#his ass is not making it past 29

[razzlerus]

old old man (he’s 29) pushing fifty (he’s 29) he’s halfway in the grave already (i’m worried for him) 💀🪦🕊️

[dollfacefantasy]

PRETTY AS A PRINCESS ♡

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan have to work on halloween, but on the bright side, that means you get to dress up. and even better, you get to give him a little preview of the costume you've chosen.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, ddlg, slight dumbification

wc: 3.2k

a/n: reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <33

kinktober slot: day 29 - ddlg

"You sure you don't need my help in there?" Logan calls to you.

"I got it. Just gimme a second," your voice responds, slightly muffled from the walk-in closet door separating the two of you, "So impatient."

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, a smile rising to his lips. Normally, that comment would get you a small swat on the ass, but he decides to let it go for now.  You were in a particularly good mood today. The two of you had been assigned a mission next week that fell on Halloween. At first, you'd been unhappy about that, but then the professor informed you that it meant you were going undercover at a Halloween party - which meant you got to dress up.

For the past couple weeks, you'd been thinking about this costume choice as if it was the most important decision you'll ever make in your life. There were just so many options as you'd put it. So many colors and cuts. 

He knew you, so he knew it'd be something cute. But thus far, you hadn't actually shown him what you picked. Today it arrived in the mail, which is why tonight, you made a big deal of revealing it to him.

"Are you ready?" you finally ask.

"I've been ready. Let's see it."

The closet door creaks open. Before you exit, you peak your head out, flashing him a quick smile. Your excitement oozes from every pore on your body, flooding the room as you finally step out from behind the mahogany.

His prediction had been right - you look very cute. You strut out to him in what seems to be a princess costume. A tight corset wraps around your waist while frills and lace compliments your bust. The skirt goes down to your mid thigh, flowy and sweet while teasing enough flesh to be seductive. A sparkling tiara rests atop your head, and long, smooth gloves cover you fingertip to elbow. 

Skipping over, you stop in front of him. "So... what do you think?" you ask with a coy cock of your head.

His eyes scan you up and down, but of course, his mind has been made.

"Do you really have to ask?" he teases, "You look beautiful."

A bright smile spreads over your face when the inevitable answer hits your ears.

He chuckles at the reaction and reaches out to grab your waist. He really does adore this little get-up. It suits you just right, and on top of that, he can already tell how it makes you feel.

From the beginning of your relationship, Logan had a suspicion you'd be into this kind of thing. The whole princess thing. And along with that, the whole daddy thing. 

While you could be fierce in the field, sharp and quick, there was another side to you. A side that liked things soft and gentle, that yearned to be taken care of. It was the same part of you that came out when he sat you on his lap, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. The part that made your head go fuzzy and your eyes glossy when he'd speak in a lower tone or call you a sweet name.

Over the course of knowing you, he'd found there were more triggers than delicate touches and tender words though. It was easier for you to slip into this dreamier headspace when you were tired or sad. You also liked when he took over simple tasks for you. But another one was definitely when you felt pretty. That always seemed to bring the d-word out from between those plush lips.

He found it a little odd at first, but he loved you. He could roll with you calling him daddy if that's what you wanted. And after a while, it didn't seem so strange anymore. He found himself craving your voice ringing out those two syllables, calling for only him when you felt your most vulnerable.

He spins you around between his thighs and kisses the warm back of your neck. The zipper on your dress hadn't been pulled all the way up. His fingers find the small metal piece to tug, pulling on it a little to tease before fixing the garment.

"Were you gonna wear it like this to the party, babydoll?" he asks, voice slipping into that lovingly condescending tone, "Give everybody there a nice show?"

A giggle bursts from you. Vibrates up your sternum through your throat and from your mouth. With how close he is to you, he can feel each bit.

"No," you say as if it's obvious. From your cadence alone, he can tell his set of suspicions was correct. You're starting to slip.

"So you need daddy's help then?" he mocks, dropping his voice. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, tugging a little and beckoning more laughter from you.

"I guess..."

"You could've just said that then. I know my little girl can't be expected to do everything on her own."

You hum with petulant agreement. Your head tilts back to rest on his shoulder at the same time the back of your dress closes up. He kisses up your spine, the metal teeth chasing his lips.

"There we go," he says with a small pat to your hip.

You turn around to face him again. The fabric of your skirt flies up a little with the mini twirl. He smooths it back down for you before gazing at those eyes glimmering with admiration.

"Could you help me with my socks and shoes too? I accidentally forgot them out here."

"Did you now?" he smirks. He knows your games. If he doesn't offer to do things for you, then you make sure to create a situation in which the chances of that happening increase.

"Mhm," you say, nodding up and down in big bobs.

"Well go get them, and bring 'em here."

Obeying the command like it's a second nature, you pad over to the chair by the closet and dig inside the package to get the matching pieces to this outfit. He watches you pull out ivory thigh highs with little bows at the meshy hems and a pair of dainty heels. 

The items swing back and forth at your sides as you waltz to him. He takes them from you and sets them on the mattress. Standing up, his form rises above your own. He guides you so that your positions are reversed. Your thighs press against the blankets before he guides you down to sit.

"Be a good girl and sit still for me now. We'll get you all dolled up," he directs.

In a move no one else besides you ever sees, he crouches down before you. He gets on his knee and grabs one of the socks off the bed. The material stretches under his careful fingers as he prepares it for you. One of his hands takes your ankle, boosting your leg up.

The thin, white fabric slides over your foot first. Just as he did with the zipper, he kisses your ankle, then your calve, your knee and then your thigh. He feels your pupils lock on him. He doesn't even have to look up. His mind knows the way they’re dilating while set upon him.

He shimmies the sleeve around your leg, making sure the little bow sits at the front. "That look right?" Now his eyes look up at your own.

The two small spheres look as he'd imagined, blown-out and ultra-focused on him. Your bottom lip is between your teeth too. "Mhm. Thank you, daddy," you answer softly.

"No problem, baby."

Now, he moves to your other limb. He repeats the process. Smooches land on your skin, flowing along the path the sock follows. That one gets put in the proper place too. He pushes your legs together, looking at the pair next to each other. The bows sit there staring back at him. He didn't know how he was supposed to focus on whatever you were actually going to this halloween party for when you looked like this.

"Cute, huh?" he asks.

You nod and smile.

After seeing your legs closed, the only natural next move would be to spread them apart. His thumbs hook against your inner thighs, the rest of his digits curling over the rest of the doughy flesh. He pushes them away from each other. The growing distance causes the silky skirt to ride up and allows him to see what you wear beneath your pretty dress.

Matching panties. The same kind of lace that framed your collar fans across your pelvis. It's fashioned in the same style and color as the rest of what you're wearing. He can feel heat pooling between his legs just from a quick glance.

"Are these new too?" he asks, tugging you to the edge of the mattress and pushing your skirt away.

"Yeah... Do you like them?" you check.

"You're smarter than that, baby," he says. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cunt over the fabric. The gesture's so chaste, but you feel your tummy flutter with the first beat of arousal.

"I just wanna make sure since I got them for you," you tell him.

"All for me? Never knew you could be so thoughtful, sweetheart."

You scoff and pout at him from above. "Yes you did."

He laughs softly at that and pecks your inner thigh a few times as penance. "Maybe. I guess you can be sweet when you wanna."

His tongue flicks out to lick back up to the new panties. The scent of your desire grows more prevalent. He knows you're getting wet for him. Bringing one finger up, he traces over the cloth, from where your slit is to your cute little clit. He does that a few times before hooking around the entire section and pulling it aside. Like he expected, your folds glisten for him.

"Poor baby. Is daddy getting you all messy?" he coos with a smug look.

"Yeah," you whimper. The shudder you'd been repressing washes over your body.

"It's only right I clean my pretty princess up then, hm?" he asks, still mocking you with his eyes.

You nod again, your confirmation wordless this time.

He brings his face to your center and lays a more passionate kiss upon the slick skin. His lips engulf your sex, his tongue dancing against your clit teasingly. Instantly, you whine and dig your gloved fingers into the sheets. Your legs find their places on his shoulders, convincing him to lean deeper into the junction of your thighs.

His tongue flattens, lapping your pussy with a nearly feral lust. It's no secret that Logan loves your taste. Not a drop of you goes to waste if he can spare it. He feels your thighs quivering against each side of his head and brings his free hand to rest on top of one. The security of him holding you there settles you slightly. But the position also gives him leverage to keep you close.

He sucks on your clit and then fucks his tongue into you. You try to writhe. Your hips buck at the onslaught of pleasure flaring up at your core, but he has an inhumane grip on you. You haven't cum yet, but you're gushing onto his face all the same.

"Daddy," you mewl, barely able to get the word out, "You're gonna ruin the underwear."

He's rock hard now at the whiny sound of your voice. You always get that way when you're near the edge. Your lip starts to wobble. Your voice gets pitchy as your demands grow needy. The look in your eyes just makes everything you say sound like begging.

Not one to normally be interrupted, he twirls the tip of his tongue around your bundle of nerves. But the words you spoke begin to register in his brain, and he reluctantly pulls back. His eyelids droop down with lust. Your fluids coat his chin and make some of his facial hair shimmer from the wetness.

"That's true, baby. Can't get these all soaked and destroyed before the party."

He rises to his feet again, pulling your panties all the way off simultaneously. Then his hands drop to his pants. He rids himself of his belt and undoes his fly.

"Plus, I think I have another way I can show you how much I like this new dress."

Taking his cock out, he tugs on it a few times. A few pearls of precum bead at the tip. His favorite part about getting his dick out is watching your reaction to it. No matter how many times you've seen it, you still seem so in awe. You marvel at the size and the way it flushes. Your eyes track the veins sprawling over it and sneak a glance at the heavy set of balls hanging below his shaft. He doesn't think you could look any more longing if you tried.

You're already soaked, so all he has to do is line up and slide in. Whining as he pounds himself into the hilt, your eyes start to go starry. He gets a firm grip on the swell of your hips in order to drag himself back and then pump himself forward again.

"Daddy... slow down," you pout, "s'too big."

He chuckles at your performance and slams in again just as hard. "No, no. C'mon, baby. Daddy needs this. He's gotta show you what you do to him in this little dress. And I know you can take it."

His hips continue to bump your ass as he thrusts back and forth. It's easy for him to find the rhythm you like. He settles into it and rocks in and out of your tight cunt. It feels like pure, concentrated bliss for him; always does. Your velvety walls, spasming and sucking on his cock. Silently crying 'more more more.'

"Pretty girl... we're gonna be doing this at the party too if you're not careful," he grunts.

You babble and squirm on the bed, lazily nodding at the sound of his voice. It's so cute, he thinks. The way you go dumb so quick and easy.

"Mhm. You're gonna drive me crazy. Might have to pull you into one of the bathrooms and bend you over the counter. See how cute this outfit looks from the back," he continues.

Your back arches off the plush surface. A physical stamp of approval on his plan.

"Gonna have you screaming so loud everyone there hears and knows what a good girl you are for your daddy," he breathes.

Leaning down, he removes a hand from your hip and brings it to cup your jaw. The pads of his fingers dig into your fleshy cheeks. Your lips puff out a little, begging for a kiss. He gives you a quick peck but never stops the ricocheting of his pelvis.

"You're so precious," he murmurs against your skin.

Meanwhile, his hips seem like their mission is to obliterate you down below. They ram forward and back, jostling your body on the bed. You can barely find the will to choke out "Daddy, daddy, daddy. Can I cum? Please."

Your voice is wrecked, even pitchier than before. He bobbles your head into a little nod with his hand. Your glassy eyes stay on him the whole time though. 

"Yeah, you can," he agrees.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you babble and fling your arms around him to keep him close. Not that he was going anywhere. He stays balls deep in you through the sensation of you tightening up and gushing all over him. Your walls flutter and squeeze. You writhe like you're possessed, and your eyes give that same impression as they roll back. Half-words spill from your lips begging, "Da- Plea- oh fuck-"

"Language, baby," he chides mockingly, his own tone growing strained.

You respond with total sincerity though. "'m sorry, daddy. Just- hnnngh- just feels so good."

"I know it does. Too much for you to handle, hm?"

You shake your head but the motion is so wild, it barely comes across as a declaration of disagreement.

"Use your big girl words, sweetheart," he coos. His desire tightens between his hips. He feels the familiar pressure and the way his balls draw up with the need to spill inside you.

"I can do it- ah!" you squeal, "I can take it. Just want daddy to finish inside."

His face falls down to rest in the crook of your neck. "If that's what you want, princess."

They're the last words he gets out before a groan rumbles in his chest. His release fires out with fervor. Spills into you in strong ropes. You sigh, eyes rolling back as warm satisfaction fizzles in your belly. The sensation melts you down from the whiny mess you had been into a boneless, whimpering puddle.

He pants against your skin. Hot puffs of air hit your neck as he starts coming down. Slowly, his cock slides out of you, popping out with a squelch. Two thick fingers find your hole and fuck the cum that was leaking out of you back in. You whimper at the intrusion to your sensitive cunt, but he smirks at you.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok, baby. We don't want any of this getting on your pretty dress, do we? Can't make a mess of it yet."

Your head bobbles in lazy agreement. He continues pumping his fingers into your soaked entrance while placing gentle kisses all over your face. 

When he finishes, he pulls your panties and his pants back up and then recedes to his knees again. He takes the heels from the bed and slides your feet into them. Taking care to make sure the strap is in place, he fastens the buckle on each and then lets them fall to the floor.

"Think you can walk in those still? Or did daddy get you too dizzy?" he asks.

"I can," you huff.

Pushing yourself off the bed, your legs wobble like those of a baby deer. You move across the bedroom, swaying a little but not enough to topple over and crash to the ground. He can tell you're waddling slightly, probably from the cum slowly seeping out of you again.

The costume looks gorgeous as ever with all the pieces put together. You readjust the tiara on your head and do a little spin for him before heading back over to the chair you initially pulled this dress from. You fish out what seems to be a basic wolf mask and show it to him.

"I got this for you," you beam.

His eyebrows raise incredulously. "I'm not wearing that."

You give him a look of your own, seconds away from stamping your foot. "Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Am not."

"Are too! You have to dress up, Charles already said!" you insist and bring the mask to him, "Plus don't you wanna match? It's like beauty and the beast."

He barks out a laugh. "Is that what I am to you? A beast?" he teases, pulling you close again.

"Well yeah, but in a good way," you grin.

"Hm. We'll see. I'll think about it," he says.

You're about to whine out a please, but he stops you with a kiss. He knows he'll be hearing tons of that for the next few weeks.

[chaoticace2005]

Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:

1. No drugs.

2. No fights.

3. No pranks.

4. No problematic language.

5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)

6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.

7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.

8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)

9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day

10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel

11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.

12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.

13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.

14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS

15. NO EATING PEOPLE

16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.

17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?

18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!

19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)

20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.

21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”

22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.

23. NO DEALS ALASTOR

24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.

25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.

26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.

27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)

28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.

29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?

30. No building weapons/war machines.

31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)

32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)

33. Stop touching people ANGEL.

34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.

35. Respect boundaries.

36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.

36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.

37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”

38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.

39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.

40. NO EXPLOSIONS!

41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.

42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.

43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)

44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX

45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!

46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR

47. Don’t die.

48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.

49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!

50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP

51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!

52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”

53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.

54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.

55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.

56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.

57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)

58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”

59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.

60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.

61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.

62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.

63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.

64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.

65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.

66. Therapy. Everyone.

67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!

68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.

69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.

[sweetblossomsss]

I’ll be back || CHOI SAN

Synopsis: You don’t understand what happened for him to suddenly disappear. You don’t understand why the police tells you there is no one by the name of Choi San— as if he never existed. You don’t understand why he came back to you, five years later.

WARNINGS: one shot, cursing, crying (lots), ANGST (my fav), fluff, happy ending, SMUT, rough sex, choking, pet name of baby to Y/N, drinking, drunkenness, throwing things, San was affiliated with a gang, Y/N owns a gun, oral (f receiving), mentions of San’s gruesome crimes, back and forth between Y/N and San (ish), Y/N take San back way too easily (lmao), throwing up (only once), I’m sure I’m missing some stuff just lmk. San's POV POSTED

Word Count: 12k Started: February 2024. Finished: Nov 29, 2024

Blossom’s Note: Hello my petals, hope all is good. Coming at you with a Choi San one shot. Title was inspired by 2pm’s I’ll be back (chefs kiss song). Story was inspired by both the song and the line in John Wick when the father told the son that in order for him to get out, he had to do the impossible. Please keep in mind that this is no where near the same as the movie nor will any killings be mentioned. Now grab some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!

PAST

Silence takes over the room while the distant, muffled voices of your neighbors outside your apartment speak amongst themselves in the hallway, radiating some noise in the room. Dogs in different apartments barked at them, alerting everyone in the complex that people are walking by. Soon the faint sounds of keys jiggling can be heard as they stepped into their respective home and then—complete silence.

The room was dimly lit by your lamp with a fading bulb on its last life—that you always forget to change. You laid on your stomach, resting your head on your arms that was propped on top of your cushioned pillow as you slowly kicked your legs up and down, staring into his eyes as if you were locked in a trance by his gaze.

His fingers traced caressing patterns on your back, making you bit your lower lip gently as you felt the goosebumps form on your skin. He was lying on his side, his hand propped up to hold his head as he other hand roamed your back lovingly.

He gives you a small smirk, nodding his head to signal you to get on top of him. “Come here.” He said in a low voice as he laid on his back, placing an arm behind his head to get a good view of you on top. His favorite view.

You felt giddy inside, smiling as you got up. You quickly threw a leg over, straddling him. He wasted no time in gliding his free hand from your thigh to your ass giving it a slight squeeze. You placed your hands on his chest for support to which he slide the same hand up your arm and cups the side of your face.

You two stare into each other, all mesmerized as he caressed your cheek with his thumb causing you to lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand radiating on your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said in a sweet voice. You opened your eyes to catch him already looking into your eyes. “I could stay in this moment forever,” he said watching you slightly turn to the side as you kissed his palm. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him as you ghost your lips over his, “Just you and me.”

Oh, the way your stomach flips at his words especially when he talks in a low tone. He removes the hand behind his head, placing both of them under your shirt wanting to feel your skin, scrunching up your oversized shirt a little bit from his caressing movements.

You hummed in agreement, “Just you and me.” You repeated, pecking his lips once, “Forever.” You said before leaning back down to capture his lips. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, wanting to feel you closer—if that was even possible.

You moan slightly into his mouth, feeling the kiss starting to pick up. He cups your ass, giving it a nice squeeze as you raised your hand up to his hair tugging slightly making him moan in delight. Just as this moment was starting to heat up and get spicy—“Let’s runaway.” He breaks the kiss.

You looked at him, he was panting slightly trying to catch his breath as his eyes gleamed a bit. You panted as you sat up, tilting your head to the side, “What?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows.

Did he really leave you hot and bothered to say some stupid shit? Leave it to San to cockblock the fuck out of the both of you with his random thoughts.

He sits up, adjusting himself underneath you as he wraps his arms around your waist again as your hands make home in his hair as you caressed it. “You heard me,” he said, “let’s runaway. Just you and me, mm? What do you think?” He said ask he peppered kissed on your neck.

You chuckled at his words, tilting your head more as he kept leaving kisses on your neck down to your collarbone, “what I think is that you’re dumb. Did you really stop us for that?” You laughed, reaching to cup his face as you looked down at him. He nodded, “I’m being serious!” He pouted at you.

You sighed. “Okay. Say we were to,” you say playing along with his idea,“where would we go?” You asked him, leaning down to kiss away his pout.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, smirking as he flips you onto your back causing you yelp in surprise. “Anywhere you want to go,” he grabs your legs, wanting to feel them wrapped around him, “Whatever you want,” He says leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “I’ll do it for you.” His kisses trail down to your jaw. “Anything you want.” Down your neck as he caressed your leg.

You licked your lips and slightly moan at the sensation. “Mmm, anything?” You asked him raising an eyebrow as you tilt your head to look at him. “Anything, baby.” He looked up from the crook of your neck.

You shook your head, “You’re so silly. You know we can’t do that.” You smiled at him but then turned serious, “Plus can you even afford me? I’m quite expensive.” You lifted your hand up, examining your nails acting all snobby like turning your head to the side.

He pauses for a second, sitting up. He scoffs, “Excuse me?” Hand on his chest feigning to be offended.

You looked at him and eyed him up and down, playfully judging him and shrugged, “I have expensive taste and demands that need to met.” You said crossing your arms.

“Hit me with whatever you want. I can afford it.” He extends his arms out to the side as if saying do-you-know-who-the-fuck-I-am.

You scoffed, eyeing him up and down, “I don’t want to work.”

“Done.”

“I want to be a housewife.”

“Done.”

“I want different color Lamborghinis to match my moods for the day.”

“Done.”

“I want a private chef. I want to be carried everywhere.”

“Done and done.”

You two stayed silent, looking at each other with a serious look before bursting into laughter. The laughter you two created sounded like the most beautiful music to your ears. You loved having these silly moments with him.

While the laughter subsided, San places his hands on each side of your head, leaning forward. ”Y/N,” He says, your hands slide up and down his muscular arms. “Let’s just do it, huh? We can go and get married,” He places a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “we can have six kids-“

“Six?! The fuc-“ you cut him off with widen eyes, raising both of your eyebrows.

“They will have your sparkling eyes, your beautiful smile,” he cuts you off, ignoring you which caused you to roll your eyes, “they can have my nose, maybe my eyebrows or ears. We can raise them the best we can, we can put them sports, watch them get married, travel when they all leave the house, be the best grandparents ever-“ he cuts himself off as he clears his throat, feeling a bit saddened, but you’re too distracted by his story to catch onto it. “We can grow old together and be buried next to each other. With that, we stay together forever.”

You cup his cheek, “Seems like you got this all figured out, huh?” You smiled at him. “How did a girl like me get so lucky?”

“Oh, baby,” he said in a matter of factly tone, “With me you won’t have to think or worry about anything.” He smirked at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it.

There was a moment of silence as you two looked into each other’s eyes all in love. But then San got off of you which made you confused as you furrowed your eyebrows. “San? What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his actions as his back faces you.

You sit up and sat in the middle of the bed, about to reach out of him but took your hand back abruptly when you saw San turning around and giving you a serious look. He suddenly gets down on one knee. “Y/N,” he said in a serious tone, causing you to cover your face as you fell back laughing, “San, what are you doing?” You asked him as you sat back up with a huge shock smile on your face.

“Y/N,” he repeats again. He inhales and exhales, closing his eyes before looking back into your eyes. “Baby the second my eyes laid on you, my heart knew that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I want to wake up and have your eyes be the first thing and the last thing I see. There aren’t enough words to describe the love I have for you.”

You feel yourself getting teary eyed as you scoff out a smile, not believing that he is doing this. “I know, I don’t have a ring right now, but trust me when I say that when I do get it, it will have the biggest gem that represents the immense love I have for you.” He said watching you sniff up your tears. “Will you marry me? Because I don’t want to do life without you.”

You gasped at his words, crying for a few moments before sniffing up your runny nose as you used the back of your hand to wipe your falling tears, “San,” your voice cracks out, as you placed a hand on your chest. “Yes!” You breathed out a smile, “Yes, I will marry you.”

He finally exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes?” He asks you as he broke out into the biggest smile ever and you nodded quickly, “Yes, San, yes.” You repeated as he helped you stand up.

He picked up, you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he spins you both around in his arms. You leaned your forehead against his, “You scared me,” he said, “What took you so long in answering!”

