#had to pause it for now because i realized i am simply too tired to process banana

[mental69er]

I have a Victoria Neuman request where Victoria is only using the reader at first due to the reader's father being a really influential figure especially in politics so dating the reader would give her access to more connections but overtime Victoria realizes that she's in love with the reader and fully comes to the realization while they're having sex.

content: victoria using reader for personal gain, nb reader, a touch of angst, victoria accidentally falling in love and not knowing how to deal with it

As your body writhed under hers, hot skin pressed into her center, Victoria was struck by a sudden realization that paused her.

She stared down at you, puzzeling over your face as it contorted with rising pleeasure. Frozen under the weight of her thoughts, she sat straddeling your lap, taking you in.

Seeing you for the first time.

When had it changed? When had she come to see this more than just free sex? When had she come to care about you?

It started out simply, as most things did. Victoria needed more political influence, and who better to gain that influence with than by dating you? She had done as much work as she could on her end, but she was missing a crucial key to gaining more power.

But she didn't want to be on her knees for some elderly old man. No, if she had to be on her knees for anyone she rathered it be someone young, and attractive.

The fact that you were naive was only an added bonus.

Seducing you into experimenting with the fairer sex was all too easy. A few carefully crafted situations, with some choice words, and you were wrapped around her finger.

Dating you was a bit harder, if only because she had to keep up the charade: pretending to care for you while subtly using you to get your father to chance his perspective on bills in congress that she needed passed.

And it had worked like a charm.

Victoria had got what she wanted. She was going to break up with you. It was the sensible thing to do since she no longer needed your father's influence, able to do what she wanted now.

She told herself she would wait a few weeks to not make it suspicious, then make up some excuse that she could no longer date you because of a conflict of interest.

You surely wouldn't be happy but she wouldn't care, is what she told herself. And now here she was, in bed with you once more.

"Are you okay?" you asked her, voice husky with lust. You sat up, running a hand down her face.

Victoria jerked herself to, not realizing that she had been frozen for a while now. "I'm fine," she answered, though she did not feel fine. There was a tenderness in her heart, that hadn't been before. And she hated how she had noticed it.

"You don't look fine. Did I do something?" you asked and she chuckled, trying to shake off the realization she had come to. While you'd been spread out under her, your skin soft and flushed, your mouth breathing out her name, she'd known she'd fallen in love with you.

She didn't know when it had happened. In between all the dates at expensive restaurants, between glasses of wine, laughing at incompetent politics, or in the soft quiet moments as you lay by each others side?

She had been focused on her career, and on using you to further it. How could she have fallen for you?

This wasn't supposed to be the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen. This changed everything.

You wiped at her eyes. "You're crying."

"Am I?" she asked, in disbelief. She was torn between laughing and lamenting her fate. How cruel for her to be ensnared like this. When had you enchanted her? Was it with your smile? With your unflinching kindness?

"Was it work?" you asked, pure concern in your eyes.

She shook her head.

"I'm tired, I think." Victoria knew it was the easy way out, but she didn't feel like speaking about this with you.

"I'll make you something warm to drink," you told her and slipped out of the bed, grabbing a robe as you went. She watched you going, biting down on her bottom lip.

She was screwed, wasn't she?

She had too many enemies to make it a smart idea to fall for you. But she had fallen in love regardless and now she would have to account for that. In the meantime, she should enjoy her time with you and unpack her feelings in the morning. She rose up and grabbed her robe before joining you in the kitchen.

[electric-plants]

this tonal shift is crazy btw💀💀

[minisugakoobies]

WIP Tag Game

rules: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips

Thank you for the tags @theharrowing & @star-my! 💕

Tagging: @kiestrokes @chans-room @bangtanintotheroom @augustbutwinter @thatlongspringnight @sowoozoo-7 @vyduan apologies if you've already been tagged, no pressure to play! 💜

I've been in a writing slump lately - I have a million WIPs in progress but am unable to find the motivation or concentration to finish any. So if any of these sound interesting, please let me know - your excitement is what keeps me going! 💕💕💕

There’s some smut in some of these snippets, so I’ll put those under a cut.

3 WIPs:

The Rules:

“And after that, we were banned from ever visiting Ikea again,” Chan finishes, a crooked grin crossing his face as he waits for your reaction. “That is… the greatest story I’ve ever heard,” you inform him. “Thank you, just, so much, for that.”  Chan nods, leaning back against the vinyl of the booth seat. “Now, you’re not gonna run off and snitch to Changbin, are you? Tell him I’ve divulged all his dirty secrets?”  You press your hand to your chest, looking scandalized. “Absolutely not! I would never. Everything you’ve told me stays with me.” You pause. “Until I need it.”  “Fair.” His grin returns, cheekier than ever. “If you’re gonna use it for blackmail, I will be expecting a cut. Just to warn ya.”  A server stops by your table to grab your empty glasses and drop off the check. It feels like the perfect opportunity to bring the night to a close - thank Chan for the drinks, since he didn’t even attempt to argue with you about paying, simply dropped his card on the tray, thank him for the gossip, and bid him a good evening.  But no. You’re you, and so instead of saying “Thank you” or “Good night,” you say, “I think we could come to an arrangement.”  Chan tilts his head, eyes roaming from your smiling lips down to your goose-dimpled thighs and back, and you realize you may have miscalculated a bit. Because the sweet expression on his face has vanished, replaced by a look of hunger so ravenous, your pulse quickens - the primal reaction of prey realizing it’s exactly where a hunter wants it.  “Could we now?” He shifts slightly, the arm around your shoulders falling between you as he signs the receipt. He taps the pen on the table. “I like the sound of that.”  You do too, which is why there are klaxons suddenly blaring in your head. You should really leave. Instead of sliding further into the corner of the booth as Chan casually leans forward, blocking your view of the rest of the bar.  That’s when the hand that was at Chan’s side creeps its way onto your exposed thigh.

Untitled Vamp!Jimin sequel (to Claim):

Jimin lets out a loud laugh. “Damn, you are beyond drunk. Come on, let’s get you ready for bed, you lush.”  Fine, maybe you are drunk. Tonight had been a bit of a special occasion. Tonight, your boyfriend finally introduced you to the rest of his coven. To the vamps who had basically raised him from a feral fledgling to be the incredible undead man he is today. Since you are wildly, hopelessly, head over heels in love with Jimin, you’d been nervous as hell to meet all of his friends. You wanted them to approve of you and Jimin’s relationship. To approve of you. Which meant you’d gone a little heavy on the wine tonight.  In the end, you’d had nothing to fear. Jimin’s friends loved you, and the feeling had been more than mutual. So the drinking turned from anxious to celebratory. Leaving you now stumbling around your boyfriend’s bedroom as he tries to shepherd you towards the closet, where your pajamas (an old t-shirt of his) await.  But you’re not ready for bed. At least, not for sleep. Immediately, your petulant side makes itself known as you drop onto his bed with a pout. “Don’t wanna sleep. Not tired.”  Jimin stops at the end of the bed, reaching for you. His hands are ice, like always, but they feel good laced between your warm fingers. “Didn’t say anything about sleep, now did I?” You try to resist his tugging, try to pull him onto the bed with you. It’s futile. All he has to do is engage a tenth of his vamp strength and you’re on your feet. You squeak in delight.  “I love it when you do that!”  His grin blinds you from this close as he wraps his arms around you. “When I do what?”  “Use your vamp strength and toss me around like a ragdoll.” You sigh happily, beaming as he rubs his nose against yours.  “Like a ragdoll, hmm?” Eyebrow cocked, he spins you around, aiming you towards the closet. “Got it. Now strip it down for me.” 

Untitled YoonMinKook x Reader fic:

As soon as the door is closed, Jungkook’s kissing you, walking you backwards towards his couch. There are no words spoken when he pulls you into his lap, peeling your shirt off so he can run his mouth along the swell of your breasts where they spill over the cups of your bra. Nor are there any when his hand slips down your pants and yours slips down his. It isn’t until he’s got you naked on his bed, thighs wrapped around his ears as his mouth hovers over your cunt, that he finally breaks the silence. “Thank you,” he sighs happily, warm breath dancing across your skin.  The pillows under your head and shoulders give you the perfect view of his face as he peers up at you. “You’re thanking me? For this?” Shouldn’t you be thanking him? “Yeah. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was afraid you were gonna say no.” He grins, a bashful smile more befitting someone who isn’t currently nestled between your legs. His nose crinkles, and you sigh.  You’ve always loved the delicate little slope of his nose. Now, with him nuzzling right into your sensitive nub, you wonder if he’d let you ride it. It looks perfect for riding. “I mean… after the other day, at the cabin…” you trail off when he kisses your inner thigh, lips lightly fluttering there. “You know, I didn’t know you were into guys.” He stops long enough to laugh. “”M not into guys or girls. I’m into people.” His hand gently squeezes your ass as his eyebrows wiggle. “All genders are welcome to flatten me with their thick thighs. I’m an equal opportunity pancake.”  You laugh, which quickly turns into a whimper as he licks along your slit. “Are you saying I have thick thighs?”  “Your thighs are perfect,” he murmurs, breathing into your clit, fingers gripping your plump skin as you unconsciously try to squirm away from the ticklish sensation. He keeps you locked in place, not just with his hands, but with the look he gives you. It tells you to stay still, so you do.  “I’ve never flattened anyone with them, though.”  He smirks, smugness dripping from his voice. “That’s because you’ve never let me do this before.”

3 Published:

Into The Rush:

Seokjin’s gaze bounces between the two of you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”  Taehyung sees you nibbling on your bottom lip and he turns to his brother. “I can explain. Buttercup here-” “Buttercup can speak for herself,” you interject, “and don’t call me that.” With a sigh, you slug back another shot of soju and look at Seokjin. He’s waiting patiently to hear what you have to say. “I was… kinda seeing someone a few months ago. And I thought that I had something with them, and it turned out that I was wrong. They didn’t feel the same way I did, so…” You trail off, not sure how to say ‘so I spent the last few months crying in my room over a broken heart.’ Luckily, Seokjin spares you this confession, nodding sympathetically. “I gotcha,” he says simply, and you nod back, stuffing some rice into your mouth so you don’t cry at the warmth in his expression.  “I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic about who it was,” Taehyung frowns. “She’s talking about Yoongi.” Something passes over Seokjin’s face quickly, so fast you almost miss it as you smack your roommate on his arm. He yelps in shock. “What? He was going to find out eventually, they’re best friends!” 

