#just like when the sky fades to black

[teathattast]

How 'bout that Moon lookin' back?

Saying, "Glad you're here"

When we're together, only one thing moves

Everything else stays the same

[whereserpentswalk]

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

[aayakashii]

After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲

Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀

Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!

♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡

The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.

Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.

You were working overtime.

It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.

Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.

“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.

You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 

Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 

But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.

You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.

Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.

“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.

“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.

Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.

Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.

As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.

You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?

You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 

Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.

Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.

Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.

God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!

No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.

“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.

“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.

“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”

You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”

Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.

“N-no, I can’t accept that!”

You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.

“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.

“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”

Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.

“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”

He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.

“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.

And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.

You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.

Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.

“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.

“S-sorry…”

You shook your head.

“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”

He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 

Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.

If only he wasn't so easily frightened.

Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.

“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”

Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.

You tutted, shaking your head.

“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”

He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.

So fucking cute.

As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.

“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.

He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.

“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.

You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 

“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.

“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”

He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.

“I guess that's good enough.”

You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.

You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.

Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.

You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.

Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.

You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.

You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.

Yeah. There it was.

Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.

Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.

You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.

But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.

You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.

Your breathing became heavy.

You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.

Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.

His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.

Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.

A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.

You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.

Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.

“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.

He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.

You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.

His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 

You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.

You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.

You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.

Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.

You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 

First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.

You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.

It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 

You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.

Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.

Until Kuuya. 

When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.

It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.

You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.

And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.

That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.

But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.

Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.

You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.

You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.

Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.

No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.

“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.

‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.

“S-sorry?” he sputtered.

“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 

He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.

“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.

You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.

“Thank you, Kuuya!”

You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.

The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 

You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.

You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.

Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.

“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.

You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.

At least not obvious reasons, that is.

He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.

“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.

“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.

He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.

“What?”

Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.

He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.

You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.

“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.

When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.

He was already hard.

You smirked.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.

“N-no…?”

You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.

“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.

“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”

“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.

He gulped.

“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.

He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.

“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.

Pretty slut.

“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.

“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.

Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.

You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.

“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”

“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.

“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”

Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.

“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.

“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.

“Will you let me eat you?”

A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.

“Y-yes.”

Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.

Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.

You were starving. 

It was time to eat.

Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.

He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.

He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.

When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.

Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.

Not when you were sucking him so good.

He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 

You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.

You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 

As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.

He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.

A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.

“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.

Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.

“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.

He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.

And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.

You thought he looked beautiful. 

He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.

His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 

You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.

He was gorgeous.

You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.

“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.

“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.

“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”

Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.

“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.

“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”

He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.

As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.

“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.

Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.

You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 

You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 

He was going to be the death of you.

Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.

He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.

Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.

Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.

He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.

He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.

He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?

Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.

It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.

He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 

Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.

You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.

Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.

Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.

Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.

One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.

“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”

He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.

He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.

He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.

“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.

You licked your lips at the sight.

“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.

You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.

“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.

“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.

Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.

“W-what?” 

“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.

“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.

“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.

You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.

“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.

Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.

“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.

He sniffled, looking away.

“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 

Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.

Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.

“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”

“But-”

“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”

You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.

It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.

But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.

Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!

Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.

But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.

The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.

Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.

He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.

“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.

He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 

Only him.

And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.

He would do whatever you asked.

He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.

He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.

When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.

And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.

But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.

Maybe more than you could even give.

He didn't let you breathe at all.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.

“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.

“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.

He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 

It was pathetic. 

And so fucking hot.

“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.

“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.

Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.

“You okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.

You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.

“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.

You didn't need to ask twice.

Kuuya was so nervous.

He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

Easier said than done.

Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.

“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 

You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.

Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.

“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”

Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.

He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.

His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You were just so good, so made for him, so his.

With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.

He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.

You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.

Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.

Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)

He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.

But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.

Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.

You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.

But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.

Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.

The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.

You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.

It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.

At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.

Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.

It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 

However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.

Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.

Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.

Over and over and over again.

[pucksandpower]

Seeing Color

Lando Norris x soulmate!Reader

Summary: the average person goes their whole life without seeing so much as a drop of color, so safe to say you’re quite surprised when the sky suddenly turns blue while you’re covering Formula 1 for the first time

The sky’s a muted gray, just like every other day of your life, as you stand in the bustling paddock of Silverstone, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

This isn’t what you signed up for. Football’s your thing — sweaty players, goals, and post-match interviews in rain-soaked stadiums. But motorsport? Formula 1? It’s a different beast altogether.

“Just one race,” your supervisor had assured you. “It’ll be fine, Y/N. You’re a pro.”

Easy for them to say. The paddock is a maze of garages, team colors (which are a uniform grayscale for you, of course), and a cacophony of sounds that’s more overwhelming than a packed Premier League stadium.

You’ve been briefed on the basics — Max Verstappen’s the reigning champ, Lewis Hamilton’s the legend, and Lando Norris, the homegrown young talent, just secured P2.

P2. The words feel alien, even though you repeat them to yourself over and over, willing them to become familiar. Podium finish, second place. You’ve got this.

But the truth is, you don’t. Not really. And it’s showing as you fumble with your notes, trying to prepare for the post-race interviews. Your heart’s racing faster than any of the cars on the track.

“Hey, you alright there?”

The voice comes from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. You turn around and see a young man — not too tall, with curly hair, and a faint smirk playing on his lips. You recognize him immediately, even in black and white.

Lando Norris.

“Yeah, just-” You scramble for professionalism, straightening your back and offering what you hope is a confident smile. “Just getting ready for the interviews.”

Lando’s eyes flicker down to the notes in your hand. “First time covering F1?”

Your smile falters. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckles softly, and for a moment, it’s as if the world around you narrows down to just the two of you standing there in the paddock, the sounds and chaos fading into the background.

“A little,” he admits, leaning casually against the wall, as if he’s got all the time in the world. “But don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even yourself. There’s something about his easygoing manner that puts you at ease, just for a moment. “I appreciate that.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, right?” He asks, and you’re caught off guard that he knows your name.

“That’s me,” you reply, slipping into the role of interviewer as best as you can. “Congratulations on P2, by the way. How was the race for you?”

He glances at you, and for a brief second, his expression changes. It’s subtle — almost imperceptible — but it’s there. Something shifts in his eyes, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Thanks,” he says, but the word comes out softer than you expect. There’s a pause, a moment of hesitation, before he continues. “The race was … it was intense. But honestly? Standing here right now … it feels like something else is happening.”

You frown slightly, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lando looks at you again, more intently this time, and you’re acutely aware of the way your pulse is thumping in your ears. “Look around,” he murmurs, his voice low, as if he’s sharing a secret. “Do you see anything different?”

You blink, confused. You glance around, expecting to see the same monotone world you’ve always known, the same dull shades of gray. But instead … you see it. A soft glow in the distance, a faint tinge of color in the sky.

It’s … blue.

A gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it. “What …”

Lando steps closer, his expression as bewildered as yours. “You see it too, don’t you?”

“I-I don’t understand,” you stammer, your heart racing even faster now. “This can’t be real. I’ve never seen color before.”

“Neither have I,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But … I’m seeing it now. Because of you.”

The air around you feels electric, charged with something you can’t quite name. Your eyes lock onto his, and suddenly, the world isn’t gray anymore. It’s alive with hues and shades that you’ve only ever imagined. His eyes, a stunning shade of fluid green, meet yours with the same wonder.

“This can’t be real,” you repeat, more to yourself than to him. You’re trying to make sense of the impossible, of the vivid blues and greens and reds that are slowly seeping into your vision, like the world is waking up from a long sleep.

Lando reaches out, his hand hovering near yours, not quite touching. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that’s startling — like he’s just as unsure of what’s happening as you are. “I think …” he starts, then stops, swallowing hard before trying again. “I think it’s because we’re soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” You echo, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve heard the stories, the myths — how the world is black and white until you meet the person you’re meant to be with.

But it’s just that, isn’t it? A myth? A fairytale? With over 8 billion people on Earth, the chances of actually meeting your fated match are slim-to-none. Most of the population has grown to accept that they will never see anything other than black and white.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “That’s what they say, right? You don’t see color until you meet your soulmate. But I never thought it’d actually happen. Not like this.”

You’re silent for a moment, trying to process it all. The colors, the implications, the fact that this person — this stranger — is suddenly supposed to mean everything to you. It’s overwhelming.

“I don’t even know you,” you whisper, voicing your fears. “How can we be soulmates if we don’t even know each other?”

Lando’s smile is small, almost shy. “I guess we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

The words are simple, but they carry a weight that you’re not sure you’re ready to bear. But when he looks at you like that, with such sincerity, you find yourself nodding.

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “I guess we will.”

He takes a step closer, and this time, his hand does brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel it in every nerve, every inch of your being. It’s like the world has shifted on its axis, and you’re standing at the center of something much bigger than yourself.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando’s voice is quiet, almost tentative.

“Of course,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

“What’s your favorite color?”

The question catches you off guard. It’s such a simple thing, and yet, in this moment, it feels like the most important question in the world. You look around, taking in the colors that are now flooding your vision — the vibrant greens of the trees in the distance, the deep blues of the sky, the bright reds and yellows of the cars and team logos.

“I don’t know,” you admit, and the honesty of it feels right. “I’ve never had a favorite color before.”

Lando smiles, a real smile this time, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Pretty sure I’m legally obligated to say mine’s papaya,” he laughs, and you notice it for the first time — the vibrant hue of his team’s colors, standing out against the grayscale world you’ve known until now. “I think you’ll like it.”

You smile back at him, feeling the connection between you deepening with every passing second. It’s terrifying, and exhilarating, and everything in between.

“I think I might,” you say, and the words are full of a promise that you’re not sure you fully understand yet, but that feels right nonetheless.

For a moment, the world falls away, and it’s just the two of you, standing there in a kaleidoscope of color that’s bursting into life all around you. The roar of the engines, the clamor of the crowd — it all fades into the background as you look at each other, truly seeing each other for the first time.

“So … what happens now?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s hand tightens around yours, and there’s a steadiness in his gaze that grounds you. “We take it one step at a time,” he says. “We get to know each other. And we see where this goes.”

The simplicity of his words is comforting. There’s no grand declaration, no rush to figure everything out. Just a promise to take things as they come, to let whatever this is between you grow naturally, in its own time.

“I’d like that,” you say, and you mean it.

He grins, that boyish charm back in full force, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Good,” he says. “Because I think we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

There’s a warmth in his tone that makes your heart skip a beat, and for the first time since this whole whirlwind began, you find yourself excited about the future — about the possibility of what’s to come.

“Yeah,” you reply, your smile widening. “I think we are.”

And as you stand there, hand-in-hand with Lando Norris, surrounded by the vibrant colors of a world that’s finally come to life, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is where you were always meant to be.

