfect! I also came by to get Yn’s clothes… she got a little sick on her dress. And so she asked me to come by and get her clothes for her. She wrote down what she needed on here.” He said, handing the note to her.

Lousie looked at it and was a little confused. It listed the sundress she wanted, her makeup bag, what she needed to do her makeup, the jewelry she wanted and where it was in her bag, and what shoes she wanted… but that was it. It lacked any undergarments of any kind.

“O-okay. One second…” She said, pushing the door shut.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, seeing the note in her hand.

“The clothes Yn needs… she threw up on her dress or something, so she’s going to get ready with Ciria in their room, I guess.” She said, walking past him to get to Yn’s suitcase.

She collected everything that was requested but hesitated, seeing her undergarment bag… maybe she had just forgotten to write it down. The dress she was asked for wasn’t form-fitting; it was nice and flowy, so she shouldn’t have to worry about lines if she wore underwear. After some debate, she grabbed the first pair from the bag, not wanting to invade her privacy, and folded it up into the dress. She put everything into a small bag and went back to the door to Paddy.

“Here, that’s everything she asked for… I put a few things she didn’t ask for as well, like her uh- her daily medications, purse, toothbrush, that type of stuff…I just figured she forgot to write that down.” Louse said, handing it to him.

“Thank you. I will let her know. And I will see you lot later!” He said before walking off.

He got back to his room just as Yn was getting out of the shower. He knocked on the bathroom door and handed her the bag, which she thanked him for with a small kiss.

He then went and grabbed some clothes for Ciria before walking across the hall to give them to her.

“Can’t I come back over and get ready with you?” Ciria asked as he handed her the clothes.

“No, Yn is still there. Get ready here, and get the kid ready, too. We have brunch with the Daltons.” He said.

“Why is she still there?” She pressed, a pang of jealousy laced in her voice.

Paddy didn’t reply. He just sent her a look that warned her to quit asking questions.

“Sorry, I’ll go get ready.” She said, and he nodded once in approval.

“Remember, all three of us went out last night, and you and Yn slept in the other room. You go along with anything I or Yn say. She believes we do this all the time, I told her that you wanted me to have the night with her. You go along with that. Got it?” He asked, making sure she went along with the string of lies he told Ben and Louise.

“Yes, sir.” She said before closing the door to get ready.

Yn’s PoV

Soon, everyone was ready, and we were waiting for my aunt, uncle, and cousin. To tell the truth, I was sad when Ciria and Ant joined us. It was nice pretending it was just Paddy and I, but I had to remind myself that he had a wife and kid, I was just his fun vacation side piece for now. Then, when I saw my family, it felt like even that was ripped away.

“Everyone ready?” Ciria asked, holding onto Paddy’s arm, to say I wasn’t a little jealous would be a lie.

“Yeah, I think so.” Louise said, and we all began walking to the restaurant.

“So, did you have fun last night, Yn?” Ben asked while we sat down waiting for our food.

“Yeah.” I said with a shrug.

“Still a bit tired, I bet. We had a pretty crazy night.” Paddy said, “Right girls?”

“Yes. Oh Yn was so much fun to dance with! I wish you all didn’t live so far. I would kill for girls' nights with her… and of course you, Louise.” Ciria said, much to my surprise.

“I would love that.” I said with a smile over at her.

Paddy was sat between us. Since it was a round table, there was no real way to separate the two families, not that I was complaining. His knee kept grazing mine under the table, and I was trying not to let myself wonder if it was on purpose or accident. It wasn’t until he leaned forward to tell my uncle something and his hand landed on my leg that I knew it was on purpose. I watched him as he spoke, unable to keep the smile from my face. Until a name brought my attention to my uncle.

“Me and my brother Brandon used to work together years and years ago.” Ben said.

“18 years ago.” I corrected him.

He sighed, “Yeah, 18 years ago…”

“Oh, what happened? Did you have a falling out?” Paddy asked, seemingly unaware of the tension building between my uncle and me.

“He died.” I said bluntly, “He and his wife, my mother. I was only three. They were in the car, heading to Ben’s place to meet his new girlfriend. I was staying with my grandparents. A drunk driver hit them head-on.” I said, staring at the mimosa I had ordered.

I picked it up and downed it in one go before excusing myself from the table. Ben never talked about him around me. I wasn’t sad. I was pissed. Everytime he talked about my dad it was a slap in the face that he had actually got to remember him and have memories of him, and I didn’t. And it was his fault.

I had left the restaurant and went and sat on a bench a little ways down the road. Even though Paddy was there and I wanted to spend as much time with him before our paths parted but I had zero intentions on going back to that brunch.

“Can I sit?” I heard his voice say cautiously as if speaking to an injured wild animal.

“Sure… sorry for storming off.” I said, not looking at him.

“It’s okay… Ben explained.” He said and scoffed.

“What’d he say? That I still wasn’t over the untimely death of my parents? That I was sent to live with my oh so loving godfather?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. He said he and Louise raised you, tried to get you to go to therapy to work through you feelings about what happened.” He said.

I shook my head, “I don’t need therapy, not now at least. Louise only wanted me to go because Agnes goes and she’s into all that new age parenting. But I know exactly how I feel about it, now, and I got there without a fucking therapist.”

I took a deep breath before explaining what really happened, “I was at my grandparents. Ben had invited my dad and mom to his apartment to meet the girl he had been dating, Louise. On the drive over, they got into a car accident. No one survived… it was their fault. If they weren’t going to his apartment then my parents would still be here.”

Deep down I knew I sounded crazy. But it was the only way I could rationalize their death.

“I’m sorry, darling. Come here.” He said opening his arms for me.

I hugged and he held me close.

“Then when Agnes was born, I was pretty much cast aside. Everything was about her because she’s their really daughter. And I was left to the sideline to watch her get the childhood they took away from me…I’m sorry, I know that makes me sound crazy probably…” I said when I pulled away.

“Not at all.” He said much to my surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen how they treat you now. I think they realized their fuck up and are trying to reverse it now but its too little too late to try and parent you. What’s been done is done and they can’t undo what they did to you. I’m so sorry you were treated like that.” He said.

“Thank you, Paddy. I’ve never really told anyone all of this and I was sure if I did they would think I was insane… by the way I’m not going back to that brunch. Fuck him. Feel free to go back. I’ll be fine.” I said, secretly hoping he would stay.

“Well I told them I would go find you… and I think it’s taking a lot longer to find you than I expected. Come on lets get get something to eat.” He said with a smirk.

Although I really liked that idea, part of me felt guilty about keeping him from his family.

“I can’t keep you from your family, Paddy.” I said.

“You can if I’m the one offering. Besides we only have a couple more days together. I intended to use every excuse I can to spend time with you.” He said, leaning over to kiss me.

A pang of sadness hit me suddenly at that. I knew it was the truth, but I didn’t want to think about that. I knew the likely hood of me seeing him after this vacation were slim.

“However…” He drew out the word, catching my attention, “After Ben told explained everything about what happened to you and how you all ended up moving and everything. I suggested you all come out to our farm for a bit. Give you a break from the city, get a change of scenery. I told it may do you some good, being out there with the fresh air.”

“Seriously, when?” I asked, admittedly a bit too excited.

“Whenever!” He said smiling at my enthusiasm, “I just need your help convince them to come out and see… for you to come see me.”

“I will.” I promised.

“Good, now, how about that lunch, hm?” He asked raising an eyebrow and offering me his hand. I nodded with a smile and took his hand before we stood together and he walked us further away from where everyone else was having brunch as we went off to do our own thing.

In the following days I spent as much time as I could with Paddy. Any excuse I could think of to get close to him I went with. At one point I even agreed to play chicken fight in the pool with Agnes on my shoulders while Paddy had Ant on his. But when the day came for us to leave I was overcome by sadness. Paddy made me feel seen and made me feel more alive that I’ve ever felt before. And now I was leaving that behind back to being the bane of my uncles existence.

As we came down from our room with our bags, Paddy, Ciria and Ant were all there to see us off. I smiled when I saw him and his smile grew even more when they landed on me. I had secrently kept the shirt he had let me sleep in after the night at the club and I was wearing it right now.

I waited as everyone else said bye to one another. I gave Ciria a hug telling her I hoped that we could visit soon and her and I could hang out more. I even gave Ant a small side hug telling him Agnes and I had fun playing with him and his dad in the pool. Then I got my turn with Paddy.

“Oh come here.” He said, wrapping into a tight hug just had he had done with Louise.

I hugged him back and took a long inhale of his scent knowing I wouldn’t be able to see him for awhile.

“You look great wearing my clothes… god I’m going to miss you, and your perfect cunt.” He said quietly so no one else would hear.

I sighed, “I’m going to miss you too… don’t forget, I’m yours.” I whispered back, before pulling away.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead, which didn’t seem too suspicious considering he gave Lousie a small peck on the cheek as well.

“Here, let me help.” Paddy said grabbing my bag along with Agnes’s before following Ben and Louise out to the car.

We got loaded up and drove away as I sat in silence in the back seat. My only hope was that I could convince my aunt and uncle to actually go out to the farm so I could see him again.

Taglist

@dreamygirli3 @comicbookslut @dianaxx99 @one-of-thewalkingdead @moist-for-xavier @myartistrash02 @fairy-cores-world d @mayamidge

#paddy x reader smut #paddy x reader #paddy #paddy speak no evil #speak no evil movie #speak no evil #speak no evil paddy #james mcavoy x reader #james mcavoy smut #james mcavoy #james mcavoy x reader smut #speak no evil 2024

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lqveharrington · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepy | A.P.

Summary: Gorgons, having a head full of snakes, turn out to be extremely tired and clingy during cold seasons.

A/N: we need more fics of my fav gorgon, and if we don’t have any, i take matters into my own hands :)

Warnings: (not proof read) Use of Y/N L/N, use of she/her, cursing, ajax being soft and adorable, mainly fluffy fluff, reader is a witch, xavier and wednesday are dating, lmk if i missed any !!

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k+

————

Every winter, snakes brumate over the winter. They stop eating as the temperature drops, their metabolism slows down, and they look for an underground place to hide from surface temperature changes. Which seems perfectly normal for a snake to do once the season changes.

But when your boyfriend and a fourth of Nevermore’s population happen to have a head full of snakes for hair, it becomes more complicated.

During winter, Nevermore’s community of gorgons get drained easily or just exhausted in general from their genetics, so they had an exception for sleeping in class and their lack of being active.

But what you noticed with Ajax was that he was more clingy to you than usual. He would find any possible way to be close to you. You were eating with your friends? He would take the seat next to you and wrap his arm around you, head buried in your neck. When you took notes, he’d have his hand in yours, head resting on your shoulder. In Jericho despite the weather being absolutely freezing? He would stay by your side and order a hot chocolate from the Weathervane for you both to share.

You let him do what he wanted amid winter, never minding the extra close proximity. You quite liked his clinginess.

“Jax?” You murmur, his head resting on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“M’just tired, don’t worry.” He gave a soft response, not wanting to bother your conversation with Enid.

“Are you sure? We can go back to your dorm if you’d like.” Your brow creased as you rub circles into his hand that held yours. “I can just tell Enid, she’ll understand.”

He let out a small sigh, “I… You’re having fun with them, I don’t want to—“

“Babe, you’re gonna pass out sooner or later, and I would rather have you pass out in your bed than in a lounging area.” You interrupt the gorgon, catching his eyes full of love and exhaustion. “And you are not leaving on your own.”

For a few seconds, Ajax just stared at you, wondering how fucking lucky it was that you wanted to date him of all people. And in those few seconds, you had just finished explaining to Enid why you had to go, giving her a small smile.

“Let’s go,” You nudged his arm, snapping him out of his thoughts. “The comfort of your bed awaits!”

The trek to his dorm wasn’t as bad compared to when he had to sneak into your dorm. Polonius Hall was rarely checked upon by the hall master who was instructed to ensure the strict rules were being taken seriously. You did have trouble pulling him up the stairs from the common room to his room, the more tired he was, the more it seemed he was intoxicated. Which he wasn’t.

Finally getting to his room, you took the keys from his pocket, and— You forgot which was the right key.

You poke his cheek, earning a hum. “Which is the key?”

“The one with the snakes.” He mumbled, pointing in no particular direction.

Silently thanking him for decorating all his keys with different designs, you unlock his door, quickly taking him to his bed.

“Wait, aren’t you a witch? You couldn’t use your witchy powers to open my door?” Ajax sat slouched on the bed, pretending to use his hands to make the door move.

“I didn’t want to— That’s not the point right now, go get changed.” You try using an authoritative voice, but only hear a whine and a tired chuckle come from your beloved’s mouth. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just cute.” He stood sluggishly and kissed your nose before heading to his closet. “η όμορφη κοπέλα μου είναι τόσο αξιολάτρευτη.” He said in a sing-song voice, his words confusing you.

“Babe, you know I don’t understand Greek.” You pout jokingly, leaning against his dresser. “What’d you say?”

He tapped his cheek first. You rolled your eyes at him, giving him a small peck. “Happy?”

“Of course.” Ajax grinned lazily and started to hum, completely ignoring your previous question.

“Jax.”

“Mhm?”