Versus:

You tug against the restraints, testing their give. There is none.  “Finally, our little dance comes to an end, pretty bird,” Yoongi coos, twirling his dagger, the light from the lamp swinging overhead reflecting off the long blade. “Does that make you sad?” “You make me sad,” you hiss. “You’re pathetic.”  He’s annoying the fuck out of you right now, as usual, refusing to shut up long enough to let you figure out what’s going on with your powers. Again you try to access them and fail.  This isn’t the time to panic. You need to get free. Guess you’ll have to do this the hard way. Yoongi’s gaze rakes over you slowly as you hang helplessly against the wall. Ignoring the sudden stirring in your gut, you pull on the ropes. There. Your left hand. If you can just twist a little more…. Yoongi presses his blade against your throat. The cold metal bites into your skin as his other hand grips your shoulder, and you freeze, going completely still beneath his touch. “What was that, pretty bird?” he asks, cat-like eyes targeted on your lips. “Say that again.” 

Paradise:

Ding! The elevator doors swept open, and you entered, pressing the button for the first floor. “Hold it!” a voice called out as a tall figure jogged into view. You held out your arm, keeping the doors open as your neighbor, Jeon Jungkook, stepped inside. Jungkook nodded appreciatively at you as the doors slid shut. He leaned against the wall, eyes closing as music drifted from the earbuds tucked into his ears. His long black hair fell haphazardly into his face, obscuring his eyes and skimming his cheekbones. He wore his usual oversized hoodie and sweatpants, all black, of course. As far as you were aware, he didn’t own any clothing in any other shade. You let your head rest against the wall as you surreptitiously peered at your neighbor, thinking about just how little you really knew about the man. Two years of living next door to him, and he remained a complete mystery to you. Other than the occasional run-in, you rarely saw Jungkook. You had no idea what he did for a living or how he spent his time, other than the fact that he never seemed to be awake before noon. (The wall between your apartments was woefully thin, enough that you’d gotten to know the shrill bleating of his alarm all too well.) You supposed that you could take the initiative to learn more about him. Maybe try to engage him in conversation beyond the occasional “hey.” But Jungkook didn’t make it easy, the way he’d run back to his apartment anytime you saw him in the hallway, his big brown eyes widening like a startled deer trapped in headlights whenever he was caught off guard by your presence. At least he wasn’t rude. You’d had your share of asshole neighbors. He was nowhere near that list. He just seemed reserved. Maybe even a little shy, given his tendency to dash off like a frightened rabbit. Sometimes, when you’d say hello, his nose would scrunch up and his eyes would squeeze shut as his perfectly pouty lips pulled back to reveal a sweet smile that made your heart flip. The first time he’d grinned like that, you’d been completely disarmed, not expecting this hulking figure in black to transform into a cute little bunny. (You weren’t sure why you automatically thought of innocent woodland creatures when daydreaming about your neighbor’s fine features, but here you were.)

[judas-is-so-so-silly]

jude.. could i get a short prompt for a lactose intolerant reader and primo, because i made bad choices and am now suffering 🫶 ily

Yes sir I'm also lactose intolerant and this sounds so cute

Literally the fluffiest shit I've ever written under the cut

Mentions of being in the bathroom and tummy troubles ofc. Also reader is described as a dude

Primo loved children and had made it a point to always have at least a handful of candy for little ones around the Ministry, he would call children to him and place one in their palm and curl their fingers around it like it was a treasure to be protected. The smiles that would spread across their chubby faces warmed his heart, he even used his little candies to flirt on special occasions.

He remembered seeing you waltz through the Ministry doors like it was yesterday and of course he was caught in a predicament. He had knelt down to gift one of his candies to a little boy who had been crying and when he tottled off, Primo was very much stuck on his knees. He groaned and grunted as he tried to force his feet under him and from across the foyer you saw him and immediately your heart was racing. He was adorable, trying so hard to be strong when he obviously needed help. You realized you were staring at the poor old man who needed help, and that staring was doing nothing.

"Papa! Let me help you!" A sweet voice echoed across the marble, Primo looked up to see a young man rushing to his side. The old man chuckled and offered his hand,

"Grazie, fratellino." He grunted as you pulled him up, his hand was warm and calloused against your own. When Primos eyes met yours he was spellbound as he simply offered you a small candy;

He's remained spellbound, even now as you whine to him through the bathroom door about your tummy issues. His smile remains as he hums back to you,

"Mio fiore, you will be fine. Maybe you should not eat the cheesecake next time you are offered, though." Your groan tugged at his heart strings as much as it made him laugh, he knew you were in pain but satanas you somehow remained to be adorable.

"But it's so good, I even took my meds!" Ah yes, your little pills. When you mentioned how milk caused you so much anguish he began carrying them around too, he would always offer them when he saw something with dairy on your plate. You found it sweet, how he made sure you felt your best.

"I know, fiore, I know, but you know I dont like seeing," he paused, remembering how you made a beeline to your shared cottage only a couple minutes after destroying 3 entire slices of the dessert. He chuckled, "well, hearing you like this."

You chuckled back, finally starting to feel the pains melt away. "I'll consider it, is that good enough?"

"For now, I'll take it." The sound of you shuffling around quickly followed by the door swinging open and you falling into your Papas arms. He noticed your tired smile as he held you, his hand slid into your hair as he kissed your forehead.

"Thank you, Papa."

"Hm. None of that," Primo slid his hand down to your chin and tilted your face up to meet his gaze before kissing you so gently you barely felt it. You couldn't keep the whine in when he pulled away, but his mismatched eyes were so full of adoration words escaped you. "To you, mio fiore, I am Primo. And only Primo." You scoffed,

"Even when you ask me to call you Papa, when you look all sexy and mean?" You smirk up at him and he considers you for a moment before scoffing back at you,

"Maybe just then."

[knowltonsrangers]

If the ask box is still open, would “Asking them about their day with Robert Townsend be possible? If not, that’s totally okay. Thank you regardless!!

Asking them about their day.

TURN!Robert Townsend x reader

[a/n: of course you can! thanks for requesting, enjoy! ♥️]

Robert paused, head pulling from his book that sat in his lap as he realized just how quiet it was. Lingering silence usually meant that you were up to no good, and he didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last seen, or heard from you.

Thinking back is the least of his troubles, as he closes his book over and sets it on the table in front of him. The echo of nothing carries throughout the hallways, and as he turns the bedroom knob, he’s surprised to find you not there.

Instead, he finds you in the office, nose in a book yourself. The door was ajar, so you know he’s standing in the doorway when the hinges creak.

“You alright, Robbie?”

You ask, finger marking the page as you meet his gaze.

“I didn’t know where you were,”

When you had both returned home, you simply had exchanged exhausted ‘hellos’ before retreating away from each other. While the alone time Robert appreciated, he never wished to be away from you for that long.

“Meh, I saw you reading, thought with some downtime I could put a dent in this one myself.”

You haphazardly hold up your book, and watch as Robert raises an eyebrow.

“You are truly one of a kind, aren’t you?”

He asks, and your head tilts, mouth open to question just what he meant by that, when he comes further into the room to lean back on the wall, across from you.

“How was your day?”

Robert crosses his arms, and you know he’s attempting to solve something in his head. You weren’t plotting anything, no, least not this time, and you can practically watch the gears turning in his head.

“It was fine. I’m happy it’s Friday. I was just tired, I thought you were too. That’s why I left you alone.”

He makes a humming noise, as if to agree to something, when you continue.

“And how was yours?”

“Great. Perfectly fine.”

“What did I do now, Robbie?”

“What? Nothing. I didn’t say that you did.”

“I can feel your scrutinizing stare from all the way over here.”

In reality, he was being so much less scrutinizing than he typically is. He just wanted to make sure you were alright, since you were acting a little off.

To him, he’d take notice of the smallest thing wrong, because proven true, he could read you like an open book.

“No, I am just making sure you are okay,”

You shoulders sag, he wasn’t being sarcastic, he was being observant, and it made your head a little dizzy.

“Not that I am complaining, but normally you and I…spend some time together, after work.”

He says it like it’s painful, yet you can tell just how much pout is hidden behind those strained words.

He was genuinely concerned that you hadn’t come to “bother” him.

“Oh, haha–“

You snort, standing and tossing the book on the side table next to you.

“You’re trying to figure out why I didn’t come harass you?”

“So it would seem.”

There’s a passing moment of silence, and you watch as he attempts to stand his ground, but he’s failing, terribly.

“Aw, alright, c’mon Robbie, I’ll come bother you.”

The man makes no effort to object, allowing you to take his arm and drag him down the hall.

Little things, like this, is what makes him twitch that tiny smile of his onto his face.

[abronzeagegod]

You stand at the stage in front of the gods. You pace for a second to find the best spot to stand to address the crowd.

"What do we mean by catastrophic?" you ask. "Everyone immediately thinks of widespread and sudden disaster, a calamity that effects a wide swathe of land and people."

You pace a bit more. You're nervous because everything hinges on this moment. You need the gods in rapt attention, all of them, or it isn't going to work.

"I think we need to shift our focus off of that definition. If for a moment you will follow me. Because I think we need to look more at the other definition. That of a final event, a dramatic conclusion."

They're listening bu they're not really engaged yet. Time for audience participation.

"As Lord Poseidon demonstrated, if we simply kill enough mortals, reap and take their souls from their unwilling bodies that counts towards our totals. And our Sea God currently holds the record." You pause for some polite applause for the current record holder. "A record I plan to beat so thoroughly that we shall never hold this contest again."

You can feel the attentions turning towards you, now no one knows what you're planning but they're curious. Good.

"And as Lady Aphrodite displayed in her amazing attempt last year, if enough people pledge their souls to you, that also counts. And I don't think anyone regretted the orgy." Pause for laughter.

"Now, if you'll indulge me just a little bit, I shall get on with my attempt."

The anticipation is definitely growing. You can feel it.

You turn from the gods and look down the mountain towards the realm of mortals.

"Mortals!" you call out across the entire world. "Hear me now! I have felt you pain and understood. You grow tired of these contests of gods, these trials that cost you your lives, your homes, and your loved ones. I make a solemn vow to you, that if you give me your pain, your grief, this will end. For good."