You kissed his pout, “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I had to make sure. You know I’m expensive.” You joked.

He gives you a deadpan look, “Really?” He said in a monotone voice causing you to burst out into laughter as you leaned your forehead against his again, cupping his face, “No, my idiot. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I’m going to marry my soulmate. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“You’re the one for me,” he said looking into your eyes. If you weren’t so high from the moment, you could’ve sworn there was sadness in his eyes. “I just- I don’t want to wait anymore.” He cleared his throat, “You’re the one for me, Y/N.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he repeated himself.

After a minute, he clears his throat, “Now,” he says as he tosses you on the bed causing you to yell in shock as you sit up and give him a glare. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere behind him as he spreads your legs, ignoring the pissed off look you have with a smirk on his face, “Should we start with baby number one? Or will we get lucky and have triplets first round?”

“San-“ he cuts you with the smirk still etched on his face as he kissed you. He knew damn well you were gonna bring up the topic of six kids, but that’s for another time. Right now, he wants to cherish this moment with you. Just one last time.

You hated how easily he captivated you and how easy he had you under his finger. Without trying to break contact with you, his hand struggles to turn off the light as he taps everything but the switch. He groans in frustration as he sits up and slams the stupid button off causing you to laugh at his impatience. Finally, the light was off.

As he leans back down kissing you, he is mentally tattooing everything about you throughout the night—your lips, your melodic sounds, your breathing, your heartbeat, your gentle and rough touches, your curves— Just everything before it was time.

—

It was late at night as San stood near the bed, watching you sleep. He was dressed in all black, prepared to leave but not before he says goodbye to you. The sheer curtains let the moonlight seep in, casting on your face. The light snores you made were music to his ears. It cause him to gently chuckle bittersweetly as tears blurred his vision.

He remembered all the times you argued with him saying that he was liar, telling him that you don’t snore. It hurt knowing this would be last time hearing them— last time seeing you.

He slowly and gently takes steps to you, leaning down as he removes a few strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, “I have to go.” He kisses your forehead gently, “I love you so, so much.”

He stiffed up a bit when he saw you stirring in your sleep but exhaled in relief when you stopped and went back to your light snores. He glanced at the clock on your night stand and read 3:00AM. It’s about that time. He looks down as he felt his tears coming in, “Please forgive me.” He pleads quietly, sniffing as he looks at you. “I’ll be back.”

One last kiss on the forehead and he slowly gets up and walks to the door. And just like a switch, he walked down the hall, sniffing up those tears as he moved his head side to side, cracking his neck as a more serious, deadly look appeared on his face as he disappeared from the apartment and into the night.

—

Ugh, you really have to change those sheer curtains that blocks absolutely nothing because right now the morning sun was shinning right in your eyes, stirring you awake. You leaned on your back, one arm covering your eyes while the other reached out to touch San but was met with a cold, empty side.

Eyes still covered, you moved your hand around to try and find his body but let’s be real, this was no California King size bed. Either he fell off the bed or simply, he isn’t here. You removed your arm from your eyes and turned to the side and confirmed that he wasn’t there.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly sat up, bringing the blanket to cover your bare chest. “San?” You called out to him. Maybe he’s in the living room. You waited for a response but nothing.

You sighed as you removed the blanket off your body, shivering slightly from cool air as goosebumps formed on your skin. Maybe he didn’t hear me. You grabbed your shirt from off the floor, putting it on as you walked to the living room. “Sannie?” But you were met with an empty living room—an empty apartment.

You removed your tucked hair from your shirt as you pursed your lips, crossing your arms, “This man is going to be the death of me.” You didn’t think much of it—well, kind of— San does this all the time. Whether it was for work or hanging out with friends— whatever it may be, it was normal for him to do. Yes, you have gotten into multiple arguments over it. Yes, he says he will try. But there are times that he forgets to tell you—like today.

You walked back into the room grabbing your phone, unplugging it from the charger as you tapped on the screen but no notifications. “Really?” You sucked the back of your front teeth, feeling annoyed as you shook your head. You unlocked your phone and dialed his number, running a hand through your hair as you hear the dialing tone.

“The number you have dialed-“ you sighed in annoyance as you hung up the call, opening your messages. ‘Thanks for letting me know that you were leaving :)’ and a ‘call me when you can. Love you asshole.” You sent to him, but it came back as message failed. Great, now his phone died.

You threw your phone on bed, “Whatever.” You say as you walked out the room and headed to the bathroom as you started to get ready for the day. Another great thing about San is that he is not the most dependable with his phone. His phone is either dead or lost between the sofa cushions. He truly can’t pick a struggle.

But you know what, at the end of the day you love him and all his aggravating faults, no matter how many times you want to strangle him. That’s your fiancé. Indeed it is. And it has you smiling like an idiot as you brushed your teeth, looking at your reflection. You guess you’ll keep him.

—

As the day went on, it was still radio silent on San’s part. You kept checking, calling, texting but it was to no avail. San may be dumb when it comes to how he handles his phone and where he’s going and whatnot but he never fails to call you and let you know where he’s at or how he’s doing—even if that means calling from a strangers phone. Yes, you were confused that one time a random ass number kept calling you.

You couldn’t help but get this feeling that something is wrong, so here you are pulling up to his job and checking to see if he’s there. You parked and inhaled and exhaled, keeping the nerves at bay as you grabbed your things and headed out of your car.

‘The Tire Shop’ came into view as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’s busy and you’ll forgive him for now and yell at him later. As soon as you opened the door, you winced a bit at the car drill radiating throughout the shop as you looked at the men working on cars.

You watched as a man passed by you, rolling at tire to a car he’s fixing on, having the smell of oil and sweat fill up your nostrils. You gripped your purse strap as you looked around to spot if San was talking with someone or working on a car but nothing.

You were too caught up scanning for San that you didn’t even notice an older gentleman approaching you. “Ma’am?” He calls to your attention as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag, removing excess grease. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, sorry,” you chucked nervously, stepping a bit closer to him. “Yes. I’m looking for someone. Is San working today? Did he come in?” You asked.

He tilted his head to the side, giving you his ear as he gets a bit closer to you as the drill goes off again, “I’m sorry. Who?” He yelled through the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

“San. Choi San.” You repeated a bit louder, leaning in slightly to his ear. “H-Have you seen him?” You stuttered a bit, feeling nervous.

“Choi San?” He repeated with confusion in his tone, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry but nobody of that name works here.” He said shaking his head, tucking in the dirty rang in his back pocket.

You froze, feeling your blood go cold. You let out a nervous laugh, “That’s impossible,” you said reaching into your purse and showing your lock screen. “He’s been working here for five years.” The man squints his eyes, adjusting his poor vision to see the photo of San. “Are you sure?” You asked him in disbelief.

He nods his head. “I’m sure, ma’am.” But seeing the desperation in your face, he sighs turning around to yell out to one of his coworker. The coworker stops and gives him a stank face of what-do-you-want? The man asks him if he’s heard of a Choi San working here but the coworker just shook his head, getting back to work.

“Well, there you have it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The gentleman asked you as your heart dropped.

—

You slammed that door open as you rushed out, fumbling with your car keys in hand as you made your way to the car. You slammed your car door shut as you gripped onto the steering wheel, “What the fuck is going on?” You asked yourself, with a shaky breath, hearing a high pitch ringing in your ears.

You looked at your purse that was still clinging onto your arm. You quickly opened it, rummaging through it as you searched for your phone, messing up password multiple times as you rushed to unlock it making you groan in frustration.

“Come on come on.” You whispered to yourself as you dialed his number waiting for him to pick up but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you threw your phone on the dashboard.

You leaned your face into your hands, feeling anger and confusion swimming in your mind. Are you going insane? What the fuck does this man mean that he’s never heard of a Choi San? You start to get flashbacks of when you dropped him off, him literally coming out of the shop, having lunch with him right outside on the benches— Just what in the fuck is going on?

Fuck this. You backed out and drove to the police station. You knew San like that back of your hand. From small details such as calling or texting, even if he doesn’t do it in the moment, he NEVER forgets. And now you’re being told that he has never worked there? For the past five years? Bullshit. Something bad is happening and you sure as hell aren’t going to waste anymore time.

—

You were spaced out thinking about the whereabouts of San as you sat in-front of a desk, waiting for an officer. You gnawed on your lower lip, bouncing your leg rapidly from the nerves. “Miss Y/N?” Your head snapped to the side to see a female officer approaching you with a comforting smile and water.

You stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Officer Lee.” She gestures to the seat you were in, “Please, sit.” She places the cup in front of you, mumbling a thank you to her as you took a sip of water.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” You tell her as you adjust yourself in the seat. “I just didn’t know what else to do and I just- I don’t-“ you felt overwhelmed, losing your words.

She reaches over the table and places a comforting hand on yours. “It’s okay. You did the right thing by coming here.” She smiles once more, removing her hand to grab a pen and opening her notepad. “Why don’t we break down your day today. From when you woke up to now.”

You nodded as you inhaled and exhale. You quickly got to work. You told her how you woke up and he wasn’t home, how he’s basically irresponsible with his phone, how his job all of a sudden tells you that he doesn’t work there. You also mentioned every single detail of San. From his hair to physique, his full name, date of birth, no family, all of his habits, photos of him—you didn’t even forget to mention how just last night he proposed to you.

Throughout this Officer Lee was jotting down everything you told her, asking some questions to expand on certain things. “And that’s everything I know.” You sighed in exhaustion, sniffing as you wiped some tears with tissue paper.

“It was perfect. You gave us all information possible to make this a clear and proper search.” She nodded as you as she closes her notepad and placing her pen down. “I know this is tough for you, but I can assure you that we will do our best to figure out what happened.”

You faced down with your eyes closed. “What if I’m being dramatic? But at the same time what if something happened to him? I just don’t know-“

“Listen to me,” She cuts you off. “You know San better than anyone. If you feel that something is off then something must be off, okay? Plus, one doesn’t suddenly not work at a place he’s been at for five years.” You sniffed and nodded at her.

She stands up, which causes you to also stand up, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “In the meantime, go home and continue with your regular routine. I know it’s easier said than done, but please try. We will handle the rest and keep you updated.”

You nodded and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much Officer Lee.” You tell her. “I very much appreciate it.” And with that you made your way out the station, pushing the door as you stepped out into the breezy night. You entered your car and leaned your head back, feeling a sob coming out once more. Where did you go, San?

—

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months since you last saw San. Every single day you call the police to get an update but it was the same fucking vague answers. It’s as if they rehearsed the same lines over and over just for you. You felt as if you were past the point of insanity.

All you just want to know is if San was alive or not. You just want to know if there was a single trace of him anywhere in this damn world— just something. All you just wanted a peace of mind.

Here you go again, on the phone with Officer Lee, who quite literally has the patience of an angel with the way you be calling everyday—some days with more attitude than usual. “Miss Y/N, as I have said before,” she sighed, “I don’t have anything. I will call you when-“

“When you have an update.” You finished the sentence with her. Today, you just so happen to have that attitude. “I know. I just-“ you cut yourself off as you sighed and rubbed your forehead, walking back and forth in your living room.

“I just want to know if you found anything. Even is that anything is so small, I don’t care. Just anything please.” You begged her. “Like why would he lie to me for the past five years about his job? Why would he propose to me and envision this life with me only for him to leave?” You asked her on the verge of tears, exhaling a shaky breath.

These are all the same questions you’ve been asking her for months. You sound like a broken record at this point, but what can you do? You never thought this would happen to you. Deep down you know the only one who can truly answer this was Choi San.

Officer Lee rubs her forehead, staying silent as she listens to you. She too feels heartbroken for you. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, sniffing. “I’m just desperate. I feel like I’m going insane. It’s been months and there’s no update. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” You vented to her, feeling your heart slowly break apart.

There was a long, long pause on the phone as you cried. Just as soon as you were going to ask if she was still there— she spoke. “Y/N, listen to me and listen closely because this will be the only time I will be mentioning this.” Officer Lee looks at her surroundings and figures there’s too many people so she heads to a vacant stairway.

You froze at her words. Her tone sounded completely different. “I’m not allowed to speak about this, but I can’t keep letting you live like this.” You froze at her words, “There is no record of Choi San.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out feeling completely confused as you shook your head in confusion. “A few months back, I was able to find something on him. Just a small trace of his location. He was seen walking around town, nothing too suspicious. But,” she pauses. You feel your heartbeat in your throat, “the following day when I went to check the video surveillance once more, it was gone. Wiped off. When I went to search him up, it said that there was no record of Choi San.“ She said. “It’s as if he never existed.”

Your heart dropped, you felt the room spinning. “Wh-What?” You managed to let out, “As if he ever existed?” You repeated her words in disbelief. “What? Why would anyone do that? Why would that even happen?”

Officer Lee looks up the stairs to check if anyone was coming and below before leaning her back on the wall. “Can I tell you something?” She whispered into the phone. She can sense the overwhelming feeling of hurt and confusion.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears falling down your face. You bit your lips, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes?” You answered quietly, feeling your fear taking over.

“As someone who has been working in this industry for a long time, it can only mean one thing,” she says, “this man was involved in something very dangerous.” You felt your knees give up as you held onto the sofa. “Whoever this Choi San is, he disappeared for a reason.”

“Who is he? What has been done?” You asked frantically, feeling the hairs stand behind your neck. Who did I lie in bed with?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. Truthfully, she did not know. She knew that this was not the first time someone has just up and disappeared off the Earth. She knows that there are some evil deals made behind closed doors with the police department.

“Why would he do to me then? What am I supposed to do?” You asked her choking out a sob as you angrily wiped that tears off your face.

“If I were you, I would leave.” She said serious. You were taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t know this man. He is not the man you thought you knew. Trust me. Please. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

You felt numb at this point. What else can come in and ruin your life at this point? “I will call you if I have find something. Until then, please take care of yourself.” And with that you heard the hang up tone, leaving you alone once again.

You stood there in silence, dropping your arm down along with the phone. The sound of the phone hitting the floor rang in your ears. San? Dangerous? No. It can’t be. All of these thoughts rapidly came at you at once, making it seem like a million of voices are in your head.

Soon everything just went blank and something within you snapped. You went to the fireplace and hand swipe everything off the counter, screaming in anger. You cried in misery as you grabbed a picture frame and chucked it to the wall, watching the glass shatter at the impact.

You swiped everything off your dining table, flipping the table in frustration. His absence only worsen the betrayal you felt within your fucking bones. You stood in the middle of the living room starting to laugh. Laughing hysterically as tears dwelled in your eyes.

Everything you knew for the past five years was a lie. A waste of time. Your laughter subsided to agony as you fell to your knees, unable to control this painful heartache. You sobbed uncontrollably as you clutched onto your chest wanting to take this unbearable pain out of your heart.

Fucking San? A dangerous man? The same idiot who was afraid of flipping food over because he was afraid of the hot oil? The same idiot who would drink water from his hands because he was lazy to get a cup? The same idiot who wanted to raise a family with you? No. This can’t be happening.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on the floor as you leaned on them for support as your body shook from your cries. It hits you in that moment if he knew what he was asking when he asked you to runaway. All that you envisioned is gone, just like him.

—

It’s later in the night, and you’re in your kitchen drunkenly stumbling on your tippy toes as you kept your balance to reach into the top cabinet for yet another wine bottle. You finally reached it, popping open the bottle and pouring more in your glass. You take a sip as you close your eyes, feeling this temporary relief soak up in you.

You grabbed the bottle and turned to face the living room, eying the mess you created earlier. You’ll deal with it later, you thought to yourself as you took another sip, walking through the mess as you headed straight to your room.

You sat on your floor staring into the open closet with swollen, bloodshot eyes. You took a sip feeling your eyelids getting heavy from the crying and the alcohol. You placed the cup down, grabbing the bottle and poured some more wine without taking your sight off his side the closet.

Judging from how you heard the cup filling up to the brim, you stopped and placed the bottle down. You sighed as you licked your lips. Well, might as well start moving his shit out. You drunkenly got on your knees and crawled to the closet and sat on your knees.

You reached up and yanked off one of his shirts from the hanger, watch it swing from the harsh pull. You brought the material up to your nose, inhaling it. Though your nose maybe be stuffy from the crying, his scent was so strong. You bring it up to your cheek, wishing it was his touch— his warmth.

You opened your eyes to a blurred vision. No, no tears right now. You turned around and reached to grab your drink and took a few sips before placing it back down. You slowly stood up, feeling the liquor rushing down your legs as it controls your movements. Let’s start with something different.

You reached out to the top of the closet shelve, getting on your tippy toes and grabbed a stack full of boxes and miscellaneous things. But with your wobbly drunken self, and horrible grip, you ended up dropping it on the floor, causing you to yelp out as you moved back.

You opened your eyes and looked down to see that you spilled your drink and broken the glass, “Oh, great.” You pursed your lips, “Glad to see that I’m not the only one broken.” You say, making a half-assed joke. You sighed as you got on your knees and collected some of the big pieces. Thankfully your floor is carpet, all you have to do is wet-vac it.

You started to dry off some of his things but was stopped when you saw a black briefcase with a gold lock embedded on it. “What is this?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you grabbed it and used your hands to take off some of the wine droplets.

You sat comfortable and brought it the case closer for you to examine the lock. It was a four digit code. You grabbed your wine bottle, taking a big swig of it before you went to work on this lock. You bit your lower lip in concentration as you tried multiple combinations.

Shit, you even did the good ole 1, 2, 3, 4. Now listen, in your defense, while on one hand you can kill San, or whoever that man is right now, you always laughed at him for having the most basic password ever—to which he would get offended each time. So you couldn’t help but try it out at least one time.

But, man, you were stumped. Plus it doesn’t help that you were drunk so give yourself some slack. You take a sip and groaned out loud, “What could it even be..” you thought out. You then gasp as you quickly grabbed the case and placed in those four digits. Your birthday. And with that, it clicks open.

You scoffed out a smile, “Really?” Of course he would. “Stop it.” You scolded yourself, shaking your head at yourself. You exhaled, trying to calm the nerves. You slowly opened it, eyes widening at the sight of documents. But these weren’t just regular documents— these were gang afflicted documents.

Your drunken eyes roaming all over, you grabbed the papers out and stacked them, pushing the briefcase to the side. You then start to spread out the documents in front of you, eyes widening as they captured specific words.

You get on your knees as you further spread them out. You then fall back on your knees and parted your mouth in shock at the view in front of you. These documents were filled with gruesome attacks of people, some described chilling events that took place, plans of ambushes, details reports of deaths— you felt sick. What you take notice is that whoever wrote all of this, must’ve been so numb to the brutal killings that were executed.

You then notice a familiar signature at the bottom of the paper. “Oh my god..” you cover your mouth in shock. It was his signature. He did this. You dropped the paper and picked up the previous papers to only confirm what you had in mind. All of them had his signature. He did all of this.

You then turn to the side and saw orange envelope that was filled with what you could imagine more information. You grabbed it and opened it, but dropped it as you turned to the side feeling as if you were going to throw up. You coughed as you felt your throat closing up as you leaned on your hands for support as you hunched over.

“Oh, what the fuck!” You coughed out. Never in your life did you expect to see most nastiest, gruesome photos of bodies. You laid in bed with a freaking monster. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked back the photos you dropped.

You panted heavy as you picked a photo with San standing in the center as men surrounded him all shirtless. You looked closely and saw a snake tattoo that started on their ribs and to their chest. You then had a memory come in when you asked San about his tattoo but he shook his head saying it was nothing, how he thought it was cool when he was younger.

The look casted on San’s face was a rough looking demeanor that contradicts the San you knew—but then again everything did. You dropped your hand with the photograph still in your grasp as you spaced out for a second trying to process everything.

Officer Lee was right. You just didn’t want to believe it. You looked down as took in the gruesome that were spread out. You saw all the violence San created—all the blood, guts, chopped off body parts, one with San smiling over a body. You couldn’t contain it anymore and struggled your way to the bathroom, having the walls be your support as you made it to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You can’t believe what your life has become.

—

PRESENT TIME, 5 YEARS LATER

"Alright, my little munchkins," Your voice full of warmness, "It's almost time to go home, let's start cleaning up!" You say to your first grade students as they in unison yelled out "Okay!" You heard the little chairs squeak against the floor as they got up preparing to leave.

They chatted amongst themselves as they worked together. You moved through the room, helping and guiding them when they had questions on where certain things go. As years have passed, you slowly rebuilt your life. You took joy in being a Pre-K teacher. The laughter and smiles from the kids help shed some light in the darkness that was roaming around you.

The kids eagerly grabbed their backpacks and jacket, helping some as you made some jokes with them causing them to giggle. They were filled with excitement knowing it was time to go home as they bounced in a file line by the door. You opened the doors seeing parents waiting outside.

One by one you watched as they left, the crowd of students getting smaller and smaller. You sighed as you closed your classroom door, stretching your neck. You organized the classroom some more, pushing in chairs, sweeping the floor, collecting left over materials and putting them in their respective place.

Finally, time to go home and shower the day off. You grabbed your purse, turned off the light and headed out the room. You lock your class room door and sighed as you take your hair out of the tight ponytail, running a hand through it.

For some reason you felt someone looking at you which made you look across the street to see a man all dressed in black standing still as he looked at you. You slowly subsided your steps, looking at this figure but with the sun and tall silver fence that wrapped around the school, it was hard to adjust on the face.

You watched as they slowly walked away, your gaze never leaving them until they are fully gone from your view. Well, that was fucking weird, you thought to yourself as you picked up the pace to your car, looking behind you every few seconds.

—

For five years you have done all that you could to forget Choi San and started anew. You blocked out everything you two shared. The memories, the empty promises, the relationship you two had—everything. You packed up your shit, got rid of everything that was San’s, and moved states. You changed your number, email, deleted any form of social media and accounts— you name it and it was gone.

To say you weren’t terrified would be a bold ass lie. You were petrified of the things San has done. Most importantly, what he could do to you. You were scared of him finding you. When you feel yourself slipping up, yearning for his love or him, you remind yourself of the deadly things this man did. He has no right to stay in your heart.

But we digressed. You slide the shower curtain open causing the steam to swirl around from your sudden movement. You bring your hair to the side, wringing out the excess water, and then slowly stepped of the tub carefully to not lose your balance. You dragged the towel off the rack and pat your self dry before wrapping it around you.

Tucking the excess at the top to make sure the towel doesn’t fall, you walked to your mirror and hand wiped the fog off. You started off with your nightly routine, wanting to just go to bed from all the exhaustion you had today. But just then as you spat out your toothpaste, you heard a faint creaking of wood in your living room.

You looked at the door and froze, feeling your heart quicken a bit at the sound. Maybe it was the upstairs neighbors. You shook your head as you opened the faucet and wiped the corners of your mouth. Maybe I just made the sound up.

But then the creaking noise comes back. You turned off the faucet, gently placing your ear and hands against the door, waiting for it once more. It’s silent—but you aren’t taking any chances.

You slowly pushed yourself off the door and crouched down to your sink cabinet. You quietly opened it and reached in and grabbed the gun that was attached to the roof of the cabinet. When you moved, you decided to arm yourself as a form of protection.

You stood up and cocked the gun back. Your free hand wrapped around the door knob, inhaling and exhaling before slowly opening it. The creaking of the door opening added to the eeriness of the silence. Goosebumps formed on your skin as a gush of cool air from the hallway hits your skin.

You raised the gun up while your other hand supported it from underneath as you walked down the hall. The mist leaving the bathroom was conforming with the fresh air, disappearing behind you as you made your way down the hallway. Your steps thudded as you got closer, faint sounds of water droplets from your hair coming in contact with the floor.