[monamipencil]

── (𝗦)𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 ! ft. mingyu

⛧ synopsis; you like to scare your fuckbuddy as much as you like to hide your feelings from him. — first fic of lola's spooktober

⛧ pairings; fuckbuddy! mingyu x fem! reader ⛧ genre; smut, fluff, humor, fwbs to lovers ⛧ w.c; 3.7k+ ⛧ warnings; mentions of blood (not involved in smut and not too gory), mentions of food, brat taming, spanking, unprotected sex, MINGYU IN A CROP TOP, oral (m. & f. receiving), (s)creaming (duh), rough sex, creampie, reader can be picked up, jealousy, they're both emotionally constipated, i'm sorry to all emilys lmao, reader is TERRIFIED of feelings (that's the horror) ⛧ a/n; oh my god, one fic is finished. 12 more to go 💀 hope you guys like this lmao

ring, ring. ring, ring.

mingyu casts a glance towards the telephone, still continuing to chop up the vegetables.

“fuck!” mingyu yelps, quickly retrieving his left hand from the cutting board. a drop of blood trickles down his hand from the fresh cut. he mutters another curse and runs some water on his hand.

ring, ring.

with a roll of his eyes, he turns off the tap and moves to pick up the call. “hello?” he mutters, observing his wound.

he frowns into the receiver when the line stays silent. he sucks on the cut, more preoccupied with it than whoever the caller was. he waits a couple of seconds before hanging up.

a pair of hands push his back, causing him to turn around. he screams, finding a figure clad in a black robe and a mask with a knife. he crouches and covers himself, trembling with fear. as if that'd prevent him from getting murdered.

you grow soft, immediately regretting your decision to prank him. you take off the mask, and discard it along with the knife. you stretch your hand to touch him, to let him know that it's just you.

and now, you're pinned to the countertop, hands tied behind. the cold tile digs into your back and you watch as mingyu's face contorts from anger to confusion to relief and finally disappointment.

laughter pours from your lips, filling the walls of his apartment. the gentle hum of the heater mixes with the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window panes. yellow leaves sway through the wind, fluttering through the sky.

summer fades into autumn, settling for a melancholic disposition instead of the cheery spirit. your relationship with mingyu also changes along with the seasons.

though you agreed for a no-strings-attached relationship, it was impossible to control your feelings. falling in love with mingyu was inevitable and maybe it was obvious too. but who would give up any chance to fuck the kim mingyu?

“god, you suck!”

he pouts, and frees your arms from his grip. his annoyed expression only prompts you to laugh more. he rolls his eyes but there's a smile on his lips. you place your hands on his waist—oh.

your fingers graze the bare skin of his abdomen, and you ogle him with a smirk. he adorns a white crop top with a pair of blue sweatpants. your eyes snap to his but he averts them. a shy smile graces his lips, a telltale sign that he's blushing.

you lean and whisper into his ears, “and you love it.”

he scoffs and you push him away but not before you pinch his waist. a yelp erupts from his throat and you jog away from him before he could return the favor.

the mask and the knife catch your eyes, prompting you to put them away somewhere else. and obviously, you make a show of bending over, knowing that he's watching. it doesn't take much to rile mingyu. a pair of low-hanging gray sweats and a short crop top is enough.

“you really wore that?” you see him take out his first aid box and he flashes you a glance before sorting through the box. “in this weather?”

“shit, what happened?” you ask, approaching him with worry as he peels a band aid. you click your tongue, observing the wound on his right forefinger. you help him stick the band aid, and scold him for his carelessness.

“don't dodge the question.”

“i'm not dodging shit,”

“you are.”

“talk to the hand!” you show him your hand and walk away, placing the mask and the fake knife in a safer place. you hear a scoff from his side and wiggle your butt in response.

“where'd you even get that?” his breath hits your neck and you freeze at the proximity. when the fuck did he even follow you?

“wh-what?” you muffle a gasp when he presses his boner against your ass. blood rushes to your cunt, and it throbs with need. soon, he's pressing his entire body weight on yours. he rests his head on your shoulders and his hands wander to the graze the skin of your stomach. goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“i asked, where did you get that?” his tone sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core. “did you already go dumb?” he sneaks his hand past your sweats, toying with the waistband of your panties.

“bet you're wet too.” a low chuckle emits from him when you squeeze your thighs, affirming him.

“from the-the store next to our usual video store.” you whisper, voice barely audible. he hums, pulling away from you. your back feels cold, and you want to pull him back and glue yourself to him.

he turns you around in his embrace and grabs the mask. he slips it on, and tilts his head at you. you watch him do so, paralyzed in your place. next, he takes hold of the fake knife. a gasp leaves your lips when he snaps into two and discards it with a nonchalant shrug.

he takes off the mask, and tosses it somewhere. you see a sliver of what is lurking behind his brown irises. and it makes you throb all the harder. your arousal drips down, sticking to your panties. heat licks your skin when he eyes you, as if you're a piece of meat, waiting to be devoured.

he snaps the waistband of your sweats and you flinch. “brat.” he hisses through his teeth, right into your ear. he nibbles on your earlobe, and sniffs you like a hound dog.

he pulls away from you, setting his dark eyes on your wide ones. your panties stick to your core like second skin. the cool tile of the counter is soothing against your sweltering skin. mingyu's scent invites you in, making your head dizzy.

he steps back again and you rush to fill the gap between you and him. a condescending chuckle resonates from his chest as he grabs hold of your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin. he leans down, sniffing your neck once again. this time, he traces your skin with his teeth.

the sensation makes goosebumps erupt all over your skin. then, he sinks his teeth in. sharp canines dig into your jugular, right into your vein. he doesn't release you, continuing to mark you his. and when the blood flows back to your heart, it will be poisoned with his essence and your heart will beat to the rhythm of his name.

once he's satisfied, he licks the mark. a proud smirk tugs at his lip as he observes his work. he meets your eyes, worried by your silence. but your glazed eyes and parted lips reassure him.

for the first time tonight, his lips meets yours. they're soft, warm and the taste of his chapstick greets your tongue when you lick his lips. he lets you in. your tongue glides over his in a warm, wet kiss.

hooking your arm around his neck, you pull him in closer. your right leg rides up, resting on his hips. his hand hooks beneath your other leg and he swiftly lifts you. you gasp into his mouth and he takes advantage of it, deepening the kiss.

mingyu is invasive. in the best way possible.

he loves exploring the crooks and nooks of your body. his curious hands and wide eyes flusters you always. his tongue traces the ridges of your teeth and the veins underneath your tongue. he plops you on the couch and moves to get rid of his crop top.

sweat glistens on his exposed abdomen. you're tempted to run your tongue on his abs, rake your nails on them and leave the prettiest marks on him. soon, the cloth falls on the ground, leaving mingyu in his half naked glory.

as much as you wish to kiss his abs and pecs, you know he wouldn't allow it. and you don't even want to consider the possibility of a punishment. though, it lights your skin aflame with excitement, you want to get this over with and get him inside you already.

he cards his hand through his hair and licks his lips, gazing down at you with his deep, dark eyes. your pussy throbs when you notice the huge bulge in his pants. you almost let out an embarrassing moan but you bite your lips, containing yourself.

mingyu is quick, tugging both your pants and underwear down in one go. but he does something you did not expect.

“but-but i didn't do anything!” you squeal as he bends you over his lap. his thick thighs are spread on the couch and you’re over his lap with your ass up. mingyu's large hand kneads your ass, preparing you for your ‘punishment.’

“mingyu, i didn't do shit. leav—”

a loud smack echoes through the walls of his apartment followed by a quick cry. you snatch a pillow from the couch and bite it to quieten your moans and cries.

“you don't want me to show skin in public but you can slut yourself out to everyone? huh?”

another spank. this time to your other cheek. you release the pillow frantically to give him an answer. but he shuts you down, “did i give permission to talk?”

you muffle your cries with the pillow again as he continues to spank you. you hate that you get so wet when he spanks you. and you also hate that he knows how much it turns you on. mingyu spreads your ass, fingers brushing your core to tease you.

you shiver as he ghosts his thumb over your core, whimpering like a bitch in heat. “oh fuck,” his deep timbre voice reaches you along with the wet noises of his fingers burying inside your pussy.

he pulls out, observing his slick-coated fingers. “god, you're so fucking wet.”

you moan into the pillow and turn your head to see him licking his fingers clean. you mistake his momentary distraction as the end of your punishment. you wiggle under his grip, trying to free yourself when he delivers another slap to your ass.

“don't remember telling that you can move.” he hisses, self-restraint dissolving as the time passes. he takes deep breaths, trying to control himself. trying not to split you open right then and there.

it's a lost cause though. all it takes is one look at your sopping cunt for him to break. he swiftly moves, settling you on the couch before he kneels on the floor. mingyu doesn't say anything, diving right away into your cunt.

he holds your legs apart, devouring you like a starved man. the sounds of his tongue meeting your cunt fills your ears, bringing you the utmost pleasure. he doesn't care to be neat and tidy. your arousal drips down his chin as he coats your pussy with his saliva.

his nose brushes against your clit, pleasuring you. he sucks and slurps at your hole, like a dog thirsting for water. he gives your cunt a few long licks before he occupies himself with your clit. his soft lips wrap around your clit, sucking it with fervor.

it overwhelms you and drives you to the edge. your legs tremble under his hold. though you know what's gonna happen, you stay wishful and moan. “'m gonna cum!”

mingyu can turn anything into a punishment. you regret saying the words when he stops and pulls away. he looks divine, you think. with your arousal coating his lips and chin, hair messed up and falling in front of his eyes. and of course, his eyes that hold an ancient hunger and lust.

you watch as he leans down and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. soon after, his teeth sinks in. a breathy moan leaves you. the pressure of his teeth on your skin heightens your pleasure. he pulls away when he's satisfied and licks the mark.

“mm, i wanna cum, gyu.” your voice trembles as he ascends upon you. his brown eyes seem to have changed a shade darker and they swirl with an emotion that you can't pinpoint. but it's enough to send shivers down your spine.

“bad girls don't get to cum, remember?” terror settles in your bones, listening to his deep octave voice.

“but-but, mingyu—” before you finish your sentence, he throws you over his shoulders, landing a slap to your ass in the process. you yelp but let him have his way.

he moves to his bedroom, turning on the lights with one hand before he tosses you on the bed. he removes your top and does the same with his pants and boxers. he roughly manhandles you and it makes your cunt all wet and soppy again. he flips you on your fours and mounts on top of you. 

his warm chest presses against your back. you feel his heart beat on your back and yours beat in sync with his, a melody of aching and yearning. you've grown to love this position with mingyu. it's intimate but still gives you privacy to hide your feelings. it stops you from gutting yourself and giving him your beating heart.

you think if you were ever to rip your heart out and give it to him, it'd still beat. as long as he holds it, it will beat.

his cock grazes your inner thigh and you arch your back, making it easier for him. his tip grazes your clit as he positions himself. you grow needier as the seconds pass, wanting nothing but for him to fill you and spli— “shit, condom.”