“You were— What the fuck?” You take your phone out of your back pocket, Enid’s name dragging across the screen. “Hello?”

“Hi! I know you’re like, very busy right now and you just left, but this is kinda an emergency and we need you. Like, now.” She spoke fast and it sounded like she was pacing.

“Uhm, alright, I’ll be there in a few.” You quickly ended the call and met the eyes of a curious gorgon. “Enid has an emergency—“

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine.” He reassured you, wrapping his arms around your torso. “Need to take a shower anyway.”

“You’re lucky I removed that mirror from your bathroom, A.” You cup his jaw, bringing him down so you could pepper his face with kisses. “It’ll be quick, then I’ll come back here.”

Separating from Ajax, you flash a small smile toward the tired male and then turn to leave, not before he wrapped his hand around your wrist, making you look back at him.

“I love you.”

Your smile gets slightly wider, “I love you too, Jax.”

Quickly parting from him, you speed walk to where Enid was, trying to figure out along the way what could have been the emergency.

— — —

“Oh my gosh, thank god you’re here!” Enid rushed over and grabbed your arm, pulling you toward the situation. “Look.”

“It’s a hat.”

“No, not that!” She turned your head toward Wednesday. “That.”

You blink once. Twice. “Wednesday, are you okay?”

“I’m absolutely splendid.” Her mouth twitched a bit.

“But you’re…”

“Smiling!” Enid shoved a mirror in front of her face, peeking behind. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

You glance at the girl’s phone, watching as Xavier’s contact pops up. “Did you go on a date with Thorpe, Wednesday?”

“No.” She spun around and shoved her phone inside a drawer, silently cursing her own stupidity. “Why would I ever willingly hang out with that—“

“She’s blushing! You’re blushing!” Enid jumped up and down, squealing at the usually pale Addams. “Wednesday has a boyfriend!”

“I do not!” She cleared her throat, pulling the monotone face again. “I don’t have a particular interest in this conversation you brought me in.”

“You like Xavier, there’s no denying it.” Enid happily says, clapping her hands together. “My blog must know!”

“Don’t, E.” You wring your hands. “You don’t want another Ajax and Y/N situation.”

She froze, “Right, sorry about that. Uh, I promise not to speak about it until you let me.”

“Good. Or I’d have you six feet under.” Wednesday almost grinned. “Now why aren’t you with your boyfriend?”

“Because Enid said this was an emergency.”

The werewolf threw a small glare toward you, “I mean, it kinda was? She was smiling so hard! It should be concerning!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m happy for you Wednesday. I hope he treats you right.” You give her a minute smile. “If not, Enid will full-on wolf out on the school’s resident tortured artist.”

“Yep.” Enid flashed a toothy smile. “I can terrify the shit out of him.”

“With your colorful nails? Of course.” The pigtailed girl sarcastically remarked.

You let out a small laugh, trying to avoid the pillow being thrown at you. “Enid!”

“What?” She threw another one at you, soon laughing along. “You’re laughing at my nails!”

“I’m not!” You defend yourself, deflecting the pillow with a flick of your wrist, red encasing the soft cushion.

“You so were! And that’s cheating!”

“How?” You throw the pillow back.

“You’re using your powers!”

Wednesday shook her head at the two of you, “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You turn to her, but not before Enid threw one last pillow at your face, causing you to glare at the blonde.

“So you came here because smiling was an emergency?” She had an eyebrow raised, arms crossed. “I’m sure Ajax has been missing you since you left him alone approximately eighteen minutes and fifty-six seconds ago.”

“It hasn’t been over five minutes.” Your eyes flicker up to the clock on Enid’s side table, seeing it had indeed almost been twenty whole minutes.

“Your journey to Enid and I’s dorm from the boy’s dormitory takes way longer than you think it does, even with your speed walking.”

“How did you—? You know what? I probably won’t get a straight answer.” You check the clock again, biting the inside of your cheek. Taking your phone out, you check your messages, seeing that Ajax has indeed texted you. “Shit, uh, I have to go.” You awkwardly point to the door with your thumb, looking between the both of the girls.

“Okey-Dokey, it’s no biggie.” Enid grinned at you, her roommate rolling her eyes at the words she chose. “We all know how Ajax is during this season. Very clingy.”

You flash her a grateful smile, giving her a quick hug and Wednesday a nod. Leaving Ophelia hall, you take a sharp right, bumping into your hall master, Miss Thornhill.

“Oh! Miss L/N, I didn’t think you’d be out of your dorm at this hour. You know it’s past the times you’re allowed to go out.” She gave an off smile, one that gave you the creeps.

“I…” Your answer died on your tongue, racking your brain for anything that would avoid getting both you and Ajax in trouble. “Ajax… He has my… My textbook for your class! Yeah, he wanted to use mine because he totally forgot where he put his and—”

She put her hand up, indicating for you to stop. “I know you and Mister Petropolus are a thing, Y/N. I also know that gorgons have difficulty processing stuff during cold seasons. So if you really need to go over to him, I’ll give you permission. As long as you both are not caught, all right?”

“Yes, of course.” You silently thank her for having some sort of favorite.

“And no funny business either.”

Too late for that. You nod, knowing she’ll figure out the lie within your words.

“Good, now off you go.” Thornhill dismissed you, missing the way you let out a breath and cursed at not paying attention.

And this time, you recorded the time it took from Ophelia Hall to Ajax’s dorm, which turned out to be eleven minutes. Though Nevermore was big, you didn’t know it was that big of a school. Entering Polonius Hall’s common room, you heavily sighed, hands running through your hair. You didn’t think you’d be tired from everything that happened within the last hour.

Quietly, you pushed open your boyfriend’s door, finding him sleeping on his bed, showered, and changed into his plaid pajama pants and a band tee, a different beanie snug on his head. Though some of his snakes were already out, snoring as well. You tugged your converse off and changed into one of his shirts, trying not to make loads of noise. Wincing when you knocked the cup of pens and pencils over while putting some of his stuff away.

Taking in the way he was positioned on the bed, you opted to sleep on top of the covers, staying as far away from him. It was only to not disturb his slumber, but you knew when you felt the bed shift you had woken him up.

“Baby, what’re you doing?” His voice was raspy from sleep.

“Trying not to wake you up.” You reply.

Ajax lifted the blanket up, letting you slide underneath it and into his embrace. “I think you failed.”

“Go back to bed, ��m sorry.” You feel the warmth emitting from his body, legs immediately intertwining with his.

“η όμορφη κοπέλα μου είναι τόσο αξιολάτρευτη.” He said again, kissing your forehead. You hum, fatigue taking over your body. “My beautiful girlfriend is so adorable.”

“Is that what that means?’

“Mhm.” He put his head on top of yours. “Also, don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep without my beautiful girlfriend with me.”

“Go to sleep, my love.” You peck his collarbone. “You can flirt with me in the morning.”

————

#wednesday #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax x you #ajax wednesday #ajax #ajax petropolus #ajax x reader #ajax petropolus fluff #ajax petropolus angst #ajax petropolus x you #ajax petropolus x reader fluff #georgie farmer #georgie farmer x reader #august’s works 🫧

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saetoshi · 2 years ago

Text

itoshi sae does not exaggerate. he finds the whole idea of making a big deal out of nothing to be repulsive.

still, he swears that he feels physically ill whenever you’re not around.

(it’s the first reason of many he’ll ever give you when you tell him you have to leave for more than a day.)

“my head hurts.”

you don’t even look at him.

he frowns, “my head hurts a lot.”

“that’s too bad,�� you say absentmindedly, “you should take some medicine for that.”

“i already did.” (he did not.) “it didn’t do anything.” (because he doesn’t need it.)

his frowns deepens when he notices you’re still focused on packing your things in a duffel bag. (his duffel bag. the one he was sure he’d hidden from you. the one you weren’t supposed to find.)

he calls out your name. his expression softens when you look at him.

“my stomach hurts.”

his lips quirk up just a tiny bit when you give him an annoyed look.

“sae.”

“my stomach really hurts.” he whines, slumping against the bed. a smile spreads through his lips when you cross your arms.

“you should take some medicine for that,” you frown, “even if you are sick, i have to go to this field trip.”

he takes out one of your shirts from the duffel bag, “says who?”

“my teacher.” you pry it off his hands, “my grade.”

you stick your tongue out at him, stuffing your shirt back into the bag, “my conscience.”

“but you’ll be gone for too long,” he sighs dramatically.

“it’s literally just two days.” you deadpan.

“like i said,” he pouts, “too long.”

you sigh, moving to sit down on the bed, “i’ll bring you a souvenir.”

a smile tugs at your lips when he perks up. you reach out to run your hand through his hair.

sae leans into your touch, “i’d rather have you stay than have a stupid souvenir.”

you hum, “wanna know a secret?”

he nods, curiosity swimming in his eyes. a small smile blooms on his lips.

“i kinda really don’t wanna go.” you mumble.

“just stay, then.” he tugs you closer to him.

you sigh, slumping against him. “i can’t. it’s worth a chunk of my grade.”

sae frowns, flicking your forehead, “just say you had a family emergency.”

“i said that last time.” you click your tongue. “i don’t think my teacher would believe that again.”

an amused laugh leaves his lips. “say you’re sick, then.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” you tease, “besides i may or may not have already told my teacher i’d go.”

sae sits up, a look of disbelief on his face, “you what?”

“i already said i’d go,” you sheepishly smile at him.

sae flops back onto the bed, brows furrowed and pouting, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“you would’ve insisted you were sick to stop me from going,” you lean over him. “like you were doing a while ago.”

he looks away from you, flushing. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you smile, poking his nose, “i’m sure you don’t.”

he bites back a smile when you press a quick peck on his cheek.

“but if you were feeling sick, i know you’d go take some medicine instead of exaggerating just to get me to stay.”

he pouts. your smile widens. he tugs you down towards him, “you suck.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” you laugh.

you lay on his chest for a while, sae’s arms snug around you. he rests his cheek on top of your head.

“do you really have to go?”

“‘m afraid so,” you sigh, nuzzling into him. “i promise i’ll text you whenever i can.”

“you better,” he smiles, “you also have to call me.”

“i promise i will.” you laugh.

you squeak when he squeezes you, laughter leaving his lips.

“sae.” you mumble.

“yeah?”

you lift yourself off his chest, looking at him. “i have to finish packing.”

he groans, “finish later. you should nap with me instead.”

you playfully stick your tongue out at him. “you and i both know if i take a nap with you i’m never going to finish packing.”

he shrugs, sighing, “it was worth a shot.”

you sit up, brows raising in surprise when sae sits up after you.

“just because i’m not gonna nap doesn’t mean you can’t,” you tilt your head to the side.

sae stretches his arms up, yawning, “if i help you pack, you’ll take a nap with me sooner.”

he gingerly cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss. he hums against your lips.

“besides,” he pulls away, smiling, “if i help you pack, you’ll have to bring me back a souvenir as a reward.”

you laugh, “if you say so.”

sae’s not much help with packing. he just unceremoniously stuffs your remaining clothes into the duffel bag, scoffing when you tell him he’s doing it wrong.

(still, you bring him back a souvenir when you come home from your trip. as a way to both thank him for helping you pack, and as an apology because you’ll have to go on another trip soon.)

#SILLY SAE !!!!!!!#he means everything to me (shamefully)#i thought i was gonna take a sae break after that long fic #apparently i was very wrong .#bllk x reader #sae x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #bllk scenarios #blue lock fluff #blue lock sae #bllk sae #sae x y/n #sae x you #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you

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duskwoodraven · 6 months ago

Text

I feel moved to speak, sooner rather than later because I believe time is of the essence and this needs to be understood in order to keep Moonvale from crumbling to the ground completely.

This is not completely spoiler heavy, but it will discuss the game. I should note that unfortunately I have not finished the episode because I am struggling with the mini games in making progress. So I do not know how the episode ends, but I need to say this in order for me to rest.

I am very angry and disappointed with this game, and even more than that, I hold a great deal of second hand embarrassment for Everbyte.

One of the greatest reasons I respected these developers during Duskwood is that the game never felt like a cash grab like so many games do these days. The option to make a one time payment for complete access to Duskwood was fantastic, an option they should have carried to here and that is the biggest grievance I have.

There is no reason a game should cost hundreds of dollars to experience and enjoy. There is no reason for the prices of gems to be as expensive as they are. This is unacceptable Everbyte, and you should feel ashamed of it, you should know better.

The beauty of Duskwood and what set it apart was its feel of realism and the fact that every question had a reasonable answer. Your use of AI art has cheapened the look of your game, not enhanced it, not to mention it’s insulting to use generated art when there are many artists who are already losing jobs to AI, artists who would have been happy to work with you if given the chance. If the cost of commission is too high, then use of stock photos you had before was just fine, and I believe you should have kept it, I can’t look at Ash and Charlie’s profiles without it striking me as goofy.

Furthermore, the story does not make sense, we were able to read chats because Jake made it possible for us, now it just feels like the return of a gimmick with no explanation, the same with the mini games, in the past we did mini games to “hack” into Hannah’s cloud, now we do it “just because”. It’s lost its feeling of meaning, not to mention most private chats are behind the gem paywall, which we never had to deal with before!