You quickly turned the corner, scanning the living room as the gun followed your eye movements. Your breathing filled up your ears as your eyes moved quickly to every shadow or movement you suspected was something, which only added to your adrenaline.

Then finally, the creaking noise made your ears twitch and this time it was clear where it was coming from. You pointed the gun to the kitchen, tightening the grip. “Show yourself.” You commanded, voice full of anger.

Soon a man slowly emerges from the dark shadows with his hands up. Your eyes widened for a second but you kept your composure, “Who are you?” A slight shaky tone gave away the fear coursing in your body. All you saw was his body as the darkness covered his face.

Slowly he dropped his hands, standing still. “Answer me.” You demanded, heart beating up to your ears.

And with that he takes a step forward and with one look at the face, everything comes crumbling down. “S-San?” You gasped in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of him, mouth parting.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. Oh my god. “It’s me.” It’s really him. The voice you longed to hear after five years. The person you missed desperately. The person who was your forever. He held his gaze with yours as he walked to you.

You felt your arms slowly dropping as you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe he’s here face to face. You want to hold him—wait— “Don’t fucking move.” You tell him as you quickly regained your composure. He freezes at your words. He is not the person you thought you knew.

“Y/N,” his voice broke, eyes full of sorrow. “Please. I know I fucked up.” He tries taking a step forward. Fucked up is an understatement.

“Don’t fucking move!” You yell at him, taking a step forward, gun pointed at him causing him to take a step back. “I’ll shoot you.” You tell him.

His eyes widen at your words. “Y/N,” he whispers as tears start dwelling in his eyes. “I know you’re upset, but please let me explain-“

“Upset?” You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You fucking asshole. You ruined me! You hurt me in ways I didn’t even know was possible.” You spat at him. “You left me. No— You disappeared. Come to find out you’re nothing but a sick piece of inhumane shit murderer.”

“Let me explain, Y/N. It’s not what you think.” He tells you as he takes a step forward to you. His heart drops at the way you look at him. He knows the damage he has done. He knows that it might be late to salvage whatever is left but he would be damn if he gives up to easily.

The two of you moved around in circles in your living room. Him wanting to hold you, to feel your warmth and to explain everything but you wanting nothing to do with him as you moved away from him. His voice broke as he spoke, “Baby, please-“

“Don’t!” You cut him off, feeling the hot tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to show up five years later and try to make up for all the bullshit you put me through.” You tell him as you two finally stopped moving.

You watched as he cried, looking in pain. “Leave. Never come back. You’re five years too late, asshole. I want nothing from you.” You tell him angrily. There was a pause of works between you two, all you could hear was the cries. Your vision blurred by your tears as you stared into his regretful eyes.

San couldn’t contain it anymore. He walks up to you, making you gasp in shock as you walked backwards, bumping into the wall arms still extended out. You felt a slight push from the gun when its cold metal was pressed on his chest. “I have killed men.” He starts to explain what you saw in the photos. “Those men you saw in the photos have done most vile, disgusting things to people. Things that would keep you up at night.” He whispers at the end.

He clears his throat, “Let me explain,” he pleads. “Let me explain and then I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you ask of me but please, Y/N…”

You fucking trembled as you let out a sob. He sighs in relief as he raised his hands, enclosing them on yours as he gently removed the gun from your hands. You don’t even fight it, you just hug yourself. He removes the ammo and cocks back the gun watching the bullet jump out, dropping the gun to the floor.

The thud made you jump back, wishing the wall would engulf you and would disappear. Slowly he raised his hands to your shoulders, causing you to look away in fright. You swallowed your nerves as you stiffened a bit, feeling his hands rising up to cup your face, making you turn to face him.

He leans his forehead on yours, sliding his hands from your face down your arms, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles. He places your hands on his cheeks and leans into your touch, let out a shaky sigh of relief. Enjoying your warmth, missing your touch.

You stood there as you took in his gentle gestures. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you fucking missed him. You missed everything so much, but can’t fall for this. You removed your hands from his touch and looked at him in anger. He fucking left you.

You shoved his chest with all your force, watching him stumble backwards. He looked at you in shock. There was a moment of silence before you walked up to him and started pounding him on his chest, hitting him as you released everything you’ve been suppressing for the past five years.

“How could you do this to me?!” You screamed at him. “Who the fuck are you? Why would you come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” He stood there, taking it from you knowing that he deserves this and more.

You slapped him so hard across the face, making him almost lose his balance. “Okay,” he said groaning out in pain as he adjusted his jaw, feeling that burning sensation. “I deserved that.”

You shoved him once more. “I gave you everything.” You told him, panting heavily. “I fucking loved you. You were my everything. We were going to get married and have this life together.” You cried to him. You placed your hands on your head, feeling as if you were going crazy, “I just want to know why.” You shook your head, “Why, San?”

“Baby,” he tells you and you just close your eyes not wanting to hear the pet name he had for you. “I-“ he tried finding the words. “I was involved in something that I never, ever wanted you to find out. I know, sounds hypocritical considering you found the documents and pictures and for that I’m sorry. I genuinely forgot to take the case because- because-“ he sighs as he shakes his head, cutting himself off to change the topic.

You stayed quiet as you looked at him. He sniffed, “I have done terrible, terrible things.” You watched as he looks down and then back up to you, “But I had no choice.” He tells you as he got closer to you, grabbing your hands as he brings them to his lips once more “Part of what I did was something I needed to do in order to get out.” He places a kiss on your hands, looking at you. “In order to be with you.”

You wanted to stay silent. You didn’t want to know but your curiosity betrayed you, “What-“ you let out a shaky breath, “What did you have to do?” You said quietly.

He leans his forehead on your hands, not being able to look at you when he confesses. “In order to get out—to show my loyalty to them and to prove I was done with that life— I had to kill very important people.”

You took your hands from his grasp and looked to the side as you covered your mouth, not being able to look at him. “Oh my god.” You whimpered out.

“Baby, please, it was the only way for me to get out of this life that I didn’t even want to be to begin with.” He says, searching for your eyes. “But that was the only way for me to survive. Once I was in, there was no easy way out.”

He cups your face and wipes your tears, “But when I saw you,” he lets out chuckle with tears streaming down, “I’ll never forget when I first laid my eyes on you. I knew from the bottom of my heart I wanted to be with you,” he looked into your eyes, “I did what I did to be with you. I would do it a thousand times over for you. Because I love you.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as he kept going on. “I left because I wanted to live a free life from all that shit. I left because I wanted to live in peace with you. Listen,” he cups your face, making you look directly at him, “the men I killed deserved all I did. They have hurt innocent people. Woman, children, Y/N, they don’t care who it was. Scumbags like that deserved to be punished.”

He fell to knees, placing gentle tender kisses on your thighs. “I was so, so afraid of losing you that I hid everything from you. I fucked up for not telling you but I was just trying to protect you.” He cries out as he leans his forehead on your thighs.

He wraps his arms around your legs, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry for all the misery I have caused you. I promise you, I was done. But-” he fumbled with his words, “But someone informed me that they were looking for me to get revenge. To get back at me for all I did to those people.”

He looks up at you, “And I just—… I could never live with myself if they killed you.So I decided to just leave and disappear before they found you with me.” He caresses the back of your thighs as he leaned his forehead once more on your thighs. “I thought it would be better this way. I paid off the men at my job to lie to you if you showed up. I threw my phone away. I had all of my records cleared off the database. I just couldn’t risk anyone having single link of you from me. ”

Your sobs filled the room as you take in all his words. This man who went from your lover to a stranger to now you being conflicted. You watched as he stood up, cupping your face once more. “For the past five years, I never once let you out my sight.” He confesses.

It then hits you. “Was that you today?” You asked him and he nodded.

“It fucking broke me watching you from the distance but please, Y/N, understand it was for your protection.” He tells you.

You held onto his wrists, “San,” you licked your lips as you closed your eyes. “I just- I don’t know what to think or what to do.” You sniffed as you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why now? Why now after all these years did you decide to come back?“

“I’m free,” he whispered to you, “I took care of everything.” He tells you and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you gulped. “Listen to me, they deserved it.” You remove his hands, feeling sick as you remembered the photos and documents.

He sighs in defeat. “Y/N, the things they have done to others,” he shakes his head, “it’s indescribable. What I did to them isn’t even half of what they have done.” That makes you feel even more in shock. Those photos and detailing was already horrible enough, you can’t imagine what they did to others.

You looked at the floor thinking. Does it kind of make you feel better that San basically did justice in killing bad guys? You don’t know. Are you trying to make an excuse? You don’t know. But one thing is certain, you were afraid. You looked at him as you let out a shaky breath, “Would you ever… hurt me?” You hesitantly asked him.

You saw as his face broke at your question. His heart dropped at your words. “What?” He whispered out. “I would never, ever do such a thing to you. You’re the love of my life. The reason I woke up and did what I did for the past five years just so I can be with you again. Y/N you changed me for the better.” He grabs your hand and placed it on his chest. “This is for you.” He says as you feel his heart beat, insinuating that it beats for you and only you.

“The man you saw in the photos and read in the documents that’s not me anymore. I gave up that life for you. I wanted to change for you. I love you, Y/N, believe that.” He pulls you to him as he cups your face once more.

You planned to never see San ever again in your life. As a matter of fact you wanted to kill him if he ever came across your way. But now listening to him and him explaining, granted he needs more explains to do, you can’t help but fucking want him again in your life. You fucking missed him.

You let out a whimper. “San,” you say, “I hate you so much. I hate that I missed you. I hate that I still love you.” You squeezed his wrists. San lets out a sad chuckle at your word, “I hate myself too. I hate for leaving you and for hurting you.”

You softly hit his chest once as you cried, not having any strength left in your body. You looked up at him, “Are you going to leave me again?” You asked him with tears in your eyes, in a broken voice that was full of pain.

He leans his forehead on yours, “Never. I will never leave you again.” You felt his rough hands roaming up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. You bit your lower lip—fuck. It’s as if nothing has changed for the past five years. You just give into him so easily.

You looked into his eyes, love and lust swirling around. “Please,” he said lowly, as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Let me take care of you tonight.” He places a kiss below your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He trails kisses down your neck, “How much I’ve missed you.” He hovers his lips over yours.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction from his touches. You slightly nodded as you looked into his eyes. He leans in and captures your lips, you melted into his touch. He wasted no time in picking you up causing you to wrap your legs around him.

You gently tugged his hair as the kiss started to heat up. He glided a hand up your back, tugging your head back by your hair as he trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You let out a moan when he starts sucking on that sweet spot. You look back down to him and kissed him again.

“Mmm, where is the room?” He broke the kiss, panting slightly as he catches his breath. “Down the hall.” You whispered, panting as well.

—

He burst into the bedroom, both of you still in the heated kiss, closing the door with his leg as he walked and threw you on the bed. “San!” You yelped out in shock. You sat up as you clutched the towel that still covered your body, giving him an angry look as he hovers over you, “Don’t do that shi-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers to you, gently pushing you to lay back down on the bed, “I’ll be careful, okay?” He whispers in your ear, kissing below it. Bullshit but okay. Nice to know that something’s don’t change.

He sat up as he takes off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him as he leans back down to kiss you. You unconsciously roam your hands all over his muscular arms, squeezing them as he grinds his clothes hard member against your bare throbbing, achy pussy.

His lips slowly moves down and stops at the top of your towel. He takes his forefinger and slowly drags it from your lips down to neck and between your breast. He never once took his eyes off you as he slowly unravels your towel. He looked at you as if you were a meal—starving and craving you for the past five years.

He leans down and latches onto your nipple while massaging the other one causing you to arch your back as you clench you pussy onto nothing. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose as his tongue flicks your harden nipple. He switches from one breast to the other.

He trails the kisses down your stomach making you inhale and exhale at his trailing wet kisses, making you excited for what’s to come. He gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your legs as he drags you closer to him.

He places your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs as he eyes your glistening pussy. His hands caress your thighs up and down. “San, please.” You begged to him, turning your head to the side in desperation as your chest heaves at his actions.

“Shh, baby, just relax.” His hot breath hovers over your throbbing area, making you clench once more. “Let me handle it, okay?” He asks you and watched as you nodded frantically causing him to smirk.

He then sucks on your clit, slightly hollowing his cheeks from the suction as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. You let out a moan as he lays his tongue flat, moving his head up and down. You gripped on his head, using your free one to grip the sheets. The sounds of suction adds to your pleasure.

He reaches over your thighs, spreading your folds wasting no time to fuck you with his tongue. San swears this is the most beautiful state he has seen you in. Screaming as you arch your back, unable to deal with the pleasure as it takes over you.

He moves his tongue in and out your hole, feeling you clench around him. He moves his tongue all around your folds before going back in. He then freed one hand and uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Shit.” You breathed out turning your head side to side, gasping.

He freed his other hand and sticks in two fingers, curved upward, moving at a medium pace. “O-Oh!” You moaned out, throwing your head back as your mouth parts in delight, “Ri-Right there!” You gripped the pillow on either side of your head.

He continues the rubbing and fingering as he looks at you. His cheeks hurt but he doesn’t fucking care. “I missed you so much baby.” He said in a deep voice, “I’ve dreamt of this everyday for the past five years.”

He places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Can you cum for me?” He asked you before getting back down. He quickens the pace, sucking the lower half of your clit as he uses his thumb to rub the top part rapidly, adding pressure to it.

You screamed out his name as a mantra. “San! San, I’m going to cum!” You said as you looked down at him before throwing your head back. You clamped his head trapped between your thighs, feeling your orgasm building up. You fisted his hair as you breathed heavy.

“Shit! Shit!” You say as you screamed out as you reached your orgasm. All the built up emotions just released in that moment as you felt like you saw stars. You breathed out uncontrollably as he help you ride out your high with his fingers and mouth. Your shaky legs let go of the grip it had on his head as you tried collecting yourself.

He stands up and removes his pants and boxers in one go, watching you all fucked out on the bed. His member was leaking with precum, eager to feel you and to fill you up all deliciously. He hovers of you, getting between your legs, “You okay, baby?” He asks you.

“Yeah,” You breathed out as you lazily wrapped your arms over his neck, “That was amazing.” You lazily smile which caused him chuckle. You pull him to you, kissing him as you tasted yourself on his lips.

He pulls back, “Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded at him, “Yes.” You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves to his hand to align himself, both of you remaining eye contact. You closed your eyes as you feel his tip going in and then him full stretching you out. He drops his head down, feeling the tightness engulf him.

He takes a moment for you both, taking in the sensation. You can’t help but to clench down at him, enjoying this longed for feeling. He slowly starts to thrust back and forth, biting his lower lip. “Oh.” You moaned out in pleasure and a slight stinging pain from the stretching.

He kisses your lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He comforts you through the slight pain. “Are you gonna take what I give you?” He asked causing you to flutter your eyes open at him.

“Anything you give me, I’ll take it.” You nodded at him. As soon as you gave him the permission, he puts his hands behind your knees, moving them up to the sides of your head. He starts pounding in you causing him to groan out in delight as he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

The position made you feel his rough thrusts deeper causing you to scream. The bed frame started hitting again the wall from how hard he was going. “You like that baby?” He asked you looking back down at you.

“Ye-Yes-s!” You managed to choke out. Your tits bounced from his actions as you tried finding something to grip onto, feeling overwhelmed. You then let out a gasp when you felt him dropping your legs, turning you to lay on your stomach.

He drags your hips up, quickly inserting himself back in as his hand forces to arch your back. He smacks your ass which makes you moan out, loving the stinging. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” He says. You adjusted yourself on your arm as you reached out and rubbed circles on your clit. The rubbing makes you clench on him, “Fuck,” he moans out, bed creaking underneath you both. “Fucking love when you do that.”

He then grabs a fist of your hair, pulling your head back. You whimpered at the pulling as he smacks your ass again. You whined as you bit your lower lip, loving how his balls smack against your clit. “You’re mine.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, hand sliding to your neck, squeezing it. “All mine.”

“All yours, San.” You say with the little air you have in your body. You then leaned forward when he lets go of you, gasping for air. But you have no time to compose yourself as he turns you around one last time, laying you on your back.

“Cum with me.” He tells you, rapidly thrusting into you. Your hands reached to his back, scratching it deeply as he rubs your clit. His balls hitting your ass as he tries chasing his high, letting out a low groan.

All the sounds from skin slapping to the bed frame legit about to break added to the electrifying atmosphere. He reaches up and holds your jaw in place, “I'm gonna cum.” You tell him. “Me too, baby. Cum with me.” He tells you as he leans down and kisses you.

A few more strokes and you both are moaning into each other’s mouths as you both came at the same time. He paints your walls white as his hips movements slowly starts to subside, riding out both of your highs. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavy. Hot, sweaty sticky bodies in each other’s embrace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his sweaty hair. “I love you.” He tells you as you feel the vibration in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” You tell him as you stare off to the ceiling, slowly closing your eyes as you felt the exhaustion take over, caressing movements subsiding in his hair.

—

You wake up with the sun shining in your eyes. You scrunched up your face as you turned away from the light, reaching out to feel San. You shot your eyes open when you didn’t feel him there. No, not again. You sit up straight, looking at the empty spot. “San?” You called out, looking out the door way— nothing answers you back.

You remove the covers off you hastily, ignoring the overall soreness in your body as you walked to your drawer grabbing underwear and oversize shirt. You quickly put them on as you walked out the room, “San- Oh.” You called out once more as you walked down the hallway but stopped abruptly in your steps.

All your overwhelming emotions flushed away when you saw San cooking in the kitchen. “Ah!” He screamed out in pain when a small drop of oil jumped onto his skin. You covered your mouth when you saw how he was standing— body arm length away, hips pushed out, completely away from the pan as his arms are extended out. One hand holds a fork and the other holding the handle of the pot.

Through the sizzling, San heard your chuckle, causing him to snap his head towards you. “The stupid oil burned me again!” He said with a pout.

You sighed out a chuckle as you shook your head. “Let me do it, you big baby.” You said smiling as you walked to him. You take the fork from his hand and flipped some bacon pieces. He crossed his arms, “I’m not a big baby.” He said in a whining tone.

You snorted. “Sure.” You say, eyeing the bacon as you smiled. “You have the temperature too hig-“ You froze in your words when you saw a ring on your ringer finger with a huge diamond on it. How did you miss this big ass rock?

You then felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, lips kissing on your neck. You let out a shocked scoff as you felt tears dwelling in. “I told you I was going to get you a ring with a big gem on it.” He smiles into the kisses on your neck.

You turned to him with tears falling down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. “I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you so much more.” He tells you. “I promise I will make up for all my mistakes. You’re my life, Y/N. I will prove it to you.” He knows it’s going to take a long time before you fully trust him again, but this a first step for that.

After a moment of silence he grab your chin and places a few more kisses on your lips. “So,” he whispers which you hummed in response, “why don’t we start on those six kids, mm?”

You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off your chin turning to focus on the bacon. “We are not having six kids, San!” You tell him, giving him a glare over your shoulder. You looked at the bacon and smirked, “Maybe we will have them when you stop being scared over cooking oil.” You teased him.

He let out an offended gasp. “Excuse me?!” He put a hand over his chest. He pursed his lips as he hip bumps you out the way and sassily takes the fork out of your hand. “Watch. I’m not scared of some stupid oil.” His voice trembling through the fake confidence.

He flinched slightly when he sees the oiling jumping all over the place causing you to burst out in laughter. You placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his back. “Sure baby.” You say crossing your arms as you leaned back on the counter.

He then shouts once more , dropping the fork on the counter when the oil jumped on his skin. “Forget it!” He said walking away with attitude which made you stifle a laugh.

He stops in his steps and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. He walks to you, “What are you doing?” You asked him as you stood up, standing with your guard up. He bends down and throws you over his shoulder as he heads to the bedroom. “We can start with one.” He said as you yelled at him to put you down as he smacked your ass. You don’t see it but you two are smiling at each other’s actions.

THE END

[raestromboli]

𝒢𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒮 𝒲𝐸 𝐵𝒪𝒯𝐻 𝒜𝐼𝒩’𝒯 𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒯!

ᡴꪫ 𓂃 chris finally commits to a relationship! he swears up and down that he’s happy . . . but his girlfriend isn’t the reason why.

cw. ┊ 18+, not proofread, cheater!chris x milf!reader, smut, established relationship but not between reader, cheating, vulgar language, pet name usage, age gap﹙chris is 21, reader is 29﹚, gfs name is eve, persuasion, mild manipulation, cunnilingus﹙he eats it from the back﹚, spanking, backshots, overstimulation, creampie, y’all almost get caught, mdni.

⌗ the age gap between chris and r is not gonna align w the gf bc i feel uncomfy writing chris any younger and i am NOT gonna write the reader as an old ass woman 🤍 hope y’all get it

chris doesn't even have a damn clue on why he’s currently standing in front of his girlfriend’s mom’s residence when he knows his girlfriend isn't even inside the house.

though, all he wants is to see is her mom . . . her fucking mom.

it's kind of ridiculous, he thinks, how he has a crush on his girl's mom and calls her a milf in his head. he feels sick and twisted for even thinking of those lewd and perverted thoughts, but it’s almost addictive. you’re addictive. he really doesn't want to admit it, but chris was obsessed with comparing his girlfriend to you.

your curves, your pretty tits, your waist, your oh so soft thighs, and your lips. oh fuck, your lips. all he could think is . . . why couldn't your daughter take those features?

knocking on the door twice, the door immediately swings open to be met with your doe eyes staring up at him, worry settling in on them, "oh, chris—what’re you doing here, sweetie?" you pout sympathetically, noticing how chris looked so disheveled; hair sticking up in awkward places and little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, “are you looking for eve?”

chris decides to play innocent, nodding his head and pouting at you.

“‘m so sorry, honey. she just left.” your voice was so smooth and comforting. he could only imagine how you’d sound when you’re getting your back blown out by him.

he raised his brows, pink lips forming into an 'o' as an attempt to look oblivious, " o-oh, shit. my bad." he huffs out a nervous laugh, turning around to begin walking off.

"wait!" you suddenly yelled. if chris didn’t know any better, you might’ve sounded desperate.

he looked so flustered and parched, so the least you could do for the sweet boy was to nurse him back to hydration . . . right? when chris stopped in his tracks, you didn't get to see the wicked smirk on his face before he turned around, meeting your eye.

“yes, ma’am?”

you frowned, "please don’t go back out there. i know you walked over here, poor boy."

fuuuck, you’re so caring. it makes his dick hard.

you widen the front door and chris immediately gives in, grinning and thanking you while heading inside your home. he’s been in your house before, but something about being just the two of you, alone, made everything feel special. just thinking about it made him feel like a perv—he was getting off to it, though.

chris eyes you the whole time.

you make your way into the kitchen, leaning down as you open the fridge door and pull out a pitcher of lemonade. you’re completely oblivious about the two blue eyes that ogle at your tits, or your ass when you bend down. that just makes it funner for chris. you pour the liquid in a tall glass and slid it over to the boy who sat himself down on the kitchen island.

while doing so, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really all this way to your house.

“chris, did you really walk all the way over here? if you wanted to come over, you could’ve called me, sweetie. i would’ve drove you.” chris took a few seconds to answer, a little busy chugging down the refreshment. some of the liquid slipped past his lips and ran down his chin.

his adams apple bobbed as he finished the last of the lemonade, setting the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "yeah, sorry. i will next time." chris giggles lowly, eyes boring its way into yours.

you smile at him when you both went quiet, “do you, uhm, want me to call eve and tell her you’re here?”