You turn back to the gods, the rage and pain starting to channel through you and you can feel it radiating outward.

"Ha!" Zeus laughs. "Good one, but that's not going to work. We're just going to stop this now."

The Olympians advance on you, but not before you point out the score. You already have 100,000 souls pledge and the number is growing rapidly.

"Still not enough!" Poseidon yells in triumph.

You dodge a couple of angry Olympians that try to stop you from ruining their blood games.

"I am still owed my turn!" you shout.

"You're what?" Zeus asks.

"My turn, that was just the preamble, the prologue. I owe you a catastrophic event," you say.

Zeus rolls his eyes and waves a hand. "Get on with it and then get out."

You stand at the stage once again, watching the total souls tick up higher and higher. You're above 700,000 now. So close.

Poseidon is getting nervous now, you're close to breaking his record and you haven't even done anything yet.

"On behalf of every single soul, every sibling, parent, child, and friend who has lost someone to these games, on everyone's grief and sorrow and lost, I present to you, O Gods of Olympus a catastrophic event unlike any that shall come after."

The sky darkened and the gods got excited. Your calamity was coming. Everyone was looking at you now, so no one noticed that the total souls you had claimed was over Poseidon's total and still climbing.

"This is the calamity of humanity's grief," you say quietly as the the top of Mount Olympus was engulfed in flames and shadow. "This is the death of the gods."

Shadows choke and close the entryways, trapping everyone on the mountain. Fire rains down from the skies and the rocks under foot crack and shatter. By the time the gods realize what is happening it is too late. You delayed just long enough, and you had the power of every single human who had lost something in the destructive games of the gods. There was not one person who hadn't lost something to the Olympian bloodlust.

You watch some of the smaller gods around you die among the coming flames. And your total only grows. It grows as the gods died and you claimed their souls, and the souls owed to them. Their totals become your totals.

Zeus advances on you, lightning burning and thunder crashing.

"You'll pay for this!" he bellows.

"You don't understand," you tell him quietly, no longer resisting. With each god's death around you, you grow stronger and stronger. "There is no escaping this. Not for you. Not for me."

"No... you can't possibly."

"This is the catastrophic death of all gods, the end of an era, the end of us all. Tragic, isn't it?" you ask as the Thunder Lord dies and the God of Sorrow follows just after.

if you liked this read some more or buy me a kofi if you'd like

Every 1000 years all of the Gods get together for a contest to see who can collect the most souls with a single catastrophic event. Last time Poseidon broke the 1M mark with a Tsunami/earthquake combo. You’re up.

[pyotan]

It's Only a Matter of Time

There is nothing better to do than to get this talk over with and really, Kjat still has not a clue as to what she wants to say to the guy because unlike Kham, she’s not approaching him out of personal concern. Rather it’s..

well..

complicated.

Kjat has always seen Kham as a child, someone who had been in need of some sort of guidance and care. But for so long, she wasn’t going to be the one to do it. She didn’t care that much at the start of noticing Kham but years have passed since that day, whenever is was, and now Kjat finds herself caring /too/ much.

She does truly wish that she didn’t care.

But she does! And so much so that she finds herself approaching the door of Menyou yet again.. it having been perhaps an hour, now, since her first attempt.

Two strong knocks then a pause.. then a repeat..

It’s in the midst of that second pause that Menyou comes to the door and in Kjat’s opinion, he still looks like shit but at least he’s fixed his hair into a lazy braid.

“Hello again, Miss Kjat..”

“Hello, Snake.”

A blink of golden limbals.

“Snake..?”

She merely looks up to him with her ever tired expression and allows silence to fall over them.. and while not for her, it feels awkward for Menyou certainly.. and so much so that he lifts a hand to begin strokes at his braid but.. he quickly, instead, brings his touch to just further open up the door to his home and steps to the side..

“Well, my place is a mess but if you wish to come in..”

“No. This won’t be long.”

Kjat then looks around to ensure that no one is around.. she’d perfectly planned this to be in a time where none of the keepers are awake for those kittens never fail to eavesdrop when conscious for it.. as if drawn to private conversation like it were cat nip or something. Menyou, meanwhile, looks around with her for just a brief moment.. the nerves of this interaction just building up higher and higher for him.. it certainly doesn’t help that hes still in the effects of a spring chill as well..

Satisfied that they are absolutely alone in these halls, she looks back up to Menyou.. and he to her..

“Kham is delicate.”

the very mention of that xaela has Menyou loosening up in his awkward stand at the door.. he having been squeezing at the knob this whole time, he finally is able to drop his hand and just.. listen without feeling a need to stand to attention.

“Yes..”

Menyou softly agrees..

“She is like glass. She can take a few cracks, of course, for she is strong but one bad fall and she can be broken.”

“Mmh..?”

simply a hum to encourage her to continue for he’s not sure he’s following..

“I worry that you could be a bad fall. You can take offense if you want, but I do not trust you. I don’t like people and so I don’t like you right away. I think Kham will break because of you.”

And this.. is a slap of reality that Kjat does not realize she’s inflicted. It stings because he feels that she is right, that he will be the one to bring her to pieces. It’s just.. he’s not sure /how/ he will.

Will it be the truth of Ramm?

Will it be what he’s done to Naoh?

Will it be what he does now for a living?

Or will it be something between them? Will he hurt her with a misunderstanding to a point of shatter? Will he just one day be unbearable to her..?

Menyou says nothing to Kjat.. and his silence is plenty to her.

The older woman scoffs.

“I will be there when that time comes.”

“If I may.. It’s not like I am intending on harming her. Rather, it’s matters of my past that I am not sure she will handle the best..”

“You have no trust in her to stay. Already proof that you will not last.”

Menyou knows it’s wrong to try to defend himself for in a way, perhaps she’s right. But.. it’s not because Kham is Kham for he feels this with anyone.

Any person would want to end relations once they’ve heard about how he’d preserved a soul of hate for moons and moons until finding a gullible victim to become the host for said soul.. and to add some detail to such reality, the victims of his doings are all related to her in some important way.

Menyou has hurt her friends and abandoned the soul as well, now.. how could she still trust him? Still love him?

“Then.. be there for her but I will not be leaving her side.”

Kjat huffs..

“I will not allow the one who breaks her to crumble her more—”

“I will not be leaving her side.”

Kjat’s hands tighten into fists.. she’s attempting to withhold the protective anger she feels within herself.. over Kham, over this man before her.

For how /dare/ he insist to still be around when he cannot seem to trust her enough to stay.. Kham deserves better.

But also..

Kham deserves to have someone who is insistent at staying with her.

And Kham deserves to have the experience she wants with anyone she chooses, even if it ends in a tragic mess.

This is not her child nor are they even close enough to be friends so.. she loosens up.. decides that shes kept his attention long enough; she’s done enough.

“Good. While I expect you to not stay to your words, I will hope to be wrong about you.”

“While I hope it does not come to a point of break like you believe, you will see that nothing can keep me from her side.”

“Yes, well. That is what I hope for too. Anyways.. Back to your day, Snake. I have kept you long enough.”

Menyou does not like how things are ending but.. he’s not sure what more he can say or do to assure her otherwise and, well.. he’s now having a think over if he should really tell her soon or continue in this dream where their past is simply the past and the now is perfect because they have each other..

“..Thank you for being there for her, Miss Kjat.”

For he is grateful that there are people that Kham can turn to.. that there is another soul that seems to know of Kham’s hidden truth.. she deserves to feel safe, to have support..

Kjat takes a quite departure, saying nothing to his appreciation and simply ending things.. and he allows that for there is nothing more to say.

Not now, anyways.

And as he shuts the door.. Menyou finds himself stilled and troubled.. restless all over again..

he looks over to his heap of studies, organized by none other than his girlfriend and he.. can only feel all the more will to go back into his work because.. if there is a timer between them then he wants to make the best of it, he wants to help her have a life she’s always wanted, to be herself fully and with no shame..

“There’s no time to waste, then..”

[casspurrjoybell-24]

The Alpha's Boy - Chapter 28 - Part 1

Book Two In : The Alpha's Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Alistair 'Star' Claymore-Phoenix

Not a lot of people get to remember saying their first words to their parents but a lot of people haven't been mute basically their whole lives.

There was a collective silence around the room when I spoke until Darren walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my head, kissing the top of it in the way only my dad could.

I felt a bit odd, I didn't want the attention but at the same time, I welcomed it with open arms because I'd never get a moment like this again.

We were now sat around the dinner table now, the twins had found their way back into the house and into their playroom, I could hear a tablet playing 'Blipping' from where I sat with Riot and my Dads.

Nobody said anything right away, I didn't want to be the first to fill the awkward silence and I knew Riot wasn't going to do it.

It only took a few minutes until Silas finally cleared his throat and pushed a postcard to the middle of the table.

It was from Frederiksted, Norway and was torn around the edges.

It just said 'Hide' ✨ it was sighed simply with an S on the bottom and a date that showed it was sent two weeks ago.

Riot looked over to see it, he let out a sigh taking it from my hands and looking it over before placing it back on the table.

"What could it mean?" I asked, looking up at Darren.

"We're not sure. We haven't had anything suspicious happening, nobody has left. You're the first car to drive into town since we came home. We've got Quinton working on it too. It could mean anything. Lucca, Charles. We don't know. If they're tracking you it's best to be here then on an open farm."

"We can set you up in one of the guest-houses if you want."

Silas looked a little pained to say it as his eyes went between Riot and Myself and I knew it couldn't be easy for either of them to that they weren't the only important thing in my life anymore and that having my own space would almost be needed.

Not that I wanted to and not just for Riot and I to be alone but I didn't want to wake up at six am with the twins and I'm sure Riot didn't either.

For him to be comfortable, our own space was needed.

I nodded, tapping my fingers on my legs.

"Just until we get all this figured out."

"I gotta ask..." Darren started but Silas hit him on the arm.

"Ask."

"Was it?"

"Yeah? Was it what?"

"Did it hurt?" there was a pregnant pause, where Silas's eyes widened for a moment, hearing Darren's question.

"Your voice coming back," it quickly added, when the realization hit him.

"Your voice, did it hurt when it came back?"

I cleared my throat, shrugging.

"Not really. I just woke up and it was back. Riot's pack doctor suggested seeing Dr. Victor. I guess I should make an appointment."