The characters seem more plain to me, or maybe they are loveable but I’ll never know because again, paywall. I can’t read the premium options and get to know them deeper because of it. There are also no profiles like before, which is awful because we can’t look back on past video calls and links and we can’t see what these characters are all about, their personality is gone.

Even MC’s answer options seem blander, more vanilla, repetitive or one directional.

I say this truthfully from my soul, if this was the style of of game you dropped but for Duskwood instead, I never would have played it.

I would have never fallen in love with it.

I would have never made this blog and would never have waited years for every episode and a new game.

I would have never made art and countless theories.

I would have deleted the game immediately.

So I’m asking you, begging you, please change this for our sakes, and especially for yours.

Because despite all my gripes and anger, and everything I’ve said, I know you guys have actually worked hard on this game because the evidence is there, hidden beneath it all.

I love the actual real life people you have for Adam and Eric, I was so moved to help Adam when he started to cry. I want to know why he knows us and wants our help. I laughed when Eric told us he had tripped, and I do want to get to know him. I even wished to lovingly twist Charlie’s neck! That is the game I remember loving, its writing and characters, I can see the potential here.

But you need to change something, otherwise I cannot support this game, I cannot force myself to play it. I will drop Moonvale.

Give the players a one time payment option for 100% complete access to the game, access to all premium options. That’s the least I feel anyone could ask of you and is biggest reason you are getting this backlash.

To my fellow players, if you agree with any of what I said then I ask you not to pay for anything until Everbyte changes to make their game more affordable. Don’t be quiet and please voice your opinions everywhere they can see it. That’s the only way something could change.

I am so sorry this is what we got… you all deserve better.

#i feel sick #make a change everbyte #moonvale #everbyte studio #everbyte #duskwood #moonvale x duskwood #moonvale release #moonvale game #moonvale everbyte

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fayesia · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, I hope this doesn't bother you but I had an idea for mike schmidt. Imagine him and the reader are fighting and the reader leaves him. Ever since the reader left him he starts to loose his mind cause he needs the reader to function. Abby notices her brother's situation so she makes it her mission to get him and the reader back together.

Short and Sweet — mike schmidt x reader

a/n: Hiii ofc u r not bothering me! Thank you for the request, congrats you’re the first one so i’m very much appreciative!!! I hope i did justice to your idea, again i’m kind of new to all of this but hopefully you like it :D

“god your so selfish do you even think before you act!!”

You can feel the eyes of people passing by as they return to their cars and pack away their shopping. Except you don’t care, not when this is the third time Mike has forgotten to pick Abby up from school.

“come on at least say something!”

“GODDAMNIT, i’m sorry ok!!”

“well sorry’s not enough Mike! Because when i get home from work and she comes running into my arms having already had a bad day at school it’s on you for making it worse” you exclaim back to him slamming the car door shut.

He does the same, quickly started the engine and driving with rough movements.

“oh yeah, now what? you’re gonna get us both in a car crash, leave your sister alone again-“

“oh my god ENOUGH OK shut up!!”

You fumble with your fingers looking out the window, not in sadness or fear but rather an immense amount of anger. You knew that your emotions would take over your response and you were not going to cry in front of Mike as if what he said effected you.

He parks in the driveway, opens the trunk to collect the groceries and rushes through the front door. You follow after him entering the bedroom and collecting all your things from the closet and bathroom. carrying your duffel bag, you make your way retrieving any items left around the house. Your wallet, keys, shoes and a picture of you and abby are collected as you leave back outside to your car parked across the road.

Sitting down in the drivers seat you stare blankly ahead slowly lowering your head to rest against the steering wheel, soft crys quickly turning into loud sobs that rack through your body. They continue until you reach your apartment, gloomily walking into the place you haven’t been in for months, having spent most days of the week at Mikes house. This place doesn’t feel homely like his though, rather it’s cold and depressing reflecting how you felt right now, which really wasn’t helping.

You’re pulled away from these thoughts as your phone starts ringing. ‘Abby bear’ flashes on your screen as you clear your throat to remove any hints of you crying.

“Hi Abby what’s up?”

“why did you leave” her shaky voice almost has you in tears again.

“what did mike say honey? i’m not leaving forever i just needed to get some stuff from my place”

“he said you were gonna be gone for awhile but would come back. I think he’s lying though his eyes are all red like he’s been crying and he hasn’t moved from your spot on the couch”.

As you listen to her soft voice explain all of this more tears drop down to your chin.

“i’m sorry abby i just think we need a break from each other i don’t know for how long but its something that needed to happen sooner rather than later. I promise i’ll come by and visit you soon, maybe Friday for this weeks movie night?”

“Yayy ok sounds good”

“i have to go now sweetie but make sure you finish all your homework and then you can relax”

“ok byee y/n love u”

“bye abby bear i love you too”

ending the call, you’re left with a gut wrenching feeling spending the rest of the evening crying yourself to sleep on the couch. pitiful? maybe. but you really needed this and now was the right time.

While you spent hours sleeping the pain away, Mike was basically doing the same thing. Abby walked up to him handing him a tub of ice cream “i heard from a movie that eating ice cream makes you less sad after a breakup”

“that’s not true Abby”

her face drops a little at this, Mike quickly trying to cover up his mistake.

“but thank you, why don’t we both eat ice cream and watch a movie”

“ok!!” she settles herself next to him, cuddling into his side with blankets strewn across their laps.

Abby was not very knowledgeable about breakups, only being ten years old herself, and the most she experienced in the romance department was having a crush on the fastest runner in her class.

She did know however that the way Mike was acting was not healthy for him. He spent hours on the couch or in bed, barely eating and if he wasn’t doing that then he would be at work or picking Abby up from school, sometimes they would go and get frozen yogurt which Abby loved the most. She just wished you were there with them like before, when the three of you would go together and spend hours having fun at park.

Abby knew she had to do something, anything she could to get things back to the way they were and she knew just the way to do that.

It had been a week since the break up and neither you or mike seemed to be doing to well in Abby’s opinion but she had a plan set up and tonight she was putting it into action.

Mike received a message from you, his eyes widening as he read, “meet at the park 6pm” a short and simple text. Effective too with the way Mike jumped up running to the closet to pull out his nicest shirt and trousers, and then to the bathroom to shower and prepare him for the night to come.

Abby giggled to herself as she heard the commotion from her brother, taking his phone she started phase two of the plan.

‘bzzz’ you flayed your arm around in an attempt to grab your phone, a yelp coming from your throat as you read the message on the screen. A singular sentence from Mike that read, “meet at the park 6pm”. You expected to read more but that seemed to be it. Short and sweet. You layed out a simple long sleeve top and your favourite pair of jeans, readying yourself for an everything shower.

Soon it was 5:55 and both you and Mike climbed up opposite ends of the hill to the park situated right at the top. There in the middle was a bench and that bench was surrounded by rose petals, with a rose bouquet in the middle, and the bench itself was surrounded by mini lights illuminating the area with a gentle yellow tone similar to the sky’s as the sun set. All of this of course was done courtesy of Abby and you were quick to realise when mikes face was filled with shock when stumbling over one of the yellow lamps, it was clear he was not the one who had set this up. However that didn’t matter to you, the feeling of being swept off your feet into Mikes arms instead was all you were thinking about. He pulled you close to his chest whispering how sorry he was over and over again into your hair as your head rested against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. You silently basked in the feeling of his comfort you dearly missed for that lonesome week the two of you spent apart, not quite ready yet to utter the words ‘i forgive you’ and he knew that after all the hateful words he’d said.

Instead you both sat together on the bench looking out at the setting sun, content with each other presence and no words. As nightfall was falling upon the park Mike grabbed your hand “gotta get back now, Abby will be waiting” he brushed your hand with his thumb for awhile almost hesitant to say something as you waited patiently. “do you want to come?” you break out into a smile, “of course, i always want to go with you”, you reply already dragging him by the arm to the directions of his house.

His house which you knew inside had a very nervous ten year old girl who would see you both walk through the door holding hands and celebrate the most out of all of you.

~unedited~

#mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x y/n

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ladykailitha · 6 months ago

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Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy

9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock

10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

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harrysblues · 2 years ago

Text

Eye Patch

The one in which Harry's kids get scared when their father gets hurt on stage.

.....................................................................................………

When Harry and Y/N's twins started to grow into toddlers, the couple quickly noticed that their youngest struggled to control her eye. That's why they didn't waste any time, and sooner rather than later, three-year-old Lena was wearing an eye patch to try to fix her strabismus.

The process of getting her used to wearing it was long and exhausting for Harry and Y/N, and they tried very hard to make it fun, buying eye patches with different shapes and designs. Their other twin, Harvey, was the most supportive of his sister, and he offered to wear matching eye patches with her whenever she was self-conscious about wearing it in public.

Harry and Y/N's twins might be toddlers, but they love and understand each other like no one else, and that fascinates their parents. Besides, the couple has tried so hard to make them understand that they are loved and supported no matter what, and it is very important to express their feelings with each other.

"Daddy do we have good seats for your concert tomorrow?" Harvey asks suddenly during their daily family dinner.

"Of course, my boy. The best in the house, always!" Harry answers, furrowing his brows. "Why do you ask, baby? You know you always get the best".

"I know, daddy!" His son answers playfully. "But it's the first time sissy is going to the concert with her eye patch, and I want her to have the best time".

Harry and Y/N can swear that their hearts melted when those words left their son's mouth.

"Oh," says Lena. "Daddy, I'm going to see you singing, right? You are going to be so far away, I need to see you".

Lena has always been a very anxious baby, and the family had, and still is, dealing with some heavy separation anxiety from her. The eye issue only added to this, and it has been hard for the couple to manage.

"Don't get nervous, my best girl" Harry tried to comfort her. "You three will have the best seats in the venue, and the important thing is to have fun! You see me every day, and I'm available always".

This seems to cheer her up, and the family moves on from this topic to talk about school. Sudden changes in conversation subjects are very common in the house, and Harry and Y/N can't lie and say they don't love it when their kids bring up things they want to tell their parents. Seeing them interact is one of their favorite things ever since they started to talk.

Dinner finished, and the kids were put to bed with a story read by Y/N and their song, Love of my life, sung by their father. It was not an easy thing to do like it usually is because they were too excited about their concert the next day. Even though Harry has toured for a while after they were born, this is the first time his twins are in the audience, watching him perform. Before this second leg of Love On Tour, they stayed backstage with Y/N and whoever would watch over them while Harry was putting on a show.

However, not long ago the twins started to feel more curious and understand more about their parent's, especially Harry's, lifestyle. That is the reason why they have let them watch the concerts whenever they show any interest about it.

The next day came by very quickly, and now the kids are getting ready with Y/N while Harry is rehearsing and putting together the outfit for tonight.

Lena has decided to wear a silver sparkly skirt that matches her cowboy hat paired with a t-shirt with a red heart in the middle, and Harvey is wearing bell jeans paired with a matching t-shirt with her sister and a royal blue boa. Y/N has let them choose their outfits, wanting them to have the most freedom possible, and she has to say she is quite proud of what they have come up with.

Unfortunately, the family didn't have enough time to wish Harry good luck like they usually would have, seeing that there had been an outfit malfunction, according to Harry Lambert, and the whole band was running late. This upset the kids for two minutes, and then Y/N suggested a face time call with Harry.

"Hi, my babies. I'm so sorry I can't see you before the show" He says with a pout on his face. "I promise I'll blow you a kiss from the stage, and give you lots of cuddles when I finish" Y/N can see the sadness on his face, knowing that he is upset he is not going to be able to get his good luck kiss and cuddle from his two favorite people.

"Don't worry daddy", says Lena. "Harvs and I just wanted to show you our outfits that mummy let us choose by ourselves!".

"Oh, isn't that right baby girl? Can you do a little twirl for daddy?" he says getting his face as close to the screen as possible, squinting his eyes to try to see his precious daughter in the most detail possible. "Daddy really wants to see your outfits".

The family spent the next thirty minutes following Harry around, from the make up chair to his changing room and everything, through his phone, until the moment it was time for him to change into his chosen outfit and get in the box.

"Okay babies, I need to go get ready", he tells them sounding way too devastated for him to be seeing them in less than fifteen minutes. "I'll see you on stage okay? Try to raise your hands the highest, sing the loudest, and have the most fun for me".

The kids promised to do all of that before blowing him multiple kisses and hanging up. They needed to get to their seats right now if they wanted to avoid getting swarmed by some fans. They are usually very polite and nice to Y/N, and especially the kids, but Y/N doesn't want to risk it without Harry there to help her.

They got there safely, and the twins, who are seated on each side of you, are happy to see that their father was right and that they have extremely good seats. They will be able to see their father without a problem.

"Mummy it's starting!" Harvey shrieks when the lights go out and the intro visuals start playing. "Oh my god mummy, I'm so excited!" Y/N never gets tired of how excited he gets every time he sees his dad in concert, it is always as if it was the first time.

Lena clings to your arm from the other side of you, her excitement for the concert to start being silent compared to her brother's. Y/N starts shouting and jumping with excitement as well, making her children copy her and start singing the songs. They also notice that Harry's outfit matches his children's, so that makes them shout even louder.