“nah, let it be a surprise.”

you teasingly coo at him, a coy grin playing at your lips when chris meekly shrugs, “she’s so lucky to have you, y’know.”

that makes him smirk, “yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s your turn to act shy, crossing your arms under your chest nervously. you spot chris’ eyes traveling down your chest, but you don’t say anything.

“soooo, you don’t have a man or somethin’ like that?”

“. . a man?”

he shrugs again, but with more confidence. a cocky smirk plays crooked on his lips while he continues, “like, someone you can depend on?”

“i guess not,” you huff out a laugh, “i’ve been too busy raising eve that i’ve never really thought about that.”

oh, but you have.

it’s so wrong, so disgusting and immature of you, but you think about it . . with chris . . . a lot. of course, you just wouldn’t admit it. you pushed those thoughts aside before you could get too carried away.

“damn,” he purses his lips, “you ever get lonely?”

you playfully furrow your brows at chris, “that seems a little inappropriate to ask that about your girlfriend’s mother.”

“is it?” he smirks while sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, “i just wanted to know a little more ‘bout you.”

you notice the atmosphere change in just a second. it makes you nervous.

“what do you wanna know?”

“i dunno . . .” chris then shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you as he walks past you. his hands paw at your waist to move you aside, purposely grinding his bulge against your ass. he hears you suck in a shaky, deep breath and a grin blooms across his face, “would you fuck a younger guy?” he turns the sink faucet on, so he’s unable to hear the shocked gasp that slips past your lips.

“chris! that’s h-highly inappropriate!” your head whips over to your left to stare at chris in bewilderment, eyes widened like saucers and lips parted.

you watch chris turn the faucet off, wiping his wet hands on his jean clad thighs before turning to face you, “sooo, no?”

“i-i can’t answer that—“

“why not?”

he can’t be serious.

you scoff at him, your eyes straining a bit as you try not to stare at the obvious bulge poking from chris’ jeans. he leaned against the sink counter with his arms crossed over each other, looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust.

“please don’t make me say it.” you can’t even muster yourself up to care as you beg chris. you’re just hoping all this was just one of those wet dreams you’ve been having of him lately.

chris knows you won’t say it, so he takes the cake for you, “what eve doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

you feel more lightheaded each step chris takes toward you, the potent smell of his cologne invading your senses. he’s even more prettier close up—your head’s so fuzzy, “i-i can’t do that to her, chris.” you whisper.

“no?” chris’ sympathetic pout seems purely fake when his hard stare on you intimidates you, “you sayin’ you don’t want me?”

“chris . . .” you whimper softly.

“c’mon, say it. you’ll be my good girl, won’t you?”

you can’t believe how a younger man like chris could have so much power over you. his suave voice immediately makes you fold, along with his piercing gaze that leaves you cowering.

two hands wrap around your waist to pin you against the counter, his bulge pressing against your bare thigh.

“i . . i want you.” you managed to spit it out with chris pushing his body impossibly closer to yours, his chest smushing against yours and his breath fanning over your face. he smiles at you, and it almost seems innocent before he leans in and locks his lips with yours.

it’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone, let alone been with a man this close to you. so you expect chris to pull away and sneer at your sloppy motions, but instead he sighs in almost relief against your lips.

chris’ kisses are messy and uncoordinated, but somehow in the best possible way. he sucks on your bottom lip, whining nasally while he lets you explore his mouth. your lips are coated in a glossy sheen with his saliva when he pulls away, panting and staring at you with low eyes—almost like he was high.

“. . . you’d let me fuck you? hm?” he mumbles as his head lowers down to hide himself in your neck, starting to attack the sensitive skin on your pulse point immediately. that action makes you keen and paw at his shoulder.

“uh huh, please.” you whine desperately, your hand rising up to fist chris’ soft hair as he grazes his teeth against the bruise that started glooming on your neck, soothing the sting with a kitty lick. you barely recognize yourself; you’ve become so needy for your daughter’s boyfriend that you can’t even think about any of the consequences. and in some way, it makes the whole situation just seem better.

you don’t know how you’ve landed in this position, nor how you’ve ended up in your bedroom; you, with your face smushed against your pillow and your ass up high, kisses being placed all over your thighs. it’s been ten minutes since chris has had you in this position, soaked panties pooling at your ankles while he teased you everywhere except where you needed him most.

“chris,” you whimpered, lifting your head up to glance over at him from your shoulder, “please.” you both know what you’re begging for, but chris wants to hear it.

he wrapped his hands around your waist to maneuver you closer to his face and spit directly onto your drooling cunt, smirking as you squeal, “what do you want, then? tell me and i’ll give it to ya’.”

it wasn’t a lie that chris brought out the slut in you.

“i want your mouth . . and your fingers.” you whined quietly, pouting while you wave your ass around when the throbbing in your clit started getting unbearable.

your brain cancels out whatever comes out of chris’ mouth next the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, he gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. it doesn’t take him long to succumb his need as he dives in, tongue lulling out to lick a thick stripe from your clit and to your hole. a groan emits from him as the taste of you spreads throughout his tastebuds. it’s like your pussy was a drug. he’s addicted to you from just one taste.

you could feel his stubble scratch along your thighs as he eats you out with vigor, his chin and the tip of his nose slick when he practically stuffs his face in between your thighs.

“oh m’god!” you squeal against your pillow as chris wraps his plush lips around your puffy nub, sucking on it like a pacifier and humming like you were the best meal he’s ever eaten.

chris finds it so amusing how you responded to his touches. whether it’d be him grazing his hand across yours, or he’d be tongue deep in your pretty pussy. you’re so sensitive and he knows you’re just seconds away from coming undone, but he’s just getting started.

he’s so messy and sloppy with your pussy; letting you coat his face in your essence and groaning lewdly while he shook his head side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. he also lets you shake your ass in his face to grind your weeping cunt the way you subconsciously liked.

“chrisss,” you whined, gasping, “‘m gonna cum.” but he’s already one step ahead, hands holding your thighs done and pulling away to spank your ass.

“nah, you’re gonna hold that shit. i’m not done with you.” and when you start huffing and whining, you get another spank, but on your pussy. a high pitched moan slips past your lips at the sting, cheeks heating up as you hear chris chuckle behind you.

when your daughter’s boyfriend puts his mouth back to work on your needy pussy, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasp. why was chris so good at eating you out?

the knot in your lower stomach already starts forming when his lips wrap around your nub once again, thighs shaking around chris’ head as your orgasm quickly approaches.

“oh!—i can’t hold it. i-i gotta cum.” you huff nasally. you wrap your arms around your pillow and hug it tightly against your body, the motions on chris’ tongue gradually getting more calculated. and when he doesn’t respond to you, you take it as a sign to let go.

chris let his tongue circle your clit at a relentless pace before then he felt it; he heard you. a cry of his name. you coated his tongue, muscles clutching as your ass practically shook against his face. you were shaking—your legs couldn't stop twitching. if it weren't for his firm grip on your thighs, you wouldn't have been able to withstand so much.

with a final lick to your sensible core, he drew out a whimper from you. you had to reach out and push his head away when you started getting overstimulated.

it’s been so long since you had a proper orgasm, and you could barely take it. you’re whining under your breath as you try to come up from your high, face shoved into the pillow to avoid chris seeing you so slutted out.

a large hand comes up to cup your butt, squeezing the fat in his palm before letting go to give you a slap. he bites away a smirk when you gasp and look over your shoulder with a glare.

“think i’ll be able to fuck you better than men your age?” you know chris was challenging you, but frustration had been bubbling up inside you ever since his nonstop teasing.

you sneak a small smile at him, “maybe? i’m not sure.” and when you hear the shuffle of his zipper and his belt unbuckling, you couldn’t be too sure that you’d grow to be right.

“yeah, we’ll fuckin’ see ‘bout that.” he mumbles, scoffing out a small laugh as he strokes his leaky cock and huffing under his breath. chris uses his free hand to cup your waist when he thrusts forward to come in contact with your puffy cunt, his pink mushroom tip moving in languid motions over your sore nub. your brows pinch together at the feeling of his heavy dick being hugged in between your folds, so lost in the euphoria that you fail to hear your phone ringing until chris leans away to grab your phone.

“wha—“

a wicked smile forms on his face as he taps you on your shoulder, bringing the screen splayed out as your daughter’s name up to your face. when you lock your eyes with it, you gasp and hurriedly place your palms flat against the bed, shooting up and attempting to grab your phone from chris before he pulled it back from you.

“don’t answer it!” but it’s too late.

“hello? mom?”

your eyes widen as chris snickers quietly behind you.

“o-oh,” you clear your throat, fighting a small moan that dared to slip out when he starts to create soft, chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly backed your hips up against him, but you knew if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop, “hi—hi honey.”

“umm,” eve stutters out a laugh, “are you okay?”

your words get caught in your throat when chris reaches down to fist his dick and tap his leaking tip against your drooling pussy, squeezing your eyes shut as you pray that the wet pat pat pat didn’t pick up on the other line.

“‘course i am . . . w-why wouldn’t i be?”

“okayyyy, if you say so,” she snickers once again, “but could you facetime me? i want to show you this top i’d think you lik—“

“no!” and when there’s a long pause, you continue hurriedly, “sorry, baby. i just mean . . i can’t right now.”

“uhh, okay. i’ll just buy it for you some other time.”

“yeah. thanks, honey. i’ll s-see you later, ‘kay?” you tuck your lip between your teeth as chris uses his dick to play with your needy pussy.

“. . . sure? bye m—“

chris ends the call for you, throwing your phone somewhere across your room with a cocky smile.

he chortles, “jesus, you’re bad at lying. just tell your daughter you’re ‘bout to get fucked by her boyfriend.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow, “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

your eyes rolled—yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane. perhaps he was. who would even seduce their girlfriend’s mother anyway . . . ?

to be frank, you couldn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

you would find yourself with your ass perked up high in the air, arms folded over each other as chris mercilessly pounds into your sweet pussy, relishing in how you squealed and whined at the pure stretch and length of his cock. you’ve always known he’d be big; those grey sweatpants gave him no mercy on him, but to have him deep inside you, he felt so much more bigger.

“look at you, takin’ my cock like a big girl.” it’s ironic, considering how he’s almost a decade younger than you, but chris really was proud of you. the minute he started sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance, you were immediately running away and gasping that he wouldn’t fit. but with a little work, he’s got you moaning and all fucked out for him.

chris playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy, his fingers plucking the fabric of your tanktop and sliding it further, further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples. of course you just happened to not have a bra on.

“c-chris,” you moaned, body shaking and bouncing with every hard thrust your daughter’s boyfriend gave you. it’s so sudden—in just seconds, he’s had you with your back flush to his bare chest, his hand around your throat and your palms flat on your bed to fuck you impossibly deeper. you felt your back arch off his back and it didn’t take long for him to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper.

“feel good, honey?” chris mocks lowly against your ear, using a hand to cup your bouncing tit and lightly pinch your nipple. he wraps that arm around your torso to keep you steady before his free hand slithers down in between your thighs to catch your clit in his fingers. he rubs soft motion on your sensitive nub and immensely watches your face contort into something pretty and fucked out, “take this dick like a good girl, baby. c’mon, i know you can.” he groans against your ear.

he keeps fucking you like that until your arms give out and you can’t hold yourself up anymore, letting you hide your arms under the pillow and lay your chest flat against the bed. chris leans down to watch your sweet cunt swallow up his cock each time he pulls away, a creamy white ring forming on the thick base. he grabs onto the fat of your ass and smiles in awe as he gawks at the way you fuck yourself back onto him eagerly, your ass clapping against his pelvis noisily.

eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch—it was so erotic, the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for chris; the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again. to chris, though, it was purely music to his ears.

“chris—chris!” you cried out with a squeal, practically a warning before you tense up, hips rapidly twitching as you cum around chris’ dick. white floods your vision when he fucks himself into slower and deeper, letting you ride out your orgasm until you calm down and grow lax against his hold.

god, this was so wrong.

“fuuuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” chris groans as his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hole tightens around his cock. his release vastly approaches and just within seconds, you’re getting filled up to the hilt. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. he shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you slowly whined your hips to milk him for what he’s worth.

“atta girl.” chris purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he leans down to kiss you from over your shoulder. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of blue that looked like it had a story to tell . . .

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you both left your bedroom, you limping down the stairs with chris’ help. but what you don’t realize is how your daughter is already home, sitting down on the couch and busying herself with a movie.

eve spots you both with a smile, you and chris both scrambling apart with bewilderment sketched across your faces. she snickers at you.

“why were you guys upstairs?”

you glance at chris, who somehow had a solemn look on his face, and back at your daughter, “i, uh . . . i was showing him the bathroom.”

“oh . . okay. wellll, i bought you some clothes, i’ll go put them up in your room!” and then she’s getting off the couch, walking up to chris to cup his cheek and place a kiss on his lips. it momentarily brings disgust to you, but you swallow it down when he glances at you.

“you good?” chris chuckles under his breath.

you smile back at him, “. . yeah.”

you don’t know if you’re starting to regret it, or if you want more, but you don’t get more time to think it through when your daughter calls your name from upstairs.

“erm. mom? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff on your bed? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before chris nudges you to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s, uh, mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

eve giggles, “aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, feeling yourself break into a sheepish sweat before you let out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your daughter mutters, hearing her footsteps across the floor. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall—adding a followup of her yelling out her boyfriend’s name, “wait a minute . . .” and she glances down near the floor. “aren’t these your boxers, chris?”

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley returns home to good news and an exhausted wife. Making plans for the future is something he lives for now, but thoughts from his week in Fort Worth seem to linger.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, masturbation, oral sex, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Sweetheart," Bradley sighed. His heart rate finally calmed down after trying several times to reach you by phone. "How are you? How's the Nugget?"

You were quiet for a beat before saying, "We're okay." You did not sound happy, and it was probably because he'd missed several of your calls over the past few days. It wasn't like he meant to, there was just a lot of work and other distractions for him here. 

"Yeah? Not amazing?" He couldn't tell if your laugh was one of annoyance, so he plowed on as he stood from the steps outside the barracks, still sweaty from his run. "I'll be home the day after tomorrow, and then I'll take care of Rosie and everything at the house."

You sighed. "First thing we need to do when you get home is talk."

Bradley froze, brow creased in concern as his hand froze on the door handle. "About what?"

Another soft beat of silence. "We'll figure it out when you get back."

"Figure what out?" He didn't know if you were intentionally being vague, but it was irritating him a bit. "Can't we just talk about it now?"

"Shit." He could hear Rose starting to wail in the background, and it sounded like you dropped your phone. "Roo, I need to go. She had another blowout. I love you."

"I love you, too, Baby Girl."

The call ended before he got to tell you about his week. He was hoping you'd ask him about work, but you didn't even check to see if his first few days fully engrossed in his new role were going well.

You were either stressed close to your breaking point, or something else was bothering you. He went back inside to hit the shower, but his thoughts lingered even when the hot water streamed along his skin. Like there was something he was supposed to remember. He couldn't focus on any one thing, which was irritating in itself. He was ready to head home and get back to work in North Island, but he also wanted to make sure he left Texas with everything in order. He and the admirals needed to make their final selections tomorrow, and then he would know who would be joining him in San Diego in a few weeks.

In his opinion, there were ten exceptional pilots here that would be a good fit at Top Gun. Indigo and Rex were at the top of the list with very promising careers ahead of them, and Bradley was looking forward to eventually joining them in the air.

He really wanted to get home to you and Rose, but he had to get through a dinner in his dress blues first. The young pilots would probably be surprised when he finally joined them for a drink.

When he eventually got into bed, he looked through all of the pictures of his daughter on his phone. There were hundreds of them, which seemed impressive for someone just a few months old. Then he scrolled through wedding photos. And then honeymoon photos, not all of which were rated PG.

"Oh, I remember that night," he murmured to himself when he got to a beautiful collection of pictures of you with your ass in the air, looking back at him over your shoulder. "I remember it very well."

Jesus. You looked so good in these photos, it was absolutely insane. Even the PG ones were hotter than hell. But when you wore that red bikini? Perfection. And now he was hard and already searching for the video you and he made together many, many months ago.

He jerked off in the extra long twin bed, getting harder as he watched the recording of him spanking you and calling you his filthy slut. Then he came all over his abs, thinking about how many times he took you rough in his barracks room in San Diego early on in your relationship. When he thought about the Craftsman house he bought for you more than for himself, he couldn't stop smiling. You made it the first home he had since his mom died. And now he had a daughter.

Counting his blessings was pointless when he knew they all came from you. One more long day and he'd be home with his family. He couldn't stop yawning as he cleaned himself up, and he passed out for the night as soon as he was under the covers.

The next day was a flutter of activity. There was a classroom session in the morning that Bradley had to lead. He wasn't used to talking so much and actually found it exhausting. And everywhere he looked around the room, he could feel indigo eyes on him.

Then the afternoon was filled with flight analysis which solidified in his mind the pilots he wanted to select. After a quick conversation with the admirals when everyone else was dismissed, they were all in agreement.

Later that night at dinner, Bradley got to announce to everyone who had been chosen. There were definitely some unhappy expressions, but he was met with Indigo's smile as she shook his hand after the champagne had been served.

"Congratulations," he told her, juggling his champagne flute to his other hand. 

"Lieutenant Commander," she replied. "You'll have to let me in on the secret of the best bar in Coronado so I know where to hang out in a few weeks. You found the best one here on your own, after all."

He had to chuckle. He hadn't been back to that bar since his first night in Texas, despite the best efforts of some of the officers. "I have no doubt you'll find it without my help."

She released his hand, eyes roaming his face before settling on his mustache. "I'm sure I will. Are you sticking around for another drink?" she asked hopefully when he set his empty glass on a passing tray.

"Early flight tomorrow morning," he shrugged. "And I'm still not used to this time zone, so I shouldn't. I don't want to miss it."

She nodded once as he turned to leave, and her parting words stuck in his mind. "I can't wait to see you at Top Gun, Lieutenant Commander."

Bradley was going to have to keep an eye on her. He didn't want her trying to gain any sort of advantage over the others. Her gaze was warm on his back as he headed to the silent barracks alone.

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

The flight to San Diego was turbulent. You would have hated it, but Bradley slept the whole time like a pro. He should have spent the time reading his notes for work on Monday, but he decided it was more important to get a nap in so he could let you rest for the weekend. He had everything planned out on his mind, including making dinner tonight and taking Rose and Tramp for a beach walk tomorrow. That would give you sufficient time to rest.

He was expecting you to look worn out, but when he rushed through baggage claim to find you, he was still surprised by what he found. Rose was crying in your arms, and you looked on the verge of tears yourself. You were wearing one of his ratty shirts he reserved for days he was doing yardwork, and you had on his sweatpants which were rolled up and tied at your waist.

"Baby Girl," he called out, drawing your gaze to his. There was spit up on the burp cloth draped over your shoulder, and Rose seemed to cry louder the closer he got. "Are you okay?"

When you started nodding, it quickly turned into you shaking your head as he got close enough to wrap his arms around both of you. Bradley was immediately lost in the sweet smell of his daughter as he buried his nose against her fuzzy hair and inhaled. He let his lips trail soft kisses along her forehead before taking her from your arms.

"Tell me what's wrong," he whispered, kissing your lips. "Tell me so I can fix it."

He hushed Rose and kept his face close to yours as you cried softly. "Nothing's wrong. Or maybe... I don't know, Roo. I'm fucking pregnant," you sobbed.

Surely he'd misheard. "What did you say?" he gasped, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you in tighter as you cried and nodded. "You're seriously pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit." A dizzying smile curled along his lips. "Hell yes!" This was incredible news as far as he was concerned, but you were still crying as your face came to rest against his chest. Then his stomach lurched, because he'd missed several of your calls this week. You must have known for days as you'd been trying to reach him.

He bounced Rose gently in the crook of his arm, listening to her cries soften until she settled against him as well. "Sweetheart. You're not happy about this?"

Your tear streaked cheeks drew his lips as you looked up at him. "I don't know, Bradley," you whispered, voice harsh. "I just don't know what to think at all. I'm sure it happened in La Jolla, when I was supposed to be on the pill."

When your voice broke on a fresh sob, Bradley led you toward his duffle bag which had appeared on the baggage carousel, and he scooped it up seamlessly. Somehow he kept both of his girls close all the way to your red Bronco, his heart hammering the whole time. He was obsessed with his role as a father, and to him this was a best case scenario. He just needed you to understand how he felt about this.

After buckling Rose into her car seat, she was immediately asleep. Then he laced his fingers with yours, leading you around to the passenger side door, kissing your forehead.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he promised, tipping your face up to meet his eyes. "And I'd love another baby. Is this what we needed to talk about?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "This week was so long, and Rose has been miserable. And I could barely reach you on the phone, and-"

"I'm home now. Let me take care of my family." He let his hand trail down to your belly as he kissed you hard.

Once you were buckled in as well, you were sound asleep before Bradley had the Bronco out of the airport loop. By the end of the weekend, he would have your doubts about baby number two erased, replaced with the joy he felt over growing his family. 

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

You weren't sure how he managed to get both you and Rose inside the house without you waking up, but he did it. Hours later, you rolled over in bed, eyes cracking open when you heard Bradley playing with the baby in the living room. Your whole body ached from exhaustion, but it was your tender breasts that sent you to find them so you could get some relief.

The fact that you still didn't know how you felt about the positive pregnancy test now that Bradley knew about it as well just added to your fatigue. It was almost too much to consider at the moment. Another baby. Another smaller baby crying at night. A chorus of cries, and two babies spitting up.

When you found your shirtless husband laying on the floor with Rose giggling as she balanced on his chest while Tramp licked his face, you couldn't help but smile. He was singing a ridiculous song and tickling her sides. You felt guilty for being so scared about having a second child when you let your fingers rest on your tummy and watched him. He was a natural. Sometimes you felt like you were struggling through parenting, but Bradley made it seem so easy.

"I know it's a lot of responsibility for someone so small, but you're already getting your first rank promotion," he murmured, leaning up to kiss her cheek. "Big sister Bradshaw, you need to report for duty next year."

When you found yourself laughing, Bradley met your eyes and smiled. "How was your nap, Mommy?"

"I feel a lot better," you replied, yanking your shirt over your head, drawing your husband's gaze to your chest as you unhooked your bra. "How did you get her to calm down?"

Bradley looked a bit dazed as he stared at your bare chest. "The Nugget just missed me," he murmured, breathing a little heavy. His cheeks were tinged with pink as you reached for Rose to feed her. "Holy fucking shit, Sweetheart. We're having another baby." You nodded a bit helplessly, feeling so overwhelmed as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as you were sitting on the couch. "Two Nuggets," he said, petting Tramp as he stood. "And another year or more of my wife lactating."

You were dreading the weight gain and nausea and lack of sleep, but when he looked at you like this, it was hard to feel unappealing. Bradley's eyes were absolutely fixed on the beads of milk rolling down to your belly as Rose eventually switched sides.

"Can I have a turn when she naps?" he rasped, adjusting his gym shorts, absolutely unashamed. "It's been a week. I need it."

Soon enough, you had him in bed, practically curled up on your lap with his lips all over your breasts. "We're supposed to be talking about plans for another baby," you whispered, loving the scrape of his mustache against your skin. "I have a lot of concerns."

Bradley moaned, releasing you with a soft pop. "We can talk while I enjoy you," he promised. "What are you concerned about?"