“just—just fuck me!”

he doesn't listen, moving to grab a condom from his night table. he knows you like it raw, and that he's the only person to have fucked you raw too. exactly why he's wearing a condom—to punish you.

he tears the packet open with his teeth and pulls the condom out. mingyu pulls you to the edge of the bed, silently asking you to slip the condom on him. you oblige but with a pout and sad eyes.

you spit on his cock and rub it all over his length. pumping his cock a few times, you kiss the tip. the taste of his precum on your lips makes you forget what you were supposed to. instead, you wrap your lips around his tip, and suck him off.

“fuck,” he groans, losing himself in the warmth of your mouth. but he snaps out of it quickly, and pulls your lips off him. “did i ask you to do that?”

your pretty eyes staring up at him, makes it harder for him to hold his composure. your eyes are glossy and yearning swirls within your irises. your lips are swollen, coated with his precum and your spit.

a small smile decorates his lips when you pout and roll the condom on him. there's it again, the weird feeling in his chest. he presses his lips into a thin line, hiding his smile when your eyes dart to his face.

mingyu doesn't waste time and flips you over. you're bent over the edge of the bed, the soft duvet is cold against your burning skin. he uses one of his hands to pin your arms behind your back. the other guides his cock into your cunt.

it isn't a tough task to enter you, considering how wet your cunt is. he easily slides in, your gummy walls giving him a warm hug. you mewl and squirm as his length stretches you out. he takes a deep breath, trying to contain himself.

his other hand holds your hips, holding you down when he starts thrusting. he fucks you like an animal, hips meeting yours in a brutal pace. his balls hit your clit with every thrust, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

he lets go of your hands to grip you better. he stops for a moment, angling himself better. then he snaps his hips. your hands fly to grip the duvet as a string of curses fall from your lips. the new angle lets him graze your sweet spot and it renders your body trembling with pleasure.

your mind blanks, any rational thought leaves you as mingyu abuses your hole. his tip kisses your insides with a fervor you've grown familiar with. your arousal drips down your trembling thighs and you grip the sheet tighter.

broken moans rumble from your throat. and they only get louder with each of his thrusts. the neighbors would surely knock on the door, complaining about the noise but you can't find it in yourself to care. especially when they think that you're his girlfriend, it sets you aflame. the prospect of being considered ‘his’ seems both horrifying and relieving.

something in you snaps and you push him off you. you turn to face a confused mingyu and push him on the bed. you take off his condom and discard it before mounting his figure. he falls back when you push him lightly.

you straddle his hips, holding yourself up slightly to take him inside you. you guide his cock inside you. it spills with precum and twitches in your hold. he moans, feeling your warm walls envelop his cock without the rubber. you move slowly at first, then pick up your pace.

pretty moans spill from your lips. his cock is buried deep inside you as you ride him. you grind your hip on his, chasing some friction on your little nub. adrenaline pumps through your blood, and a lust haze takes over your mind.

you start bouncing on his cock, riding him with all the strength you've got. his hands grips your hip, nail-shaped imprints forming on it under pressure. you love and treasure all forms of marks he leaves on you. the hickeys, the handprints, the nail marks. even the ones he leaves on your soul, your heart and mind.

“oh, mingyu.” you whisper, mouth wide open as you suck in sharp breaths. you grind down on him, spreading the sticky mess of your slick over him. he groans in response, sitting up to help you move.

he makes you ride him, using his strength to maneuver your hips. his lips attach to one of your nipples, tongue flicking on the bud in a calculated move. then he sucks fervently, heightening your pleasure. you move your hips with more enthusiasm at that.

you don't think that there's any part of you that mingyu hasn't touched and set it aflame. heat licks your skin with his every movement. and you only wish for this to never end. you pull him closer and closer, till it isn't physically possible.

he switches to your other bud, soft lips wrapping around the sensitive nub. he wets the hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around it and biting it ever-so-lightly to provide you just the right amount of pleasure.

mingyu knows you. inside out. he knows where, how and when to touch you. he knows what breakfast you like, your comfort movies, your favorite season, the reason why you don't like emily from down the street (technically, making him dislike her too).

but it seems he's oblivious to your feelings. or maybe you've done a really good job at hiding them. because the other day, mingyu asked who was your favorite person, and you blurted out ‘you.’ to your relief (and dismay), he laughed it off. you were glad hearts couldn't speak, because if they did, yours would scream his name with every beat.

you slow down your movements, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of your feelings. you tap on his shoulders, letting him take control. he lays you down on the bed, hands on either side of your head as he positions himself.

to your surprise, he moves slowly. the stroke of his hip knocks the breath out of your lungs. the thrust is so soft, it brings tears to your eyes. he continues the same damned pace while holding eye contact with you.

you want to scream at him, push him away, and run out of his apartment. what a horror is it to be looked at tenderly? to be held gently, as if you were porcelain?

warmth pools in your stomach and your breathing turns rapid. so does mingyu's. he twitches inside you, and you clench around him. it makes him gasp for breath, and you give him yours by pulling him in for a kiss. if he looks at you any longer, you might just cease to exist.

it seems that today is a horrifying day to you. even his lips are gentle on you. they lack the usual fervor, the animalistic nature. like his kisses were a warning that he might devour you open. but mingyu never expected you to lay yourself in front of him, asking him to rip you open with your arms held out.

the bed creaks gently, affirming you that this is real. yes, this is happening. no, you aren't dreaming of it.

another twitch, a clench and two moans in unison. mingyu cums inside you, painting your walls with white fluids. he continues to thrust, and the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. it snaps, and you climax with an intensity that leaves you trembling in his embrace. 

he collapses next to you on the bed and turns to lie on his back. his chest heaves, trying to suck in all the oxygen available. you do the same while staring at the ceiling along with him.

the clock ticks, and the pitter-patter of rain continues. the gentle hum of the heater is audible again. everything is back to normal and you'll pretend as if you didn't almost spill your heart to mingyu and carry on with life. a routine you've grown used to.

a sigh leaves your chest and you sit up, moving to get dressed. but mingyu pulls you back, entangling his limbs with yours. he rests his head on your chest and breathes in your scent. he looks peaceful in your arms.

but you aren't. the alarms in your mind are blaring and red lights flashing. a breach in the system, a break in the routine. you bring a hesitant hand to his head and caress his hair. your hand trembles and you card your fingers through his hair once. twice, thrice. till your heartbeat goes back to normal and your hand isn't trembling anymore.

unbeknownst to you, mingyu was panicking on his own. he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing or feeling. in a drunk-daze, he cuddled you. only realising his mistake when he felt you freeze under him. but you play with his hair and draw shapes on his skin. he smiles and snuggles into you, while his heart palpitates.

after a few minutes of silence, he hears you say, “i'm hungry.”

then mingyu realises that he was cooking before you jump scared him and he ‘punished’ you in return. he turns sulky immediately and moves off you.

“well, i was cooking before you scared me and jumped my bones.” he climbs off the bed, giving you the perfect view of his ass. you move quickly and slap his ass before jogging to the door. “i jumped your bones? i'm sorry you were the one who was jealous of me showing my slutty waist.”

“jealous?” he scoffs under his breath. he retrieves his pants and boxers quickly and wears them. the sound of your giggles and footsteps make him smile and he chases after you.

he sees your naked figure analyze his crop top in the living room. you slip it on and turn towards him with a smirk. “you're still naked in it.” he tells in a matter-of-fact voice.

“it covers my tits,”

“i can see your ass.” he deadpans and you bend over, wiggling your butt at him. he rolls his eyes and moves to the kitchen. you follow him with a smile on your face and mirth in your eyes.

the ghost face mask catches your attention and you take it. an idea suddenly pops in your mind. your body grows hot again and your heat throbs. turning around, you find mingyu standing right behind you. he turns you again and bends you over the counter.

you think he's going to fuck you again but instead feel a damp cloth on your cunt. you hiss and he apologizes, pressing the cloth softly to clean you up. one of his hands caresses your ass, and he leans down to kiss the swollen muscle.

what the fuck?

mingyu discards the cloth and turns the stove on, returning back to cooking as if nothing happened. as if nothing changed.

you feel it in the air. there isn't just lust between you anymore along with the acts of friendship. there's something else, something more tender and lighter. it's in the forefront of your brain but you don't want to acknowledge it now.

so you dart your eyes all over his apartment, trying to find any changes in the layout you have memorized in your head. you look at the kitchen cabins.

nice cabins, you think, observing them more closely. then you see it. the cabins are coloured in a familiar shade of brown. the shade of brown you'd recognize anywhere. because shades of brown remind you of him always, like wisps of love.

love. you take a deep breath and fidget with the top. you look down at it, trying to distract yourself. but of course, life will play out the way it wants to. you see the imprinted number ‘10’ staring back at you.

“mingyu?” he hums in response.

and you can't help the smile that adorns your face. “did you buy this because i told you it was my favorite look on johhny depp?”

you’re pleading in your head for him to tell “yes” or maybe, “yes, i'm jealous of everyone you fancy. i'm jealous of everyone who has touched you before this. i want to erase all of them from your mind. i want you to remember only me. yes, yes, yes! i love you..”

he looks back at you, a streak of vulnerability in his face. he doesn't tell you anything, not a single word or a syllable. he lowers the flame and turns around to face you fully.

a few moments of silence pass. then he speaks up.

“have i ever .. told you?” his brown eyes look at you pleadingly and you do the same. you understand his silence, his breaths, his heartbeat. as if you know a language only you both speak.

“that you're my favorite person?”

you move and stretch your arms towards him. he does the same. you kiss him, he kisses you. you share your breath with him and he shares his warmth with you.

the gentle hum of the heater mixes with the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window panes. yellow leaves sway through the wind, fluttering through the sky. only now you realise that they're singing the melody of a love song to which the leaves dance with mirth. 

⛧spooktober taglist !

@verogonewild @blancflms @chromequette @junniepookiedookie @kyeomiis

@jeonghnie @scoupsieee @xuminghaes @vernsbb @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken

@monstacheol @hoshiskimchi @miyx-amour @woozidanisms @choco-scoups

@cookiearmy @shadowyjellyfishfest @wonwoossecret @strxwberry-skiess @iamawkwardandshy

@merakilles @vitaminkyeom @okiedokrie

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[teletubbyinlipstick]

Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader Rambles

Once again, I'm unsure what to say. I get high, I get horny for these men, and then I hallucinate scenarios with said men. Please enjoy, please feel free to send in anything about these boys! Requests are open! I really like this idea, and I might continue to add on to it. https://www.tumblr.com/teletubbyinlipstick/760241391145238528/more-hybridpoly-tf141-x-reader-pleaaasseeeee?source=share heres the second part!

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OwlHybridAU!

Captain Price has big wings. When spread, they're just shy of 26 ft. A beautiful array of ash and brindle the feathers are easily the length of your arm. He keeps them tucked nicely, looking smaller than they are. On the field, if it ever comes down to it and he needs his wings, the look on enemies' faces when they spread is, in Soaps words,"so fuckin hot."

No one disagrees.

Johnny's wings are a bit smaller, around 18ft they're a deep honey brown. In the light, in-between the feathers, an indigo blue shines just slightly. His are more pointy at the end, a ripple effect used for disguising. Simon loves nothing more than to preen him.