Harry doesn't take long to find them and when he sends a kiss to his family, the "Muah" that goes with his kiss is heard in the whole arena, making everyone aww.

"Mummy daddy can see us!" Both of the twins exclaim, shocked their father can see them from the stage. "If I send him a kiss will he see me?" Lena asks, genuinely curious.

You don't know how to answer because Harry is constantly moving on stage, so it would be very easy for him to miss his daughter trying to blow him a kiss. Nonetheless, Lena doesn't wait for her mothers approval and blows a kiss towards the stage.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry had been watching the whole interaction, and he didn't hesitate to take her daughter's kiss in the air and put it in his back pocket, making Lena squeal.

The concert goes as expected, and Y/N and the twins are having so much fun. Besides, Y/N is quick to notice that, distracted from the excitement, Lena hasn't once complained about the eye patch she has been in fact wearing in public. That is a huge achievement.

Y/N had planned to leave the seats and go backstage right before kiwi so they wouldn't have trouble getting there later. Nevertheless, a gasp distracts her from dancing carefree to one of the last songs of the concert.

"Mummy something happened to daddy", Lena says with concern in her voice. "Mummy someone threw something at daddy" She repeated, starting to tear up.

This makes Harvey notice how his father is rubbing his eye, and keeping it closed for way too long, making him worry and start clinging to his mum as well.

Both kids start full-on sobbing when they see their father unable to open his eye on stage, constantly rubbing it and trying to block the light from his eyes. Y/N hadn't seen the object, and she definitely doesn't want to ask her kids, so she is unable to assess the gravity of the situation. The only thing she is able to do is to take both of her kids in her arms and carry them backstage.

Once they get there she sits the kids on the sofa and dries their tears, trying to comfort them. "My babies don't cry"; she coos. "Daddy is the strongest person in the world, I'm sure he is fine. It just took him by surprise!"

This last sentence seems to calm the three-year-old twins, and they end up cuddling their mother, soft whines coming from them from time to time, sleepy eyes from all the tears getting hard for them to open.

The kids jump when they hear the door open, and when Harry goes straight to the bathroom instead of greeting them, they immediately start sobbing again. Harry hears them from the inside, and he is quick to open the door once he has checked his eye, and get to his babies as soon as possible.

"Oh my, sweet things", he says, quickly kneeling next to them and being almost pushed to the floor by the force his kids hugged him with. "What's happened? Did you not enjoy the show? Was it too loud?"

The kids don't respond, and Harry keeps rubbing their backs and kissing their tears away, unaware and completely clueless about what has made his sweethearts so upset.

"Daddy, someone hurt your eye!" Harvey exclaims with anger. "You are hurt, daddy". Harry's heart breaks with how upset he is.

"There is nothing to worry about, sunshine", he explains. "Daddy got hurt for a moment, but now I just need an ice eye patch to make the sting go away. I'll be perfect again in an hour".

"Eye patch?", his daughter perks up at the comment. "We match again?"

"Yeah baby, I'm going to match with the prettiest princess in the world", he tells her soflty.

"But mummy is the prettiest princess in the world", she fights back playfully.

"No no no, mummy is a queen", he clarifies turning to his wife. "Your mummy is the prettiest and most gorgeous queen in the entire planet".

"I agree", both of their kids say at the same time. "And then Harvey is the prettiest prince, and you are the prettiest king", finishes Lena, making Harry give her the biggest kiss on the cheek.

"That is right", Y/N answers while sitting down close to her family. "We are all beautiful and special in our own ways, isn't that right?".

"This deserves a big family hug for daddy to heal his eye, don't you think?", Harvey suggests, making Harry smile and hug his kids even closer. Y/N gets in the hug, giving Harry a passionate kiss and a knowing smile, she is sure that they are both thinking the same thing.

Their family is perfect, and they are the happiest they have ever been.

................................................................................................

I really hope you like this one guys! The response I have gotten with my first post has been insane, and now I feel very inspired to post my work. You can send requests for me to write, and don't forget to like and reblog! THANK YOU SO MUCH <3

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blessedwithabadomen · 7 months ago

Text

in love with the mess - day eleven

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, fingering dirty talk), angst, fluff

length : 6k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens

a/n : Enjoy!! Leave a comment if you do hehe 💕

•••

day eleven

What on earth was one supposed to do when everything they’d ever craved, ever needed without quite knowing that they’d needed it at all, suddenly seemed to appear right at their fingertips while knowing that every move toward it would only make it recede further?

Waking up in an empty bed had flooded my brain with loneliness, feelings of rejection, a cold seeping into my bones, just for a moment, completely automatically, but then the rest of my senses loaded in and as soon as my hearing permitted me to realise I was far from alone in the apartment, my whole body relaxed again. A chaotic mixture of shouting and uninhibited laughter filtered through the open door, interrupted by the tell-tale noises of pots and pans and everything else Oli’s kitchen had to offer. Then, slowly but surely, the scent of coffee reached my nostrils. I inhaled it deeply, turning onto my back and snuggling into the blankets for another minute.

How cruel was the world to gift me this moment? I wanted to sink into the bliss this morning provided. The domesticity. The soft wake-up, the realisation that Oli and Noah were preparing breakfast, the gentle lull of the bed that promised a future that could look exactly like this.

Could it? The pull at my heart stung more painfully than ever. The clarity that all I wanted seemed so close and yet unattainable hit me harder than before. I didn’t want to assume that either Oli or Noah were doing it with any ill intent, but the way they kept dangling this possibility in front of my face hurt all the same. What would it take to get this for real? Every morning of my life? My whole body seemed to ache with the love I had for them.

I was on the verge of giving up. Not giving up either of them or this thing we had going on. Giving up on being quiet. Giving up on hiding my feelings, lying about what my heart was screaming for, making myself and my needs smaller than they were. Maybe then, we would stand a chance. Maybe if I was being honest with them, they could be honest with me too. If only there was any sort of knowledge that their truth would bear the same content as mine.

Five more days of this tour. Five more days until we would, in some capacity, have to part ways. Oli was going back home to finish the album. Noah was heading on another tour. I was… well, packing up my things and trying to find a place to stay. How much longer would I manage to keep my mouth shut? I didn’t just want to blurt out a confession of love, hit them out of nowhere, possibly scare them away with my intensity. But I would have to speak up, sooner or later. Before the tour was over. I couldn’t leave without letting them know, even if it meant the end of things. Even if it changed my relationship with Oli irredeemably. Even if it meant never having Noah again. I’d simply have to find the right moment.

Or rather, moments. I wasn’t sure if telling both of them at the same time would be wise. They were two individual people that each deserved my undivided attention. As much as my heart was beating for both of them, it would be wrong to pretend it had the same quality with both. I’d known Oli for years, a crush that had been steadily growing, going dormant and growing again. Noah had only appeared on the scene recently, even if he’d caught my heart with no difficulties at all. But it was different. Every love was. Their own, the one between them, was too.

A loud clatter pulled me out of my thoughts. It was followed by a beat of silence and then rambunctious laughter. The smile on my face appeared involuntarily at the sound. Rolling myself out of the sheets, I quickly looked for something to put on, remembering I only had my dress from last night. Pulling a few drawers open, I located an oversized sweatshirt in Oli’s closet that I allowed myself to put on along with a pair of clean boxershorts. My underwear from last night was too sticky to even consider it.

The kitchen was a mess when I entered. It seemed like the two of them had made it their mission to open every single cupboard and then proceeded to place every single item in there somewhere completely different. In between, some cooking that wanted to be an English breakfast had happened. Still, as soon as I was spotted, shuffling toward them on bare feet, Oli made quick work of fixing a plate for me with whatever hadn’t gotten burned or landed on the ground in their mayhem.

“I promise, I actually know how to cook,” Noah whispered in my ear as he hugged me good morning, his hands moving upwards on my thighs until they disappeared under Oli’s shirt. “Not so sure about him though.”

We both turned to watch Oli plate some more stuff for Noah and himself, some of it looking suspiciously black, but he was obviously trying so hard to make it a good breakfast meal that my heart couldn’t help but flutter at the sight.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

•••

The morning was filled with half-edible food, giggles over the breakfast table and slow, lazy kisses on the couch as we took turns showering. Oli ended up lending Noah and me some clothes that definitely looked more ridiculous on me than it ever did on those two men, but it was still better than trying to make do with last night’s outfits again. It still very much felt like a walk of shame when the cab driver all but dropped us back off at the hotel. I almost asked if Oli would mind us grabbing our suitcases and going right back to his place to stay there for another night until we had to get going to London. But I didn’t.

Noah and I had planned to make a quick dash to our respective rooms to change into clothes that actually belonged in our closets while Oli would make his way to the venue, but the plan was foiled when we realised that the rest of Bad Omens were gathered in the hotel lobby, chatting and… well, probably waiting for Noah before heading to the arena together. Unfortunately, that also meant that the three of us were the topic of conversation as soon as we got spotted.

Folio saw us first, his eyes moving back and forth between us, then up and down our bodies as he seemed to realise what we were wearing. He gave a low wolf whistle that briefly caught the attention of every uninvolved person in the lobby, but he didn’t mind at all as he approached us with a big smile on his face.

“Noah! We’d been wondering where you were. You could have told us you were spending the night with your boyfriend and your girlfriend!”

In an instant, Noah’s face had taken on a blush like no other. He dropped my hand as if caught in some sort of compromising situation, his eyes darting everywhere but me or Oli.

“Very funny, Folio,” he mumbled, but there was no humour in his voice.

“Come one, you all look like you’ve had a very good night,” the drummer continued, harshly slapping Noah’s shoulder in what I assumed was supposed to be a friendly, if teasing, gesture. “No need to be shy about it.”

But Noah wasn’t shy about it. Not exactly. Noah was… somewhere between embarrassed and terrified. At least that was what he looked like. The shuffling of his feet, the way he played with the hem of the shirt and then suddenly let go as if stung by the realisation it was Oli’s, the restless energy. Even Folio backed off suddenly.

“I need to change,” Noah announced and before anyone had the chance to stop him or even say a single word, he had set off towards the lifts. He needed to change. He didn’t say he was going to. He needed to. It set off all the alarm bells in my head. I couldn’t let this whole situation run off its course again, whatever the course was. But I also knew better than to push Noah into what would only result in him withdrawing and refusing to talk altogether.

“We should talk to him,” Oli piped up next to me.

“We should. But not now. Bryan needs you for pictures and then you’ve got soundcheck. I’ll meet you at the arena, yeah?”

Oli nodded, not quite convinced, but knowing that his schedule called for him. We’d already taken the whole morning off, it was time to get back to work. I moved to quickly press my lips to his cheek before heading to my room as well, but he stopped me, hand on my neck, leading me exactly where he wanted me.

And then, in public, and in front of everyone still watching us, Oli Sykes kissed me.

•••

“Aubrey! Just the person I was hoping to see!”

I stopped dead in my tracks at Becky’s voice. I’d successfully maneouvered Oli from soundcheck back to his dressing room where he’d have a bite to eat in preparation for the show when I decided to see what sort of mood Noah would be in. If it was time to talk to him yet. As much as he preferred to battle his demons alone some times, there was a point where he would simply end up overthinking and, at worst, grabbing some bottles again, and I wanted to stop that process by all means necessary.

However, I’d only just made it into the general standing area of the venue when Becky called me over. I shot one more look at Noah on stage, in the middle of his own soundcheck and seemingly miles away in his mind, before walking over to the sound booth.

“So, slight trouble ahead,” she said, kneading her hands awkwardly. “Someone on the team is having a family emergency and he needs to leave after the show. Which means we’re good for tonight, but we’re a pair of hands short in London. I have some contacts for the Dublin show so that won’t be a problem, but no one is available for the next two days on such short notice. I’ve already talked to Oli and Noah and they agreed so I thought I’d ask if you could help out for those gigs?”

My brain was whirling with the amount of information she’d just dropped on me. But it was one particular piece it got stuck on - why had she asked Noah? Oli was a given, considering I was technically his employee and he’d have to do without me if I was gone during soundcheck and the actual show, but Noah didn’t make any sense.

“Noah?” I questioned, more to myself than anything else and Becky interrupted me immediately.

“Will you? Please say yes. It’s important. Really.”

“Sure,” I smiled, even though I felt anything but sure at that moment in time. Still, she needed help and if I could be of any use, it would be ridiculous to decline.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed, reaching over the barrier to pull me into a hug. “You won’t regret it!”

I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean either.

•••

Noah vanished right after soundcheck, which seemed to be a special talent of his. All of his usual hiding spots came up empty and if he’d left the venue in some capacity, there was no way I’d be able to track him. Trying the dressing room one more time, I opened the door, just a small gap, to peek inside, but the only person present at all was Nicholas.

To my surprise, he waved me in. I followed the invitation gratefully - not only was I out of ideas on where to find Noah before the show, I also didn't have anything else on my schedule for the day. Plus, I'd not really had the time to hang out with anyone apart from Oli and Noah lately.

A beer was thrust in my general direction as soon as I sat down on the other end of the couch. It wasn't my favourite, but I took it anyway.

“So, Aubrey, how are you doing today?”