He ran his nose along your taut nipple, and you moaned his name. "Bradley. One baby is expensive. How are we going to manage two? And we'll need to get another crib. And I have to make an appointment with Dr. Morris. And I can't believe you got me pregnant again while Rose is still a baby."

His lips grazed along your sensitive skin, and you were helpless to do anything but let your fingers thread through his hair. "What's so hard to believe?" he whispered. "We worked at it for months to have Rose, so this seems fair. And it's not like I can keep my dick out of your pussy. It was bound to happen whether you missed a pill or not." His tongue was warm as he lapped at you, his big hand splayed low on your belly. "I couldn't be fucking happier."

"Bradley," you gasped, back arching at his touch.

"We'll figure it out. I promise," he crooned. "Two babies. I'm so in love, Baby Girl. And you'll be nice and round again soon. Holy hell."

You didn't want to point out that your belly was still chubby and your hips were still round. Not when he was praising everything about you and the situation the two of you were caught up in. Two babies. Two. He was whining your name and rubbing himself against you, and next thing you knew, he had you on your back, legs flung over his shoulders. 

He ate your pussy, taking his sweet time about it while his thumb traced your tattoo. He drew out your orgasm slowly. His lips were latched onto your clit as his big hands kept you spread wide. "Missed you. Love you," he hummed, kissing his way along your slick. "Making me a Daddy all over again, Sweetheart."

"Roo," you whispered, keeping him where you needed him with your hands in his hair. "Daddy."

You came on his face, pussy needy and clenching at nothing before he shoved his cock inside you. The feral sound you made as your orgasm intensified, gripping him as he groaned and grunted in your ear, was loud enough to wake Rose from her nap. But you couldn't stop when he made you feel so good you nearly blacked out.

"I love you. And Rose. And our perfect baby we haven't met quite yet."

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

By the end of the weekend, you were smiling more. The naps you were afforded by having Bradley back home definitely helped, he could tell. But you seemed more at ease with the idea of two children close in age the more you and he talked about it.

"We have some options," he whispered, kissing you as you snuggled up with him on the couch on Sunday night. The episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was playing in the background, but he'd lost interest in it before it even started. "We can move Rose to the bedroom by the stairs, or we can turn that into nursery number two."

You crinkled your nose. "That's so far away from our bedroom."

"But we can't move Rose upstairs yet."

"No way," you agreed. "Maybe they can share a room?"

"Hmm. That would make it easier for Tramp to nap with both of them at the same time."

Your laughter made him feel so much better as he snuggled you closer. He could happily fall asleep like this until it was time to go to work tomorrow.

"Oh," you murmured, "I didn't even ask about your time in Texas."

Bradley immediately pictured startlingly blue eyes as you laced your fingers with his. "Was good," he replied, realizing just how much busier his life was about to become. A new role at work and a new baby. Students to teach and two kids at home.

"Tell me all about it," you murmured, stifling a yawn.

He found there wasn't much to talk about other than Indigo and Rex, and he didn't want to bore you. "Maybe I was a bit stingy, but I only invited ten pilots to come to Top Gun. Two will more than likely make it through the program. The rest... we'll see."

"Who are the two that will make it through?" 

Your yawns grew in intensity as you closed your eyes, and he knew you needed to get plenty of sleep. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose, figuring you would be asleep before he finished his sentence. "Rex and Indigo, but Indigo is the best."

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

Baby number two! The Nuggets are multiplying! Roo needs to keep his head in the game if he wants a happy wife. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 30

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[all-purpose-dish-soap]

29 / 2.1k / soap soulmate au, part 6

...

Ghost looks up as Soap storms out of the weapons closet.

"Still herself, I take it?" Ghost asks.

"She's a stubborn pain in the ass is what she is."

As expected. Soap misses the dry amusement that crinkles the corners of Ghost's eyes very slightly. "Didn't talk, then," Ghost says.

Soap scowls. "Not a goddamn word we can use. She won't listen to reason. Thinks she can face down an army. Dense, irritating--"

"Strong-willed," Ghost says.

"To a damn fault. Canny see what I'm trying to do for her. I'm-- she's--" Soap can hardly articulate his frustration. He's got this sick feeling in his stomach like he's been kicked in the gut hard enough to make him hurl.

It's not just you being too stubborn to give up the intel. What happens when you’re freed? You’re not going to stick around. What if Graves snaps his fingers and you go right on back to him?

Soap lets out a rough sigh. "There's more than Graves keeping her from talking. I don't like it."

"You've got a plan?" Ghost guesses.

Soap nods. "Aye. I need to talk to Laswell--"

"Done." Ghost produces a beige folder and drops it into Soap's hands. "Had her look into it for you."

"I'll be damned." Soap flips through the pages in the folder. "Christ. Bloody thin file." He fans the pages inside like a flipbook as if checking for extra pages. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Not much there to dig up."

"Then she's gotta be missin' some--" Something catches Soap's eye as he skims through, and he pauses, lingering on a photo.

Hell's fuckin' bells.

"Think that'll help?" Ghost asks.

"I'd wager so."

"Good. You goin' back in?"

"Aye.” Soap folds the file into his jacket and gives Ghost a good-natured fist bump to the arm. Then he brushes past him, knocking into his shoulder.

Ghost grabs Soap’s arm again before he slips past. "We don't have much time. Price wants to move on Alejandro. Says if you can't get the intel, we go in blind. Rodolfo leads."

Soap sets his jaw. "How long?"

"Three hours. Tops." He claps a firm hand on Soap's shoulder and turns to leave. "Get some sleep."

…

A moment later, the metal grate door slides open. You straighten back up and steel yourself again.

There's something different about the way Soap carries himself this time. He's not wound as tightly. But the way his eyes settle on you is... odd. The shift in his expression puts you on edge.

He sits down across from you. "We've not got much time. If talking gets us nowhere, we'll try something else."

You lean back, mirroring his posture. "You gonna torture me?”

“That what you’re expecting?”

“Maybe. You ever tortured someone before?"

"Aye. Can't say I care for it, but I know how if that's what this takes." He examines you again with that sharp gaze. You don't feel like he's undressing you with his eyes anymore. It's more like he's searching for something. "Why ask? You want me to put my hands on ya?"

You ignore the mental image that imprints. "I want you to waste your time."

Soap smirks. "What I wouldn't give to let you waste my time. You, me, all this animosity between us... I've got a few negotiation techniques I'd very much like to try." He leans back into the chair, his hands folded in his lap with an easy grin. "But you're no' the type to break under pressure."

"Better men than you have tried."

"Tried torturing you?" His grin tightens just slightly. "Anyone I know? Names, locations?"

Your cheeks heat up again. At that, for some reason. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can."

He produces the thin file and tosses it onto the table between you.

You look down at the papers that slide out. They're grainy and covered in redactions as if printed and bound, pulled from the deep end of some filing cabinet, scanned, rescanned, and printed again. But you glimpse your name. Your real name--the one printed on Johnny's skin, too. Your chest twists and your stomach sinks.

Soap sees the change in you and leans forward, elbows wide. He opens the file and pushes it across the table. "I'll do anything to protect you, darlin'," he says. "But I need information."

The file is everything you don't want anyone to know. But what catches your eye is that photograph. "Who else has seen this?"

"Me and Laswell. Maybe Ghost if he was feelin' nosy. Does Graves know?"

You pull on your cuffs, wanting to reach for the pages and push them away. "Captain Graves said he'd make this disappear."

Soap leans back, broad palm sliding out to touch the edge of the pages, and his expression softens for a moment. "Some things you can’t make disappear."

You look at him, twisted up with pain and anger. "So, what, if I don't talk, you're threatening to expose all this? Is that it? It won't work," you add with false confidence. "Captain Graves knows everything."

"What I want to know," Soap says, voice quiet, "is what he did with it."

"What?"

Soap leans forward again. "Did he threaten you? Did he say he’d make this go away if you worked for him, hold it over your head?"

"No!” you snap. “After this happened, I couldn't-- I was discharged from the military. I couldn't find work. He reached out to me. Said he didn’t mind if I had… history. Then he offered to have it scrubbed if I wanted.” You stare down at the papers. “He never threatened me. He helped me."

Soap lets out a breath. He was prepared to deal with something a lot worse than that. Maybe he hoped for something worse. If Graves were blackmailing you, the solution would be easy. He'd give you protection, offer to have Laswell erase that file from existence instead, CIA-style. After all, if Graves got his claws into you and onto his payroll that way, why couldn't he? Probably got you dirt fucking cheap, too. Bastard.

Part of Soap wants to press that angle. He could tell you Graves never intended to deliver on his side of the deal. But the truth is that Graves would've had little control over this. Seeing the state of the file, Graves likely did what he could to have it redacted, sealed, destroyed--but someone over his head intervened. Shepherd, maybe. There'd be nothing Graves could do.

Soap wants you more than anything, but the pain in your eyes when you look at these documents tears him up inside. He can’t manipulate you that way. Even if he got you to himself in the end, he'd never forgive himself.

"That's... that's good. He protected you." Soap crosses his arms, squeezing his fist hard around the object inside, the one he pickpocketed off Ghost a few minutes ago. Much as he hates Graves, the man kept you safe. But that's his job now.

"I don't care who you tell," you snap, suddenly full of anger and spitting fire. The sight of those pages puts you on edge. You feel like a cornered animal. "I'm not telling you a goddamn thing. Do whatever you want to me. You're no better than--"

"Am no' blackmailin' ya." Soap's expression sours. So much venom in that mouth of yours. He runs his thumb over his tightened knuckles to suppress his own temper. He's amazed at how easy it is for you to get under his skin, how you push all these buttons when he's the one who's supposed to be pulling the strings.

But he realizes how this must seem. You act tough, but you're vulnerable, exposed, and he has every reason right now to drive the knife in and twist it hard. Maybe he should. Going into the Las Almas base blind means danger for his squadmates.

Christ, he’s tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Darlin’, I... I know now you've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't change anything. Not to me, not to Ghost-- hell, none of us would bat an eye. You don’t need to protect yourself anymore. I need you to talk to me. We're out of time."

He thinks this is about you protecting yourself? You shake your head. "If you’re storming the Las Almas base, you're going up against Shadows. You're asking me to help you kill my own."

"If that matters to you, then tell me how to get to Alejandro without alerting the guards. Nobody has to get hurt."

You scoff, looking away. "There's no way to do that and you know it."

"We don't have to shoot them if they stand down first."

"That's not going to happen. They'll shoot you on sight. It'll be a bloodbath."

"Not for us."

You close your eyes. "I know. That's what I'm worried about."

Soap lets out a frustrated breath. "We're going in whether you talk or not. The blood's on our hands. Not yours."

You keep your gaze angled away, clearly not believing that. "I don't see why you care about security. I don't see why you need intel at all. This is what you're good at, right? This is what 141 does. You break in doors, you kill people."

Soap grips the edge of the table. "The only thing gettin' you out of here is information. I don't care what it is or if it's useful. Price wants intel."

"I don't have it." Your voice is flat and cold. Whatever you can do to make him understand you're not worth the effort.

He leans in and grabs your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. "Then lie to me."

"What?" You stare at him, feeling pinned under that intense gaze. "Are you fucking insane?"

"Might be," A small, sly, half-smile curves his lips. "I'm also desperate, runnin' out of time, and at the end of my rope after starin' at you this long, knowin' I can't have you." He runs his thumb along your cheek. "Maybe I'm bankin' on you losin' your mind before I do."

You swallow. "You'll be waiting awhile."

He smirks. His thumb moves from your cheek to your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. "Do you think you're a good liar?"

Before you can answer, someone bangs on the metal door, rattling it. Price's voice echoes in from outside.

"Get some sleep, Soap," he calls. "We're briefing soon. Give it a rest. We’ll press her for more intel after we’ve got Alejandro back.”

Soap tenses at the sound of Price's voice. "Wasn't planning on sleepin'," he calls back.

"Wasn't a question," Price calls back. You hear him walk away.

Soap withdraws his hand, letting out a soft curse.

"Why would you give your own Captain false information?" you hiss. "You could lose your job. You could get court-martialed. Even if it worked, what if Shepherd finds out? He's still in your chain of command."

"Guess that's a risk I gotta take."

"Then what if I tell you something that gets your teammates hurt, huh?"

"Won't happen. I'll be in the front when things get risky."

"Then how do you expect me to-- if it means you're the one who's--" You huff, words failing you. "You're so goddamn thick."

"Am I? Because here I am, tryin' to make plans and get a read on you, and all you wanna do is piss me off and run your mouth. I'm learnin' a lot." He tilts his head. "In fact, it's startin' to sound like you're worried about me."

"Absolutely not."

"Could always tell me the truth. Extra insurance if you do. Maybe it’ll keep me alive."

"You don't need it," you snap.

"I think I do." He leans in, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Got a bad feeling about this one. No Shadow worth their salt wouldn’t send us straight to hell if it meant finishing the job. Especially Graves."

You feel another pang of dread in your gut. He's right.

He watches you for another long moment. Neither of you speak.

Finally, he stands, sighing deeply as he goes to the door. "Alright."

"Are you coming back?" The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He pauses in the doorway. Then he turns back, staring at you like there's something he wants to say. He looks down at the stolen object still clutched in his hand--the key to your cuffs.

He opens the door, slipping through without another word.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / [part 6] / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[hoonvrs]

NOONA — p. sunghoon smau

PAIRING younger!sunghoon x older!fmr

SYNOPSIS park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.

GENRE smau, fluff, highschool/college au, crack, sunghoon having no shame

FEATURING ( enha ) all, ( aespa ) karina + winter, ( txt ) beomgyu + soobin, ( loona ) olivia hye

WARNINGS swearing, kys/kms jokes, friendly bullying, dick/sex jokes, sunghoon crying every other chapter ( more will be added if necessary )

STATUS complete

TAGLIST (CLOSED)

S. NOTE adding this note here to remind everyone to not spam like! it shadowbans my posts and lessens my engagement, enjoy <3

PROFILES loser lamo wannabe | WOMEN IN STEM (and man) | privs

CHAPTERS

01 | BLONDE JAKE HATE PAGE

02 | surprise shawty!

03 | what’s her name, quickly

04 | why’s he kinda…

05 | not a virgin anymore

06 | all da virgins mad😹

07 | do it for noona

08 | he’s out of line. let’s kill him.

09 | we both crode (+written 0.5k)

10 | you are scaring the hoes

11 | not living not laughing not loving

12 | she won’t me

13 | sounds sus…

14 | hey dweeb

15 | me n her are like this🤞🏼

16 | you wanna kiss me so bad

17 | i’m bathed in his blood

↳ extra: can you fight

18 | never beating them delusions

19 | what the actual fuck dawg

20 | you scare me sometimes

21 | what did you just call me

22 | hoes be mad

23 | gotta make mommy proud

24 | HES SO!:&:@2’d

25 | no comment

26 | the sexy six (+heeseung)

27 | y’all

28 | messy girls

29 | a little birdie told me

30 | i’m better than her

31 | BRING HER BACK🗣️

32 | heart brocken

↳ extra: ask me if i care

33 | i’ll understand

34 | I WAS A LITTLE EMOSH

35 | is it cause i’m too swaggie

36 | imma dawg imma freak

37 | y’all hear sumn😰

38 | ruh oh

39 | liverboy

40 | what if i was suicidal

41 | omg hes fucking french

42 | girl what

↳ extra: i can fix her❤️

43 | virgin with a capital P (+written 0.4k)

44 | in big 20 23

45 | kill you’reself

46 | i hate virgins

47 | we’re breaking up.

48 | the ‘park’ date (+written 0.4k)

49 | YOU CANNY TRICK MEH

50 | i’m gonna eat him

51 | not you lying on my name

52 | back up missy

↳ extra: deez nuts

53 | WELL THATS TOO DAMN BAD

54 | shut up 5’9

55 | /sad

56 | have some shame

57 | elimination

58 | do it No balls.

59 | past tense of see. seew

60 | CIC

↳ extra: random

EP1 | proof or it didn’t happen

EP2 | his ass is NOT studying

EP3 | #SNOWAPPDIE

copyright © hoonvrs 2023 all rights reserved

[dissvicious]

Alone in Wano - 1 / 2

A/N: it's been an eternity since I posted a fanfic here & I deleted the last one I posted here because I was too self conscious so words can't fathom how much I'm nervous right now lmao. No much content warnings but contain Wano spoilers, canon violence & also apparently it makes people cry. thanks @a-killer-obsession for beta reading, & @wyvernslovecake for letting me play dolls with Shriek ♥

Part 2

One month.

29 days.

690 hours or so.

Nina sighed, grunting as the baby kicks in her belly kept her from sleeping. She tried to change position in the uncomfortable futon discarded on the ground, to relieve the pressure her womb was applying on her guts - without any effect. She closed her eyes, and, as usual, images of what happened flashed in front of her eyes. Kaido falling in the ground at Ozzy’s birthday party, Kid refusing to submit, the beast pirates destroying the castle and locking everyone in the jails of their ships, sending them to Wano. Quincy, Heat, Wire, Hip, Papas…Thanks to gods, she didn’t see Shriek in the cramped cells. She must have locked herself in her room, just like Nina asked. She silently prayed for her safety and rolled on her back again, looking at the ceiling.

She hadn’t felt this lonely for a long time. Not since she joined the Kid pirates, in fact. She almost managed to believe that life was going to be ok, she almost touched that peace from the tip of her fingers, but Kaido took everything away from her. Nina rubbed her eyes, trying to chase the tears that threatened to flow on her cheeks. One month without Killer tenderly spooning her in her sleep. 29 days without Kid playfully grabbing her ass while passing by in the morning. 690 hours, or so, without passing her fingers through the soft fur of Shriek to untangle it.

"MAMAAAAAAA"

Ozzy’s tears took her out of her reverie. She sat up in the futon, and took the toddler on her lap, before opening her kimono to allow him to latch on her breast and take some milk. She passed her hand through her son’s pink hair, looking down at him tenderly. At least, Kaido didn’t separate them. She was so scared at first, when he discarded them to Orochi, saying that a pregnant chick and a toddler was no use for him. Nina wasn’t strong, she didn’t have any power, she didn’t have haki, and without her chainsaw, the only thing she could do to protect her heir would have been to run and sink her teeth into whatever neck presented to her. Thankfully, Komurasaki seemed to have pity for them and asked Orochi to keep her and Ozzy in her court, which Orochi accepted. Not that he seemed to be able to refuse anything to Komurasaki, though. Nina and Komurasaki immediately understood each other on this - Nina, too, had to pretend to like men for her safety in the past. And staying near the shogun, she could maybe learn a thing or two about Kid or Killer’s fate. Ozzy finished eating and she hugged him tight, seeking comfort in the scent of his hair. God, she missed her lovers so much. Ever since he helped her sober up, she had never been separated from Killer for this long. And as much as it cost her to admit, she missed Kid just as much. After years of being used and tossed away, she finally had a home, a family. She just wanted them back.

Loud screams coming from Orochi's banquet dragged her out of her spiraling. She put back her breast in her kimono and held Ozzy close to her chest, mother instinct going full mode as a little girl with a big grin and pink hair ran to her, crying, holding her close as to seek reassurance in her arms.

“Toko… ?” 

Nina bent down and managed with some effort to take Toko under the arm that wasn’t holding Ozzy, finding, by some miracle, space for the little girl, the toddler, and her big round belly.

“Toko… what happened?” 

Toko looked up at her, unable to answer, her breath cut by a burst of laughter. Nina bit her lip to restrain any reaction that could hurt the girl’s sensibility. Even if Komurasaki explained to her the whole shit about SMILE and its effects, she still needed to process that Toko could have a big grin or laugh, but still be sad, angry or scared. One thing for sure, the more she learned about Kaido, the more she wanted him dead.

As she was about to question Toko again, Komurasaki and Kyoshiro barged in the room. Nina's eyes went wide open and she stood up as she saw the blood on Komurasaki's clothes.

“The hell?” she asked. 

Komurasaki seemed to do great, though, and she walked in with a hurry to take Toko in her arms after changing into a discreet, more modest robe than her usual attire and throwing her jewelry on the ground. Nina turned an inquisitive glance to Kyoshiro who frowned at her.

“No time to explain. All of you need to leave the castle.”

“But…”

“NOW!” 

Nina frowned, sensing the urge in Kyoshiro’s voice. She nodded and, holding Ozzy close to her chest, she followed Komurasaki and Toko through a secret escape.

One month.

31 days.

738 hours or so. 

Nina’s eyes didn’t leave the hearth, fire crackling and flames casting a warm light through the little wood shed. Toko was sleeping peacefully next to her, holding Ozzy against her, her permanent grin not leaving her face. Nina looked up at the green haired  woman sitting across her, a protective hand on her belly.

“So what do I have to call you now?” Nina asked. 

“Hiyori.”

Nina studied her face. When they arrived at the secret hideout, Hiyori explained everything to her. How she was actually Oden’s daughter. How she was born on the Oro Jackson, a long time ago. How she had to watch her little brother jump forward in the future thanks to some time travel devil fruit, while her mother was dying in the flames. How a plan to take down Orochi and Kaido was in place, silently building in the shadows for the past 26 years. Once again, Nina met her eyes and a silent comprehension passed between the two women. They both experienced what true loneliness was, they both saw the ugliest face of men. At this exact moment, Nina understood why Hiyori took care of her. Seeing her alone with her baby, pregnant with the second, must have reminded her of her own family. 

“That’s not everything.” Hiyori said, a serious glance on her face. She bent aside and grabbed a newspaper on the ground before giving it to Nina.

Nina frowned and took the journal, and her eyes went wide in shock as she read. The news was about a pirate captain sent to Udon jail, and even if the picture below was only an ink drawing, she couldn’t help the tears flooding down her cheeks when she recognized Kid.

“I need to go there.”

“Nina…” Hiyori started to sigh, but Nina cut her off.

“No, you don’t understand!” 

She looked at Ozzy, still peacefully asleep in Toko’s arms, occasionally twitching in his sleep.

“His father… Ozzy’s father. One of them. He’s maybe there, I can’t-”

“Nina.”

Hiyori's tone was stern now, and Nina sighed, knowing already where the conversation was landing. Since Hiyori saved her, they had it on a daily basis. Nina sat down, putting a hand on her belly.

“I know, I know. I’m pregnant. I have to be careful.” 

Hiyori smiled softly, looking up at her with her big, soft eyes, and Nina smiled back. Both women looked at the fire in silence for a moment.

“I hope they’re doing fine.” Nina whispered, caressing her belly softly, where her little one was giving high kicks again. “I can’t live without them.” She cursed herself mentally for being so sappy. 

When did she become so sensitive? After the whole Perona disaster, she thought she was done with romantic bullshit. She was a tough girl, picking up fights in bars and sailing alone, surviving out of thieving and brawlings. She sailed for months, years maybe even, alone, and she held herself alone, even if she had to rely on drugs or sell her body to keep on going. But destiny made her cross paths with Kid pirates, and Killer saved her, and she allowed herself to fall in love again, and then she fell for Kid as well, and the crew adopted her, and she adopted them. And then there were the children, and soon she was surrounded by more tenderness and affection than she could handle. She wiped her tears. Fucking mood swings.

Hiyori seemed to notice her demeanor change, because she moved ever so slightly to wrap an arm around her shoulders, slowly comforting her.

“They’re alive. I would have heard of it if they were dead,” She whispered. Nina nodded, nuzzling against Hiyori's shoulder, closing her eyes.

“I hope so.”