"Well, what should we have for dinner then?"

I moved what things I had left at home into a guest-house a block away from home.

My bedroom at home was dark and full of memories that made my skin itch, that made me want to run away but Riot was there and he didn't let me run.

He let me take my time as I put a few things into boxes that used to occupy a space in the basement.

We sat on the sofa that came with the house hours later, I was tired.

I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep but I couldn't, my mind was whirling, though there were guards around the block I was staying on, purposely to watch my place.

I still couldn't erase the triggering feeling that was inside me by just being back here.

I didn't text anyone, Ivan knew I was around but he didn't want to come the same day I came back.

He insisted on giving me space, which I was more than thankful for.

I needed space.

I didn't want to not be able to face my friends but I was scared about what would happen.

"You need to calm down Alistair," Riot said in a light tone, he was sat on the other side of the sofa, our feet barely touched as we both looked at our respective phones, though Riot also had a book that he brought with him opened in his other hand.

"And how the fuck should I do that? The only thing that used to calm me down is a big no-no, now."

"You don't need drugs to calm down," he said with an eye roll, shutting his book.

I huffed putting my phone down.

"You don't know that, you don't understand."

I was frustrated, my hands were moving in odd ways as I spoke, looking towards my mate who just raised a curious brow at me.

I stood up, huffing like a child again as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"I just feel so..."

Riot stood up behind me.

"I know," he mumbled, shocking me with two arms around my waist as he stood behind me.

It wasn't much but it made everything in me stop for a moment.

My hands, head, everything paused for a second and I took a deep breath, turning myself around to look at him before putting my forehead on his shoulder.

"It's too dark to go for a run," he started.

"But maybe, first thing in the morning, that's what we should do. It should help, then we can go and get coffee with your friend, Ivan."

I hummed a 'yes' into his shirt, my arms tucked safely in between us.

We stood for a moment, my heart rate picking up every moment we stood there, but no longer was it beating with stress.

More with the fact that I was this close to Riot, his smell, his body heat, everything about it was mesmerizing.

I raised my head, after a few seconds and looked at him, watching him as he watched me for the second before our lips crashed together.

Kissing Riot would never get old, feeling him with me was something that still blew my mind. couldn't understand how I got so 'lucky'.

I didn't understand how someone as put together, composed and strong willed as Riot would go anywhere near me but here he was, in a whole other country, standing in the living room of a small house that we could momentarily call our own.

With his lips pressed on mine, his hands on my hips, the world outside these doors was scary but right here, right now, I never felt safer. 

[greyves-under-fire]

In the waiting room outside my therapists' office, it's now 36 minutes past when she usually calls me in. 37. I think it happened again, where it didn't show up in her system that I'm here, and she's letting her other client stay late. That's okay. They probably need it.

38. It's been a weird couple weeks. Lost my closest friend of ten years two weeks ago, but we had been lost for at least a year. and we weren't each other's closest friend anyway. we were just the ones that stuck around, and replaced the attention we actually wanted most.

40. I'm tired. The grief is so strange. It's just that twinge when you enter a situation that ends differently than it did before, simply because they're not a part of it. It's been ten years, starting in second grade. We gained consciousness at the same time, but that feels like the only thing that kept us together. I was always kind of a shitty friend. I could be the best, and I could be such a dick. But I was a kid. I was a kid who got fucked up. I can't keep apologizing for that.

42. 43. This is a weird feeling. She's gonna feel so bad when she comes out and realizes that I've actually been sitting here the whole time, and I don't know how to tell her that it's really okay. I've spent the last 34 minutes letting writblr break and heal my heart, and I feel okay. I do. but my chest is starting to ache. I addressed the grief, so I don't know what else I was expecting.

Of course it hurts. every birthday, every Christmas, every Valentine's day after my family stopped sending gifts to my school for me, she made sure I wasn't one of the kids in the class with nothing on their desk and a hopeless look in their eyes. At least not that day.

Her mother called herself my mother, and I did too. She was more of one than mine. But she never reached out. I thought it was unconditional. She looked at me like it was. but it wasn't.

48. She's not the first mom I've had that I've lost. First was mine. Second was her. Third was pretending. Or at least, spiteful enough to scream at me that she had been. She was the first adult to ever choose to use my name and pronouns. She sucked in so many ways, but still made me feel that I was worthy of the respect enough to do so. But that was conditional too.

52. I think I should just leave. But idk if I have the heart to tell my nanny that this happened. She'll be pissed, and I love her for it. But my therapist is so genuinely human in a way that makes us feel so akin. This isn't her fault.

53. I'm gonna leave.

54. In the elevator. 3. 2. 1. This sucks. I am still disappointed. but oh well.

I'm not ready to leave.

I'm pissed that she pretended it wasn't her fault too. (friend*)

25 days. 19 will be my first birthday without her in ten.

I didn't tell nanny. I'm hungry. I hate that. Hunger is cruel, around the corner at every turn, waiting to hurt me. It never stops, it's never over, you can only pause hunger. It's a sick joke, really. I don't want to eat, and I'd go without a little more if it didn't make life feel unlivable. (Again, I was hungry when I wrote this. I'm not the same person)

[hbelcherarts246-01]

Process & Reflection (Week 1)

Process

Our first project was the letter spacing project, which entailed kerning letters by hand. It was quite a challenge for me. I have an essential tremor, meaning parts of my body (usually my hands and arms) shake uncontrollably, and it’s most noticeable and frustrating when I try to use fine motor skills.

I didn’t struggle too much with the straight lines, because rulers are pretty easy for me to use. The issues started after I’d finished all of the straight lines, because that meant it was time to draw the curved parts of the letters. Since I didn’t have any French curves at home, I went shopping to try and find some. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find them in the stores that were within walking distance of my apartment (I don’t have a car), so I had to wait until Thursday’s class to borrow some.

I wasn’t expecting them to be so difficult to use; I thought they’d be akin to a ruler, where you just hold it in place and start drawing. Instead, I had to continually move, rotate, and make minute adjustments to position them just right along the letters’ curves. My hands kept shaking as I was doing it, which meant I spent what felt like an eternity aligning the curves, knocking it out of position, and then trying to realign it. Even after I managed to line them up, I’d knock it out of place again as I tried to hold it down and draw along it.

When 4:30pm rolled around, I was out of time and still not at all finished. I submitted what I’d call a “hot mess”, which you can view in the image below. I’m not proud of the work I did in this project, if I’m being honest.

Reflection

This episode of the 99U podcast probably struck a chord with many teenagers and young adults (whether they work in creative fields or not); I know it did for me. I picked this episode “Tony Schwartz: The Myths of the Overworked Creative” because the speaker addresses an issue that I am presently dealing with and will likely continue dealing with until I retire (at whichever age that may be, 65 or 90). That issue is exhaustion and burnout from being consistently overworked for a long period of time.

Like Schwartz says, I once thought my energy could be “infinite”, and for a while, it seemed it was. Up until sophomore year of high school, I was a straight-A student. I was more than capable of balancing school with my job while still leaving time for some basic self-care and creative projects. I had a good social life and I maintained a healthy sleep schedule. I was tired most of the time, but I was always told it was normal; feeling tired is just part of adult life. I thought it was normal and that I was fine right up until I realized it wasn’t normal, and I wasn’t fine. Making it through high school and keeping my job became the only things that mattered to me in life, and after a while, I couldn’t even handle those things. I lost sleep, friends, hobbies, and my belief that “life will get better”.

I know now it’s because I spread myself too thin, continuously pushed myself beyond my limits, and demanded perfection and productivity from myself, always. Now, 4 years later, I’m still dealing with the mental and physical health issues that were created and/or exacerbated by that initial burnout. I’ve become moderately agoraphobic, I’m an insomniac, I struggle with basic tasks, and my “creative brain” is empty.

Schwartz says humans need to “pause”, or renew, their energy after a period of “pulsing”, or expending, energy. I just haven’t had time to “pause”, I have to keep “pulsing” if I want to graduate on time, get a job, or simply survive. Unfortunately, given that I live in the economic and political fiasco that is America, I doubt I’ll ever have a moments rest again. The current economic trends show that my generation as a whole isn’t going to be able to retire or receive social security.

All that is to say, I wholeheartedly agree with Schwartz’s points about the current work model being physically and emotionally draining and harmful. Life shouldn’t be this stressful, and like Schwartz says, it’s not natural or healthy for humans to live and work like we currently do. The myths he debunks in the episode have been drilled into our heads so often that they’ve become widely accepted as “just how life works”. The perpetuation of these myths is driven by corporate greed, they serves only those in power, and they’re killing us, physically and psychologically.

Schwartz says we need to align our working style and work-life-sleep balance with our natural rhythms, and I agree. However, I seriously doubt it’ll ever happen, at least, not in my lifetime. It would require those in power to give up their massive wealth and influence, and they’ve proven themselves, again and again, to be too greedy, selfish, and out-of-touch to care about (or at the very least, not exploit and kill) their fellow human beings.