I stared at Nicholas with the most suspicious look I could muster. “Nick, in the ten days we've been in this tour together, we've not once made silly small talk.”

He chuckled, a little nervously, a little caught out, but he looked so sweet that I couldn't even pretend to be mad. “Yeah, I don’t know why I said that.”

The silence settled between us for a moment, but I didn’t mind. I figured he’d called me in here for a reason, and I’d give him as much time as he wanted to needed to figure our what to say.

“Would you mind if we stole Noah away for the night?”

“What? I mean, of course. He’s your friend, you don’t need my permission to hang out with him.”

I had been hoping to spend the night with both him and Oli again. Go pack to his place. Maybe have a quiet night in before the four-hour drive to London tomorrow. Get some takeaway. Stare out of Oli’s windows to watch the city as it fell asleep and woke back up. But with Noah making an abrupt exit this morning at the hotel and being basically untraceable ever since, my hopes had been dwindling anyway.

“‘Course, ‘course,” Nicky mumbled, briefly looking up at me with a smile. “I’m not complaining about you spending time with him, by the way. But we…” He looked contemplative, as if trying to decide how much to tell me. “We sat down together, Folio, Jolly and I, for lunch today and we decided we need to talk to him. Because, well, he seems very happy to hang out with you and Oli but then it takes one comment from Folio and he just closes off completely.”

I’d seen it first-hand, more than once. They were right to be concerned, too. With all the fun we were having among the three of us, reality kept punching Noah in the gut relentlessly. I still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of demons he was battling, but they were weighing heavily on his mind and impacting his moods. The other three were probably both worried about his ability to perform as their frontman and how he was coping as their friend. And as much as Oli and I needed to talk to him, sooner or later, maybe what he needed right now was the people he’d known for years.

“I know,” I sighed in response. “He switches from extremely carefree to withdrawn and pissed off in a split second sometimes. An evening with the guys will probably do him good. If… I don’t know if it’s appropriate, but if he says anything, you know… I don’t know, that would be helpful to know… I know you don’t know me very well but I genuinely just want what’s best for him and I’m at a complete loss sometimes.”

Nicky’s hand on my shoulder was so reassuring, I suddenly felt like I had to bite back tears. “I’ll let you know. Unless we somehow get him to grow some balls and talk to you himself.”

I giggled, pushing away the emotions, leaning slightly into his touch, simply glad to know Noah was surrounded by people who really cared about him and his wellbeing. Even if that included bullying him on the low when he was being a diva about communicating properly. He deserved it, to be honest.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight then? Hope it’s not an intervention because that’ll probably make him run for the hills immediately.”

“No,” Nicky laughed slightly. “We’re just going to call it a guys’ night. Take him out after the show. Have a beer.”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow at him a little bit. Somehow, he caught it immediately. The questioning look on his face compelled me to talk.

“He’s been… drinking. I don’t know if that’s a general pattern with him, but, sometimes, it’s to the point where he doesn’t remember things the next morning.”

Nicholas seemed more somber than he had been the entire conversation. The way something flashed in his eyes, just for a moment, told me enough. Enough to know that this wasn’t exactly the first time he might have gone down that road. And that they were well aware of it, too.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Promise.”

I nodded, finally getting up from the couch with a heavy sigh, my almost untouched beer still in my hand. “Well. I’m going to need the rundown tomorrow. And if I don’t see you again before you leave, good luck.”

“I might need it.”

•••

Some days, things just tended to go wrong. And while, a lot of the time, I could accept that, be gentle with myself and move on, today was not like that. At all. What had started as a lovely morning with Noah and Oli had quickly spiralled into worries about the former, then feelings of confusion and being slightly overwhelmed at suddenly working with Becky for the next two days. I couldn’t find Noah anywhere, but I’d all but given up on that since the conversation with Nicky. I’d check up on the situation tomorrow, when, hopefully, some things were cleared up. At least in Noah’s head.

But then my AAA pass went missing. It wasn’t a massive problem, excluding the embarrassment of having to let people know that the person who was responsible for keeping Oli in check and organised had managed to misplace what was probably the single most important item on any given tour date. What bothered me much more was the fact that I’d attached my Powerfuff Girls keychain to it, as I’d been doing every day since I’d bought it.

Lee was the one to find me, near tears, picking apart Oli’s dressing room to no success.

“Alright, let’s walk through your day then. You’ve obviously had it when you arrived here or you wouldn’t have gotten in. Where did you go from there?”

I knew he technically didn’t have the time to run this through, but I was simply too distraught to send him away, silently grateful for his help as we re-traced my steps from Oli’s dressing room to the sound desk and catering to all the hallways I could have possibly walked. Additionally, both of us had shot messages into any group chats we were part of, but so far no one had replied with positive news.

“Wait, is that-”

Lee was pointing slightly further ahead in the hallway. I was there in an instant. There, on top of one of the boxes, was, indeed, a backstage pass. Adorned with my name. Only - there was no charm on it.

“But- that doesn’t make sense!” I exclaimed, turning the item over in my hands, then bending down to study the floor around the box. “If I’d lost it, it would surely be on the ground and not up here, right? And if someone picked it up, they could have given it back to me, because my name is on it. And why is the keychain missing? There’s no reason for it to detach!”

Lee shrugged his shoulders, not quite as bewildered as I was, but I figured he also didn’t have as much personal attachment to a keychain. I had the pass back, which should be all that mattered, probably.

“Aubrey! Aubrey, help!”

Oli’s voice echoed through the hallway. He didn’t sound like he was in any imminent danger, but I still set off as soon as I’d reattached the pass, finding him in the middle of his dressing room. He stood in the most awkward, uncomfortable way, his head strangely bent down toward his shoulder. I was about to question it when he turned around, showing me exactly what the dilemma was.

“My hair!”

I didn’t know how he’d done it, but some of his strands were caught up in the rings of his black jacket. I bit back a smile, very unsuccessfully.

“How the fuck did you do that,” I giggled, unable to hold the noise back as soon as I opened my mouth.

“Does it matter? Help me out!”

With laughter still wrecking my chest, I started fumbling with his hair and the accessories on his jacket, trying to be as delicate as possible as he kept making noises of pain even when nothing was actually tugging on his scalp. Drama queen. I finally pulled him free, giving him a soft kiss, before toying with his outfit until it was perfectly in place.

“Thank you, love,” he said, suddenly mellow. His hands were toying with my hair now, mindlessly playing with the strands as he stared at me. I felt as naked and vulnerable under his stare as I felt protected. “Can I invite you over to mine again tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask. Can we grab my suitcase this time though? I’d rather not do another walk of shame tomorrow morning.”

“Anything you want.”

I almost melted at how soft he was. I wasn’t sure if it was me or the fact that he was in his hometown, playing to more people than ever, knowing that friends and family were watching, but I wallowed in it all the same.

“I don’t think Noah’s coming, though,” I added after a beat of silence and only after I’d managed to tear myself away from the way his eyes were seeing right into my soul. “The guys are taking him out. But we’ll talk to him tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow,” Oli agreed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

•••

The show in Sheffield was nothing short of magical and when Oli came off stage, he was an electrified bundle of energy. He was all over me, pulling me into his arms, completely ignorant of the way his sweaty skin stuck to mine where my top didn’t cover me, swaying me side to side.

“Fuck, I just love playing here,” he mumbled into my hair before pulling away just so much that he could look at me without having to fully let go. “What do you say to going straight home? I really need a shower but I’m so tired of venue bathrooms.”

I ignored the way my heart fluttered at the idea of home being not just his but all of our place to retreat to. I had no idea if he’d meant it like that or not, but suddenly I wished for nothing more than a shared comfort place. With him, and with Noah. Instead of dwelling on it, I sniffed at the fabric of shirt, loudly, just to annoy him.

“Yeah, that’ll just about do, I don’t think the uber driver is gonna kick you out for that smell just yet.”

“You’re fucking rude,” he laughed, carefree and not the slightest bit impressed. Then he continued to envelop me in his arms, awkwardly rubbing his body against mine. “There. If I smell, you do too.”

I couldn’t hold back the giggle, pulling him away from where several people working at the venue pretended not to stare at us and his antics, and started making my way outside with his hand firmly in mine. “Guess we’ll both need a shower.”

•••

Neither of us mentioned the way the backseat of the cab seemed a little empty as we made our way to the hotel to pick up my suitcase and then Oli’s place. Even though Oli’s energy was filling the space tenfold and we kept talking, giggling, touching as innocently as possible while still being within the driver’s view, I was sure that he felt the absence of a third person in our midst. Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow we’d talk to him. For now, I decided to focus solely on having Oli all to myself tonight.

The place was as homely as the night before, immediately drawing me in. I almost wanted to collapse on the couch, place myself just in the right way to stare out the windows once more, stay like that until the sunrise appeared, but all of that went straight out my brain as soon as Oli started undressing. He was still in the living room, lights on, with the curtains still drawn open, removing piece by piece and letting it fall on the floor. It didn’t really matter that he was fully on display - no other building in the vicinity was close or high enough to grant anyone the view that I was getting.

More and more tattooed flesh was being put on show and I drank all of it in, studying Oli’s body in a way I never had the chance to before, his broad chest, strong arms, muscular thighs, his half-erect cock. By the smirk on his face, he enjoyed the way I attempted to commit every single details about him to memory.

“Come on, love, you can’t be getting into the shower in all of that,” he grinned, motioning toward my outfit, but made no move to step closer. I didn’t mind. I could undress all on my own.

It wasn’t that I was actively trying to impress or give a show, my entire being was much too clumsy and lacking self-awareness for that, but the way I removed my top, my bra then let my skirt and tights follow before dropping my panties down my legs still seemed to have him hypnotised. It didn’t make me feel insecure. It made me feel like the most desirable person on the planet.

With his hand softly taking mine, Oli pulled me down the hallway and into his bathroom, making quick work of turning the shower on, checking until he was satisfied with the temperature and then pulled me under the large waterfall shower head. It was pure luxury. Both the way the hot water was raining down on me and how Oli wrapped himself around me once more, nothing between our naked bodies, just touches all over that had me sigh in utter relaxation.

I could feel him growing a little harder against me as my nipples perked up, but neither of us was in any hurry to do anything about it. Instead, Oli grabbed one of the bottles on the shelf next to him, stepping back to first lather himself and then me in shower gel. His hands were all over, starting at my shoulders, moving over my breasts with the utmost care, one arm, then the other, moving down my body, my back, my thighs, until he was basically kneeling in front of me. I took it all, the goosebumps following in the wake of his fingers, shivers running up and down my body under his delicate touch. When he stood back up to direct us back under the water, I almost cried out at the loss of his hands on me, before they were back, scrubbing me clean, reaching every single inch of my body. I did the same for him.

I couldn’t tell how long we stayed there as the mirror and the windows fogged up, I still could have remained there for longer, feeling safe and protected and warm, the world outside nothing but a far away thought that had no room between us. But my skin was getting wrinkly from the water and my brain was starting to get mushy from the heat, so we reluctantly detached from each other and stepped into the humid bathroom. Oli wrapped a towel around me, impossibly fluffy, then put another around his waist. We dried each other’s hair as much as possible before giving up, deciding we’d deal with the mess of it tomorrow.

Oli’s bed was unmade, none of us having had the time to strip and remake it this morning and it gave me a brief ache in my chest when I realised just how much Noah was missing, but Oli gently pushed me onto the bed, both of us losing our towels as we slid under the blanket, lights out, still staring at each other as much as our eyes allowed as they got used to the darkness.

“You’re amazing,” he said out of nowhere, his voice a little rough as we hadn’t spoken much since arriving, but it was his words which took me by surprise. “I’m sorry we drifted apart so much in the past. I think I pushed away just how much I need you.”

He moved a strand of hair away, tucking it gently behind my ear, and I had to take care not to let a trail of tears follow. Something in his voice was so honest, so vulnerable and true that I couldn’t help being emotional. It was more than I’d ever gotten from Oli, more than I’d ever thought I’d get, and even with everything that had been transpiring on this tour, I hadn’t seen it coming.

“I need you too, Oli. I don’t…” I swallowed, hard and audibly, my hand finding his, intertwining our fingers. “I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

It still felt like a risk, saying it out loud, not yet daring to say what I was really burning to utter, but hoping and praying that he knew, that he would get it, that my voice and my eyes and my hand in his would tell all. And when he kissed me, it felt like he did. When his hand wound up in my hair, it felt like he did. When he sighed against my lips, so softly, it felt like he did.

I wanted to stay in this moment forever. Anything that meant keeping his hands on me and his mouth on mine. It was so impossibly soft and sweet, it almost made me believe I was dreaming. But then Oli rolled himself on top of me, hot skin warming up my own, every single inch of him on me, his lap slotted against mine, my nipples hardening as they rubbed against his chest, and the kissing suddenly wasn’t even close to being enough. I wanted him, needed him, all of him.

The blanket was easily kicked off as the temperature rose, our naked bodies emitting more than enough heat as my thighs wrapped around Oli’s waist, pressing him harder against me. His mouth moved from my lips to my jawline, down my neck, over my breasts. All I could do was sigh in pleasure, letting his long hair tickle my skin on the way. I could feel he wanted to move further, until his head would rest between my legs, but I held onto his shoulders, then pulled ever so slightly at the back of his scalp to make him look up at me. Those gorgeous, deep, ever-changing eyes that lured me in, even when the dark room, illuminated by nothing but street lights below and the moon up above, barely let me see them.