Nina woke up the next morning, snuggled against Hiyori. She sighed in relief. It was good to feel the warmth of another human being again - well, an adult one. With regret, she withdrew herself from the green haired woman's embrace. She stood up and took Ozzy in her arms, cradling him tenderly. Behind her, the fire was dying slowly. It was cold outside, they would need to light another one, and there was no more dry wood left. She wrapped Ozzy in his carrier and tied it on her back. Hiyori would scold her for not resting but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to feel like a burden. She didn't want to feel useless. Hiyori had saved their life, the least she could do was to ensure her a warm room to wake up in. She walked out of the small cabin and closed the door behind her.

Nina was out in the snow, gathering some dry wood, when a deafening scream pierced the ambient silence. She jolted her head as she recognized Hiyori's voice. Without thinking, she put Ozzy in safety next to the wood carrier, wrapping her vest around him to keep him warm and safe, and ran to Hiyori as fast as her round belly allowed her to. 

Her mind went blank at the scene she was witnessing. 

Hiyori was hidden behind a green haired samurai who looked a bit like the mugiwara sword guy… Roronoa? She was shaking, terrified, holding Toko close in her arms. And in front of them…

This laugh. 

This blonde mane. 

Those icy blue eyes. 

Nina eyes went wide and without thinking, she ran to them as Roronoa was about to attack.

“NO!!”

She yelled, throwing herself between Roronoa and his opponent. Hiyori screamed, but Nina couldn’t care less, her focus on the laughing figure in front of her. Tears perked at the corners of their eyes and she took a few steps forward. At this moment, Roronoa didn’t exist anymore, Hiyori didn’t exist anymore, even Ozzy was far away in her mind. The only thing that mattered for her were those beautiful icy blue eyes piercing through the bandages. So soft. So familiar. The eyes that looked at her with adoration every morning and always managed to make her feel safe.

 She took a few steps forwards, wiping her eyes with a relieved chuckle.

“Killer? My lion?”

The blonde looked down at her, a grin plastered on his face. Killer didn’t usually grin without his mask, but after a month without seeing each other, he was probably happy to see her too. She took another step forward, still chuckling in relief. Killer looked down at her, immobile. She looked up at him with pure adoration and sobbed. 

“Killer, I'm so…” 

She froze when he suddenly arched back, letting out a loud burst of laughter. He laughed. Loudly. Killer laughed. In front of perfect strangers. In front of an opponent. 

Puzzled and worried, she held a hand to caress his cheek, an attempted comforting gesture, but before she could touch his skin, she was violently thrown in the snow, kicked in her belly by the wood of his scythes. She felt an intense pain bowing her in half, then, nothing. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was Killer's frame passing by her side as if she was nothing but an insect he brushed off his shoulder. The last thing she heard was his laugh fading in the distance, and then everything went black.

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

unused art for goretober

as mentioned in this post, i had a couple takes on this year's prompts that i ended up not using. so here they are, and most of them i still really like!!

Content Warning: blood and gore, nudity

day 10: horns. this was always going to be matt comforting tom and also a bit of backstory as to how matt knows tom likes horn scratches :3 buuut i realized it would take way too many pages and panels to make it believable, especially since this was supposed to be taking place directly after day 3: gashes. plus, monster tom wouldn't even let edd close enough to touch him after something like that, let alone matt. still like a lot of the poses here. i loooove my monster tom design <3<3<3<3

day 12: burning. i initially really wanted to do a more detailed, gory and scary piece for this prompt still based on matt catching fire in the sun. i was super busy that day though, so i decided to go with something else. still think this sketch kicks ass though.

day 13: headache. as you can see i got pretty dang far in this one. i knew i wanted it to be tord, but i ended up deciding this just didn't feel "headache-y" enough. even if i did add a blood splatter on the wall, tord's expression just didn't work with the prompt. i still like how this one looks, though, so i just came up with a new idea instead.

day 29: teeth. this is by far the one i had the most trouble with. i went through many sketches with my first idea (zombie tord obv), and didn't like Any of them. teeth are not easy to draw. i actually really like how take 2 looks (right), but it didn't really match the prompt... so i went looking through my past art with zombie tord and eventually settled on a panel redraw, which i fucking LOVE.

and finally, day 30: dinnertime. i had a lot more ideas for this one. i mean, c'mon, who doesn't love a little consensual cannibalism? <3 but i decided that something a little more symbolic with edd giving himself to his partners was the right way to go. and i really like both takes! the reason i didn't go for this one is because... yeah fuck that perspective. great idea, would be a HUGE fuckin pain to actually commit to. so i went for a similar but simpler idea that i actually think turned out way better than what i could've done with this idea.

anyway thanks for reading my rambles i love talking about my art

[hazbinshusk]

18 or 29 with blitz please🤍

prompt #29: a kiss to the back of the hand.

“How d’ya know ya won’t like it if ya don’t try it?” Blitzø insists, scurrying along at your heels. You sigh; he’s been bugging you for the last forty – you glance at the watch on your wrist – seven minutes about trying out his latest kink-of-the-week, and while his eagerness is kind of endearing, he’s starting to get on your nerves. Just a little bit.

“Satan, Blitz,” you roll your eyes, blowing past the others and making your way into the conference room. While Blitzø had absolutely no qualms about having these conversations in front of your co-workers and his daughter, you like to at least pretend you have some semblance of privacy in the workplace. “Would you let it go? At least while we’re at work?”

“Noooope!” he shakes his head. “If I do that, you’re gonna distract me and I’ll never get an answer.

“Damn,” you deadpan, flouncing into your usual seat. “You’ve seen through my insidious plan.”

Blitzø sniggers, rounding the table and wrapping the end of his tail around the arm of the chair. He tugs it, turning the chair towards him.

“C’mon…” he taunts, leaning over you, caging you in with a hand on each arm of the chair. “You know you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

You scoff, pushing him away, and you try and fail not to smile when he laughs again. He wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly and his smile widens when you do laugh despite yourself. You lean forward in your seat, hooking your finger under his chin and drawing him into a kiss. He melts into it, his tail waving happily behind him. You let the kiss linger for a few wonderful moments, your tongue sliding against his, before sitting back again.

Blitzø blinks, the punch-drunk smile on his face shifting into something more devilish. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

You roll your eyes again, exhaling an exasperated breath. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Well…” he draws out the word with a snicker, raising an eyebrow snidely. “There’s something you can do about that, isn’t there?”

You scoff, shoving at his shoulder before he grabs your arm and pulls you into another kiss. He pushes up against you, forcing your knees apart with his hips, cupping your face in his hands. You nip at his bottom lip, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom, the hint of affection, in his voice. “Ass.”

“You fuckin’ love it.”

“Do I?”

He smirks, pinching your thigh. “And I bet your ass that you’d get all giddy and cum hungry over this, too, you little tease.”

“Oh, for fuck… I never said I wouldn’t like it.” you say with a sigh. “I just… you could romance me a little, y’know? Instead of just blurting out your horny-ass ideas in the middle of Hellbucks at eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Ohhhh…” he drags out, raising an eyebrow in a way that makes you pretty sure that he’s entirely missed your point. “Why didn’t you say so…”

“Blitz, what—?” you ask as he lowers himself onto one knee in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. His eyebrow is still arched devilishly, and you feel yourself flush at the tableau he’s created between the two of you. You glance hastily over your shoulder towards the door. “Would you get up before someone walks—”

“Shh…” he hushes you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He lets it linger for a moment, his eyes holding yours. He smiles when you blush. “I’m doin’ a romance here, you sappy bitch.”

You choke on a laugh.

“Now,” he clears his throat, putting his free hand on his chest, the picture of a gentleman. “Will you, please, do me the honor…”

“Blitz.”

“Do me the honor,” he repeats pointedly. “Of wearing a fucking strap and fucking me in my ass?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[hypernova-writes]

Kinktober Day 29

[Double Penetration - Scout/Sniper]

"You're such a cutie when you're all whiny like this babe."

"Such a slut..taking both of us at once, 'roo."

"Ya doing so so good babe.."

Scout was laying on your bed, you were on top of him, your back was against you as his cock was nestled in your ass. You could feel it twitch as he was just waiting to move.

Sniper walks up, getting between your legs with a smirk on his face. "Mhm..you look so needy 'roo. You'll be able to take us easily.."

You blushed as Sniper readied himself, his cock laying against her inner thigh. You whines as she watches as he presses against your entrance before pushing in, slowly until he was buried to the Hilt.

You gasp out as the two of them were now deep and nestled inside of you, you squirmed as you wanted them to finally move.

"Mick..Jer..please.."

"Hmm?..what's that dollface?"

"I think our little Sheila wants us to move.."

Sniper starts moving first, slow thrusts that's were deep and in a rhythm. You gasp as Scout starting moving too.

You whimper as you lean your head back against Scout as they started to move in sync. You squirmed as it felt good, they were groaning as they had you sandwiched between the two of them.

"Don't she feel so good Scout?.."

You whine as you feel Scout's hands trail up to feel your breasts, playing with your nipples as he continues his motions.

"Mhm, fuck yea she does, our cutie all for us.."

"Mhm..skeep moanin' louder fa us 'roo."

Sniper leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth before backing away to admire the way your face would contort and how you tried not to get too loud.

Sniper looks at Scout past your head before smirking, you glare at him before they suddenly picked up their pace, making you nearly scream out, Scout held your arms, preventing you from covering your mouth.

"Nah dollface..we want da base to hear how good ya sound when ya moaning for your boyfriends."

"We're not stopping til ya leakin' from our cum sheila.."

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 28: Fingertips To Flesh

Content warning: Violence, murder, vomiting, blood, angst, light body horror (?).

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Slow Decline - Elsiane We Are Shadows - Kittie Changelings - Gazelle Twins

* * * * *

Chapter 27 | Chapter 29

* * * * *

Your ability has always come with its flaws. It’s not just that you hate using it or the sick aftermath it leaves behind, but that it requires closeness—skin-to-skin contact, your fingertips pressed against something alive—for it to work.

It’s a disturbingly intimate way to kill.

And now, it seems, you may have no choice but to use it once more.  

Each sedate step the armed Kasai takes toward you sends your mind spiralling for a plan—a way to slip past him, find your father, and end this before he flees.

But because of the cool weather, the approaching figure is well-covered, leaving only his hands, neck, and face exposed. You’ll need to close the distance without arousing suspicion and without giving him the chance to draw his weapon.

Charming him is out of the question—you’re sopping wet in blood, garment-tattered. You’re certain pieces of someone’s skin are tangled in your hair from your husband’s brutality. So, playing the damsel is your only option. You just hope Sukuna was being an ass when he said you’re a terrible liar—because you’re going to need one hell of a performance.

Sweat licking its way down your palms, you’re surprised when your gloves peel away smoothly. You tuck them into the back of your obi before letting your shoulders fall inward. With the man already halfway down the empty corridor, you take a breath.

Inhale.

At least being a woman, you can lean into everyone’s perceived helplessness of you.

Exhale.

“Please!” You stumble forward, pitching your voice higher to sound desperate. “You have to help me! The King of Curses, he’s—he’s killing everyone down in the main hall.” A hitch in your breath. A glance over your shoulder. "He’ll come for me next."

The smile on the man’s face reams up into a sneer, and he stops walking to take you in. His eyes carefully drag to your bare feet and then to the tattered hem of your garment before he laughs.

“And his wife, barefoot and blood-soaked, escapes without so much as a scratch on her skin? You must think I’m stupid?” He cocks an eyebrow before he continues walking, that one hand on the hilt of his weapon tightening.

Your mouth dries out.

Shit. 

Not the reaction you’d hoped for.

Stay calm. Keep going.

You take another staggering step and raise a hand to touch your chest to appear docile. Not a threat.

“I—”

Below, in your lowered vision, you catch on your fingers. Discoloured veins creeping from the fingertips to the knuckles just like they were last night in the rocky overhang. But you shove the worry aside, hoping the blood smeared all over you hides the unnatural hue.

Another step forward.

“I admit, I was lucky to escape,” you say, forcing a pathetic wobble into the words. “But I’m afraid for my life. He’ll come for me.”

Hopefully not.

“Please.”

Two more steps.

Closer.

Another.

You stop just within range—close enough that he could unsheathe and strike with his katana if he wanted to.

Then, suddenly, you can’t think.

Soft vibrations, followed by stronger tremors, roll along the floor and travel into the soles of your feet. There’s a surge of dark energy, his energy, a distant swell and then a dull boom that makes your whole body shudder.

For a moment, feeling it even this far away gives you comfort but is quickly chased down by a searing ache inside your chest.

When did it start to feel this way? This longing. It hurts. Too much.

Forget him.

Clinging to what could have been will only bring heartache. This is the right choice. Leaving Sukuna was the right choice. Because beyond this cage, these shitty walls, and his shrine is liberation and a life with your sister. Her promise to take care of you—something you’ve had little of and yearned for.

You cut your eyes to your shoulder as strong, unwelcoming fingers grasp around their curve, and the distant sounds of fighting are swallowed into the background.

“Fine. This way,” the Kasai grunts, his hand leaving his weapon only to drag you back down the corridor from where you came from. Not what you wanted.

“Shouldn’t we be going the other way?” You bite down on your tongue when your voice doesn’t sound as fragile as it should.

His eyes dart down to your face, letting them wander before his grip turns choking, making you wince.

“You’re safe with me,” he smirks, teeth and gums flashing while he drags you along.

Liar.

You get the feeling you’re not, and at this angle, your reach is off, no skin to tamper with.

Mind scrambling for a new plan. You remember your blade hidden inside your obi. If you can stab him, there’s a chance you can get away without needing to use your gift.

Maintaining pace with his long strides, you discreetly shift your hand to your sash, angling the sheath just enough to grant you better access while keeping it out of his line of sight. Your fingers slip inside, brushing over the hilt. Feeling the engraved markings, you steady yourself. Slowly, carefully, you begin to slide it free.

The man’s gaze remains fixed ahead, though his eyes flick to the side whenever the walls creak and groan under the constant rising pressure of Sukuna’s energy.

He’s distracted.

Now’s your chance.

Do what needs to be done.

Blade in hand, jaw set, you swing the weapon toward his abdomen and lunge.

The metal punches in. It disappears into fabric, through flesh, and sinks deep between the bones of his rib cage until the hilt meets resistance. Blood coaxes over your hand, and more splashes free when he frantically turns, releasing your shoulder and accidentally tearing open the wound.

“What the fuck?!” The man’s shriek contains such fury it feels like it punctures your skull.

Yanking the tantō free, you step back on trembling feet, pivot, and run in the opposite direction.

“You traitorous little bitch!” he roars from behind, voice rattling along the corridor. “Get back here!”

You don’t look back. You can’t. You keep running.

The blaze inside the floor lanterns dance and bend as you race past, your arms pumping wildly, breath tripping into the next.

You’re fine. Keep going.

Plunging down the vacant passage and nearing the corner, you’re nearly at the turn when another armed Kasai steps into your path.

Shit.

His brow furrows softly as he sees you coming, his eyes scanning your dishevelled form, landing on the bloody blade clutched in your palm. You realize he looks younger but bears a resemblance to the man you just stabbed.

“What’s happen—”

“Please!” you interrupt, stopping in front of him. You lower your weapon in a placating manner, though the tremble in your fingers is real. “You have to help me! The King of Cur—”

“Brother! Don’t listen to her!” Staggering footsteps thud close behind. “The lying cunt just stuck a blade in me!”

Your attention shoots to the younger man, eyes catching on his face as it flips through a wave of emotions—sympathy, regret, apathy… anger.

Anger.

A sibling’s anger. Lots of it.

You understand it too well.

A need to protect.

Before you can react, he moves, and his fist crashes into the side of your face.

You let out a cry of pain as firm knuckles crack into your cheekbone with enough force to send black spots spilling into your vision.

With a strangled cough, your hand slips, and you drop the blade to the floor, the clattering of it mingling with your gasping breaths.

“Don’t drop your weapon. It’s your lifeline. Without it, you have nothing—you’re dead.”

Uraume’s words tiptoe into your mind.

Agony pushes through your face as you drop low, crouching and blindly groping for the hilt.

But before you can grab it, his foot connects, kicking it out of reach.

The metallic rasp of a katana being drawn follows, cutting into the air. Then, the creaking of the floor as he shifts into a killing stance.

You tilt your head back, looking up at him.

But his hands tremble, hesitating—like yours once did with Sayuri.

This is your chance.

Do it.

Now.

You have to. You need to. Because if you don’t, you’ll die here.

It’s either you or him.

Him or me.

No. 

What did she say?

Everyone.

You roll your eyes forcefully upward and reach inward, clawing for the power you despise. It feels distant, like trying to grasp something buried in thick mud.

So much untapped potential lodged so deep within you.

But then, your grip catches. You pull it closer, feeling energy hum at your fingertips.

A dull recognition crosses the man’s face, and he starts to bring down the weapon.

Do it!

In a burst of speed, you dive forward, fingertips targeting the soft, exposed flesh at his throat where the panels of his kimono overlap.

The world shrinks to a single point.

Somewhere in the background, the injured brother shouts a warning, but it barely registers. For once, everything has gone so perfectly quiet inside your mind. All that matters is your hand stretching, reaching closer.

Closer. 

Closer…

Then, contact.

All that raw, solitary power, and it’s yours.

The weapon’s descent halts.

The man freezes, standing so still, it feels as if the world has paused. He blinks down at you, your bodies close, both locked in place.

Your eyes meet.

His face crumples in confusion.

“I’m sorry…” you whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

And finally, you release it.

There’s a pulse. Skin ripples. You pull back.

His katana clatters to the floor, and his hands tremble before clawing desperately at the spot you touched.

But it’s too late.

The skin darkens, turning mottled grey from the point of contact, spreading like an old stain.

He falls, knees buckling into the floor.

You know what’s happening below the surface—his insides rebelling, twisting, succumbing to rot. The stench of it already chokes the air sour.

His body starts to bloat as swollen innards fight to break free. You step back, your stomach rioting, fully aware of what’s about to happen.

The worst part of it.

The sick part of it.

The rotten part of it.

Something cracks inside. Bones. He screams. Loud and frightened.

At that moment, you think of your mother.

Shame crashes into you, and you turn your head away at the last second. The sound giving you a vivid image of his body rupturing, fluids spilling onto the floor. A hiss of air and the horrible warmth trickling into the passage tell you the body has torn open.

Breath held, it falls silent—until you hear the other brother’s wet, howling cry.

You turn to face him and see everything. His hurt, his agony, the anguish of what you’ve done.

What I did.

His expression grows darker, and tears brighten his eyes, but they don’t fall.

“You fucking witch!” Snarling and spitting, he turns his gaze from his sibling’s broken carcass to you.

He advances, teeth bared, and you scramble backward.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

His weapon is out, and he’s on you immediately, the blade arching down toward the floor.

You dodge, only saved by the stab wound you inflicted earlier. It slows him, making his movements sluggish. As he pulls back the katana, it takes him a moment to recover—but a moment is all you need.

Stepping close, you slip your palm up, cupping his face.

It really is a disturbingly intimate way to kill.

And this time, as you watch the slow, putrid decay trace across his features, your lips shape the word “sorry,” but no further apology comes.

* * * * *

Out in the garden, the cool night air touches the warm sweat and dried blood clinging to your body, the sticky stench of rot still lingering in your nostrils. For a moment, there’s relief—but it doesn’t last.

Where the hell are you?

Heart pounding, you sprint down the stony path, your weapon tucked back into your obi, gloves still stripped off.

There’s no sign of him—your slinking, cowardly bastard of a father. Nowhere to be seen on the compound grounds. The passage you took should have cut him off unless he’s already reached the stables. But he couldn’t be that fast.

Unless…

You stop.

Unless you’re hiding.

Just as you once did when you were younger, hiding whenever he came for you. But why would he hide now? Unless he’s afraid. Afraid of what you’ve unleashed upon this place. Or perhaps he’s running from something deeper—his own regrets. Regrets over how he’s treated you, your sister, and even your mother, like nothing more than cattle.

You hope he’s hiding. There’s something satisfyingly sweet about that idea.

A breeze rolls over you. You look up. Let your eyes sweep across the area, scanning the mounds of shrubs. Their squat, plump forms make it easy to hide against the darkness.

You take a step forward, bare feet tapping against stone.

But you pause when you hear it coming from behind—footsteps.

Rushing. Urgent.

They melt into the ongoing fight at your back, the rolling booms of explosive energy.

You turn, but it’s too late.

A sharp blow lands on the back of your head. The ground rushes up to meet you. Your hands claw frantically at the air, grasping for something but finding nothing.

Knees slamming into the rigid path, pain shoots through your legs. You try to get up, but before you can react, a kick to your stomach folds you inward. The cold, hard ground presses to your cheek.

“This feels familiar,” a voice drawls from behind.

Groaning and clutching at your abdomen, you watch a pair of feet step into view. A tongue clicks, drawing your gaze upward to meet your father’s hollow-faced scowl.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You should be used to this by now,” he says, circling you like a vulture. “Now get up.”

Feeling the blood drain from your face, you force yourself forward, but his foot slams into your side, punching a second breath from your lungs.

“I said get up, girl!” he shouts. “No one’s here to protect you now.”

He’s right. There’s nothing between you, no one standing at your side. There never really had been—until recently.

Sick with rage, you slowly push yourself to your feet, and something flashes sharp from the corner of your eye. Righting your balance, you see him and the tachi he wields—a sword designed for combat on horseback. It’s long and curved in its reach. Perfect to keep you and your fingertips at a distance. A spineless tactic.

Slipping your hand into your obi, it closes around the sheath, and with a quick motion, you draw your tantō free and point it at him.

His lip curls back, nose wrinkling with disdain as his eyes flick to the smaller weapon.

“Did the creature truly teach you how to wield a blade?” he laughs as if the sight of you armed is the most absurd thing he’s seen all day.

“No.” You swipe away some blood caked to your upper lip. “Uraume did. And they’ve been more of a guardian to me these last two months than you’ve ever been!”

It’s something you’ve never considered until this moment, and regrettably, you’ll never have the chance to thank them. There’s also the realization that you’ll never see Ren again, either. But for now, you shove that all aside.

Focus.

Footwear scuffing along the path, your father widens his stance, keeping his presence guarded and watchful.

“Hmm, a pity neither of them knew about that.” His gaze drops to your shaking hands, the colour staining them. “It might have been something to see them try to teach you discipline—what you could’ve been if you weren’t so shamefully usele—”

Stupid. Useless girl.

“Shut up!” The words emerge as a snarl, your mouth tightening in anger. “I don’t know why I haven’t done it, but I should have killed you years ago.”

There’s a beat of silence before he bursts into heavy laughter.

“I know why!” he chuckles, alighting his free hand to his temple. “There’s no clarity up here for you.” He pauses, and he smiles. “The answer sits right in front of you. It’s been sitting with you for twenty-five long years.”

What?

Nothing he says makes sense. Nothing.

It’s all nonsense. Gibberish.

Sneering, he continues to laugh.

And he doesn’t stop laughing.

You need him to stop laughing.

Need him to stop breathing.

You want him gone.

Everyone. Gone.

Just like she said.

“But you’re too broken and naive to understand,” he adds after calming himself. “Too desperate for scraps of affection to see the truth.” 

“Desperate?” You take a long step forward, the broken edges of your kimono swaying with the movement.

Your father’s eyes narrow, the grip on his weapon shifting defensively.

“I’m glad I was desperate enough to witness the downfall of this clan. Everything you’ve built, all the power you’ve fatted on, is about to be taken in one single, glorious, fucking night.”