[chaosgremlinlivinginyourwalls]

Not so short story about how Avalon met Apollo. :)

I was 16 when I first met him. I had been on my way to Phthia for a visit. I didn't go often so it was special when I did. He had appeared in a shower of golden light. I didn't know who he was at first. If I didn't know better I would have thought he was my father, though the man in front of me had bright blue eyes, not the green my father had. I stopped my horse a few feet away from the man. "Who are you?" I called out. He gave me an odd look as if asking how I didn't know him. "I am Apollo! Surely you've heard of me!" I give the man a blank stare. "It's not as if I knew what your looked like. Can I leave now? I have places to be." I continued to stare at him. Apollo looked as though I had slapped him. "Why would ypu want to leave? I am right here! What else could you possibly be doing that is more important than talking to me!" "Visiting my kingdom," I say simply. " I am the heiress to the throne, but I reside on Mount Pelion because of the foster boys my grandfather takes in, I ride to the city every few weeks to see the last living mortal member of my family. Perhaps you don't remember. Let me jog your memory. My name is Avalon and I am the child of the two men you got killed during the Trojan War." He raised a brow at the statement, "Well, Avalon, you are going to have to be more specific. Many men were killed during that particular war, and many of their deaths could be blamed on me." I glared at the God, not caring if it got me killed. "Achilles. Patroclus. Do those names sound familiar, Lord Apollo? You helped the last prince of Troy kill my father. You are the one who helped the prince shoot an arrow into his back. My father, Patroclus, his death may not have been by your hand, but he is dead all the same." I snapped. Apollo had the decency to look ashamed, "Alright. You don't have to continue, I've got it. Though I do have a question, if I may?" I nod my head sharply. He continues speaking, "How do you exist?" He pauses when he realizes what he said. He quickly fixes his words, "What I mean to say is, well, both your parents were men." "Curious, isn't it? Even I don't fully know how, what I do know is that their ashes had been mixed when they died. Your sister Artemis, Athena, and Aphrodite did something, I'm not sure what. But I was created from what they did. The three of them made me essentially immortal, except it's more like the immortality of the Hunters of Artemis. I can still die. It will just take a great effort." I clear my throat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I do have to get to Phthia before sundown. I have to see my grandfather." I navigate the horse around the God. "Wait!" I stopped once again and turned to look at him. "May I come with you?" I laugh at that. "And why should I let you?" "Because I'm a God." Apollo frowns when I scoff at him. "You do realize that I am considered a goddess? Or have you already forgotten that I am in fact immortal?" I let out a harsh laugh, "You are a tremendously arrogant God, you know that? Yet you are not stupid, just blinded by a want for the things you can't truly have. Or rather the people." "I've heard the stories you know, about your ill-fated lovers." He grimaced as I spoke. "I hope you know I genuinely loved them all." Apollo seemed almost ... sad. It was pitiful really. "I don't doubt that you did, but having the love of a God doesn't always end the best. When Daphne rejected you, you couldn't accept it. So you hunted her down and she was turned into a tree. Your love was her downfall." I sigh. This God had caused so much pain to others, simply because he wanted something. And it was always either taken from him or just refused. "I apologize, but I really do have to be leaving now. You can join me if you like." "Alright then," He says quietly.

constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. And I'm sorry that it's all just a block of words. I'm too tired to put it into paragraphs. Hope you enjoyed

[saphushia]

do you have any more head cannons for Phantom Etho? I just am enamored with your ethos stuff-

hmmm i can probably think of a few-

he's not that good at flying. his wings disappear whenever he gets too far from someone sleep deprived, so to practice someone has to keep up with him on elytra. he's had enough practice to be a passable flyer, but even so it tires him out and he really only does it on occasion when he's bothering someone for not sleeping and swooping at them for fun. the rest of the time he uses elytra and rockets like normal

i originally drew his wings with inspiration from albatross- long slender wings that are best for soaring great lengths with very little energy use, but after some thought i think i'm gonna start drawing them more in the shape of an osprey's- the way it swoops for fish is far more reminiscent to phantoms to me than the albatross is.

i'm still tossing the idea back and forth, but i'm thinking etho hasn't always been a phantom hybrid. the phantom hasn't always existed, after all, and etho has existed in the universe quite a long time. quite longer than phantoms have. it's normal when worlds change, when a world is updated, that things in the world act in ways they never would have had the update either been there from the start, or never happened at all (who hasn't had a world break a little by loading it into a new version? more so if that world has seen many changes before it). it makes sense then, that when the universe changes, being given new rules, new qualities, new code, that players may sometimes change similar to how worlds do. that something in them becomes something it didn't used to be.

in reference to the previous, phantoms were added in 1.13, which released in 2018, one day before the start of hc s6. however, etho wasn't there for s6, and thus likely discovered his change while on his singleplayer world. or, well, he would have, except. there's no one other than him there, and he changes in reaction to other people. now, it's possible that he can constantly see himself in his phantom form. it makes sense, even! it's simply that he appears normal to well-rested onlookers. however, the MUCH funnier option, is that that's not true and he looks normal, so he just didn't fucking notice. as best i can tell from some cursory searching, the first time he's with other people after the 1.13 update is playing diversity 3 with the rest of team canada (which is 1.14, nearly a YEAR after phantoms are added). meaning he probably realized then, likely scaring all 3 of them to death because, while it's not unheard of for players to change during updates when new mobs appear, it is surprising to call up your buddy to go on a new adventure and then realize partway through that he's been a whole ass creature for a YEAR and he didn't notice. beef and pause laugh at him for a while over that

(for future reference, i'd appreciate if you didn't use colored text to send me asks. i understand it's likely a signature thing, but it's hard to read on dark theme with the screen filters i use, and while it's not the end of the world because i can read it, i'd prefer to not have to highlight or copy it somewhere else just to read a message in my inbox)

[noctilucous-sunni]

damn bastard took my fucking umbrella

contains — scaramouche, gn!reader, swearing, suggestive at the end, i personally thought while writing this that it was so funny idk why, unedited because i literally wrote it like 10 minutes ago and now its 12 in the morning (night?? idk ITS LATE) and i am very tired. masterlist.

As you walk out of the building, following the short harbinger, you both swear when you see that it is raining heavily. Thankfully, Thoma had reminded you to take an umbrella—scratch that, he actually just pushed it into your hand and left before you could protest. Opening it, you walk out of the dry and into the wet, yet the only thing getting wet is your umbrella. Yay.

“For fucks sake.” you hear Scaramouche grumble behind you, still staying in the dry.

Turning, you chuckle at his predicament. “You didn’t bring an umbrella, Scara?” You tease playfully, a smug grin spreading across your face.

He glares at you, boring his ever so pretty eyes into your skull. Any agent would be on their knees at this point, begging for mercy but you simply let a short laugh slip so easily past your lips.

“I love you too. See you at home?” You tease, smiling at him affectionately, acting like you’re about to leave.

He scowls and barks out a harsh unamused laugh. “If you fucking think that you’re going to just leave…” he pauses suddenly taking two big steps towards you, grabbing hold of your umbrella. “Go fuck yourself.” He finishes, smirking as raindrops suddenly splash on your clothing.

You gape, and then laugh yet again, amused, flipping him off as you try to wrestle for the umbrella handle. “You bastard! My beloved Kuni, you, are a little shit.” Needless to say, his grip did not falter, but your legs certainly did, making you slip and fall into the soggy grass.

You curse, but your eyes shine bright with mirth as your partner stands above you, refusing to help you up until the last second.

“Go fuck me yourself then!” You didn’t even realize the words coming out of your mouth so mistakenly said until he smirks, and you quietly curse under your breath.

“I can do that too. When we get home, that is.”

You blush, flipping him off again, but your blood rushes way too quickly to your brain and oh no, you’re pretty sure any moment now you’ll turn into a tomato. Oh, Archons, what have you done?

[black-queen-rising]

Rhaenyra leaned into her sister’s touch happily and without hesitation, breathing deeply, her heartbeat slowed as she placed her hands over Helaena’s. She had missed her dearly, this was neither a secret nor a surprise, but her presence after so many moons caused the realization to crash over her as if were new. “You are darling as ever,” She decided in barely more than a whisper, and then, more strongly, “And it cheers me greatly to hear things are well, or at least, as well as they can be.” She offered a small smile at that and momentarily ran a gentle hand over her sister’s loose, silvery curls. “You look happy, my love, and you look beautiful.” 

Rhaenyra took another moment to bask in her sister’s presence, then gently moved her hands and offered her a seat on the chaise closest to them before sitting herself, taking both of Helaena’s hands in her own once more once they were both settled. The answer to her question was much more complicated, Rhaenyra had always cared for her sister, and always fought for her, because too many times it felt as though there was no one else who would. She could still recall in hazy memory her excitement over her baby sister, at long last and after so much heartbreak, a baby sister. Rhaenyra imagined her life would read like a fairytale at that time, with a still doting stepmother, a cute, chubby cheeked little toddler brother, and a new, perfect baby sister. She was not yet even eleven years old, with little grasp on the weight of her position as heir and even less certainty she would remain so in the years to come. But even as the walls of her imagined, storybook future fell away, Helaena remained perfect.

Rhaenyra knew all too well that to the court, their family, her stepmother, and even Helaena herself she had many faults, but she could never find it in her heart to see them as such. So what if Helaena was shy, anxious, or more comely than ethereal? Rhaenyra was loud mouthed, vain, and equally anxious, they just exhibited the latter in different ways. She’d never spent a second regretting the ways she’d fought for her, certainly not now, so why was it so hard to share her internal battles now? To ask for payment in kind? Other than that she felt the payment had already been returned in all the ways Helaena had supported, and in turn urged the rest of their siblings to support, her position as heir and hand of the King, and of course, that the last thing she ever wished to do was be the reason pain crept into her big, beautiful violet eyes.

“I am faring as well as I could hope, in truth, and I am grateful for the help I have here, for the boys and the twins of course, for Daemon, and even your lady mother in her own way.” She paused just for a second at this, it was all true, and if nothing else she was at the very least grateful Alicent didn’t seem to be spreading any rumors she was poisoning her father to take the Throne for herself, this time. It was simply hard to articulate what she was trying to explain next, not just to Helaena, but to anyone.

“It’s a relief to have you and Aegon and everyone else here, having you…never mind,” she forced her smile back into a more natural position, “I know you are well aware of how much your support means to me. I’ve just been tired, as I’m sure you can imagine, there’s always more work to be done, but that’s certainly nothing new. Have the twins been doing alright with all of this? And Maelor? I fear it’s only made Baelon more attached, and Visenya’s back having nightmares again, I think Vis is too, but he and Aeg are trying to mimic Daemon’s stoicism the best they can, and I don’t think Aemma really understands but that might be for the best, it’s harder once they do. I hope, perhaps, being all back together again might help a bit, Visenya especially she’s missed Jaehaera greatly.”

Her smile fully relaxed after that, finally reaching up to her eyes as she gave her sister a small peck on the cheek, “I suppose she gets it from her mother.” 

House of Memories

(Closed starter for @helaenasdreamfyres)

The hours that sat between dusk and true night hung long in the transition from spring to summer where the seasons had been sitting for nigh on half a year. Helaena, Aegon, the rest of Rhaenyra's younger half siblings, and their whole household arrived back at the Red Keep the day before; returned to King's Landing for the first time since they were officially named Prince and Princess of Dragonstone by the Princess-Hand's own decree. The latest, and largest, show of good faith in the long string of promises, compromises, and peace offerings she'd orchestrated in the hopes her efforts would sate those who wished to go against her father's will and seat Aegon on the throne no matter the cost to The Realm.