“I want you, Oli,” I mumbled as soon as we were face to face again. “I just… want you.”

Oli, miraculously, understood. He kissed me again, so deeply that it made my head swim, before reaching down. I gladly let my legs fall open a little more, inviting his fingers in.

“At least let me prepare you a little, my love,” he whispered against my neck, one finger entering me with a sound that was impossible to ignore, a second immediately following. “So wet, so lovely and wet, just for me.”

I tried to get him closer, get more of him, pulling him in, everything that he would give me. I was losing control quickly, of the way my body moved, of the noises that he ripped from me.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me touch you like this.”

At the way his words sounded, voice low and raspy.

“Been dreaming about this so long, you don’t even know. Never thought you’d allow me to be with you like this. That you’d let me have all of you.”

He pumped his fingers a few times, experimentally adding a third finger which barely took any effort to slide in at all. Every single one of his words seemed to send another wave of lust over me, leaving me dripping and relaxed and more than ready to take him. When he pulled away, I whined pathetically, almost grabbing at his arm to keep him there.

“Come here, sweet thing.” He held his fingers out to me, tapping my lips to get me to open up. I licked them clean eagerly. “Taste yourself. Taste what you’re giving me. All for me.”

My brain wouldn’t have worked even if I’d actively tried to use it. I dumbly sucked on his fingers, a delirium waiting to happen, barely registering when he removed them from my mouth again to reach for the bedside drawer. He blindly grabbed a condom, ripping it open and putting him on, all the while keeping his eyes on my as much as possible. I loved how they looked. All hooded and pupils blown, full of arousal. I could only imagine he would be staring back at the same sight.

I immediately wrapped my legs around him again when he settled back on me. His forehead rested on mine, both of us breathing heavily, unable to keep still or quiet enough for another kiss when he pushed in.

“So perfect,” he moaned, completely in tune with mine when he buried himself in me. “So perfect, sweetheart.”

Then he started to move, slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid I could break or fall apart underneath him, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I wouldn’t. I felt like I was barely able to breathe. His cock in me, perfectly filling me up, his hands, whenever they weren’t holding his body up, everywhere on me. His eyes fully focused on mine.

The closeness hadn’t been there before. Not to this extent. And it almost made me want to break out in tears. It was simply so much, bordering on too much, while being just perfect, and all I could do was claw at his back, pull him that impossible inch closer, feel him all over, his breathing mixing with mine. He still took the time to look into my eyes, all throughout. One of my hands moved from his back to his cheek, unable to keep myself from touching his face, cradling it lovingly, a soft moment in between the heavy moans and loud noises.

Still, I didn’t see it coming.

Both of us were on the edge, steadily leaning over it and ready to fall. His thrusts were becoming quicker now, a little more shallow, and then his fingers were on my clit and I came so fast, it took me by surprise. I clenched around him, riding out my high with fingers digging into his back, letting myself fall into the feeling completely, knowing he’d be there to catch me and then he came undone too, low groans accompanying his release as he rutted into me again and-

“I love you.”

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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ghcstao3 · 1 year ago

Text

Soap likes to draw. It’s a simple fact of his life, and just about anyone who knows him knows it too. On or off base, he’s usually never without a notebook and an apparatus of some kind, because it passes the time, and it serves well to document his missions in further detail for both himself and debriefing.

Everyone knows this, and Soap is aware of that. What no one knows, however, is Soap’s favourite subject, because that’s a notebook that’s kept secret and often left only to be used on leave.

The only person who knows is Ghost, whose form fills those pages in some way or shape, because Soap knows damn well no matter the effort he’d never be able to hide such a thing from him, especially not once they’re living together beyond work.

(Of course, it doesn’t help, either, that Soap prefers to study Ghost while he sketches, rather than drawing solely from memory—because how else would he capture the most intricate of details?)

That being said, Soap could trace the fixation back to a single moment in time, where an itch to scratch branched off into a near obsession from only a couple of seconds, and that moment is the first time Soap ever sees Ghost’s face.

It’s unexpected, the way Ghost pulls off his mask in front of the 141 and company. His eyes are almost squirrely, never quite meeting anyone’s gaze, but Soap doesn’t think he’s ever been so in love.

He doesn’t get quite enough time to memorize, however, before another mask is being slipped over mussed blond hair and pale scarred skin, and suddenly Soap is overcome by the desire to draw Ghost.

To draw Simon.

When they finally arrive back on base following the Las Almas operation, Soap doesn’t waste any time pulling out his notebook and drawing Ghost to the best of his memory. When he finishes, he knows he’s gotten some things wrong, but he hasn’t much to work with. He erases and pencils in new lines tens if not hundreds of times trying to get it right, but it simply isn’t possible.

It’s too bad for Soap, because he just isn’t satisfied with his current result, and it’s too bad for Ghost, because Soap is a persistent, stubborn sonuvabitch.

They’re not quite on leave when Soap begins his endeavour, just between missions. He starts by making a purposeful show of drawing the 141, forcing them to sit so he can, supposedly, get everything perfect. It’s under the guise that he sucks at drawing people (a complete and utter lie), and what better way to practice than with those waiting around.

Soap saves Ghost for last, and it’s a damn good thing he does, because what a difficult affair it is convincing him to sit for, what Ghost deems, “a stupid art project”.

“I have better things to do, Johnny,” Ghost tells him. “And you do, too.”

Soap shrugs. “Maybe. But I won’t stop asking ‘til you agree, Lt.”

Ghost would continue to push off the request—a true testament to his resolve, really—but Soap would continue to insist, so finally, eventually, Ghost breaks.

The encounter is more than reluctant, but Soap figures that Ghost has realized it's either now or later that it happens. He still wears his mask, of course, but it’s only the balaclava—so at the very least, Soap could get his eyes just right.

And that’s a better start than none.

They’re tucked away in a quiet corner of the base for Soap’s “stupid art project”. Ghost shifts constantly while Soap scribbles away in his notebook, first unsure where to look, then unsure of where to put his hands. Soap wears a smile the entire time.

“You’re allowed to move, you know,” Soap says after much too long of a time. He keeps himself from laughing. “It’s better if you do, really.”

Ghost glares daggers at Soap. “You didn’t want to tell me that sooner?”

Soap grins at the Lieutenant but makes no further comment. He’d rather have his life spared for the time being.

Once Soap has finished, he doesn’t say anything. He just sets his pencil down and closes his notebook and makes to leave. Ghost watches every movement closely and remains silent himself. Only, he doesn’t move from his spot, and Soap can almost feel that he has a question he’s debating to ask.

It never ends up phrased as a question, but Ghost’s hesitation is so palpable it might as well have been.

“Let me see.”

Soap hadn’t expected Ghost would want to, though a part of him had most definitely hoped otherwise. He doesn’t put up a fight for such a reason, instead wordlessly passing the notebook to Ghost to browse.

It’s Soap’s turn to fidget as Ghost flips through pages. Most take only a few seconds, nothing more than an impassive look, but Soap knows the moment Ghost stumbles upon the page of his face, sans mask. There’s an instant of realization from them both, and the world feels at a standstill.

When Ghost clears his throat, Soap does his best not to flinch. Maybe this endeavour isn’t worthwhile. Maybe it’s nothing more than an invasion of Ghost’s privacy. Of his person.

Finally, Ghost looks up at Soap, his hardened gaze no different from the one he always wears. There’s no emotion in them, and Soap doesn’t know if that makes everything better or worse.

Soap doesn’t notice how tightly Ghost grips the notebook until later, when he spots the accidental smudge of graphite from the Lieutenant’s thumb.

“When did you do this, Johnny?” Ghost asks. His voice is low and steady as usual, but there’s a near unnoticeable strain that sends guilt through Soap’s body. By now he’s certain he’s made an irreparable mistake.

Soap swallows. “When we got back from Las Almas, sir.”

Ghost looks back at the drawing and nods. He does as Soap had and closes the notebook, sliding it back and standing from the bench where Soap had told him to sit. Soap waits nervously, impatiently, for Ghost to say anything, to curse him out, to tell him to get rid of it, but soon it seems like he would do nothing of the sort.

“Not bad,” is all he tells Soap, before walking off to disappear to God knows where. Soap stays glued to the spot for a solid five minutes following, until he finally feels like he can breathe again.

Not bad. Soap supposes it could’ve been a lot worse.

#i hope i haven’t posted this before #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #soapghost #ghoap #ghostsoap #writing

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rustingcat · 1 year ago

Text

Magic

"Kara!" A voice echoed in her head.

"Kara! Stay with me!" The voice continued. She heard it start to speak again but the endless darkness consumed her before she could hear the rest.

The next time she heard the voice it was accompanied by a different one.

"She's moving"

"I think it's working."

"It's better."

Kara tried to open her eyes, but everything was too bright. She let out a small groan which only made her realise how dry her mouth was, it felt like sand and rocks.

"Kara?"

A warm hand laid on her arm, making her dare to finally open her eyes. Blinking a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the light, Kara was greeted to the face of her beautiful Lena, and her worried sister by her side.

"Oh, thank god," Lena exhaled.

"Did he..?" Kara's voice came out hoarse and raspy.

"We got the guy," Alex assured her, handing her a glass of water. "It was one of the guys that escaped after the heist a few months back with the alien weapons. Apparently he got blasted by one of them and it caused him some strange mutation and a hunger for electricity. He's in holding now, we're looking for a way to cure him. You did good Kara."

Kara nodded, afraid to use her voice again. She decided to finish the glass of water, instead.

"How are you feeling?" Lena asked softly.

"Pretty beaten," she tried to chuckle but only a small huff came out. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours. Luckily Lena had created this new serum, it means you're up early but you'll probably be powerless for a while." Alex explained, making some notes on the pad she grabbed from the end of Kara’s bed.

A few hours was quite impressive, she assumed she should've been out for at least a day.

"Wait!" Reality suddenly came back to her, "the kids!"

"They're fine!" Lena reassured her.

"Did I…" Kara swallowed hard. "Did I miss the birth?" Kara really hoped she didn't. Not that it would matter too much in the long run as long as they're healthy and happy, but she really wanted to be there to greet them when they come.

"No, of course not." Lena touched her hand and smiled her calming smile. "I waited to see if the serum worked so we could do it together. They should meet both their mothers when they come out after all."

Kara breathed a sigh of relief. They were okay and they were waiting for her. Most importantly Lena was not only waiting for her, but made her a special emergency serum that worked perfectly. Well, Lena made it, of course, it would be perfect. "I love you." Kara raised her hand to link her fingers with Lena.

"I love you too." Lena gave her hand a squeeze. She was definitely solar flared, going by the feeling of her squeeze. "Can you move?"

"Hey! You can't move her now! She needs a full day under a sunlamp at the very least before she moves!" Alex interjected, emphasising her point by talking with her hands.

"Alex," Lena's tone turned professional. "My kids are about to come out into the world today and they need us both. Plus, the serum should give her a pretty good solar radiation boost, by the time it wears off I promise you she'll be well tucked into a sunbed as she should be."

"Right," Alex nodded. "I'll keep it warm for you." She had enough sense not to argue with Lena Luthor in mother mode. Probably a lesson she'd be glad she learned sooner rather than later.

"That won't be necessary, she'll stay in the one we have at home."

"We have a sun bed?" It was news to Kara.

"Yes. Now, can you stand?"

Read the rest of the chapter on AO3

#they're here!#one more day to go!#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #my art #my fic

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phyx-m · 9 days ago

Text

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 10: A Snake Shedding Its Skin

Content warning: violence, murder, angst, wounds, blood

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Vivaldi Winter - Viggy Lovesong - Snake River Conspiracy

* * * * *

Chapter 9 | Chapter 11

* * * * *

Five days have passed since that night—five days of silence between you and Sukuna. Five days of fleeting glances. Five days and the bite mark on your neck has faded into a soft scar.

During this time, you often catch glimpses of him around the shrine from afar. You see him in the garden, near the stables, or passing through the dimly lit corridors. His pink hair, his presence—everything about him is impossible to ignore.

Yet, you manage to do just that.

You keep to yourself, taking all your meals in your chambers. And Sukuna makes no effort to summon you.

It’s much easier to become strangers when you are already strangers, to begin with.

But sooner or later, you will need to seek him out.

Rolling over on the futon one morning, your body feels particularly sluggish. It doesn’t help that the overcast skies spill a muted grey glow into the room.

You are unsure why you feel so exhausted, especially since your sleep has drastically improved. Since you began pleasuring yourself each night to avoid disturbing Sukuna with your night terrors, bad dreams have ceased. However, when you indulge and your thoughts turn filthy, you find they drift toward him.

Was it wrong to make yourself cum while fantasizing about the monster you hate and plan to kill?

Probably.

On a deep breath, you stretch and cocoon yourself under the sheets, the warmth tempting you to drift back to sleep. Your eyes close, body growing heavier.