Usually it ends with Johnny face down, high whimpers in his throat.

Speaking of Simon, he has the biggest wings in TF141 at 30ft. They're midnight black with streaks of white. When he's moving fast, they look almost like lightning across a black sky. His second layer of feathers is a dark gray. It's hard to notice the difference, but once you do, it's harder not to notice. He's intimidating. He knows.

It's his kink.

Gaz has the prettiest wings, 20ft, and the sweetest cocoa color. He has dirty blonde undertones that fade into pure auburn. His feathers get ruffled a little easily and the boys love teasing him for it.

It's a group effort to preen his wings.

Now theres you, new to the group, younger than them at early-mid twenties. Assigned as a mate for the boys by the government in hopes of reproducing strong genes. You're a sweet little thing, lithe with a pudgy tummy. Your wings are only 15ft. And very fluffy, a gorgeous cream with strawberry blonde highlights. The edges appear light tawny.

You're very beautiful. And the boys fall in love almost immediately upon receiving your file. They nest for you, soft blankets and pillows and sweatshirts placed in the rec room for a cozy habitat. They're keen to meet you, forgoing preening their feathers the night before in hopes of pack bonding tomorrow with you.

So imagine when you end up being the most reclusive, quiet church mouse they've ever met. You speak maybe 3 sentences in total at the meeting. You were quick to bat Johnny's hand away when he reached for your shoulder for a friendly pat. Feathers ruffling just slightly.

They backed off.

Simon stood quiet the whole time, eyes zeroed in on you. Assessing.

They showed you the loft to your room. Simon kept a polite distance, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Gaz and Johnny were waiting for Price to make the first move and let you know about the nest they had secured for you in the rec area. But when you politely and quickly excused yourself and darted inside, closing the door with the resounding click. They realized you weren't going to the nest. Nor were you going to the rec room in general.

They slept in their shared king bed. The nest left cold and barren. Tears were wiped from Gaz's eyes, sweet cooing coming from the bed as the boys sought solstice for each other.

No one dried your tears, and you stayed curled in the corner of your bed. Scared. Alone. And unsure what the future will bring.

[3amfanfiction]

You and Simon are walking home when something frightening happens. One thing about being in a relationship with him, you just KNOW he would be hauling you around like a sack of flour if something dangerous happened.

Cw: ptsd

It’s been a good day. Simon is home from deployment, the sun has just set and the weather is clear.

You’ve been out running errands with him for most of the day. Your partner’s been home for a week and this is the first time either of you have left the house. You miss him badly when he’s away but you’d give anything for days like today.

You’re walking down the sidewalk, hands tangled together as Simon carries the shoulder bag of groceries on his other side. The quiet evening is peaceful, storefront lights beginning to click on as the day winds down.

You’re not sure exactly what happened. One moment you’re chattering at Simon, telling him about the new recipe you were going to try out tonight and the next you’re being forced against the building, Simon’s hand pressing your head towards your chest while he slams his body into yours, covering as much of you with himself as possible.

You gasp in a stunned breath once your lungs stop seizing before your ears recognize the reverberating boom in the air. You watch with wide eyes as the bag Simon had just been holding spills groceries onto the sidewalk, cans and jars rolling away from the spilled bag.

You yelp as he pulls you away from the wall and half picks you up while keeping you tucked into his chest. He moves quickly into the alleyway you had just passed, keeping himself between you and the street. You shuffle your feet trying to keep up as he bodily drags you.

Si-Simon you gasp breathlessly in shock. What are you doing? But there’s no response. You look up into his face only for your heart to stutter in your chest. You’ve never seen that look on his face before. Two more booms shake the air before there is a faint crackle.

His eyes are steely above his mask. He doesn’t wear his balaclava when he’s home, but dons a blank, black face mask when you need to leave the house. You never thought you’d be scared of him but if he looked at you with that face you would freeze up in a heartbeat.

You realize what’s going on as a red glow lights up the alleyway before fading back into darkness.

Simon, it’s okay. We’re okay. It was a firework, baby. We’re safe. You’re home with me. Nothing. His gaze is jumping to every shadow, still sheltering you between his body and the wall.

You raise your arm to try and cup his cheek, attempting to bring him back to you but he rips his face away with a snarled stay down before shuffling you further into the alleyway.

His grip on you is tight as he shoves you into a deep doorway, wedging himself in after. You can feel his heart pounding from where your face is pressed against his chest, his other hand still holding the back of your head, pressing you against him.

You try again. Simon. Simon you’re home. You’re here with me and it was a firework. Some idiot has gone and started setting them off. There’s probably going to be another boom here in a minute and then you’ll be able to see it in the sky.

Like the universe is listening, there is another explosion right then with a trailing shower of lights afterwards. It casts enough of a glow for you to see his eyes again. They’re panicked and darting every which way trying to see where the danger is coming from.

You decide to wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze as hard as you can, hoping the pressure would help bring him back. You start talking, not giving a chance for silence to fill the space.

We were walking home from the grocery store. We were going to make that new pasta dish I was telling you about for dinner. I had just asked you about stopping in at that new tea shop on our way. You know the one, on the corner of 4th? They have a jasmine tea I’m really interested in trying. And I saw on their website they have a chocolate croissant too. I know how much you love them.

On and on and on. Narrating what you’d done that day, what you were going to do when you got home. The newest show you and him were watching together, how you had trimmed his hair for him yesterday, anything you could think of.

Finally, after what felt like years, his hold on you begins to loosen and his body begins to shake slightly with the adrenaline crash. The periodic booms making him clench back up each time.

After every explosion you made sure to reiterate, that was a blue firework. It looked almost like a weeping willow tree. You know the one . . . trying to bring him into the present and keep him there.

Eventually he stands up straight and you’re able to look him in the eye. He seems almost ashamed of what just happened. It’s okay baby. Let’s go get our bag of food and then we’ll go home. I’m thinking we order takeout and then cuddle for the rest of the night, how does that sound?

He nods his head before pressing a hard kiss to your forehead through his mask, apology or thanks you’re not sure. You make your way out to the street together, Simon insisting on staying bodily between you and the street still, head on a swivel with every movement that catches his eye.

By the time you get home he’s well and truly crashing. Slight shaking accompanying his movements, eyes beginning to go unfocused. The rest of the evening ensuring some part of you was touching him at every moment.

Next || Story Repository

[noxcheshire]

Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.

Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.

The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.

In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.

Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.

Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.

Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.

Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.

There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.

On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.

Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.

Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.

Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.

Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.

Jason had baby siblings.

He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.

Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.

It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.

And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.

It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.

[dilfl0v3rss]

"lets talk in person"

it was simple. you were to go to his apartment, say your peace, and call the relationship quits. not everyone who loves each other should be together. it’s okay that you and ony aren’t going to work out. you’ll take the time you need to heal and eventually find someone new.

that’s what you’ve been telling yourself over and over for the past five minutes as you threw on your short shorts and cropped hoodie, your pink french tip toes neatly slipping into your hello kitty slippers. you overlooked yourself in the mirror. the soft fabric of your shorts moved with every inch of your ass, sitting on top of it as a second skin, clearly showing your lack of underwear.

‘just talking in person’ you thought as you grabbed your car keys from your vanity and made your way outside. this felt familiar. the soft rumbling of your engine as well as the pitch black sky, littered with crystal like stars. you’ve been here many nights before, tears in your eyes and an argument on your tongue as you raced across town to his house. the latest time being when you saw pictures in his phone being sent to him by another girl. you still don't know her name since the contact was saved as your favorite restaurant to calm any suspicion.

this time there were no tears and the many questions and concerns in your mind have faded away. you know that talking in person probably isn't the best idea given that ony has a way with words and knows how to use his body to his advantage, but you knew if you didn't tell him it was over to his face he wouldn't take it seriously.

for the first time since you’ve met ony you weren’t nervous when you approached his front door. you held your head high as you left three knocks to signal that you’ve arrived. seconds went by as you listened to the heavy footsteps coming from the other side. you took a deep breath and kept your eyes forward as the door began to open.

your heart fluttered at the sight of him. you knew this man was fine, but he always seemed to have a little extra glow when he pissed you off. it was like he thrived off of making your life a living hell sometimes. his chocolate brown eyes stayed trained on yours as he moved to the side for you to enter. his milkly white nike socks sat snug on his feet, light grey sweatpants starting from his ankle, up his long legs, all the way to his v-line. his black polo tee was sitting perfectly on his beautifully sculpted body, accompanied by two gold chains resting on his broad chest.

"hey ma" he rubbed a wide hand up his chest as he spoke.

his face was serious, but you knew it was a facade. his smooth, dark skin looked freshly moisturized as if he had just showered. his bottom lip tucked behind his pearly white teeth, centimeters away from his growing goatee below it. ony has been a known manipulator for years, and you’re just like the other many woman that have found themself stuck in his trap. you were different from those other women though, much smarter.

“thanks” you mumbled, ignoring his greeting before moving past him and towards the couch. you fought with yourself about taking a second look at him, but decided against it, knowing that all it took was that one extra look and you’ll be back in his bed again. you heard ony chuckle at your attitude. "cute", he thought, closing the door before slowly making his way next to you on the couch. he gave you some room since it was often that he’d manspread like he was now. ony spread his legs wide as he slid his inked hands into the waistband of his sweats, his navy blue polo boxers making an appearance as the waistband of his sweats stretched over his fists. low eyes moved towards you and rested there, just taking in your presence as the two of you sat silently. ony's lack of words scared you since it was often that he’d start trying to get you to talk to him by now, but that wasn't happening.

you felt naked under his gaze, that nervousness quickly sneaking into you as you kept your eyes on his. he knew you were on the shyer side, always turning away when it came to holding eye contact or speaking up to him. this is what he fed on to get the upper hand on you, but you refused to let the same that's happened many times before happen today. “ion think we should be together no more ony.” you broke the silence, body finally finished wasting time to free the words your mind has been screaming since you walked into the door. your tone surprised ony, its sternest very foreign to him. you were ready for him to try to plead with you, try to hold your hand and tell you that he wanted to change. that was actually what you would’ve preferred, it would’ve helped you be able to actually leave because that's what you were expecting, but tonight isn’t really feeling like how they used to anymore.

ony didn’t say anything. his eyes just stayed on you, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he tilted his head to the side. a shiver ran down your spine as you watching his dark eyes move down your body, stopping right at your center before a small smirk crept onto his lips and he rejoined his eyes with yours. “so you leavin me, huh?” his deep voice caused his chest to rumble, the bass in it causing your thighs to tighten together. you gave him a small nod, only adding fuel to the fire as his head began to nod as well. “speak up mama" the sound of that nickname rolling off his tongue forced a rush of arousal to run through your body, stomach filled with butterflies as you adjusted yourself in your seat. why does he have to be so handsome?you wanted to just jump into his arms and let him take you, but that wasn't an option tonight. of course ony could tell you were fighting with yourself. he fought back a grin as his eyes traveled down to your tightly clenched thighs. you watched as his bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, his hunger rising in his gaze.

he rose from his seat on the couch, “ima give you the night to think it over, but you can grab some of your stuff tonight i guess.” the gold on his canines showed as he spoke win a bored tone, his hands moving from his sweatpants as he rose from the couch.

your eyes followed him, his 6’3 figure looming over you as you stay seated on the couch. he had the audacity to stretch like the situation was just another night for him, but you couldn’t stop yourself from staring right at him. ony’s lower stomach made an appearance as he stretched the muscles of his back, shirt riding up his stomach as a deep groan released from his throat. his visible tattoos ran from his neck all the way to his fingers. some of them he claimed represented you, but you doubt he hasn’t told other woman the same exact thing.

you watched him walk towards the bottom of the steps before turning facing you, dark brown eyes filled with mischief. “you coming baby?”

ony couldn’t bite back the smirk that overtook his features, his head tilting to the side as he raised a brow at you. you know this is a trap. if you go up those stairs you most definitely won’t be coming back down tonight. you’re sure that the rest of the women he’s been with have fell for the same exact thing and that’s why you knew it was time to leave.

ony is a liar and a manipulator. he is incapable of showing loyalty or commitment, and he shows no signs of potentially changing this behavior. he is the worst type of man a woman can involve herself with and he deserves to be left standing at the bottom of the steps as you walk away from him and this toxic situation you called a relationship. he deserves to be treated the same way you were and worse.

you aren’t like the other woman he’s been with. you knew it and he knew it. you were much smarter and were quicker to pick up on his schemes. you were much more logical than the rest.