You let the words settle, let them crash and reform as you watch his face turn rigid.

“And it’s all because of me,” you add, mouth twitching into a smile that doesn’t fully settle.

He stares at you, his eyes betraying uncertainty for the first time, as though he doesn’t recognize the person standing before him—neither his daughter nor his victim.  

Good.  

You didn’t want to be either. You want to be your own person—not something your father can twist into a means to an end.

Your own fucking person.

Free to be greedy. Selfish.

To want things you’ve never allowed yourself to want.

And god, you think, you knew what that was.

Through slitted eyes, you watch him carefully.

Waiting.

The corner of his mouth curves. The veins in his neck bulge. His fingers loosen briefly on the hilt of his weapon, only to tighten again.

Then, with a sudden burst of motion, he uncoils, charging straight for you.

You lift your weapon in preparation.

Your father might be older, but his experience shows. He’s lived through battles, he knows how to fight. You are running on reckless adrenaline. And your blade is no match for his reach.

But all you need is one touch.

Which leaves you only one choice.

Pulling back your arm, you aim, and you throw. The tantō spins through the air, curving as it tumbles toward him. And while it flies, you run.

You should be thinking—recalling everything Uraume taught you about footwork and intent. But you’re angry. So fucking angry. And in your rage, you’re almost mindless.

Distracted by the incoming projectile, he swats it aside. The weapon clatters to the ground, the sound bouncing off the stones.

It’s enough.

In the next instant, you slip past his guard, lunging for the exposed skin of his wrist where his sleeve has rolled up.

Terror flashes across his face as your fingers make contact, his weapon too long to angle back in time.

Do what needs to be done!

You heave, and you pull all your power into you, feeling its scurrying energy at your fingertips. Pulse quickening, you prepare to end him, to watch the life drain from his eyes as you release it.

And you do.

And you wait.

Ready.

But nothing happens.

No rippling flesh. No rot. No torn body. No satisfying end.

You glance down.

Panic stiffens you.

The discolouration of your hands is gone. But that shouldn’t matter—it should have worked. Why didn’t it work?

You press harder, frantically digging your fingers into his skin, pushing so forcefully the flesh indents and puckers.

A little more.

Nothing.

Please. Please?

Still, nothing.

You look up and find furious eyes looking back at yours. Furious eyes you’ve seen looking back too many times.

A snarl explodes from your father’s throat as his knee drives into your stomach, sending you sprawling backward. Your feet catch on the uneven path, and the next thing you know, you’re on your backside, blinking up at the inky night sky.

He steps forward, his outstretched shadow falling over you.

“You think by sicking that thing on us, you can destroy everything I’ve built?” he hisses, flicking the blade tip across the top of your left hand to draw blood. “Enlighten me, girl, what part of yourself did you give to him in return?”

The blade flicks again. You hiss at the bite of metal cutting through flesh. Watching him carve a wider, deeper trench from your wrist to elbow.

“It doesn’t matter what I gave him,” you spit, your eyes wandering to where your tantō lies paces away.

Not close enough.

Your eyes wander back.

Another swipe.

More blood trickles down, soaking into the fabric of your kimono sleeve. 

“Ryomen Sukuna does what he wants,” you breathe, trying not to move while the monouchi glides to coax out more red. “He always has, and he always will.”

As exhausting as that is.

But he is untamable.

A force. A menace. A monste—

A pressure prods against your skin. A pressure that is familiar. A pressure that feels as if it’s searching and looking for something.

“... and besides,” you continue, ignoring Sukuna’s aura, even when it’s strong enough to lift every hair on your body. “What I give to my husband is none of your fucking busi—”

That tendril of energy suddenly bursts, shattering your sentence.

Your head turns. Your father’s does as well.

Gaze sweeping toward the compound, you focus on the distant main hall at the estate’s center.

From deep inside, energy gathers, pulling inward, tighter and tighter—

And then it snaps.

Every part of you freezes.

For one heartbeat, silence, save for the distant sounds of screaming.

The air feels thin, suffocating under the King of Curses’ hold.

The earth trembles.

And then…

...

BOOOM!

A detonation of raw energy erupts.

The force spirals upward into a towering column before expanding outward in an uncontrollable wave.

Unseen slashes tear through the air, eviscerating everything—the compound, trees, rocks, wildlife, everyone still inside.

It’s both mesmerizing and horrifying to witness. 

You can’t look away.

The shockwave rolls forward. Rubble shoots skyward, curling and tumbling like an angry plume before raining down.

There’s no time to shield yourself as the aftershock bursts past, slamming against your body, throwing your hair back, and peppering your skin with sharp, stinging debris. Dust fills your lungs, carrying with it the faint taste of blood.

Squinting your eyes, you realize that it isn’t stopping. It keeps coming and coming, devouring and pushing forward faster and faster.

Fear spears through you as you brace yourself to be torn into tiny pieces.

But then, all at once, it stops—just shy of your bare feet, your toes nearly severed.

The barrage settles, the power flickering and fading into a sudden, deafening silence.

You blink.

A shaky exhale escapes you as your eyes take in the destruction—the massive crater where the estate once stood.

The corner of your mouth pulls up.

The other fight has been decided.

No one can survive that. Not anyone but one.

You keep looking, but not for long. 

Quickly, you pull away.

With your father distracted and gaping at the devastation, you throw yourself across the ground toward your weapon.  

Reaching, you grab it and whirl.  

In a blink, you surge forward, driving the blade deep into the muscles of his thigh.  

He lets out a pained grunt as his legs buckle, his body collapsing into a tangle of exhausted limbs.

Teeth bared, he struggles to push himself up, but you don’t let him.

With a burst of strength, you lunge at him. Your injured hand grabs his wrist, pinning his weapon hand to the ground.

Another surge, and you’re face-to-face, the tip of your blade pressing into the hollow of his throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

Your breath catches.  

Then you freeze.

And you look.

And the face staring back is your father’s.

His eyes meet yours, frail and tired-looking.

You both remain like this.

Quiet. Waiting.

“Once…” he starts, his chest heaving with shallow, laboured breaths. The rhythm pulls at threads buried deep within you, grounding you, like you’re a child again, as if he’d once loved you.

“Once, I think I cared for you, just like your mother had, but—” He blinks like he lost his train of thought in mid-sentence. “But I forgot what that felt like.”

Something inside your chest twists, hollows out, dissolves.

Forget?

Forget?

How could he forget?

Your head falls back, and a raw, animalistic laugh rips through you while tears shimmer as glass in your eyes.  

You squeeze your weapon.

“You think I care?” you exhale.

But maybe you do, because you think back to yourself as a child and how knowing this might have broken you even further.

“All I care is that Yuna and I will be rid of this.” You nudge the blade harder into his skin. “Rid of you.”

His breathing stills. Your gaze drops back to him.

The sharp angles of his face, his eyes—everything is the same. And yet, all at once, it’s not.

“Yes… your sister,” he murmurs. “Kasai’s most radiant and perfect gem. Flawless on the surface, isn’t she?”

You don’t answer him.

He laughs, low and bitter. And he doesn’t stop laughing.

You need him to stop laughing.

Need him to stop breathing. 

You want him gone.

For years, you’ve endured. And endured. And endured.

No more.

Everyone. Gone.

“Next time you see her,” he says, his voice cracking, “ask her...”

Something wet rolls down your cheek.

His eyes lift and fill with an emotion terribly close to pity.

“Ask your sister how your mother—”

You drive the blade into his neck, a half-cry tearing from your throat.

In the secluded garden, his eyes bulge, the whites so bright in the dark that it’s unbearable to look at.

With a short twist of your arm, you push the metal in until the hilt grazes skin and meets resistance. He coughs, and blood bubbles up, flecking his bottom lip. Red weeps in fine tracks down from the wound, and he flails.

You let go of his weapon hand, giving him space to shudder in his final death throes.

Where his feet lay in the garden, they twitch, his heels digging into the dirt and pushing up small piles as if trying to crawl away.

You won’t let him.

After years of trying to escape, he finally understands what it feels like—what he made you feel. Powerless. Hurt. Unloved and unwanted.

No more.

Your eyes follow your hand as you pull the blade free. But instead of sheathing it, you drive it in again.

Hot liquid spurts out, spilling over your bare, trembling fingers.

Then, you pull it out, then push it in again.

You think of your mother.

Then out, then in again.

You think of your sister.

Out, then in.

Again.

And again, until nothing remains but a dark red hollow where his neck once was—just like the gaping crater Sukuna made into your home.

Home…

You have no home.

Your father stops moving, and you pull back. The gurgling in his throat falls silent, eyes rolling soft and distant. 

Gone.

For a long moment, the world falls quiet, filled only with the calming sounds of a soft and gentle breeze rustling overhead. But as you sit there, panting and straddling the body, the metallic tang of blood and the weight of death wander into your nostrils.

Three times you killed tonight. Three lives taken. Three lives never coming back. And there is also the heavy knowledge of what you asked the King of Curses to do for you.

Wiping your brow, you feel the adrenaline slowly ebbing and falling away from your body. Then, leaning over, face angling toward the dirt, you vomit.

Feeling empty would be easier. Better. You want to feel nothing at this point so you force it all out.

Watching the sick and bile seep into the earth, you slowly gather yourself, your stomach emptied, and your trembling eased.

There is still more to do.

Blade in hand, you bend down and cut a strip of clean cloth from your father’s kimono. Quickly, you tie it around the wound on your arm to staunch the bleeding. Without Sukuna’s healing, it will scar.

Pushing up to your feet on unsteady legs, you tuck the weapon away and take one last glance down at the body lying half on the path, and half on the darkened soil.

Freedom—yours and your sister’s—stares lifelessly back at you.

Safe. Finally.

Hopefully…

You shiver. A pulse beat inside your head throbs.

Take Ayana. Find Yuna.

You need to leave. Now.  

Slowly stepping away, you turn, and you run.

* * * * *

Scattered pieces of debris from the King of Curses’ destruction crack and shift underfoot as you pick your way toward the stables. You don’t allow yourself the chance to pause or look at it. You just keep moving.

As you near the edge of the garden’s soil, your escape route comes into view. Then you stop.

You hear them before you see them—voices.  

Sinking low, you flatten yourself against a shadowed shrub for cover.

“—the hell is taking so long?” someone grumbles.

Tilting your head for a better view without exposing yourself, you spot two armed men standing outside the stables. From their appearances, one is Kasai, the other a Zen’in.

Odd. Because you thought the Zen’in clan had left after they were rejected in favour of Onishi.

You shuffle closer on your haunches, feet pressing into the dirt.

“The aberration should have tired by now,” one of them—likely the Kasai—says. 

“Doubtful,” the other replies. “He’s probably already wiped out the entire Kamo clan. And if that’s the case—” A disgusted sound rises from his throat. “We can only hope that psychotic fuck doesn’t become their next clan head.”

A pause.

Silence.

The other man says nothing.

In the distance, the thunder of hooves suddenly tears through the night.

You lift your head, listening. A nervous twist forms in your stomach. You don’t know who’s coming, but something feels wrong. Just like this whole harvest festival has felt wrong.

Muscles tensing, you prepare to run for the stables and retrieve your mount.

“What about Lord Kasai’s daughters?”

You freeze in place.

“I heard Lady Yuna took a horse and rode west. Apparently, the other one slipped away.”

“Don’t we need her?”

“So I’m told.”

What?

A chill drips down your spine.

“And ordered to remain untouched and unharmed. If not, well...”

Your heart pounds at their words and the approaching sound of hooves and baying horses, each second narrowing your chance to escape.

You can’t get caught.

But should you risk slipping past these two and whoever is coming, or turn back and find Sukuna?

No.

You’re on your own now.

Turning your head to the left, you know of the private door at the back of the stables—the one you and your sister used to sneak through as children. It’s your best option.

Breathing deeply, you pull away from the shrub and steady yourself. If you don’t move now, the delicate sense of freedom you’ve killed for will slip through your fingers.

You rock back and forth on your heels, tuning out the voices and hoofbeats.

Inhale.

You can’t get caught.

Exhale.

You launch forward.

Feet digging into the dirt, they barely leave the ground before a hand clamps around the side of your head. A panicked scream rises up your throat, but the hand shifts, a palm pressing hard over your mouth to smother it. Another arm snakes around your waist, dragging you backward into deeper shadow. You stumble, colliding with solid warmth.

Even with your strength drained, instinct takes over. Your right hand flies up, clawing at the stranger’s grip—but a third hand catches your wrist, pinning it to your side.

Three.

Three hands.

No.

No.

Injured arm exploding upward, you make a desperate attempt to break free. Why you thought that possible, you’ll never know. His fourth hand locks around your other wrist, rendering both arms useless.

One wrench backward, and you go still. Another pull, and so does he.

Caught.

In the darkness of the garden, quiet, shaking breaths pass between you two.

And with your back flush against the strong planes of his abdomen, he cages you in so close.

It’s an embrace of sorts—one you can’t fight as your bruised body goes limp against.

A dark part of you aches with relief that he’s found you, and you can feel the steady pulse of his heart.

But you know you can’t stay. You need to be gone—from here and from him.

You need to leave him.

No—

Pain sizzles along your spine, only to burst behind your eyelids.

Yes.

Leave him.

The words circle endlessly, strangling your thoughts.

You start to squirm, start to thrash, but his grip tightens. Soft breaths turn shallow, escaping your nose as the hand covering your mouth tilts your head back, forcing your gaze upward.

The King of Curses’ face swims into view. Short strands of pink hair pull away from his forehead, crimson eyes glowing bright in the darkness.

“Going somewhere?” he hisses, flashing a grin.

Red paints the inside of his mouth and teeth. He reeks of death. Of fire, and broken bodies—the aftermath of what he’s done for you.

For me.

Before you can even react, your hair crashes wildly across your face as he suddenly moves, spinning and pulling you away from where you stood moments ago.

From the corner of your eye, the stables—your path to freedom, to your sister—begin to slip away.

Panic surges in your chest.

You fight.

Kicking your legs wildly into the air, the momentum has you writhing and squirming while the mantra in your head builds, rising in desperation louder and louder.

Leave him!

Leave him!

Leave him!

Without loosening his grip, you bite down hard on the hand covering your mouth, enough to draw blood. It piles and flows onto your tongue in streams, hot and metallic.

Sukuna tenses, exhales softly, unfazed, and doesn’t let go.

“I was wondering when the little snake would finally show her fangs,” he growls with excitement.

Feet dangling uselessly in the air, you watch the surroundings blur, his strides quickening as he moves toward the limestone barrier. Using his shoulder, he pushes through a side gate, passing into a cluster of cypress trees. Only then does he set you down.

Cold grass presses against the soles of your feet, and you stagger back, putting space between you. You quickly wipe your mouth and spit out the blood sitting on your tongue.

You turn.

For the first time, you both stand before each other, drenched and covered in splashes of red and gore. No. That doesn’t feel right.

Why doesn’t it feel right?

Taking in your appearance, Sukuna’s mouth twitches.

“Wife,” he murmurs, his eyes trailing a languid path over every part of your blood-soaked body, heating as they roam. The intensity matches the warmth steadily rising in your chest.  

“Look at you…” His voice drops, turning low and raspy. “You’ve gotten even filthier since the last time I saw you.”

Fuck.

That voice.

It almost makes you forget everything that has just happened. Completely wiping away what you’re meant to do, where you need to be.

When his hooded eyes return to yours, they darken, and the red around his pupils nearly disappears. You wish they wouldn’t do that. Want them to look elsewhere because your heart skips a beat a thousand times over and slams so hard into your chest that you edge backward.

“Blood red.” He steps closer.

Your knees threaten to tremble inward as his bare upper body moves with fluid, unnatural grace. 

“Just like a flower.”

He stops before you, head dipping low and levelling you with a stare. Your pulse quickens to an unbearable high.

“It suits you,” he whispers softly into your face.

“Lord Sukuna.” You exhale, then swallow, his lower eyes flicking to track the movement of your throat. “You found me.”

He smirks—but then he blinks.

His expression darkens.

“You’ve always been easy for me to find…”

Snapping branches and the whining of horses burst into your ears, breaking the spell.

You look away, glancing toward the source. There, Ayana and Sukuna’s mount stand, tethered beneath a tree. Your brow furrows in confusion. They shouldn’t be here—you were just about to barrel into the stables to retrieve her.

But cypress. You noticed the scent of cypress on Sukuna’s kimono. That’s where he had been. He had moved them earlier in the evening—while you were dressing.

Turning away from you and stepping closer, the King of Curses begins untying the animals.

“It seems you’ve misplaced something,” he remarks cooly over his shoulder, casting a glance at your hands.

Your eyes dart downward.

Gloves.

You say nothing, your fingers twitching before reaching into your obi to gather them. The effort takes a moment; the blood and sweat clinging to your skin make the leather stick as you pull them on. Once encased, your gaze lingers there. The gloves remind you—it’s over. There’s no longer a reason to end his life.

Your mind settles back, watching Sukuna prepare the two mounts. The reins creak with each move of his four hands, the fastenings of the saddle’s buckles clicking into place. When he’s finished, he pats both horses on the neck.

All while you watch, your mind chases down reasons to find a way out.

“Lord Sukuna,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “What are you doing?”

Above, the wind stirs the leaves.

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” he mumbles, annoyed. “You have eyes. Use them.”

He doesn’t turn as he guides the mounts forward, their hooves parting the crackling grass.

“That’s not what I mean,” you murmur, stepping closer to Ayana, who is tucked near his side. Just a simple slip past him, and you could mount her. “My father’s dead, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s bottom hands slide down both reins as he turns to face you.

“What of it?”

What of it?

Does he not understand?

You exhale quietly, straighten your posture, then lock eyes with the man, who is your husband in name only.

“The Kasai clan is gone. Your arrangement was with my father—” You motion between the two of you. “This thing between us… it’s over.”

There's no purpose to this anymore.

The treaty is void. It’s done.

“So please,” you continue, your voice quieter now. “I wish to be released from this union.”

The space between you grows still.

Sukuna studies you for a long moment. His eyes soften, his expression unreadable. Then his gaze shifts, tracing every detail of your face, starting with your hair, gliding to your lips, then your nose, before finally settling on your eyes.

Then, he cocks his head slightly.

And laughs.

The sound is as loud as it is cruel, and you feel another cage closing around you.

“Is that what you thought?” He arches his slitted eyebrow, taking a step closer, guiding the two flanking horses by their reins.

“After what I just did for you. You thought this was over?”

The air seems to grow thin.

“After what I did, in which you now owe me.”

Another step.

“After I’ve told you time and time again that you belong to me.” The tone of his voice shifts, turning low and threatening. “You thought this would be over? ”

Another step, longer in length.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

You step back. He stops.

“I—” You hesitate, unsure of anything anymore. “Yes?” you manage, the word barely holding together. “Neither of us ever wanted this, did we? So… what’s the point?”

His eyes turn dark as they narrow to slits, and he’s moving again.

“Point?” he spits. The sound is broken glass. “You’re asking me if there’s a point? Even after I heard you cry out so desperately for me?”

Another step.

Your eyes dart to your mare.

“When I’ve seen how those once-timid eyes now look at me?”

One last step, and he’s before you. He dips his head, his gaze locking with yours.

“This thing between us is not over,” he hisses.

Another feeling claws its way into your chest.

“Then… what is it that you want from me?”

Sukuna tilts his head, his four red eyes fusing onto yours. The question seems straightforward, but his expression suggests there’s more to it.

In the distance, shouting voices. It snaps both of your heads toward the commotion. Along with it comes a faint, dull pressure. You recognize that pulsing energy now, the signature of someone like you. Someone like Sukuna.

“It’s time to go,” the King of Curses growls.

You pull away from him, darting toward Ayana, but he grabs your wrist and lifts you up, placing you into his mount’s saddle.

The moment he touches you, something hurts. Pain stabs into your skull. That same chanting mantra tripping over itself again and again.

Leave him. Leave him. Leave him. Leave him. Leave him.

“Please, just release me from this!” you breathe, trying to slip off, but his hand clamps down on your thigh, keeping you in place.

“No.”

Gripping his horse’s mane and swinging his leg over, he positions himself behind you—a solid wall with no chance of escape. His lower hands slot around your waist and take Ayana’s reins with his upper left hand, and his mounts in the other.

“Say goodbye to the north, wife. You won’t be seeing it again. But I’m sure you’ll find it comforting when we return home.”

Home.

Home…

The shrine.

“No!” You lurch forward, your battered body thrashing in his grip, setting both horses on edge as they toss their heads with alarm.

“Yuna!”

The name tears from your throat. A desperate plea. The last fragile hope you cling to—wherever she is.

Was she safe? She has to be safe.

She’ll come for me.

Won’t she? To protect you. She has to. She promised she would.

Sukuna’s hands tighten. He lets out a frustrated breath.  

“When will you learn?” he growls, his mouth close to the crest of your ear.

One of his hands releases your writhing frame, moving to the side of your head.

You freeze, sucking in a tight breath as his energy suddenly spikes.

Leave him!

Leave him!

Leave him!

“Sukun—!”

Flick!

His fingers snap against your temple. 

A sharp pain erupts behind your eyes. An even sharper pulse eats its way through the fragile tissue of your skull like fire, devouring a blight that was never meant to be there. All at once, it silences that screaming chant into a whisper, and clarity comes in the form of a heartbeat. The rhythm of two heartbeats, yours and his, the one knocking into your back.

Your lips part, weakly moving to form words. They try to tell him you’re grateful for what he’s done. Try to say you never wanted to leave him. Try to tell him more. Try to open that bottled-up jar and show him things still tucked safely inside.

But no words come. Just slurred mumbles, your eyes swimming, your head sagging until it rests against his sternum.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he coos against the side of your face, his voice mingling with the creaking of leather.

Black rots the outline of your vision as the mount sways into motion.

You feel your husband's hand trail from your temple to your scalp, softly combing his fingers through your tangled hair.

It feels nice.

You want more.

I want you, Sukuna.

The shadows come closer, swallowing the last of your consciousness.

I need you, Sukuna.

Eyes collapsing shut, your body becomes weightless, but he doesn’t let you fall.

His lower hands slide down, steadying you. One braces your hip, the other presses firmly against your waist, holding you securely as though you might shatter if he ever let you go.

The warmth of him spreads through you, filling you up. You feel safe, protected. Feelings you haven’t known in years… decades… a lifetime… ever.

You want more.

You need more.

I think… I know… my heart is yours… Sukuna.

Like sinking into honey, you lose yourself to the weight of exhaustion until, at last, you surrender to the dark embrace.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 29

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 12

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Chapter summary: Past. Dolly tells it all. Present. Has Logan really changed?

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

With your hair fixed and dressed smoothed, there was no sign of the passion you and Logan had shared, save for a smudge of tinted lip palm. Logan reached out, hated how you flinched even if just so slightly, and wiped it clean. He resisted the urge to lick his thumb, just to taste another trace of you, so he settled with his tongue darting out to his own lips, just for a remainder of your essence.

You and Logan sat on the couch. You faced the ladder that stood against the tall book shelf; Logan faced you.

Killed people? You? You, who cried when he was about to kill a spider, begging him to take it outside. You, who were the shining beacon to mutant kids that they could be loved by humans. You, who were so innocent you shuttered at the brush of his hand on yours.

“It wasn’t in self defense. I don’t have an excuse.”

“Was it Mark?” God, he hoped it was.

You nod.

“Sounds like self defense to me.”