If you are honest with yourself, the last five days have felt subdued, pleasant even. Enough time to wallow in your shame but also enough time to forgive yourself. And you knew you needed to cling to these moments because, eventually, everything would start to unravel again.

Knock, knock.

Two immediate, sharp raps sound at the door, jolting you upright.

“Come—”

Before you can finish, it slides open rather quickly, revealing Sayuri and Ren. Both are dressed in finer robes than usual, their hair styled with intricate detail, makeup painting their face.

“My Lady! Why are you not up yet?” Ren snaps as she rushes into your chambers. Her skirts swirl with her movements as she carries a large wooden box. Sayuri follows at a more leisurely pace, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Why? What’s happening?” you ask, sitting up a little straighter, trying to understand the sudden disruption of the quiet morning.

Ren sets the box on the low table, shooting Sayuri an exasperated look.

“Did you not inform her about the first of the new month?” Ren demands.

“I forgot,” Sayuri quips with a nonchalant shrug and a biting smile that is new to you.

Ren exhales sharply and begins to move around the room, pulling a fresh undergarment from your wardrobe, seemingly trying to urge you into action.

“What’s so important about the first day of the new month?” Your eyes track Ren, watching her calm demeanour slip away.

“On the first day of each new month, those under Master Sukuna’s rule come to the shrine to pay their tributes—offerings,” Sayuri explains nonchalantly, settling down at the end of the futon. “This takes place in the central hall. People have already started to arrive.”

The realization hits you like a cold slap.

“Master Sukuna has requested that you be there on time. Dressed and punctual,” Ren adds, giving Sayuri another look.

So, he has finally summoned you.

“He will be displeased if you are late,” Ren emphasizes.

“How much time do I have before I need to be there?” Your voice wavers a bit.

“Less than thirty minutes.”

“What?” you hiss, scrambling up. Sheets snag your leg, dragging your exhausted body down, forcing you to stumble into a pile of limbs on the floor.

“My Lady!” Ren gasps while Sayuri struggles to stifle a fit of high-pitched laughter.

“I’m fine.” You exhale, quickly rising to your feet, grabbing the undergarment from Ren’s hands and disappearing behind the partition to change.

You were hoping to be more prepared to face Sukuna again, but there’s no time.

Shit.

When you emerge, your attendants are busy arranging your bedding.

“That—” Ren says, pointing to the box she arrived with. “Is for you, my Lady. I’ve been instructed to have you open it.”

With a sense of trepidation, you approach it.

The wood is carved with elegant, intricate designs of flora and fauna, wisteria flowers that tangle and curl, deer navigating dense foliage. You touch the wood’s rich grain before carefully sliding the lid off to peer inside.

“Beautiful…” you breathe at the sight.

Five kimonos, each more exquisite than the next, rest inside. Alongside them are five pairs of matching silk gloves. You gently run your fingertips over the kimono on the top, carefully lifting it from its wooden confines.

It appears to be perfectly tailored to fit you.

Confusion furrows your brow as you worry your bottom lip.

“Who are these from?” you ask, eyes crinkling with suspicion.

Both attendants glance at you, then at the garment held between your fingers.

Silence.

Of course.

Ren opens her mouth, but you have already pieced it together.

“What am I expected to do with them?” you ask, cutting her off before she can say Sukuna’s name.

Ren leans down to smooth out the final cotton sheet on the futon, making sure every tuck and fold is precise. “You will be expected to wear one today,” she says plainly.

Another one of his games? A ploy to manipulate you with these ridiculously beautiful silks, only to turn it into something cruel. It feels all too familiar. You are not falling for it.

“No. I won’t be wearing one.” You force the words out, placing the kimono back into the box, then sliding the lid shut.

Sayuri’s eyebrows cut upward. “But, my Lady, your husband went out of his way to give you these gifts. It would be only polite to show a bit of gratitude and wear one.” A string of irritation clings to her tone.

Fuck my husband.

“Oh, I have gratitude.” You spit the words out as if they are sour.

Moving toward the wardrobe, you rummage through your garments until you find what you are looking for.

You pull out a kimono you have yet to wear—one you have avoided because of its association with another vile man in your life.

You don’t glance at your attendants to gauge their reaction. There’s no time.

Across the room, you approach the small lacquer box containing your silk gloves, select a charcoal pair, and then turn back to them.

“I know I asked you both to avoid assisting with my personal needs, and I appreciate your respect for that. However,” you say, gently fidgeting with your gloves, “if you could help me now, I would be forever grateful.”

* * * * *

You emerge from your chambers, looking both devastating and defiantly petty all at once.

Fabric the colour of darkening nightfall—deep velvet red bleeding into cool violet—envelops you. A burnt sienna obi cinches at your waist, holding the garment perfectly in place. Gold threads intricately weave your clan’s family seal—a serpent coiling around the hem of your kimono, consuming its own tail, embodying the eternal nature of the Kasai clan. The symbolism, a choice made by your father, feels hollow and pretentious to you. Yet, you can’t help but wonder if he caught sight of you right now whether he would be proud.

Probably not.

You hurry toward the central hall, strides quickening as you realize you are past the expected time.

The hall is likely filled with people who were once under your father’s control—or tyranny, as you see it. About six years ago, when the King of Curses began escalating his reign of terror, many of your clan’s territories fell into his grasp, along with their inhabitants. Now, those same people have been coerced into gathering here today.

You view Sukuna’s invitation as nothing more than a display of dominance over your clan, a way of showcasing you as his conquest.

And here you are, about to make your entrance in all your finery—a deliberate provocation aimed at your monstrous husband. A very public slap in the face, a fuck you of sorts.

You can’t help but question your sanity.

Perhaps you lost it five days ago, the night Sukuna touched you in ways you never knew you needed. You hate him for it—hate how he occupies your thoughts, how he has gotten under your skin.

“She shouldn’t be wearing that,” Sayuri snaps. “It’s completely disrespectful to Master Sukuna to display her clan’s colours in—”

“Hush, leave it,” Ren interrupts, both walking close behind you.

You ignore their bickering. Nerves fraying, you concentrate on your footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden floor.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Tell me what I need to know before I walk in there.” You try to keep your voice steady, but it wavers.

“It’s quite simple,” Ren replies. “A representative will arrive with something of value. Master Sukuna will decide whether it meets his standards.”

You scoff, then your stomach churns.

“How many people usually lose their lives on this day?” The topic of Sukuna’s bloodlust has never been openly discussed between the three of you.

The corridor leading to the central hall draws closer.

“It depends on his mood, my Lady,” Ren says.

“And what is his mood today?”

A pause.

A pause that makes you nervous.

You question if your choice of kimono was a mistake.

The three of you turn the corner.

“He has been quiet and volatile lately,” Sayuri murmurs. Although you can’t see her face, you sense a trace of desperate longing in her voice.

“How so?”

“He has been different the last few days,” Ren explains. “We have not been in his presence for some time, but from the few words I’ve exchanged with him, he is rather… pensive.”

“A few days? Or five?” The question escapes before you can stop it.

“Yes, five,” Ren confirms.

“I see.”

The scar on your neck burns. You adjust your hair to keep it concealed, unsure if your attendants know about the incident with Sukuna. You doubt they do, but still.

The massive double-leaf doors come into view.

“What will be expected of me?” The urgency in your words grows.

“Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure,” Ren says.

"Master Sukuna has never taken a wife. This situation is entirely new to us,” Sayuri adds.

You nod.

“Well, for what’s worth, I’m glad to have both of you with me now.”

You reach the doorway.

It feels like a lifetime since you were last in the central hall—since your wedding to the brute, since your clan left you here.

Tilting your head, you strain your ears.

Murmuring voices drift out from within. The absence of screaming could be a good sign—unless Sukuna has already slaughtered most.

Ren moves to your side. Gripping the door, she gives you a reassuring nod and then slides them open.

You take a step forward, the air hits you, tangy and foul. You still.

A few lanterns barely penetrate the vast, dark space. The meagre illumination reveals a nervous, lumbering crowd of nearly forty individuals awaiting judgment. The severed limbs and scattered bodies on the floor suggest that the number may have been higher.

The floor itself is smeared with something slick—blood or vomit, you can’t tell.

Other shrine attendants move around the room, hauling away offerings their Master deemed acceptable. While some work in pairs, dragging away fresh corpses with grim efficiency.

“You're late,” Uraume chides, approaching on silent feet.

It’s difficult to tear your eyes away from the gruesome scene, but you manage to do so.

“I apologize,” you say, meeting their cold gaze.

Uraume bows, then assesses your appearance, noting your attire. A faint ghost of a smile flickers across their otherwise expressionless face.

“This way, my Lady.”

Weaving a clear path through the crowd of onlookers, Uraume unmistakably directs you toward the throne. Toward Sukuna. A quick glance over your shoulder reveals Sayuri and Ren right behind you.

Nervous eyes from the crowd follow your group, some lingering on your kimono. Their looks of interest and confusion turn murmurs into an uneasy silence.

It’s the silence that makes your head throb.

As you approach the throne, you focus on Uraume’s white hair, forcing yourself to keep your gaze on them. Avoid looking elsewhere. Anywhere but further ahead.

But that smattering of pink hair catches your vision.

You avert your eyes to your gloved hands.

Sukuna’s presence, thick and oppressive, fills the room, uncaring of who it suffocates.

After two more steps, the base of the raised dais meets your feet.

Heat scorches the top of your head, and you don’t look up. There’s no need to.

His gaze, unending and relentless, is on you.

From the corner of your eye, Uraume sweeps to your left and drops into a bow. Sayuri and Ren position themselves to your right and follow suit. All three are graceful, and poised.

You, however, sink into the most atrocious, over-exaggerated bow you can muster.

You are unsure whether recklessness, spite, or something far worse drives your actions. All you know is that you feel like a stranger to yourself.

Mid-motion, you lift your head to the throne.

And there he is.

Cold, hollow eyes drag from the hem of your kimono to the top of your skull.

Oh, but the look he gives you.

A smile so sickeningly sweet spreads across your face.

“My Lord,” you drawl, subtly wetting your bottom lip.

Sukuna tilts his head, regarding you as though he's never seen you before. His upper lip, twitches, then curls up on one side, showing teeth.

The look of utter distaste.

Perfect.

You straighten up, presenting yourself fully for his scrutiny, just as you take in his appearance.

The King of Curses lounges casually, back pressed firmly against the throne. His upper arms relax on the armrests while his lower pair fold in slightly. He’s wearing a dark, muted blue kimono that parts over his body in such a way that it compels you to stare far longer than you intended.

One leg extends, while the other is bent to the side, revealing a hint of a storm-grey pleated hakama beneath. The dark burgundy obi tied at his waist provides the only colour in an otherwise monochromatic ensemble. Tabi socks and wooden sandals adorn his feet, though you half expected him to be barefoot.

As your eyes peel back up, you notice the kimono gaping open at the neckline—perhaps too much for your liking. A lie.

Suddenly, your throat dries as if moisture and air have vanished.

You swallow and redirect your gaze to his face. He notices your admiration, and his look of distaste changes to one of arrogant pleasure.

“My Lady,” he sneers, leaning forward. “I haven’t seen or heard your lovely voice in days. I’m glad you could finally grace me with your presence. And, you look…” He doesn’t allow himself to finish; just stares at you.

Lovely voice.

A barb at how easily you fell apart for him nights ago.

Your gaze thins.

“Thank you for inviting me, husband.” The title, you lace with venom. “I’m eager to see how you uphold your righteous standards today. Though perhaps my commentary isn’t necessary. It seems you are managing quite well on your own—better than my father ever did.”

Sukuna’s gaze hardens.

“My Lady,” Uraume warns.

Sayuri and Ren shift on their feet.

You lower your head in a gesture of respect this time.

“I apologize, my Lord,” you reply with a practiced sweetness. “I’ve spoken out of turn.”

Sukuna fixes you with a stare before turning it to Uraume.

“She stays,” he commands, gesturing you with two fingers. “Ensure she sees everything.” His tone turns cold, making you bristle.

“Yes, Master,” Uraume responds with a bow, then motions for you to follow.

You and Sukuna lock eyes as you pull away, allowing Uraume to guide you to the right side of the room. There, a small seating area has been arranged with cushions and a flickering lantern, creating a small oasis of comfort in an otherwise hellish atmosphere.

Feeling slightly nauseous at the sight, you reluctantly settle onto a cushion. Ren joins you, while Uraume stands nearby. Meanwhile, Sayuri approaches another attendant, retrieves a ceramic bottle from them, and then saunters cheerfully to Sukuna’s side.

“What now?” you whisper to Ren, watching as a nervous-looking man approaches the base of the dais, carrying a heavy sack.

Sukuna leans forward in his seat, his anticipation almost giddy at the prospect of more bloodshed.

“Now, my Lady. We watch and hope that at least half of these people leave here alive.”

* * * * *

Understanding what the King of Curses considers a suitable offering eludes you.

He has reviewed countless tributes, accepting everything from trivial and practical items to completely absurd ones.

A rather poor painting was chosen over a beautiful maiden. A fucking sack of plums over a masterfully crafted long-handled sword.

It’s infuriating. His choices are insidious, deliberately conceived to instill fear. One can never be sure if what they’ve brought will result in a death sentence or not.