“uh huh, there you go. loosen her up f’me” the base in his voice ran straight to your core as ony fucked you slowly in missionary. your legs were spread wide, each and every inch of him stroking you as pretty whines flowed from your lips. he watched you hungrily, dark brown eyes raking up and down your body before landing on your face. “look so pretty” he mumbled as he watched your face contort into many ones of pleasure, "o-oh my god"

within the first ten minutes of you being in his room you managed to get a pair of panties and a brush into your bag before you found yourself with his face between your legs. his long tongue making quick work of licking and eating whatever anger you had left before spreading your legs wide and feeding you every inch of his dick.

ony’s pace was quick, snatching loud moans from you before his wide, inked hands found purchase on the bottoms of your thighs. “you love me mama?” before you could reply, he slowly pushed your thighs towards your chest, listening to you breathlessly moan at his newfound angle. “hmmyea” your eyes began to roll, every sentence you’ve thought of saying dissolved on your tongue as he leaned down closer towards your face. “oh really? why you jus try to leave me den? youn love daddy no more” ony couldn’t stop his smirk from widening as you watched you panic beneath him. whiney, breathless begs flowed from your kiss-bruised lips as your walls tightened around him.

“was stupid, love you papa, o-only you” you looked up at him, brown doe eyes fighting not to roll back as your lips curved into an adorable pout, you were stunning. ony’s dick began to twitch at the sight, an orgasm threatening to approach causing his breathing to quicken. “maybe i should put a baby in you. that should set you straight right?” you were so fucked out you barely could register his words. your mindless nodding being evidence of that. your lack of comprehension only turned ony on more as he began to push himself deeper into you, his pace quickening even more as he began to pound you into the mattress.

“you my stupid lil princess ain’t you, so damn beautiful” ony chuckled at the sight of you. it wasn’t too long ago you were sitting on his couch telling him you were ready to call it quits. now here you are not even an hour later in the middle of his bed milking him for everything he had. you weren’t like the other girls, that was true. you weren’t oblivious to the things he did and you weren’t gullible either. you had a good head on your shoulders. other girls don’t think when it comes to ony, but that’s what makes you so much worse.

ony is a liar and a manipulator. he is incapable of showing loyalty or commitment, and he shows no signs of potentially changing this behavior. but while other woman mindlessly fall into his games, you knew all this and still choose to stay, letting his wide, dark hands roam and caress your body as he fed you each and every inch of him at a steady pace.

you nodded along to every word he uttered, not a single thought going through your brain as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. "now tell daddy you sorry and promise not to do no dumb shit like that again." ony's hand slowly snaked up your body, stopping right at your throat before slowly squeezing it tighter and tighter. he slowed his strokes, hovering you right over the brink of your orgasm. he couldn't help a devilish smirk from spreading across his features as he listened to your pretty voice struggle not to break as you spoke. "sorry f'trying t'leave you daddy and- ah!" your sentence was cut off by a quick, hard trust of his hips, his dick reaching your deepest parts with a quickness as he tightened his grip on your throat. "let daddy hear you ma, use that big girl voice you had when we was downstairs."

you grew restless at the sound of his deep, commanding voice. he watched as you whimpered, tonging swiping over his bottom lip as he moved his face closer to yours. "m'listening" his hips didn't miss a beat, brown eyes staring deep into yours as your lips parted for you to speak. "m'sorry for tryna l-leave you daddy, won't do it again p-promise." as you spoke ony's hips moved rougher. his hand quickly finding your lower stomach before giving it a gentle push. "o-oh my god onyy" your back arched off the bed as your orgasm shook through your body. ony swallowed your moans, brown lips dancing with yours as his tongue asserted its dominance in your mouth.

your spit kept your lips connected as ony slowly moved his face from yours. he took in your fucked out state, eyes rolled back, lips swollen from the many kisses you've shared, not a single argument on your tongue nor a thought in your head. nothing but ony clouding your mind as he dug you out in ways he knew you'd never be able to find anywhere else. he had you right where he wanted and by the looks of the delirious, fucked out smile spreading to your lips you wouldn't even remember what you were mad about in the morning. ony fucked you a little harder and a smirk crept onto his face at the sight.

"my stupid lil princess"

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Stolen Sweater

› content ┆ idol scoups x fem reader, established relationship, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 1.4k. ⌁ summary ┆ Seungcheol comes home to you wearing his sweater ❀ a/n┆i feel like that would be something I would do if i were to be in a relationship, plus Seungcheol is big so it would be the perfect size to drown in his sweaters

It was a lazy afternoon, the kind where the sky outside was overcast, and the chill in the air made staying indoors the perfect plan. Seungcheol hadn’t been home for long, having just finished showering, but he was already beginning to relax into the peaceful quiet of the late afternoon. After a grueling practice session with the members, the ache in his muscles was a welcome reminder of how hard they’d been working. Yet, as much as he loved his group and his role as their leader, coming home to you was what really made him feel at ease.

Seungcheol was never one to admit just how much he loved the little things about his relationship. As a leader, he had always been the strong, reliable one—the protector. But when it came to you, there was something different about the way you made him feel. You had a way of softening him, of making him smile even on the hardest days. Today, though, you managed to catch him completely off guard.

As he walked across the hallway toward the living room, still rubbing his damp hair with a towel, he caught sight of you, and it made him stop in his tracks.

There you were, curled up on the couch, one leg tucked beneath you, completely absorbed in a book, a cup of warm tea on the coffee table. But it wasn’t the peaceful scene that stopped him in his tracks—it was what you were wearing.

His sweater.

His heart skipped a beat. It was his favorite sweater—black, slightly worn, with a faded Chrome Hearts logo of the brand he loved so much. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d worn it himself, nor did he realize you’d taken it. Yet, there you were, wrapped up in it, looking impossibly cozy in the too-big sleeves, your fingers just barely peeking out cutely.

For a moment, Seungcheol didn’t say anything but just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his towel long forgotten in his hand. His eyes roamed over you: from the way the sweater practically swallowed your small frame to how your fingers barely peeked out of the sleeves as you held your book. The neckline hung loosely, revealing just a bit of your collarbone, and something about that made his heart race.

It wasn’t just that you looked good—you did, of course—but it was more than that. There was something intimate, something almost possessive about seeing you in his clothes like you’d claimed a piece of him, even if you didn’t realize it.

He hadn’t noticed how long he’d been staring until you looked up from your book after sensing his presence, your eyes meeting his. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as if you’d caught onto his reaction.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice warm and familiar. “You’re home.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, trying to shake off the daze you’d put him in. “Yeah, just got back.” He walked further into the room, tossing the towel onto the armchair, but his eyes kept looking at you. “You… you’re wearing my sweater.”

You glanced down as if only just realizing it, then back up at him with a playful smile. “Oh, this? It was cold, and it was the first thing I saw in your closet. It’s really... comfortable.”

Seungcheol blinked, still processing the sight in front of him. The way you said it, so casually, like it was no big deal, made him chuckle. But it *was* a big deal, at least to him.

There was something about you wearing his clothes that did something to him, something he couldn’t quite put into words. He didn’t mind, of course. If anything, he found it endearing. It felt intimate like you were wrapped up in a piece of him. He felt his chest warm with a strange mix of pride and affection.

“Does it feel okay?” he asked, sitting down beside you, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch the hem of the sweater’s sleeve. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric, and for some reason, the action made him feel strangely protective.

You nodded, shifting a little closer to him. “It’s perfect. Honestly, I think I’m going to keep it,” you teased, glancing up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, really? You’re just going to steal my favorite sweater like that?”

“Stealing is a strong word,” you replied, tilting your head slightly. “Borrowing indefinitely sounds nicer.”

He laughed, a deep, rich yet cute sound that filled the room. “Alright, alright. I guess I can let you borrow it… indefinitely.” His voice softened, and the teasing tone faded as he continued to look at you, still feeling that tug in his chest at the sight of you in his clothes.

“You look better in it than I do,” he finally said, his voice soft.

You laughed lightly, your cheeks flushing just a little at his compliment. “I don’t know about that. It’s pretty big on me.”

“Yeah, but that’s the point,” he teased. “It’s supposed to be big.”

You set your book aside, sliding closer to him. “Well, it’s perfect for this kind of weather.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder, and Seungcheol instinctively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer. You fit perfectly under his arm, snug and warm, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the sweater. It was the little things like this that made him realize how much he loved you—how much you meant to him.

“I’ll get you your own,” he murmured into your hair, though he didn’t really mean it. He liked seeing you in his clothes, liked how it felt like you were carrying a piece of him.

“Why would I need my own when I can just steal yours forever?” you replied, your voice playful but laced with affection.

He chuckled, resting his chin on top of your head. “Fair point.”

They stayed like that for a while, the sound of rain beginning to tap softly against the window, a gentle rhythm that matched the calm between them. Seungcheol absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down your arm, tracing the soft material of the sweater, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in the moment.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’ve never really been the type to care about stuff like this. But seeing you in my sweater…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “It makes me happy. I don’t know why.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your expression softening. “You don’t have to explain it. I get it.”

He smiled down at you, grateful that you always seemed to understand him, even when he struggled to find the words. Seungcheol wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, especially when it came to sentimental things like this, but you always made it easier for him.

“You can wear it whenever you want,” he murmured, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You laughed softly, leaning back into his chest. “You say that now, but you’ll miss it when you can’t find it in your closet.”