It was no secret Rhaenyra missed Helaena most when their family split apart once more after all sharing a roof for nearly a decade since their father made her hand, not to either of them, the rest of their house, or anyone in the court not too distracted by spreading rumors about how they must loathe each other behind the scenes; because of course, isn't that what all women do? Rhaenyra let out a quiet laugh at the thought, contemplating how much she truly had missed her sister in their time away, and now they're here, and all she had to do was wait for Helaena to see her own children off to bed before they'd have a chance to speak freely with one another—as the pair had agreed earlier that day—her patience for waiting has seemed to vanish into thin air.

If the new Targaryens of Dragonstone had only returned to the Red Keep for some celebration or event, to celebrate Queen Alicent's name day, Jacaerys' wedding, perhaps even another babe she's all too aware her siblings were unlikely to have—but hoped they may have decided to pursue after all, as the comfort of their family island had inspired in her what now felt like half a life time ago—the only thing testing her patience would be the giddy nerves that catalyzed her whenever events and visitors descended upon King's Landing. However, the circumstances of their father's rapidly deteriorating health, what it meant for the realm, and the swarms of nobles all crowding into the capital expected to mourn the fall of a King and celebrate the rise of a Queen in equal parts have created countless more complicated emotions to eat at the Rhaenyra's resolve.

Persistent, pounding, perpetual worry for their father, their family, Helaena as much, and perhaps more than all the rest, was the fruit of the tree grown by all those inarticulable, awful feelings; Rhaenyra would never hesitate sing her sister's praises, but she was never good with handling stress, even less so at negative emotions, and though she'd never admit such to her, the older Princess had lost sleep in the past few days caught up in the anxiety of knowing grief was not a pain her sister could be protected from any longer, no matter how hard she wished it.

A knock on the door finally roused the Rhaenyra from her worrying. "Sweet sister!" Rhaenyra stands as soon as the guard stationed outside her chambers announces the younger Princess' arrival. She wrapped her arms around her sister gently before she'd barely crossed the threshold, before lead her back towards the sitting area with a gentle smile she hoped would at least conceal her nerves to ensure Helaena wasn't sent scurrying away by her own anxieties. "How are you faring, my love, and the children? I wish you were all returning under happier circumstances but I...I am happy to see you."

[shrimpchip123]

Hey uh— I am the anon that has massive brainrot and I couldn’t just not draw and then share it?? also sorry if the quality of the doodles varies, I was simply possessed by my brainrot and I cannot hold my brainrot driven body responsible for not being able to make it peak perfection /hj

[please note that I’ve never had to add a transcript to a post before so sorry if this is bad I just know my handwriting isn’t y’know viable for everyone]

transcript:

Image 1

An arrow points to Grian labeled “tired underpaid gas station worker”

An arrow points to Scar labeled “dumb rich guy that has a crush on him”

Image 2

Grian is woken up by loud knocking on his apartment door.

Grian, groggy and going to open the door: Oh right, Mumbo wanted to check on me

Grian, greeting Mumbo before cutting his sentence off: Hey Mum—

Mumbo, half hidden behind Scar, with his voice rushed: Hey, G— So Scar was worried so here he is! Okay, bye now, have fun!!

Image 3

Scar welcomes himself in, walking past Grian and looking around before bringing Grian to his bedroom: Wow, I always forget how small apartments are! Oh, you kept the sculpture and the portrait I gave you! Oh, right, we should get you to bed, c’mon!

Grian sits on the edge of his bed while Scar sits on the floor next to it, staring up at Grian

Image 4

Scar blinks at Grian

Grian, in a tired and confused tone: Scar, what are you—

Scar, interrupting Grian mid-sentence: I got you a booza cone!

Grian startles for a moment before asking in an incredulous tone: What the hell is a “booza cone?”

Image 5

Grian sits cross-legged on one side of his bed and licks his ice cream, meanwhile Scar leans over the side of the bed with his head resting on his arms

Grian, pausing from eating his ice cream: So… When are you..

Grian pauses for dramatic and comedic effect: Going home..?

Scar realizes that he forgot to call his butler to tell him when and where to pick him up as well as realizing that his phone is dead [and honestly he doesn’t really want to leave per-say]

Grian notices Scar’s eyes darting from the floor to him and realizes that Scar doesn’t have a way home.

Grian, too tired to care much about the situation, says in a deadpan tone to welcome Scar on the bed: Just take off your shoes and get up here.

Image 6

At first Grian and Scar put a pillow between them, Grian using the other pillow and Scar using his arms as a pillow. Grian regrets offering to let Scar stay the night in his bed because he finds he likes Scar being there and is flustered by his presence.

Later into the night, by some unknown means Scar and Grian ended up cuddling, both sleeping peacefully

[sukirichi]

black magic [02]

request. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife) + sukuna’s first time with his wife

cw. slight angst, insecurities, lots of making out, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, sukuna worships reader, spitting, cum eating, teasing! sukuna, face-off kamasutra position, soft dom! sukuna, unedited fic, pwp

song inspo. leave the door open (bruno mars)

note. i want a husband sukuna 

part one | part two

Sukuna gently takes your palm into his, soft and warm lips meeting your bruised knuckles that have seen years of hard work in exorcising curses like him. Uncanny that he showed so much affection to his enemy by nature, treating you with such care and tenderness that shouldn’t have been so possible for an evil creature like him. You’re supposed to love it, be grateful for it, yet his sweet gestures only irritate you, even more so when he retires to bed just like that without even so much sparing a glance your way.

You’ve been married for a year now that you’ve had enough of his confusing gestures towards you. One moment, he was showering you with love, regarding you like you were the light of his life before he’s walking away the next moment and pretending you don’t exist.

He was so infuriating. He would kiss you and hold you, but never touch you or be in the same room with you any longer than an hour. Even in bed, he’s always making sure his back is turned to you, peeling your arms off of him each time you attempt to cuddle him on times it got too cold. It hurts and dwells dangerously at the back of your mind – it would’ve been better if he got angry at you and announced he despised you, but he never did – that his hot and cold nature bothered you more than anything else.

You’ve eventually had enough that you just stopped caring. Barging in during his bath time, your nostrils flare upon seeing your husband so relaxed in the tub. Even after a year of marriage, he’s so unaffected and unaware by your need for him.

He really doesn’t care.

“Little one,” Sukuna blinks as he sits up from the tub, strong arms hanging off the edges of the bed. You admit; he really was beautiful and a desirable man that you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but crave the one thing you knew you weren’t supposed to have. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you not want me?” you suddenly demand, tears already streaming down your face faster than you would like. Hell, you never wanted to cry in the first place. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”

Sukuna chuckles nervously.

Oh, great, now he’s nervous around you?

“What are you going on about?”

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing,” you snap, “Every time we go to bed, you always put some distance between us and keep to your side of the bed. You push me away when I try to reach for you and you never touch me or kiss me on the lips. I-I understand this marriage was against your will, but I’m still your wife and I need you, okay?” chest tightening uncomfortably, you place a hand over your poor, aching heart that is further crippled when Sukuna’s face falls. “I just feel like...you’re sickened by me, like you cannot stand to be with me in the same room as me. It makes me feel like...it would’ve been better if I wasn’t here.”

You don’t know what kind of response you’re expecting from him after your outburst, but definitely not him standing up to loom over you. You respectfully avert your eyes from the sinful image of water dripping down his defined body, but it’s too late and he’s too close already that you won’t be surprised if he can hear your heartbeat pumping frantically.

He was large and imposing, truly a terrifying sight right before you especially with his tattoos that trail and wrap all around his muscular thighs, yet you’re not nervous because he could hurt you.

Rather, you’re agitated because he’s so close, so within reach that if you step a little closer, you could easily find the warmth you’ve been dreaming of for so long.

You’re frustrated because you want him though you shouldn’t.

Just then, Sukuna caresses your cheek and pulls the both of you back in the tub with you above him, and him lazily grinning above you. You gasp, abashed, that your clothes were soaked to the brim and it stuck close to your damp skin until it took the shape of your silhouette. Sukuna, on the other hand, is completely unbothered as he eyes your pebbled nipples poking through the thin material of your nightgown and simply drags you forward on his thighs.

“S-Sukuna—”

“You really have no idea, do you?” he whispers lowly, his long claws carefully tracing down the sides of your jaw. “My innocent, little lamb...the reason I distance myself from you is because every waking day that you are right beside me, my self-restraint thins, and I’m not sure I can hold back a little longer from you taming me,” Sukuna’s dark eyes brims with something unreadable as he holds your gaze. The look he wears is beyond intense that he takes your breath away, literally, and you’re left gaping at him silently. “I push you away because I want you more than anything else, but I respect you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You-you want me?”

“Clearly, little one, you’re inherently unaware of how captivating you are,” Sukuna says as if if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you shiver at his words – or from the cold water, you don’t really know. “Stop looking at me like you want me to kiss you. I may not stop once I get a taste of you. Like I said before – I won’t touch you unless you asked.”

You do remember him saying that from your first time together, but your head goes blank, and no words leave your lips even as you mouth nonsense.

Sukuna taps your lips. “Speak, little one. You need to use your big girl words.”

“Kiss me,” you vociferated in one breath, desperately clutching on your thighs. “Please.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away as his eyes narrow into suspicion, but soon he’s tugging at your collar to bring you down for a heated kiss. Sukuna is tugging your robes down until your collarbones are exposed, his tongue and lips leaving yours to leave marks and love bites all over the patch of skin instead. You tug at his hair as you crane your neck to the side, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure his warmth and greediness consumes you with.

Grinding down on his groin, you notice he’s already hard. Hard for you, and this realization makes you kiss him back hungrily as you whimper above him.

Sukuna is feverishly sucking on your tongue and pawing at your breasts the next instant before the spell is immediately broken just as it happened. For before you could reciprocate the same amount of eagerness he kissed you with, Sukuna is already sliding you off of him until you’re on the other side of the tub, left staring at him wordlessly with his lips red and swollen.

“Not today, little one. I think that’s enough.”

You hear your heart shatter into pieces. Pride; it was about the only thing you had, but it seemed even that had been taken away from you.

“You really don’t want me.”

Your voice cracked as your eyes began to tear up.