The man is a true menace, and this cruel display has been dragging on for hours.

Sukuna’s upper right fist bursts through the skin and breastbone of a man whose offer has gone awry, spraying a fine mist of blood in every direction. A piercing shriek fills the room as bones snap and tendons tear.

“Damn it,” you rasp, clenching your eyes shut.

Sukuna erupts into manic, vicious laughter as he pulls his hand from the man's chest cavity with a wet, suction-like sound. The body collapses to the floor.

The room may be filled with people, but not a single sound escapes from anyone. It’s silent. No one breathes.

You slowly crack your eyes open.

Sukuna steps away from the corpse that now rests before the dais and maneuvers his imposing form back to his throne. Two attendants swiftly move in to remove the limp body.

As he settles into his seat, you notice his fist is smeared with blood and viscera. Without a hint of concern for her own attire, Sayuri swoops in and uses her kimono to eagerly clean his hand.

“Who’s next?” Sukuna’s deep voice rattles through the space, ignoring your attendant beside him.

His crimson eyes survey the dwindling crowd of fewer than ten people. Impatiently, he drums his fingers on the armrest of the throne.

The next unfortunate bastard, a dark-haired man, steps toward the dais, pushing a hand cart loaded with several sacks.

“Has anyone ever tried to kill Lord Sukuna?” you suddenly ask Ren in a hushed tone.

Ren turns to you.

“Pardon?” she murmurs, eyes narrowing.

“I mean, aside from in battle… has anyone ever made an attempt on his life?” Your voice drops even lower.

The way she studies you makes you realize you might be overstepping. Her posture remains unchanged, but something in her eyes shifts subtly.

“Yes, my Lady, but to be clear, Master Sukuna can—”

“Wife!”

Both of you snap your attention to the King of Curses, who is beckoning you with a wiggling of two fingers.

Fuck.

You quickly rise to your feet, casting a brief glance at Ren, who looks slightly pale.

With a knot tightening in your stomach, you move toward the throne. Sayuri meets you halfway, pressing the ceramic bottle she’s been carrying firmly against your sternum. In the dim light, you see blood clinging to her kimono. You take the bottle in your gloved hands and peer inside—sake.

Sayuri releases her grip, her delicate fingers brushing against yours before she gives you a look and moves past you.

You grip the bottle tightly as you approach the base of the dais. From your vantage point, you scan the remaining crowd. Only a few people are left, and their offerings are meagre. Not that it matters.

Among the items are a basket of tallow candles, a collection of handmade vases, a crude polearm, and a broken clay pot filled with a cluster of eggplants.

Looks grim.

Your gaze shifts back to Sukuna, who is assessing the items brought by the dark-haired man.

“My Lord, I hope you will accept this offering,” the man says, opening one of the sacks. “I understand you have your own stable, and this barley—” he gestures to the bags—“will provide excellent nourishment for your mounts.”

Sukuna scrutinizes him for an uncomfortably long period, smacking his lips together, which only increases the man’s nervousness.

“No,” Sukuna replies flatly.

The grip you have on the ceramic bottle tightens as you exhale.

Sukuna’s lower eyes flicker briefly in your direction before returning to the man.

“I assume you breed horses?” he inquires.

“Y-yes, my Lord, that’s correct,” the man stammers, gripping the sacks tightly as if they are the only thing capable of holding him upright.

Sukuna rests his face against his fist, his expression unreadable.

“Then why didn’t you present me with a horse?”

“Apologies, m-my Lord.” You are certain he just pissed himself. “I assumed that my native-bred horses wouldn’t be able to carry someone of your stature, and I didn’t want to waste your time.”

“Didn’t want to waste my time?” Sukuna scoffs and leans forward. The curve of his mouth turns rigid. “That’s amusing.” He extends his upper right hand. Sensing the threat, the man desperately drops to his knees, lowering his head to the floor.

“P-please, my Lord!” he begs, voice quivering beneath piercing red eyes. “I have a family—two children, and another on the way. Please, have mercy.”

“Lift your worthless head and look at me!” Sukuna demands.

Your stomach plummets to your feet.

The man raises his head.

“Your village, it’s a day’s ride north along the river, is it not?” Sukuna inquires.

The man’s lip trembles.

“Y-yes.”

Sukuna drums his fingers thoughtfully, then stops.

“Get out,” he says apathetically, flicking his wrist.

“My Lord?” The man hesitates.

“Did you not fucking hear me? Get out before I change my mind.”

To your relief, the man scrambles up to shaky feet to ensure his own safety. He abandons the cart and hurries out of the room. Meanwhile, several attendants quickly move to collect the abandoned items.

Sukuna huffs and extends his left arm toward you.

“Come here,” he commands, gesturing arrogantly without looking directly at you.

You approach the raised dais and stand before him, cradling the ceramic bottle in the crook of your arm.

“Closer.” His voice drops.

You take a step up, drawing nearer to the throne.

“Closer,” he repeats, spreading his enormous legs and gesturing for you to stand between them.

You glance from the spot he indicates then to his face. His raised eyebrow challenges you, questioning whether you will obey.

You close the distance, positioning yourself where he wants you. Skin flushing, you are aware that every eye in the room is focused on this unfolding interaction.

Sukuna leans forward, consuming your space.

“Hello, my dear,” he mocks, voice a deep whisper so only you can hear.

He lifts a hand to push back your hair, revealing your neck. He examines the bite mark he made and then presses his thumb against it.

“I haven’t heard you screaming in your sleep these past five nights.” His breath stirs your hair as he leans closer, thumb tracing the scar. “I’m curious. What have you been up to in your room?”

Touching myself while thinking of you.

“Nothing that concerns you, my Lord,” you utter softly.

Your free hand at your side flexes and curls into a fist as you imagine him touching you again, while your other hand grips the bottle as if it were a lifeline.

Sukuna’s lip curls into a grin. He leans back in his seat, four eyes roving over your body in a way that makes you uneasy.

“How fascinating that little stunt was earlier. Quite the impulsive move,” he smirks. “I can only imagine how pleased your father would be to see his daughter presenting herself to me like this.” He gestures at your kimono, chuckling derisively.

At the mention of your father, your lips press into a thin line. You don’t correct his choice of words, but you suspect that Sukuna is ridiculing you nonetheless.

You remain silent.

“Did you not receive my gifts this morning?” he asks, annoyed, as he reaches over the armrest with his upper left hand to retrieve a ceramic cup.

You struggle to keep your expression neutral.

“I did receive them, my Lord. Thank you. They are truly beautiful pieces.” You cast a quick glance at his upper right hand before meeting his gaze again. "However, I’m puzzled as to why you would send them because after our last encounter, you seemed intent on killing me," you say through clenched teeth.

All four of his arms tense, and a muscle in his jaw twitches.

“Beautiful,” Sukuna repeats, ignoring your comment about his actions. “You call them beautiful, yet you chose to wear this... frivolous thing?”

You don’t answer.

He leans in closer.

His upper right hand slips to your waist, fingers spreading out, palm flat, moving back and forth. Feeling the texture of your kimono, your body beneath it.

The warmth of his palm, his hand, pulls at the memory of him rubbing it against your wet cunt.

Don’t.

“Why do you keep hiding from me?” He tilts his head. “Now you are hiding behind this garment. It doesn’t do you any favours.”

“You act like you know me so well when you don’t know me at all,” you snap.

Sukuna clicks his tongue.

Without warning, his lower hands drag you closer. You have to place your knee on the edge of the throne seat, directly in front of his groin, to steady yourself. The bottle of sake sloshes with the sudden movement.

“And what if I want that?” his voice is calm, but his face is stern.

“Want what?” you grind out.

He keeps looking at your confused stare.

“To know you.”

What?

His hands move to the small of your back, making you freeze.

You study his face, shifting your gaze from his nose to his mask, to his mouth, to his eyes.

“‘Wife in name only,’” you repeat the words he used the day you met. “I prefer to keep things that way. In name only.”

Sukuna smirks.

With his lower hands still on your back, he raises the ceramic cup with his upper left hand, nodding toward it twice in a slow, deliberate gesture.

You pull the bottle from where you are cradling it and pour its rich, floral scent into his cup.

“It didn’t seem like you wanted things to remain ‘in name only’ five nights ago,” Sukuna taunts, lifting the cup higher, forcing you to follow his movements.

Asshole.

You grit your teeth at his action, your eyes touching his challenging gaze.

“Nothing happened five nights ago,” you insist, trying to maintain a consistent pour as he raises the cup further out of reach.

You find yourself standing on your toes, struggling to keep the sake flowing steadily.

“You are a fool if you pretend nothing happened,” he sneers. “Besides, I helped you. Even now, with my hands on you, you are much more composed than before, when you would have been sniveling like a pathetic little girl.”

The cup overflows, and you quickly pull the bottle away to prevent the sake from spilling everywhere.

“Fuck you and your sanctimonious bullshit,” you hiss. “You have done nothing to help me. If anything, you have made everything far worse!”

Your words seem to echo in the space.

Sukuna’s eyes flare with a mix of anger, but there’s an undercurrent of amusement.

“See, there you are.”

Your gloved hands grip the ceramic bottle so tightly that you fear it might shatter. This relentless game of his, trying to unravel your character, is becoming tiresome.

A deep inhale.

“You know, my Lord, one day, when you are dead and rotting in the ground, and I’m still here—” His eyes narrow slightly as if straining to catch something just out of reach—“I will cherish every memory of these—”

“Die, you fucking demon!”

The sudden proclamation from behind has you snapping your head over your shoulder.

Grab, grab, grab, grab. Four hands snatch you. A violent yank and the sensation of weightlessness overtakes your body.

Sukuna maneuvers you. His sinuous motions a blur.

He swaps positions with you so abruptly that you lose your grip on the ceramic bottle. It slips, falls, then smashes on the dais, shards scattering.

You crash into the throne seat, face slamming into the wood with a crunch that makes you cry out.

A sharp, wet squelch erupts behind you, followed by a warm spray of liquid hitting your back.

To your left, one of your attendants—perhaps Sayuri—lets out a pained exhale.

You jerk your head around.

Sukuna’s massive back faces you.

The crude polearm you noticed earlier juts through the left side of his chest, piercing both flesh and kimono until it protrudes out of his body. Blood soaks his garment, spilling onto the floor.

Whoever threw it clearly intended to kill him, even if it meant killing you in the process.

Sukuna remains still, his breathing halted.

Your body trembles.

Your mind races.

He protected you.

No.

This could be the end for him.

You hold your breath, waiting for him to collapse and die. Time seems to stretch as his blood continues to pool on the floor.

A twitch of his upper right hand, a twitch of all four hands.

Sukuna’s head twists, and he glances over his shoulder, taking you in.

The anger in his eyes, the energy radiating from him, scrapes across you.

You shudder.

Turning back, his four arms stretch out to grasp the weapon. He reels the polearm out of his flesh with three sharp, jerky pulls before casting it aside.

You lift your head to observe him.

Where he was impaled, there should be a wound, but there is none—he’s healed himself already.

No…

He takes one step forward.

The room itself, all at once, seems to rearrange for him.

It falls into an unsettling silence as Sukuna steps down from the dais and advances toward the culprit, who, despite his efforts to stand firm, retreats, stumbling over himself.

With a dismissive scoff, the King of Curses casually swipes the air once, decapitating the man with ease.

Chaos erupts in the next few moments.

The remaining individuals, all innocent, lose their heads as well. The offerings they had clung to so desperately fall from limp hands and tumble across the floor.

Everything draws into silence once again.

The only sound you hear is your own small, shallow breathing.

Sukuna turns. In three strides, he's before you.

He grips your neck, roughly wrenching you off the throne, forcing you to stumble to your feet.

Gloved hands move to grasp the grip, clutching at your throat, and you look up to give him a long, searching look.

His eyes swim, bright and hot, with fury.

The very air, it seems, burns.

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” he snarls into your face. “You are a fucking nuisance. A distraction.”

Distraction.

That’s exactly what you have been trying to achieve: to distract him. But not like this. This was not your fault.

Eyes darkening to ash, brows knitting, you shake your head.

“You will do nothing.” Is all you say.

His brow creases at your audacity.

Everything fades as he presses in, his face before yours. Breath close. The details of his mask—the contours and grooves—all sharp details you can memorize.

An ache blossoms along your neck as he digs his thumb in.

“It would be so easy to break you right—”

“Master.” Uraume's voice rings out louder than you have heard before.

His gaze falls on them.

Your gloved fingertips press into his wrist as if that can save you.

A heartbeat later, he releases you, and your hands lower away from him.

A raspy exhale leaves Sukuna’s throat as he pushes back his dishevelled pink hair.

He turns to Uraume, expression once again unreadable.

"Come.”

He strides toward the double-leaf doors at the end of the central hall, navigating the bodies rising from the floor. Uraume follows without hesitation.

As the King of Curses walks away, you can't help but focus on his back—the tear in his kimono and the fraying fabric. The wound that was there and also meant for you, distant and gone.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 11

#sukuna true form #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jjk fanfic #sukuna smut #sukuna fanfic #ryomen sukuna #beneath the silk #dark content #dark fantasy #slow burn #enemies to lovers

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