Seungcheol chuckled, “Maybe, but if it means you’re always wearing a piece of me, I think I can live with that.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, just settled more comfortably into his embrace, and Seungcheol closed his eyes, letting the warmth of your body and the soft patter of the rain lull him into a peaceful state. He didn’t need anything more than this—just the quiet intimacy of sharing a piece of himself with you.

After a long moment, you spoke up again, your voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I think I love this sweater now too.”

Seungcheol smiled against your hair, holding you just a little tighter. “Good. Because it’s yours now.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the sweater and each other keeping the chill of the afternoon at bay. Seungcheol didn’t need grand gestures or big declarations of love; moments like these were enough. His sweater, his girl, and the quiet peace they shared—it was all he needed. It was enough to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

› anonymous review form

here comes my first even Seungcheol fanfic! Posting this after the One Ok Rock concert in Paris

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! don't forget tp like, reblog, comment ^^

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip"🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[deformedcat]

the fake princess

pairing: reincarnated male reader x yandere prince oc

fic includes: arranged marriage, cross dressing, reader's death (briefly mentioned), Dom to sub bottom male reader, rough sex, rimming 2x, gruwhdbwb will add more in the morning

note: THIS IS NOT FINISHED!! tumblr is rlly messing me up by posting my work earlier whenever i save my draft lol. feel free to read as i write the ending. reader is male! a male!! a certain character will be calling him "lady" for the plot!! i wont spoil much but please keep that in mind ;; this is messy lmao

poor you were just on the way back to your apartment after a barbeque party with your friends— until a drunk man grabbed you from the dark alley way and stabbed you in the stomach and pussied out after he realized what he did.

is this how you die? fuck, he couldve do you a favour by taking you out in one go and not run away?? loser behaviour.

you laid down in your own blood in the dimly lit alley way, your vision slowly getting blurry as your surrounding turns into a blur of colours and into nothing.

before slipping into darkness, you heard a loud voice shouting out your name. its too late, bootlicking shitfuck.

you opened your eyes by the sound of bird chipping, you stared up at the bright blue sky accompanied by someone with dark brown hair and green eyes staring back at you.

"Lady Amador.. it's time to go back to the palace. the prince is looking foward for you during lunch time."

who the fuck is lady amador, and why are they wearing a maid outfit?

sitting up, you take note of the grass underneath you instead of the rough concrete floor from earlier- are you hallucinating to the point youre in this nice garden..? huh, why are you wearing a dress, did a creep kidnapped you and dress you in one of their grandma's dresses?!

panicking, you got up towards the pond and looked into your own reflection. you still looked the same as before, you cant say the same since your hair looked much longer and the light makeup on your face.

lady amador.. prince?? garden.. holy- is that a palace behind you?! whats going on?!

before you could brainstorm any longer, the person from earlier waved their hand in front of you, catching your attention. "lady amador, its time to go. prince sebastian is looking for you."

prince sebastian? sebastian..

slowly, everything clicked to you, did you really reincarnated as one of the characters in the novel "The Villainess's Ultimate Plan!" holy shit.

you touched your face, and then looked into the pond again, that face..

the villainess younger brother?!

the one who disguised as the protagonist.. the one that planned the entire scheme to assassinate the crown prince but end up getting beheaded one day after the wedding night?!

with that information, your vision fade into black once again.

"My lady?!"

jerking awake, you hunched over, clasping a hand against your face. you slowly takes a few deep breathe, you slowly brought your hand away.

you looked to your side, the same person from earlier is standing next to you with a worried expression. not only them, a man with bright gold hair is sitting on a chair nearby reading a book.

prince fucking sebastian. the man that you're supposed to kill during you and the prince's wedding night.

he looked up from his book and walked up to you, you flinched away when he raised his hand, he stopped his action before he promptly caressing your face.

"you, please step out of Lady Penelope's room." he ordered the person (the maid maybe?), and they complied.

there was an awkward silence in the room, he was still holding your face, you looked at the side, scared to hold any eye contact with the man in front of you.

"look at me." he said in a stern voice, like a mom scolding her child.

so you did, afraid of any consequences. (since he was the same man that's willing to destroy the kingdom for your supposed sister.)

he let go of your face before sitting onto the side of the bed, his face is blank,, as if he dont care about you, but the worried tone in his voice said otherwise.

"y/n." you jumped at the name, how did he know your name- wasnt he supposed to call you by your sister's name ?! before you can say amything, he cut you off.

"..i was waiting for you at the dining table, but i got the news of you fainting in the garden right after waking up from your nap."

"..i apologize."

he leans in towards you, settling his hands onto your face once again as if to inspect for any injuries, he lets go once again when he saw no visible injuries.

"i know you prefer to be called lady amador when it comes to appearing as your sister, but a maid was here, and i have to convince people we have a medium love with each other.

especially when our wedding night is two days from now on."

what. the story already started?! no- screw that, how did he know you were pretending to be penelope?!

"how did you know im not lady penelope?" you kissed your teeth, gripping onto the comforter, subtly slapping the prince's hand away when he tried to reach for yours.

"lady penelope had sent a letter to me, personally stating about her plan, and we agreed on one term: i keep you safe and she sends me information of the war, simple.

though, i shall say, youre quite the beauty."

you were about to curse at penelope but your ears becoming warm after he said that, he chuckled before getting up of the bed.

"most married or engaged couples have monthly night together, and ours is two night from now on. we wont do anything sensual, do not worry."

"what-"

"see you tomorrow at lunch, dear." he kissed you on the forehead before walking out of your room.

for the next two days, you learnt the person at the garden is your personal maid, Andrea. apparently she found you laying on the ground at the garden (that sebastian built for you.) after you stated you were gonna take a stroll.

you also met your personal knight, William, Penelope's second love interest but was sadly killed when he defended you during your trail.

the three of you got along well, often seen having conversation near the garden or having tea party together. sebastian watched from his office and smiled at the sight of you chatting with Andrea.

william on the other hand,, have been too close to you for his liking. he nearly ripped an important paper when he saw william wiping off some biscuit crumbs from your face- why is he so touchy? Andrea couldve done that using a napkin.

he broke his pen, the black ink soaked his hand and his paper work. did you like damian better than him? why did you become flustered when the knight spoke about something?

should he get rid of him?

how troublesome.

he remembered when a butler and notify him what happened to you. he nearly tear down the entire palace when you didnt wake up for two hours he almost frown when you flinched and move away from him when he reach out to you. the way you were nervous around him,,

he slowly calmed down, reminding himself that you and his night together is tonight. he sighed, he should finish his work first then meet you tonight.

back in your chamber, Andrea and a few other maids helped you to get ready, even helping you to take a bath. you enjoyed the smell of lavender from the soapy water, an old maid massaged your body when you're just soaking inside the bathtub.

the old lady was kind enough to even offer you a drink as she tells you stories of her youth.

after that and when Andrea deemed you 'clean', began to dress you into a white night gown made with the finest silk, the strap of the grown barely hanging on your shoulder. the maid had explained that you have to wear this because 'the prince gave the gown as a gift.'

was he not shameless when his gift includes a set of lingerie?!

you fidget around with the ring, Andrea styled your hair into a loose braid, making sure you look presentable before leading you to the prince's chamber. you insisted that you walked by yourself, so she went back to the maid headquarter.

walking down the dimly lit hallway, no one is wandering except for a few knight patrolling. you soon arrived in front of his room, knocking a few time to make your presence known "sir sebastian-"

before you could finish, sebastian opened the door and grab you by the waist, dragging you into the room.

he lifts you up and carries you to the spacious bed, he gently laid you down and take a whiff of your scent before mumbled out a "you smells nice.."

you looked at him with wide eyes, he was only wearing a robe- your eyes wonders down and sees his toned body that he had clearly worked on. he noticed you and grinned, taking your hand and putting it on his chest

"like what you see?"

if you could kill him right now you would.

instead, you pushed him down the bed, him lying down on the bed and you on top.

"what if i do?

also.. i will be the one in charge tonight."

you leaned down, opening his robe hastily and take one nipple into your lips.

sebastian nearly flipped you over, but he held himself back. he moaned when you grinned onto his crotch, he lightly tugged your hair, leaning in as if asking for a kiss.

you gave him what he wanted, he softly moaned into the kiss, slowly his hand make its way towards your shorts, pulling it down your ankle before he pulls away from the kiss.

he sat up against the bed frame and settled you on his lap, he took in the sight of you wearing his gift- that he had commissioned for it to fit you, and god.

you are so pretty.

hair messy from the kissing session, the collar of the gown was low enough for him to see the lacey bra, a garter designed with silver lining tightly wrapped around your thigh and the underwear that only covered your erected cock-

he want to eat you up,,

so he did.

Sebastian was known to be a beast in bed as he was known in the battlefield,, was what the novel described him.

Unfortunately they were true to their words, his thrust was harsh and deep, creating impacts thats enough to make you cry out.

so much of being gentle?! he even ripped off your outfit, leaving you naked!

he was nice enough to eat you out earlier, even giving you to opportunity to ride his face.

sebastian continue with this harsh pace, holding one of your leg onto his shoulder while another holds your hand. his apologized multiple times while grunting, saying things likes

"im sorry- ah! youre so tight!"

"mm- if you keep moaning like that- hng! i wont be able to slow down-"

"dear.. mmh.. im sorry.. i'll take care of you later-!" im gonna kill you, you handsome bastard!!

you clung onto him on each thrust, it just feel so-! sebastian suddenly changed the position, pushing you on your knees while holding your arms at the back,

"se-sebasti- ah! wait-! mngh!" he holds your hand behind you back tightly to ground you, the position didnt help at all, you couldnt muffle your moans and his dick reach deeper than it did in the previous position.

he panted, letting go of your arms fearing that your arm is sore. he gave an apologetic kiss on your forehead before continuing .

he grunted when you tighten around him, he tried to sooth you by giving stroking your cock, but that only add to the pleasure as you cried out of overstimulation.

you felt like you were melting.

you had climax into sebastian's hand, fuck- why isnt he stopping-?! you continued to cry out before he stuff his finger with your cum into your mouth, you immediately bit onto his fingers to muffle your moans.

his climax came sooner than you expected, he twitched and came inside. he slowed down his thrust, riding out his climax before pulling out.

you panted, thinking its over,, until sebastian gripped your aas and spread them apart revealing your winking hole, dripping out his children batter.

without hesitation, he dive in as if its his last meal, slurping and eating his own cum. you moaned at this, trying to push him away but he stayed still.

"what are you-"

"round 2? gotta have heirs for the future y'know.." he said with a toothy grin, flipping you over your back and pressing you thigh until your ankle reach your chest.

"ah?!"

the knights guarding outside sebastian's chamber looked at each other then looked down, the two of them had an erection from your moaning- tone it down sometimes!

a/n: not proud with this one, will check and edit it in the morning (its 3.56 am right now) goodnight ^_^

[aquaticmercy]

My Own Soul’s Warning

Summary : You, an immortal being, falls in love with the very mortal Bucky Barnes. You would do anything for him, even if it meant you had to strike a deal with Death herself.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Violence, death, trauma, mentions of sex (not graphic), cursing. Rio Vidal makes an appearance. Angst with a happy ending. Fluff!!!!