Your hair flies out of its pristine condition with how aggressively you shake your head, brows knitted together in anguish and frustration. Logan didn’t understand, he could tell. He wasn’t sure he could ever understand you, really.

“He was asleep, Lo-”

“Dolly, he beat you bloody, he almost killed you-”

“He wasn’t the only one I killed.”

The silence hung in the air for a few moments as Logan waited. Waited for you to elaborate. Waited for it to make sense in his head. Waited for his anger at your secrets to subside.

“Listen doll,” He stated, clear and assertive. “Just tell me. I can handle it. You want me to tell you the awful things I’ve done? I will, if it’s gonna make you be honest with me. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you.”

A little nod, then you swallowed. It began. “My sister was getting married. Grace. She was 14… her proposed husband was 29.”

“Jesus christ…” Logan didn’t exactly think he was the most morally superior man out there, but he thought any grown man attracted to a teenager was disgusting.

The hem of your long sleeve makes for a good fidget; the weather was getting colder. “I couldn’t do it, Lo. I couldn’t sit by and just- just allow my baby sister to go through what I’d gone through!” You still weren’t looking at him, but you didn’t stop. “I thought about calling the police, but what would it do? Our parents consented, and at the time she wasn’t going to say she didn’t want to, he was a handsome older man, of COURSE she wanted to be with him! I wanted Mark, and look where that landed me!” Finally, you turned to Logan, tears welling up your red eyes, but a look of determination on your face. You didn’t look sorry. “She was 14, Logan. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“I understand.” And he did. If he thought Rogue was getting herself into a situation like that, he’d have stepped in. Hell, sometimes he was ready to beat Remy’s ass. If he had actually thought Remy did anything to that girl, he’d be dead. “She was just a kid.”

A deep breath. “My parents, Grace, her fiance and his parents came to our house one night, we lived in town and they were wedding planning. I took Mark’s gun…” You give a dry laugh. “He pistol whipped me with it more than once, so I knew where he kept it. That was his mistake. I put the silencer on and… I guess just… I dunno. I don’t really remember it. I shot Mark, my parents, the fiance… the fiance's parents. I- sometimes I feel bad about that…”

“Don’t.” His hand reaches for yours. “They were enabling their kid to rape a teenager. Did they have daughters?”

“Yeah… a few younger girls in high school.”

“You probably saved them from getting sold off too.”

“But now they’re in foster care! And my siblings! Our families are torn apart and it’s my fault!”

“Dolly!” Logan pulls you into him, and for a minute you freak out, you hit him and shout, but soon you fall into his strong arms, sobbing. “Your parent’s did this, not you! You did everything to protect your family, this is not. Your. Fault.” He felt you cry into his arms. He never really thought about your brothers and sisters, but he realizes now how much you must miss them. How much you must think and worry about them… Charles knows your story, has he told you how they- Charles knows. Of course he does, he saved you, he took you in… who else knows?

“Does Remy know?”

He feels you nod against him, and jealousy spirals in his chest. “Yeah, I- he and I were up after a nightmare and it… came out.”

He rubs your back. He tries to turn it around, to make sure you didn’t know how much it was eating him up that Remy knew you better than him. “He agrees with me, doesn’t he? And he still loves you. We don’t think you’re a bad person.” A sick part of him was mad you opened up to remy, that you found comfort in him, not Logan. That you didn’t need Logan as long as you had Remy. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle and uncalloused from his healing, touching your soft, wet face as he guides it to his own. “I still love you, Dolly. I love you, and this only makes me love you more.”

Your eyes shone, sadness there but also a glint of love. “I- I love you, Logan, but… I can’t do this right now. I need a little time… just to get myself straight. Is- Is that okay?”

“Dolly…” He kissed your lips, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry lip balm, trying to force his tongue in your mouth.

“Lo-” You were cut off by his kiss, your hands gripping his flannel shirt began to press flat against his chest.

“Just love me, doll face. Just love me, and it’s gonna be okay.”

“I do!” He could smell the adrenalin and sweat on you, but also the arousal dripping from between your legs when his hand dipped down to the curve of your ass. “I just -mmph- Lo, I need time.”

He ground you down, feeling his erection between your closed thighs as you try to squire away. He just needed you to see, to see how much he loved you, to see how happy you could be together and how good he could make you feel. “Everything is gonna be okay, I promise.”

He needed to be what Remy wasn’t, what he hoped Remy wasn’t, and if he was, he was gonna be it better.

Then he felt a tear drop on his collarbone, and he stopped. He stopped despite the urge to fuck you open right here on this couch, to make you scream loud enough everyone knew who you belonged to. To claim you and fill you so publicly that Scott knew he couldn’t take you from him. Not you. Not you because you were different.

But he didn’t want you crying. He didn’t want you like that.

“Shhh, shhhhhhh it’s okay Dolly, it’s okay. We’ll wait. We’ll wait until you're ready.” He kissed your forehead, cuddling you to his warm chest. “Ain’t doing nothing until ya ready, baby girl.”

After

You liked Wade. A lot.

He was a little out of pocket sometimes, way more overtly sexual at first than you were comfortable with. He made some comment about some sex toy you didn’t understand, and when he tried to explain your face was burning up. Logan proceeds to smack him and drag him out of the room. There was a snikt, and a brief shriek from Wade, then quiet as they muttered back and forth. A minute later, Logan came into the room again, looking sheepish as he got a wet washcloth and said ‘don’t ask.’ Remy told you he probably stabbed Wade, and upon seeing the horrified look on your face explain Wade’s healing that the guy, honestly, liked it.

When Wade and Logan returned, Wade was wearing Logan’s school sweater.

Anyway, after that, Wade apologized and was more careful with how he spoke. He was still strange, a little gremlin at times, but an overall nice guy. You liked how much he made Logan laugh, even when he tried to pretend he was annoyed.

You liked Rogue too. She was a nice girl, sweet, and had a strength you admired. Logan loved her too, it was clear. 

And God, so did Remy.

Remy treated Rogue like a goddess, worshipping her every move and his black and red eyes following her with adoration. It made you happy to see. Remy was a good friend, a good person, and a good man; you knew he’d treat her well, and you liked seeing him happy. Maybe in a few years your baby boy would have a friend. Your hand goes to your stomach, feeling a kick. You like that idea?

Wade gasps loudly, looking at you. “Is he kicking??” Wade loved kids. Apparently, he and Vanessa had been talking about having kids. Something about naming them Cher? But that was before it went south.

“You wanna feel?”

Wade eyes lit up, but he hesitated still, blue frosting on his face. Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty planned a surprise party for you after you let Rogue have the card saying the gender. The party was going nicely, Logan was talking to Jean about something you couldn’t hear, and Scott was scowling at them from across the room, ignoring whatever Kitty was talking about. When Jean laughed, you mirrored Scotts glare with a sad look of your own. You didn’t dislike Jean; she was nice. She had been handling your pregnancy and was nothing but kind and gentle. Still, you were only human, and she had sex with your fiance. Your eyes meet Scotts visor, his face unreadable. There was something similar in your positions.

You want to be distracted.

“C’mon, Logans busy.”

When Wade glances at the former couple, he makes a face you can’t quite decipher, then comes over to you. Taking his hand in yours, you guide him to where your son is kicking. It’s over your dress of course, but it still feels strange to have a man touching you, even with Wade being respectful.

He’s absolutely beaming. With a slight, breathy laugh, “Guard dog isn’t gonna bite my hand off, is he?”

“No, I promise.” You laugh back. After feeling the kick a few times, Wade pulls back. For all his unserious bravado, you noticed he’s particularly careful not to touch you or not touch longer than needed. Logan told you he’s secretly insecure about his skin, he thinks it freaks people out. You will admit, it took a little getting used to. Of course it did, just like Remy’s eyes or Kurt’s blue fur. But you didn’t think he was gross, and you didn’t mind his hand reaching to help you up or steading you when you trip. You were beginning to trust Wade like you trusted Remy.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You smile warmly. “You and Rogue. I like seeing Logan so happy.”

“Yeah,” Wade laughs, “He’s like a teenager finding pornhub for the first time, damn near giddy.”

You weren’t sure what pornhub was, but you could guess. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something… Logan feels to awkward, but we were thinking baby names-”

“Oh I love baby names! Got a fuck ton picked out. Cher was number one of course but considering Remy’s absolutely incomprehensible cajun it might get mixed up with the whole ‘chere, cherie, mon cherie’ bit,” he mocks the accent. “Might not be the best. For boys, I hope you stay away from the god awful braxtyn, brayden, etc names, but DONT fall into the trap of those grandfather names. Theres 1000 baby Henry’s right now, i can’t keep doing it-”

“Wade.”

“Yes?”

“We picked out a name already.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Go on. But I’m warning you, I will be honest.”

You giggle, and see Logan glance over at you. He gives a warm smile, and you give a little wave before turning back to Wade. “First name is gonna be Steven.”

“Oh course, like the bible guy.”

“The ‘bible guy’ is a respected figure in the church, Wade.”

“And which church is that again? I missed that part- never mind, go on.”

You shoot the man a pointed semi-glare, but in good humor. “The biblical figure is a factor, but also Remy’s middle name is Étienne, which is a french version of Steven.”

Wade sighs dreamily. “Oh, that beautiful hunk of a man is going to absolutely adore that.”

“And for the middle name, we were thinking… Winston. Well, actually, I wanted Winston for the first name but Logan said other kids would make fun of him for having the name of a cigarette brand-” you were nearly knocked over with the hug. “Ah!”

“FUCK! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW!” 

Logan was over between you in a second, steadying you from the force of his hug. “Watch it, bu-” Wade did actually knock over Logan this time.

“I”M SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW!”

*

The rest of the party went wonderfully. You told everyone the name you had chosen, bringing Remy to tears as he hugged you.

“None of this would be possible without you, Remy.” You try not to think about ‘this’ including what Logan had done to you, but Remy didn’t know about that. Remy had gotten you guys together, and helped along the way, he was the reason you were having Stevie. 

The only thing wrong was later in the night. Wade rambled to you and Logan about how things were going to get real confusing if Stevie was a mutant, because it was already confusing enough with the amount of Steven heroes. Apparently there was a Steve Rogers, Stephan Strange, and a Steven grant already. You didn’t know what he was talking about, but you let him go off. 

Logan was not paying attention. As Wade happily rambled away, switching topics to the wedding in two months, you notice Logan clutching the beer bottle tightly and glaring hard in the corner. There stood Remy between Rogue’s legs as she sat up on the counter. Most guests had filed out by this point, leaving only you, Wade, Logan, Remy and Rogue, and then Kurt and Emma talking at the table.

*

“Oh come on.” You laugh, washing up dishes. Jubilee had promised they’d take care of the clean up in the morning but you didn’t want to leave a big mess so you and Logan were getting the worst of it done. “It’s Remy, you like him, remember? We’re naming our son after him.”

Logan was throwing all the trash away. “I like him as your friend, doll face. But he’s a whore.”

With a small gasp, you turn around. “Please don’t call my friend that, Logan.”

He softens just a bit before sighing an throwing a beer bottle in the trash. It shatters. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know it’s true. He’s slept with half the mansion.”

 “He hasn’t slept with anyone all year. You know Rogue left him heart broken.”

“She didn’t do anything to him!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” You point at him with a wet hand. “I’m not blaming her. I like her, and I know you’re protective of her, but don’t act like Remy beat and assaulted her.” It was a pointed remark, a little reminder that you hadn’t, in fact, forgotten. Logan’s face is angry, something that has rarely, if ever, been directly at you. It makes you nervous. You go back to the dishes. “It’s just Remy. He’ll be good to her.”

“He’s so much older than her! She’s just a kid, dolly!”

You scoff. “They have a smaller age gap than we do.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me.”

You hated this, the way he spoke to you like you dad, like Mark did. What had happened? Why was he acting like this all of a sudden? The alcohol?

“I don’t think you get a say in what she does when you disappeared on her without a work just because Jean-”

The hit was so hard your forehead slammed into the cabinet.

Before you could even react, before you had a chance to walk through the steps that Logan had hit you, you were in his arms, sitting on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry baby, oh my god, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t…” He stroked your hair, your body shaking a bit but too in shock to cry. 

He hit you. Logan hit you. And now your head throbbed from hitting the wood cabinet and fuck, did it ache

“It wasn’t supposed to be hard, I just wanted your attention. You know that right? I wouldn’t hurt you?”

Logan wouldn’t hurt you. Logan wouldn’t hurt you. You flash back to months ago in this very kitchen, breaking down crying to Scott that he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t… He was going to know now, he would know he hit you, Logan couldn’t hide it. Everything that you’d built together would fall apart.

The team would fall apart, people picking sides.

Surely you’d lose Rogue, Wade, and Kurt, they’d take Logan’s side.

Would you lose Remy too? Would he chose keeping Rogue over you?

Stevie would be raised without a father once Charles saw into your mind… but Logan’s voice echo’d in your head from that day. ‘Not gonna tell Charles or anyone, not when you got as wet as you did, right?’. Charles would know. He’d know you were wet, that’d you’d gotten turned on… that’d know that before, the times you and Logan kissed even way back to the dressing room incident. He’d know you told Logan you loved him… so what right did you have to call it rape?

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Bobby walked into the kitchen to see you two together, you crying in Logan’s lap.

“Yeah.” logan grumbled, an edge to his voice giving away he felt at least the slightest bit nervous. “She hit her head. Slipped on water at the sink.”

Bobby kneels down, ice frosting his hands he puts where the goose egg is forming. It feels good, like an ice pack. “I’m gonna get Jean, here-” He reached up to grab a dry rag, wets and then freezes it. 

Logan tries to protest. “No, I think she’s fine.”

But Bobby was already heading out. “I’ll bring her here.”

“Wait! Just- I’ll carry her to the med bay, meet us there.”

Bobby shouts something in confirmation, and Logan scoops you up. “Poor baby, slipping on the water…”

Your head was spinning and throbbing, trying to make sense of what was happening. Did you slip? That had to be it. That had to be it. You had to have slipped.

Your head hurt.

LOGAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNN

Come on brother

Okay, one step closer! Someone on ao3 said this series was like a puzzle, and that made me so happy bc thats what i wanted it to be.

We got one big piece now; What dolly was hiding.

The next big piece is why did Logan go from sweet, soft logan to raping her? It does not excuse him at all, in fact it might make logan look worse.

thank you so much for all your love an support!

Unfortunetly it might be a min before the next chapter. i fell behind of writing bc holidays are BUSY at olive garden!!!! I gotta get the final chapter of rooms on fire out!!! its in my triple frontier list if you are interested!!! its a cult au, lots of twists and turns.

poll time!

happy hanukkah everyone!!!! If you celebrate like me, please check out this companion guide for rabbis for ceasefire, praying for a ceasefire, the safety of innocent palistinians the return of the hostages. You all should know where I stand on this, but supporting a ceasefire is bipartisan.

I will be making a donation to Doctors without borders this Hanukkah, and I greatly encourage you to do the same.

If you celebrate christmas, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Remember that the land jesus was born in is being torn apart by bombs, rape, guns, starvation and lack of shelter. Look through this prayer guide to pray for peace, and consider backing your prayers with monitary donation. Peace on earth means civilians not being bombs and the return of innocent hostages, both of which is supported by a ceasefire. Here is one specifically for catholics, the religion i was raised in.

Thank you for all your love and constant support here!

I had a rough holiday few weeks bc i work in a restraunt, and then saturday i got into a minor car accident. ran into a light pole. it was literally all my fault i have 0 excuses, it wasnt even icy. I hit my head and got whiplash by my car is drivable thank you g-d.

life goes on!

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia a @new-genesis100 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

[fantasylandblues]

modern!lucemond college au

modern lucemond fics have had a real chokehold on me for a while, so here's my attempt at a lucemond college au! (i wanted to include some minor jacegon at some point but still don't know how's that gonna go lol.) this turned into a whole ass drabble but just hear me out (and pls be nice!!!):

Lucerys Velaryon (22) is an undergrad student majoring in ocean studies. Aemond Targaryen (26) is getting his post-grad in modern-age westerosi politics at the same institution, the Crownlands College of King's Landing, Westeros, of valyrian tradition.

in his free time, Lucerys takes theatre lessons at school. he has a scholarship and makes the best of it, although he wouldn't consider himself to be particularly bright (he also has some trouble focusing). he walks with the determination of someone who's got places to be, though maybe that's just to appear stronger or more confident than he actually is. Luce's got a somewhat tall build now, but years of being undermined by his peers have worn down his shoulders and his joyful, boyish appearence.

his older brother, Jacaerys (24), is the one who got him into theatre in the first place, although Jace now pursues his passion for the martial arts, teaching children and teenagers alike. he's known for being short tempered among his friends and family, but is as good with those kids as he once was with his little brother during their formative years. they currently share a two bedroom apartment and often hang out at their neighbors', Baela and Rhaena's, sisters who sometimes feel like perfect female versions of them.

Aemond lives alone, but often meets up with his confidant and cool sister Helaena (27) at the campus restaurant. Helaena is an English professor there at Crownlands with a passion for teaching medieval histories. she has the study of biology as her main hobby and is often seen carrying a book or two on entomology which she borrows from the library on her free time.

it's not uncommon to catch Aemond at the olympic pool well past everyone's school hours, swimming focusedly as a way to clear his mind. he comes from a somewhat influent family, the Targaryens, and knows he will soon be introduced to the actual world of westerosi politics, so he gets to focus all of his energy on his studies and training, almost as if striving to achieve the best version of himself. back home, he cares for his pet lizard, Vhagar - named after the goddess of war in valyrian mythology, a name only his sister could come up with.

he's lost his eye and gained that terrible scar in a scrap with his brother many years ago, which needless to say went too far. he remembers seeing Aegon with their father's letter opener in hand, and then waking up in the hospital to his mother's worried eyes. there are days in which he proudly wears unnatural, dark-colored prosthetics, and days in which he just puts in a clear one and patches it up.

his brother Aegon (29) works remotely as a manager in their grandfather's company, a job he doesn't particularly like but was left with no choice but to take. he is still recovering from the car accident that left him paralysed from the waist down and with severe burns along his body. with his little daughter by his side, he's been dealing with this new life surprisingly well, as well as finding a new joy for parenting.

despite being bitter for years on end, Aemond could no longer hold a grudge against him after the terrible accident. they have been finding ways to remedy their relationship ever since.

beloved by his colleagues, Lucerys is easy to talk to, somewhat extroverted and ballsy, even, although he would rather shield from too much intimacy. being gay is an issue he thinks he's got handled, thank you very much, if that means getting with guys in seedy corners and never bringing that up in conversation. people know, of course, but it bothers Jace that he's never ever heard a mention of a special name.

that day, he strides out of the school's pool bathrooms with the uneasiness that's left in the bottom of his stomach after one of those types of encounters. a few swimmers are packing their stuff up for the day, and he looks just so out of place in his jeans and t-shirt.

Aemond knows confidently what he wants, yet is hard to approach for those who haven't earned his trust, and would very much like to mantain that hardened image. but it doesn't bother him that he craves like a human being, that he craves small and he craves grabbable, just enough to leave small bruises where his hands have been, and he would definitely benefit from fisting a handful of those brown locks he's just laid eyes upon. or maybe he shouldn't be thinking that while clad in nothing but tight swim attire.

let me know if this is anything! my askbox is open for feedback and shenanigans~

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

I'm asking for a big favor.

My life is a waste! Everyone knows it. I'm not smart. I'm not good-looking. I have no friends. And, the only girls that look at me are the ones trying to look past my fat-ass body to see whatever I'm blocking. I'm a senior in high school with no future.

My dad will want me to go to community college. He'd even pay for it and support me to eventually going to an actual university. But, he just doesn't understand I'm a lost cause. I've started thinking my youth would be better suited to someone else. Someone who wouldn't waste the opportunities youth can bring.

Then I began to think ... no one is a better candidate than my dad. He had me in his mid 20's. My mom died soon after I was born. Being a single dad, his only focus was to raise me. Any dreams he had for himself were buried with my mother.

But, I guess I let them both down. My dad is the opposite of me. Now, in his 40s, his body is still strong. He has some pudge from age. He is smart and charming. If he'd get a do over, he'd make the most of it. Sometimes, he'd talk about plans he'd have but then shuts up. I guess he doesn't want to make me feel worse considering the bullying at school. The worst part is how much he actually wants the best for me. But I can't do anything right.

I hope this is not too hard. My dad already has all the good traits. The only main thing I want swapped is our ages. And, maybe a reality swap. I'd be his dad. I'd support him financially somehow. I'll drive him to his football games. And, then to college. He'd vist me, and I'll see how good his life turned out. And, eventually, when he is ready again ... I'll see his new ... hopefully better children. My grandchildren.

That seems easy enough. You want your dad to notice his glory days. And while you said he had you in his 20s why not restart the clock right then?

It’s a week before you are going to college and it’s already seemed like it’s been so long since you made this wish. You’re about to turn 19 and you even forget that you made this wish before until your father gives you a hug as you’re packing your bags getting for college. A weird electric shock goes through both of younger you touch. It was odd. Before you know you’re both saying goodbye and you get in the car and head off going to hang out with some friends for the night.

That night you feel ill. Every part of your body aches and your sweating. Ignoring that your father has messaged you asking if you’re feeling alright because he himself is feeling bad too. You taken a few shots and hope that is makes the feeling go away but it doesn’t do anything to make the feeling go away.

The next day you get up and you’re not feeling any better. If anything you are feeling worse. Granted you did drink enough to paralyze a horse last night. You go home and your dad is waiting there but he looks different. He looks…younger…he stops and looks at you. And just says “how’re you feeling bud..”. Fine fine your tell him. And he I just follows you around like sick puppy. Finally you snap demanding to know what it is. And finally he says. “Look in the mirror…I don’t know what’s happening but I started feeling sick last night and I woke up feeling great ! And I have a feeling…you feel bad. And I don’t think it’s because of the alcohol…”

You look in the mirror and you’re shocked. Staring back you is the reflection of someone who is definitely not about to turn 19. It’s more of a reflection of someone who is about to turn 29! A thick mustache rested over your lip. You could see shoulder hair creep long over your back and a thick mat of a chest hair forming. Wrinkles were staring to form at the edges of your eyes.

“What’s happening to me!!” You demand to know but your dad is quiet. You demand to know but he tells you he doesn’t know. But isn’t possible that he looks even younger now that he did when you first got home!! What the hell was going on!! It was like you two were swapping ag….and then it hit you….”oh no…no no no!!!!” And then you admitted to your father. How you made that wish a long time ago. That you felt like a failure and wished for him to be able to live out his youth and you wished to swap your ages. He was so supportive. But it was so odd. Coming from a man that looked younger than you now. “So what do we do?” He asked. You didn’t know yet. You really didn’t know what to think about the whole thing. You being forced to become older and he younger. A permanent age swap !

Your clothes quickly stopped fitting as your father’s clothes became a better fit. Even his shoes. It only made sense for you to retire to each others bedrooms at night. You even developed his habits without wanting to. Smoking. Drinking a 6 pack of beer during the day. By the end of the week you were no longer hesitant on the swap. You were living it to the max. You had become hairier and older. Aging to 43 and balding and even deviling a slight beer belly. You were the dad and treating your new son as he needed to be treated.

The difference was that you knew your son was going to have some confidence issues so you had to make sure that you being the alpha of the family were going to keep him in line. When you dropped your son off at college you took him to the wrestling coach and made him sign up for the team. He was going to be an all star. He needed to live out your dreams after all. He had some big shoes to fill and you were going to sure he filled them and he worked hard to do it.