“No, love, that’s not what I meant,” he groans into his hands, “Believe me, I’d spent enough nights sweaty and frustrated knowing I can’t ravish you and have those lush thighs around me already,” waiting for him to continue, Sukuna sighs and holds you closer, though he could only caress your knee right now that you’re wary of getting hurt again. “This is your first time, okay? I want to make it special for you – you’re not experiencing bliss with me if it happens impulsively with you barging in my bath.”

Something like hope lights up inside you.

“Y-you’ll really do that for me?”

“Tch, brat, don’t go all soft on me now. I wouldn’t suggest testing my patience even further,” he playfully flicks your forehead when you tried to kiss him again, but Sukuna is already tilting his cheek to other side before you could. You would’ve been heartbroken again that he’s refused you, but his words held more than reassurance – and so did his uncomfortably hard cock – that all previous insecurities vanished into thin air.

Sukuna grabs you by the waist to plant your feet on the ground outside the tub, carrying you as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll to him. “Now go and get changed. I’ll fuck you another time.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“My deepest apologies, little one,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though his smile turned genuinely warm the last minute. “I’ll make love to you when you’re ready.”

He must’ve lied.

You’re annoyed because Sukuna is intentionally avoiding you and acting like you don’t exist. Pissed off, you go into a curse exorcising spree to get the King of Curses out of your mind, reminding yourself that he was vile like them and he didn’t deserve even a second of your time.

Although no matter how hard you tried, your mind still kept racing back to him even as you come back home, bloody and tired when you realize the temple is eerily quiet. Not a living soul could be found around, no servant fretted at your arrival and your husband most definitely did not lurk in the shadows like he usually did. The only sign the temple hadn’t been abandoned yet were the lines of candles trailing down the hall to your shared room with him, and you gasp as you see the petals decorating the bed and rose-scented candles lit everywhere.

Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

But he was felt as he kisses your neck, his hands untying the knots of your yukata. You stiffen in reflex before relaxing as soon you recognize his scent. Behind you, Sukuna pauses, his lips still in the column of your neck.

“You’re upset.” He wasn’t asking; rather observing.

“Not anymore,” you mumble in response, although you weren’t entirely convinced even as you come closer to the bed, your husband trailing behind with his pinky looped to yours. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you,” you hide your smile for him, not wanting him to see that it’s so easy to alleviate your anger to him. He has to earn your approval again, so you turn to him with a forced scowl and arms crossed against your chest. “But why were you ignoring me for days?”

You intended to look intimidating, but the King of Curses only laughed.

“You look cute when you’re mad. Plus, it made you want me more than you already do, didn’t it?” he chastised, the implications of his words making you pout in humiliation. Sukuna is quick to step closer to you, cupping your cheeks into his hand, and you hated how easily you leaned into his touch. Nevertheless, you turned away from him, using all your energy to muster your most serious ‘I’m not bothered’ face.

“Aw, don’t be shy, it’s written all over your face, little one,” he breathes on the shell of your ear, hands trailing down to lightly drape your clothes below your shoulders. Unable to hold it back, you end up shivering at his featherlike touches.

“It’s okay. I loved hearing your soft whimpers every time you touched yourself in the bath, thinking that I’m probably not around to hear, hm? You forget I sense everything,” his laugh is mocking yet laced with lust, “From the frantic singing of your heart, the way you tense up a little when I’m around, or the way those beautiful legs of yours clench together each time my robe is a little loosened,” Sukuna dips his nose right under your jaw where his tongue darts out to lick a flat stripe down your neck, and just like that, you’re breathlessly clutching on his white robes that are already unfastened. Damned tease.

“Even the smell of your arousal is enticing me to enrapture you right now, little one. I can practically hear the silent begging in that pretty little head of yours.”

You forgot how to breathe.

“B-but I’m dirty, I just finished exorcising curses.”

“Would it be comedic if I said I am aroused at the thought my wife could easily end me right here and now?” shaking your head at him, Sukuna smiles mysteriously. “But you won’t, would you? You need me too much for that,” he leans closer than he already was before, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Tell me, do you want me?”

“Yes,” you whispered breathily, “Please, Sukuna, touch me.”

“It’s my love to you.”

“Not Your Majesty?”

“Hmm, that is delightful to hear as well,” he says, “But let’s our drop our titles. For now, whatever happens between us is intimately between man and wife. Now go clean up, little one. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready.”

You waste no time into darting to the bath, scrubbing the blood and dirt on each nook and crevice of your body until you’re squeaky clean. You’re about to head back to bed when you quickly practice puckering your lips to make yourself look desirable, muttering hopefully flirty lines that would make your husband want you more before calling it quits from the embarrassment you caused upon yourself.

By the time you’ve completely dried and moisturized yourself to absolute perfection that you’re confident of yourself, you find Sukuna emptily staring into the ceilings. “Done already? Someone’s eager.”

You roll your eyes at him. Why did you like him again?

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly, little one,” he confides, patting his thighs to encourage you to climb onto him. Now that things were actually getting real and your endless dreams would soon become reality, your palms grow sweaty as you settle yourself onto his lap. “You tell me right away if I’m hurting you, you understand? One word and I’ll stop; though I doubt you’ll be in your right mind to want to stop once I’ve had my way with you.”

You don’t really understand much of what he’s saying anymore.

He’s kissing you so slowly, so passionately and you’re both undressing each other that nothing but desire and lust clouds your thoughts in that moment. You’re drunk on the sweet taste of him, his natural musky scent beyond intoxicating for your mortal self to handle. Too lost in the bliss of finally being intimate with him, you don’t realize Sukuna has already pushed your towel down until it pools at your waists. His sharp intake of breath is the only thing that pulls you back to reality as he greedily takes in each beautiful curve and dip of your body.

His stare is so fervid that you grow shy and cover yourself, where Sukuna quickly grips your wrist as a warning. “No. You do not hide yourself from me.”

“Then stop staring too much.”

“Is it a sin to appreciate divine beauty?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks at you innocently. “You are ethereal, my wife.”

Before you could be too flustered to respond, Sukuna fortunately saves you from the embarrassment by kissing you again, though it doesn’t last long before his mouth is trailing from your collarbone and down to your breasts. You mewl as Sukuna eagerly sucks on one breast, the other showered with attention from his rough, calloused palms. Meanwhile, you push his clothes away to expose his strong shoulders which you use as leverage because his ministrations make you feel like you’re losing control over your own body.

Rolling your hips on his erect cock, Sukuna groans through your skin, squeezing your breast hard enough that you can’t take it anymore right after he tweaks your nipple. “Love, please, I need you right now.”

“Patience, little one,” he reminds, “I need to prepare you well.”

“I’ve been waiting for months, Sukuna, I’m sure I’m more than ready.”

“Emotionally, sure, but physically?” he chuckles darkly, “Little one, do you not understand your nimble fingers cannot compare to my cock? I might hurt you if you’re not stretched out enough.”

“Then stop kissing me and start—” you’re cut off with a gasp, your nails sinking down harder into his skin the moment his fingers began to rub at your pussy. “Y-your claws—”

“I kept them for years, but I had to cut them just for you, little one. What do you have to say about that?”

“Thank you,” you offer with a breathy moan, head falling into his shoulder from the overwhelming yet welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Sukuna, it’s too good, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he bites the shell of your ear and tugs at the lobe, basically biting it between his teeth to distract you from another long and thick digit pushing past your walls. “One more?”

“O-oh!” his thumb has now joined the party by rubbing soothing circles on your clit, effortlessly pulling your lips aside with the rest of his digits to expose your sensitive bundles of nerves for him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, watching and drinking in the face you make – pleasure written all over your features from the swollen lips, pupils blown wide, and desire pooling in swirls of curiosity and eagerness. It’s a face he never wants to forget; a face he wants to see more of that Sukuna eventually lays you down against the pillows, admiring how unreal you looked in that moment.

Hair splayed all over the pillow, legs spread wide open with his hands caressing your core, and a strong arm gripping his with small gasps accompanied by desperate calls for his name to do more, please you more – your words instantly translate into commands.

“You are so beautiful,” Sukuna praises rather angrily, “Never forget that. Each inch of you, fuck, you are the most dangerous mortal, you know that?”

You don’t have time to react before he’s going down on you and spreads your legs apart, keeping them pinned down to the bed. The stretch hurts but he easily soothes your pain by massaging your inner thighs, crawling down to kiss your ankles, then licking all the way up to your knee where he stops for a second, only to happily be on your sopping cunt the next moment. He’s peppering barely there kisses to your inner thighs just on your outer lips, his breath warm and teasing on your heat.

It feels like he intends to ruin you tonight.

“Sukuna, stop teasing!”

“What do you want me to do, little one?” he grins from between your legs, the vibrations of his chuckles resonating deep within your cunt that sporadically clenches right in front of his face that’s shamelessly imprinting your scent deep into his memory. “How can I make you feel good?”

“You know how!”

“You need to tell me so I know. I can’t read your mind.”

“Your mouth...”

Sukuna’s smile grows wider the longer you struggle to find your words, but exactly how in the world could you say such vulgar things out loud? He is far more patient tonight than any other day, however, that Sukuna props himself to his elbows to peer up at you innocently. “Where do you want my mouth and what should I do with it?”

Swallowing the rest of your pride, you finally utter: “T-taste me...down there.”

“Here?” he prods your clit, pulling a high-pitched gasp from you. Your husband’s smirk is nothing short of condescending just before he finally kisses your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth until you writhe before him. It takes minimal effort for someone of his strength to hold your legs in place, his grip just tight enough to be commanding. The thought of being completely in his mercy made your head spin in circles, your chest heaving up and down from the pleasure he was blessing yet torturing you with. “You’re so responsive, little one. I’m honoured I’m the one who gets to make you feel like this.”

“M-more, please, I need more.”

You expect him to tease you further, but your husband must’ve noticed that you’re too edged and decided to have pity on you. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his lips around your pussy, treating it as if it were your own lips that always tasted like honey.

Sukuna is completely immersed in the act of pleasuring you with his tongue only, so much so that he’s silent aside from the little hums he lets out while you moan for him.

Unable to care about being too loud anymore (not that you needed to since Sukuna had made everyone go back home to give you both privacy) you find yourself throwing your head back, legs falling open wider to grant him deeper access to your most sensitive parts. Sukuna continues to massage your inner thighs and even drags the back of your knee to rest on his muscular back littered with battle scars and tattoos, the dark markings on his skin flexing with each movement. His eyes are closed and his nose is grazing against your swollen clit that had reddened already, your pussy lips opening up like a new world he had to explore, and explore he would.