Word count : 6.3k

Note : This fic was inspired by Agatha and Rio, though this has a much happier ending. Reader is the Spirit of Suffering, an immortal entity who shows herself to people in extreme physical and emotional suffering to help ease the pain. The title is inspired by the Killers song of the same name. The fic started in the 1940s and ends after FATWS. Enjoy!

The sequel to this story is out now!

Bucky x Spirit of Suffering!reader masterlist

The first time Bucky saw you, it was 1942. He was in the trenches, under the dim moonlight of Germany.

He was supposed to be Sergeant James Barnes, fighting to defend his country. But then? He was only selfishly fighting for his own life. 

The air was thick with the stench of mud, sweat, and blood. The world around him felt like a prison of haze and darkness— machine guns firing in the distance, the rumble of explosions shaking the ground underneath him. 

He knew it only took one mistake, one slip up, and this is how he would die.

He was tired beyond anything he’d ever felt before, his body crumbling after days without sleep. His body ached from wounds he hadn’t couldn’t treat— the infirmary was crowded, too crowded to even see the ‘small’ gushing cut on his forearm that didn’t feel so small right now. 

But he could take the physical pain. It was the gnawing fear that was the hardest to bear, creeping over him, curling around his ribs like a rope, tightening until it hurt to breathe.

Then, through the smoke and shadows, he saw you. 

You were just a figure at first, standing a few yards away. You were cloaked in the same darkness that had swallowed up his world. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed that you didn’t quite belong.

You were almost radiant, the flickering light from the fire catching on something otherworldly in your gaze. Bullets flew past you, going through your being as if you were only made of smoke.

You were watching him, silent and still. Your expression was carefully neutral, a warmth in your eyes that cut through the cold surrounding him.

He blinked, half-believing you were just a figment of his exhaustion.

When he opened his eyes again, you were still there, a steady presence in the middle of the chaos. Bucky felt a strange sense of peace swallow him, like the world had gone silent in the space between his heartbeat and your gaze. 

You didn’t say a word, but you didn’t need to. Just being there, in a place where everything was twisted and brutal and so fucking wrong, you felt like a sliver of peace in this nightmare that was wartime. 

Something deep in his gut told him that he wasn’t meant to understand who, or rather what, you were. And yet, he felt safer at the mere presence of you. Before he could reach out to test if you were real, you were gone— slipping away into the dark like a ghost.

—

The next time he saw you was when he was half-dead, bleeding out in the snow after the fall from the train. The pain was more than unbearable, raw and sharp and insufferable. His nerves burned, radiating from every shattered bone, every freezing inch of his numb skin. 

His vision blurred, the sky above flickering in and out of view as his mind faded in and out of consciousness. He wondered if this was going to be his death, a slow and dramatic fade to black he only ever saw in the movies Steve dragged him to.

Then he saw you again, standing in the snow.

The sight of you jolted him back to consciousness, just enough to cling to the edge of the living world. This time, there was no mistaking the look on your face— a look of concern. 

For a moment, he thought you must be an angel coming to collect him. 

You must be. 

There you were, silently watching him with that same expression of warmth he’d seen in the trenches.

He struggled to sit up to get a better look at you, every little movement sent pain shooting through him. Finally, he slumped back to the snow in defeat, breathing hard. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse, nearly swallowed up by the howling wind.

The cold, harsh winter wasn’t a place for someone who looked as fragile as you, he thought.

You carefully took a step closer, as if unwilling to disturb him. There was a slight curve to your lips, something that could have been a smile but wasn’t quite, as you looked down at him. “I’m looking out for someone.”

He swallowed a strange lump in his throat, the sharp tang of fear and curiosity contrasting the cold bite of the freezing air. “Who?” His voice cracked, barely audible.

“You,” you said, your voice as quiet as a prayer.

It was such a simple answer, but it hit him like a wave. In the midst of all the pain, he suddenly felt relief. 

The hurt eased, the cold stung a little less.

He didn’t know if you were a dream, a ghost, or something beyond his understanding. But at that moment, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were there, that you had come for him. That he wasn’t alone. 

As his vision started to fade again and the darkness crept back, he realised you didn't leave any footprints in the snow. 

—

Bucky didn’t know why you kept showing up. 

Over the years, he felt your presence like his own shadow, drifting through the Hydra bases, the laboratories, the dark corners of the cell they kept him in between missions. The world around him was cold and sterile, a cage of steel where hope had no place, no right to exist.

Still, he saw you, quiet and watchful, a silhouette in the dim light. 

He would catch glimpses of you while the scientists strapped him to machines, the hum of needles piercing his flesh. You were there, watching over him, as they shocked cold electricity through his veins. Each time, his eyes would land on you, and you’d watch him from the far corner of the room, with that same calm, steady gaze.

Everytime his eyes locked on yours, the pain eased, even if only a little.

It became easier to take the torture.

It became easier to find rest.

Over time, Hydra erased his memories. 

Soon, he forgot his life. He forgot the people who used to love him, who grieved for him when he was lost. 

But he had never forgotten you. 

Maybe it was the first sign that you weren’t quite human.

One night, after a particularly brutal round of reprogramming, he saw you again, this time closer than ever before. 

You stood by his bedside, where he lay in the dark, barely clinging to sanity. He blinked, pain searing in his throat. He tried to reach for you, fingers trembling, and felt nothing.

“Where did you come from?” he whispered, his voice rough and broken, as he felt that comfort once again. 

The comfort he only had with you.

A soft smile touched your lips, something gentle and knowing. You were a light in the darkness of his fractured mind. “Far, far away from here.”

He closed his eyes, trying to etch your face to his memory, certain that if he did, he could take some small fragment of comfort back into the waking nightmare that was his brutal reality.

You knew, by the way his life was going, that you were going to see Bucky more and more.

It was the nature of your job, to look out for people like him.

After the next couple of visits, he started talking to you more and more— whenever he was left alone with his thoughts, whenever the pain or the hollow emptiness crept too close, he would search for you. 

And you’d be there, listening to the murmured secrets he’d never told another soul. 

He told himself you weren’t real, that he was just losing his grip on sanity, conjuring a kind face to stave off the horror. But that didn’t stop him from craving your presence.

—

Years later, he’d managed to break free of Hydra’s grip. He had carved out a life hiding in the far reaches of the world when he saw you again, as if you’d followed him through every corner of hell he’d tried to escape.

Romania was quiet, the kind of place where he could keep to himself. He had a run down studio apartment where the days blurred by and the silence was almost peaceful. 

Yet in that solitude, you appeared again, lingering in the shadow of an alleyway, or standing just beyond his view on quiet, empty streets. He’d catch your gaze through crowds when he was most alone, and he’d feel an overwhelming sense of calm, an unexplainable rush he could only have with you. 

It was on one of those quiet evenings, when he was washing dishes, that he saw you again, watching him from across the room. He stared, wiping his hands absently on the dish towel, still unsure if he was simply dreaming.

He called out in that soft voice of his, almost a whisper.

“Thank you for being here.” It was a simple admission, but it was true.

You tilted your head, that familiar gentleness in your eyes. “Always.” He replied.

The suffering he had recently was different— it wasnt physical as it usually was. It was an isolated sense of longing that broke the deepest parts of his heart, one that he couldn't quite heal himself.

Your warm and steady voice anchored him to the present. For the first time, he didn’t try to tell himself that you were a figment of his imagination. For just a moment, he let himself believe that you were standing there, real and alive, not just an invention of his lonely mind. 

And even as you disappeared, slipping away into the shadows, the feeling of your presence lingered, filling the emptiness around him.

—

The last rays of Wakanda’s sun slipped over the treetops, bathing everything in a warm, honeyed light that somehow reached even into the white-walled lab where Bucky was preparing himself for a long, cold sleep. 

He looked around, his gaze fixing on the distant horizon, the soft sounds of Shuri and the lab assistants moving in the background. 

He could feel his heart pounding. He was terrified, the horror clawing into him, even though he knew that this was the right decision. He knew that it was the safest thing for him to do— to go back in the ice until his trigger words could be removed.

It didn't stop the instinctive dread of being shut away again, though.

And then he saw you, standing behind a desk. He didn’t know how you’d gotten there, or if anyone else could even see you.

But there you were, just as you’d been so many times before, giving him a piece of calm he didn't quite understand.

For a long moment, he said nothing. He only looked at you. 

Somehow, you looked more real in this light, more human than he’d ever seen you before. Still, you had that hint of almost supernatural haze. He took a deep breath, feeling safer by the second, now that you were here.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” he asked, the words coming out like a whispered plea. He didn’t expect you to answer, not really.

His heart beat quicker as he waited, hoping you wouldn’t vanish as quickly this time.

You just smiled, that same soft, knowing smile you’d given him in the darkest hours of his life.

You nodded, “Only if you need me.”

The warmth of your words lingered in his mind as he took one last look at you. He felt the tension in his chest loosen, just enough to let him breathe again. He laid down, a feeling of peace settling over him. 

He closed his eyes, holding the memory of you close, feeling the faint impression of your smile stay with him as he drifted into the dark.

—

The next time he saw you, it was in the middle of another waking nightmare—the battlefield of Wakanda, chaos erupting in every direction as the forces of Thanos closed in. Bucky was fighting on pure instinct, his body moving with an instinct he’d learned in war. He drew on more and more on his Hydra training and sheer luck. 

After Thanos snapped, he saw you again. You were standing behind Steve, amongst the trees.

For the first time, your expression was not calm. You looked terrified. Your eyes, usually so steady, were wide, your face pale as you looked at him with a horror he’d never seen from you before.

Something inside him understood. He knew, even before the feeling swept over him—a strange tingling, a disintegration at the frayed edges of his body—that he was about to be turned to dust.

He tried to reach out, to touch you, to ask if he’d see you on the other side, but before he could say a word, he felt himself fade, slipping into nothingness, his best friend’s name the last thing he uttered.

—

When he returned—when the world pieced itself back together after five long years—he felt the dread of loneliness again. 

You came, though it felt like you carried a deeper sadness in your gaze than before. It was as if you had… missed him.

When Steve left, when Bucky watched his best friend walk away, disappearing into a life they’d both only dreamed of, he felt the emptiness he had left in his wake.

He stood there, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, feeling a hollow emptiness settle inside him, knowing he’d lost something irreplaceable, something that could never be returned when Steve decided to live a life he always wanted.

Then he saw you again, just a few steps next to him. He almost didn’t dare to look, afraid that you’d vanish if he did. When he finally turned, there you were, as calm as you’d always been, watching him with that familiar warmth and understanding.

“You’re not alone,” you murmured, your voice so gentle it felt like a medicine to the sickness of his soul.

He swallowed hard, nodding as he looked down. He tried to keep his composure, though he failed. 

He couldn’t bring himself to ask you who you truly were, if you truly knew the depth of what he’d lost, if you understood the kind of grief that was now carved so deeply inside him.