Your hands find solace in his hair the shade of gentle sunsets that were often shared in lazy kisses and subtle touches, nails dragging across his scalp just enough to make your husband hiss right between your legs. Something begins to tighten in your belly as you grind your clit onto his face, too absorbed in the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue now poking against your entrance and the past barrier slowly blooming open to welcome him.

With shaking legs and a chest drenched in sweat, pebbled nipples further stimulated by the cold breeze drifting in from the windows, your eyes snap open as that rope snapped deep within your belly.

Your gaze shoots down below you to watch your husband ardently lapping your juices like a man starved. Now this wasn’t new to you – you’ve heard enough about the King of Curses and his bloodlust. Whispers of his thirst and desire to slay entire towns and even feast on mortals’ souls was enough to keep you at bay when you were still a young sorcerer, for it was already a blatant warning that Sukuna would feed on anything and anyone, that his hunger was quite something that couldn’t be satiated.

But seeing him unhinged and a slave to pleasing you has never felt more erotic that you ride out your orgasm, toes curling and legs trembling every now and then from the aftershocks of your high.

Slowly, Sukuna darts out his tongue one last time just to leave a teasing touch to your clit before he’s crawling right above you again. The ceiling is obscured by his large frame hovering over you, arms trapped between your head and his gallant member poking just between your thighs. You end up shivering under him as your husband regards you – with affection, pride, curiosity – gentle in comparison to his true nature in caressing your cheek, both of you unbothered by the slick that meets your skin.

“Are you okay?” he breathes out, watching your fucked out smile bloom into a felicitous grin.

“Perfect,” you mumble, although rather shyly. You’d seen him naked before, but never hard, and never with the intention that soon you’d truly be connected – in heart, in body, in mind, and in soul. The thought makes your heart skip a beat, your eyelids growing hooded as Sukuna absentmindedly traces patterns on the curve of your hip. “Sukuna...you’re perfect.”

Your husband laughs, the sound of his glee contagious that you’re chuckling with him as well. “Have you seen yourself, little one? I think I fall for you harder each day.”

His sudden confession brings about a silence in the room, but it wasn’t comfortable, and neither was it tense. If anything, it destroys any traces of previous hesitation and pent up anger that’s only been formed in the first place due to the fact he was Curse and you a sorcerer.

The nature of your relationship had been paradoxical to begin with, perhaps even beastly, but nothing was beastly about it now as you wrap an arm around his neck to bring him closer to you. And Sukuna was just that – the man, the Curse, the feared King whose simple mention of his name made mere mortals tremble – the same person that somehow understands your silence better than anyone. No words were needed when he could read your mind and knew his way around your heart a little too much, not once leaving his lips on yours as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you before him. Both of your skins are hot and flushed, yet you’re greedily touching and pulling at one another, his large palms clawing at your ass to pry your pussy lips open while you drag your nails down his chest.

He grunts into your mouth; the sound deep and masculine that it vibrates all the way down to your core. You gasp into his mouth – your breath immediately swallowed by his tongue that dances with yours – once you feel him slip inside.

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You’ve fought and exorcised countless of curses that pain was no stranger to you at this point, but never had you felt so...alien to a sensation both tragic and addicting. Pulling away to breathe air back into your lungs, your forehead knocks with Sukuna until your noses are brushing against the others, mouth hanging open as your walls struggle to accommodate him.

“Oh, oh god,” you mewl above him, eyes wide open as you witness each inch of his cock disappearing from the motion of you swallowing his length whole. He was big; terrifyingly so, and you shake with fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him or that he might rip you apart. “Su-Sukuna—”

“You’re fine,” he reassures by pulling your cheeks back to him, your delicate face trapped between his rough hands. Although his eyes are dark with lust, there’s a tenderness behind them that placates you. “You can tell me to stop if it hurts. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

There’s no lie or hesitation behind your voice. Sukuna watches your face carefully to detect any sign of discomfort, but you want this, want him, and the pleasure combined with the tolerable sting only makes you desire him even more. The mere fact that there had to be pain and sacrifice, that you had to place your whole trust in him before you could truly succumb to the pleasure and love that created light and hope in this world was enough for you to want to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and Sukuna wipes away the frown on your face with the pads of his fingers.

He allows you to go at your own pace until you’re completely seated on his cock, the heated member throbbing so hard inside you that you think he’s poking and prodding right deep into a place where you could hold him close the most.

It’s too much and too good that for once, you let your walls crash down as you bury yourself in his shoulder. Sukuna holds you closer by pulling you right into his chest, large arms wrapped around your frame while your breasts tease the rugged and taut muscles of his body. Even the slightest movement of you adjusting yourself on his lap makes his cock graze against your bumpy walls that you’re both moaning left and right. As you struggle to make sense of the sensations bursting within you, Sukuna’s self restraint hangs dangerously by a piece of thread. You can tell by how he’s cupping your ass and lifting your body up effortlessly before he slides you back down on his thick pole, that single, simple gesture repeated over and over again along with him bringing his hips back up to meet your warmth sending a scorching heat all over your body.

“Love, that’s, fuck,” you curse incoherently, and upon hearing a profanity leave your otherwise innocent lips makes something snap inside your husband.

Sukuna is gripping onto your hips for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, tilting his head back just to scrutinize your connected bodies. A thick ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock until it slides down on his veiny cock, sounds of skin slapping against skin and the loud squelching of your pussy even more beautiful than the screams mortals have moments right before their death in his hands. But Sukuna be damned – you felt too good that this might as well have been his death.

“You feel so fucking good,” he praises through gritted teeth, easily manhandling you and throwing you back on the bed where he’s on you in a second. “Look at you, little one, taking my huge cock so well. It’s like you’re made just for me – you want to be with me, don’t you? I would please you, fuck you good every day, yes, fuck!”

Sukuna ended up hitting a spot that equated to uncharted territory, causing you to tighten around him with a sharp cry. “Oh, right there, right there!” you rub your clit for further stimulation, moaning louder when he hoists both your legs on his chest.

He presses your legs and hugs his around his arms, flipping it to the side until your feet are right beside his ears. Sukuna has gone completely feral – his pace and drive animalistic, growling like a predator consuming his prey before he softens, kissing your ankles just as he grips your legs to make them squish together. The sudden lack of space makes your pussy tighter and more sensitive for him that you’re fisting the sheets right beside you, too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. You’re babbling mindlessly on how good he’s making you feel, completely limp and motionless under him from how deep he’s hitting.

“Please, please, please—” you cry out, reaching out just seconds away from your orgasm with the need to touch him. Sukuna gives in and lets go of your legs until they fall at your side, stretching you out further from when he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

He’s caressing your cheeks and swipes a thumb over your tears, quite nearly folding your half. His balls are slapping against your ass the harder he thrusts inside you, but his hips are stuttering and he’s panting right beside your ear that you can tell he’s close. It prompts you to wiggle under him to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and clutching his scalp just to have him impossibly close, because even thinking about letting him go sounds too painful, especially now that he’s claimed you as his just as you’ve marked him yours.

“I worship you,” he blurts out with a few final thrusts that has you crumbling under him in a silent scream, your focus completely on his dark, passionate eyes as you came. Sukuna then laces his fingers through yours while he pumps himself inside you, your walls milking him of everything he’s got. “You are divine, my wife, you have bewitched me for eternity.”

“Sukuna,” you call out weakly, and he’s quick to litter kisses all over your face from your whimpers. “Sukuna-I-I—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Sukuna places a finger on your lips, letting you calm down from that earth shattering orgasm he just gave you. He pulls his spent dick out a minute later and scoops up your cum that’s spilling out from your pussy lips, his gaze never leaving yours the whole while he sucks his fingers inside his mouth. He’s so dirty and erotic that you’re clenching around nothing once more, but he shakes his head with a low chuckle as if he can sense you want more. Sukuna kisses you just to transfer the cum mixed with spit right onto your tongue, gripping your jaw when your eyes widen at him. “Swallow it, little one. That’s just a taste of what I could give to you.”

You don’t know what pulled you to actually swallow it – it tastes bitter and even a little salty, though it had a bittersweet tinge of scent to it that you don’t mind, especially not when Sukuna just stares at you like you’re most his prized possession.

Sukuna is right by your side the next moment. He’s tamed the next moment, pure comfort and bliss from the way he’s tenderly running his fingers up and down the sides of your body like he’s memorizing the feel of you around him. You both don’t say anything as you place your cheek right above his chest, arms locked on his chest in a desperate cling, but neither does he want you to let go. Sukuna threads his fingers on your hair before you feel his lips caress the crown of your head, mumbling sweet nothings right as you’re welcoming sleep.

Until he taps your breast.

“Little one?”

“Yes?”

“We never had our honeymoon, do we?” he queries, and you twist your head to face him as your brows draw together in thought.

“No, I don’t think we did. I pushed you away from me on our first night together, remember?”

Sukuna’s eyes shone with mischief. “How could I forget? You tried to kill me right after our wedding,” both of you share a laugh at the memory, though there were no more harsh feelings or contempt shared, only love, and love only. Sukuna softens under your gaze as your chuckles tinker down to a giggle, your finger teasingly drawing circles on his chest as you bite your lip. And like always, Sukuna knows you just a little too well. “I know that look. What is it that you want, little one?”

“You.”

“Me?” he repeats with a dark chuckle that sends heat right down to your womanhood. “You already have me, little one, your wish has been granted a long time ago.”

Your face burns. “I mean, I want you. Again. One more.”

“One more?”

“Or maybe a lot more,” you pipe up, but Sukuna’s smirk is growing more and more devious that your former tenacity soon dwindles down into meekness. “O-only if you want to. You must be tired.”

“Little one, I’m the King of Curses, did you really think I would be tired from fucking my sweet little wife?” At his words, Sukuna tilts your chin until you’re left with no choice but to be held captive under his lust. He leans down to teasingly bite your bottom lip, and you’re already breathing hard as you feel his hands begin to trail down to your core that’s more than eager to take him all over again. “Like I said, I worship you, and I’m nothing but a bewitched man who would gladly fuck his wife as long as she asks.”

Safe to say, you couldn’t exorcise curses for quite some time.