And you did. Grief was a human suffering, after all.

You stayed there, silent, a quiet witness to his pain as you offered a supernatural solace. 

—

Over the years that followed, you'd show up when the loneliness clawed too deep, when the nightmares took hold or when the silence of his apartment was too much to bear on his own. 

He started talking to you more than ever before.

When the silence weighed heavy on him, he’d glance into the shadows, almost expecting you to appear. And, as if by some unspoken agreement, you’d arrive just in time.

Yet, you never came too close. You stayed at a distance, as if you were made of something too fragile for this world. Bucky never minded, though. He had learned early on that pressing you for answers, for explanations, only ended with your departure. So he stopped asking them. He started accepting your presence as a gift he wasn’t meant to understand.

You were simply…there, steady and unchanging, offering comfort and warmth in a way no one else could. 

He’d tell you things he wouldn’t dare tell anyone else—confessions that clawed up from the darkest corners of his mind, memories from the days he wished he could erase. You would listen, without judgement, without a flicker of fear or revulsion. Your presence only ever brought you peace.

In those quiet, lonely moments, he came to rely on you, to look for you in the shadows. You were a silent companion in his darkest hours. And though he never stopped wondering who you truly were, he let himself believe, if only a little, that he had someone, that you were real enough to him.

—

One night, after a long silence had fallen between you, he confessed something.

“You know,” he said, his voice thick with sorrow and exhaustion, “I don’t… I don’t think you’re real.” He tried to smile, but it was faint. It was hollow. “I think to you’re just… my mind is playing tricks on me. I think I needed someone so badly that I made you up.”

He was laying himself bare. Raw. Vulnerable.

He was almost afraid to look at you, afraid that if he did, you would disappear, proving his confession true. Then, he forced himself to meet your eyes, searching for any sign of reaction.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t deny it. 

You only looked back at him with that same soft understanding.

“You’re just…” he murmured, trailing off. “You’re the most beautiful person I could imagine, someone I must have conjured to… to keep me from losing my mind.” He laughed bitterly, rubbing a hand over his face, not quite meeting your gaze. “Because no one like you would actually be here. Would actually want to be with someone as broken as me.”

He waited, his heart beating harshly. Part of him hoping you’d break the illusion, that you’d tell him he was wrong, that you were real. 

Faint sadness flickered in your eyes. “Suffering has never broken you before,” you said, “It will not break you now.” 

You didn’t confirm his fears, but you didn’t deny them either. 

That quiet, ambiguous acceptance soothed him more than any promise could have.

He let the questions go, even though they lingered in the back of his mind. 

He came to understand that perhaps it didn’t matter if you were real or not. He only needed you.

—

It was the dead of night, and Bucky was trembling.

He had woken up in cold sweat, the remnants of his nightmare gripping him like icy chains. He sat up, pressing his hands to his face, trying to push away the memories that refused to fade, the fractured images of a past that haunted him even in sleep. He swallowed, his voice rough, almost a whisper, as he murmured into the dark.

“Where are you?” he rasped, his voice thick with desperation. “Please, come back.” His heart pounded, his words barely a breath as he called for you, “Come back to me.”

He let his head fall into his hands, feeling so fucking foolish. 

He should've known.

He should’ve known that after all this time, he was still calling for a ghost, for a figment of his imagination, for someone he’d conjured out of pure, pathetic loneliness. 

As his breathing slowed, he felt something shift in the quiet corners of his room. A familiar warmth settled over him, gentle and comforting. He raised his head, and there you were, standing just a few feet away.

For a long moment, he simply stared, disbelief and wonder filling his stare. You looked more solid than he’d ever seen you before, as if reality had woven itself around you.

Light no longer passed through you. Your footsteps made thudding sounds on the ground. You tripped over a couple of the steps, as if learning how to walk with legs for the first time.

You moved closer towards him.

Seeing him so shaken, so desperately calling for you, had drawn you out in a way that felt irreversible. His cry was a pull too strong to resist. 

Gently, you reached out, your fingertips brushing his cheeks, tracing the faint stubble along his jaw, the warmth of his skin grounding you in this physical form. 

It was wrong for an immortal entity as ancient as you to take human form— you felt weaker, and your grasp on the unknown faltered. You knew, when you inevitably had to return to your ethereal form, that you would be exhausted. That it would hurt.

But after nearly a century of watching over James Buchanan Barnes, you had to know what his skin felt like.

His breath hitched at your touch. Slowly, his hands rose, trembling, to cover yours, pressing your palms to his face as if he was afraid you might disappear.

He blinked, eyes wide, searching your face. “You’re… real,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, an astonished relief flooding his eyes. “I can feel you.”

You nodded, letting your hands cradle his face, your thumbs softly brushing over his cheekbones. For a while, you stayed like that, letting his mind settle on the reality of you. 

“Who… who are you?” His voice was filled with awe. His gaze locked onto yours, desperate for answers.

You took a steady breath— and it felt off, like you had to learn it. 

You had never needed to breathe before. But now, you needed it as much as you needed him. 

You knew that him knowing what you were wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“I am the Spirit of Suffering,” you said quietly, your voice as soft as the night around you. “I ease the pain of those who suffer, showing myself to those who need me most. For eons, I’ve been drawn to pain, to sorrow. But… I’ve never been drawn to someone like you.”

His brow furrowed, confusion mingling with a sense of awe as he processed your words. He searched your face, as if trying to reconcile the warmth of your touch with the truth.

“You’ve been watching over me?” he murmured, struggling to fully grasp the revelation. 

You nodded, the truth spinning between you like a fragile thread. “Yes,” you admitted, your voice gentle, almost a whisper. “Every time you were in pain, it was my job to be there. The natural forces would not let me stop what happened to you, James, but I could keep you company, share the weight of your sorrow.”

He closed his eyes, his hands still covering yours. His grip on you tightened, trying to anchor himself to this moment. “So all those times I thought I was imagining you…”

“You weren’t,” you said softly, your gaze unwavering. 

He took a shaky breath.

You sat on the bed next to him, feeling the softness of bedsheets for the first time in your eternal existence.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, James.” Your hand drifted down to cover his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath your palm. “In all the lifetimes I’ve witnessed, through all the suffering I’ve felt, I’ve seen people become monsters, lose themselves to pain and suffering. But you… you never let it consume you. No matter how much they took from you, no matter how much you suffered, there’s still kindness in you.” You smiled, a flicker of admiration in your gaze. “You were the first person to show me that suffering doesn’t have to destroy.”

Bucky’s throat tightened. He reached up, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His touch was fleeting, as if he still couldn’t believe you were real. He searched your face, seeing the depth of who you truly  were. He saw your boundless compassion, the centuries, maybe millenia, of understanding that lingered in your gaze. 

You had been more than a dream, more than a figment of his imagination.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with a sincere gratitude, “for helping.” 

As you looked at him, you realised just how much he needed you. And perhaps just how much you needed him.

—

Every night that he called for you, you’d be there for him, sacrificing your eternal strength just for a moment.

Just before the dawn’s first light, you’d pull away from Bucky’s life and disappear, dissolving back into the unknown.

You always lingered as long as you could, your human heart aching at the thought of leaving him alone again. But still, you slipped away, returning to your role as the silent companion of suffering, never able to stay beyond a few hours.

But Bucky kept calling for you.

Sometimes he’d wake from a nightmare, his voice rough with sleep and fear, calling you like a prayer, like you were the only thing anchoring him to this world. Sometimes he’d simply whisper into the dark, reaching out with an open hand, searching for your touch.

And each time, you answered. Despite the strain it placed on you, the unnatural weight of becoming flesh and blood for him, you would come back. You took on human form again and again, letting him feel the warmth of your hands. You told yourself that you could bear it, that his comfort was worth any mortal pain that your immortal spirit had to carry.

One night, in a moment of weakness, as you sat together on the edge of his bed, he looked at you with an intensity that made you feel as if your duties had disappeared. 

The silence stretched, and you could see what his eyes carried. The tenderness, the gratitude, the fierce need for you. He lifted a hand, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek. The softness of his touch reverberated through your flesh and blood. You were suddenly made aware that you had a beating heart as it was pounding against your fragile ribcage.

Before you could process the feeling, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was gentle, soft as a whisper, but it set something inside you alight, a sensation you’d never known before. 

You had seen humanity’s love from a distance, had watched the joy and heartbreak it could bring, but this… this was something beyond mere understanding. His lips were warm and real against yours, the taste of him grounding you in this fleeting human form in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

For a moment, you were frozen, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, the rhythm steady, grounding. And then, almost instinctively, you kissed him back. You leaned into him, feeling the depth of his sorrow and his hope in that single, shared breath. 

Every inch of you felt alive, pulled into his gravity, the intensity of this moment overwhelming every human sense you didn't think you’d ever experience.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I’ve waited so long to feel this,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “To feel you like this.”

You felt a swell of emotion like a lightning strike— something so unfamiliar and impossible to ignore. You were a spirit who had known only of pain and how to relieve it, who had wandered the world in search of suffering to ease, yet this—this was something else entirely. This was desire, love—all foreign feelings that made you want to stay, to linger in his arms a little longer.

But dawn was coming, as it always did. Despite the ache in your chest, you knew you had to go. The world was waiting; and others needed you, too. 

With one last touch, your fingers brushing along his cheek, memorising the feeling of his skin.

You slipped away, dissolving back into the unseen, feeling his absence as if it were a physical wound.

—

It became a brutal cycle.

Every morning you would go, and every other night, when he called, you returned. Each time, the kiss lingered in your memory, the softness of his lips, the rush of your pulse, the racing of a heart that should not be yours to feel. It left you longing, yearning, pulling you back to him over and over, until every time you left felt like you were tearing yourself apart.

And though you slipped away at dawn, leaving Bucky alone with the shadows, you knew that a part of you stayed, lingering there beside him, just waiting for night to fall again so you could return to him.

One night, Bucky reached for you. His touch was gentle and filled with a hunger that was new to you. 

Tonight, he had a human desire for you that you had only observed in passing. His fingers entwined with yours, rough and warm, pulling you closer with a care that sent a strange warmth rushing through you. You sensed a gravity between you, one that seemed to draw every part of your physical form into his orbit, a sensation you never could have understood in your ethereal form.

As he guided you towards his bed, his gaze stayed on yours, searching and vulnerable, as though asking for permission. You felt a flicker of understanding in his silence, a human fragility and need that made your heart—this temporary, fragile, human heart—beat a little faster. 

You nodded.

When he leaned in to kiss you, the sensation was breathtaking, as it always was. 

That night, he showed you the depths of human pleasure, the way mortal love could break open walls so high so intensely that the shockwave that came after felt endless. Every caress of his hands, every whisper against your skin, seared into you like a brand.

Bucky gave you something new, grounding you in sensations you didn’t know were possible. In his arms, your physical senses were overwhelmed by the beauty and ache of human desire.

With each touch, each shared breath, he showed you parts of himself he had never shown anyone in a long, long time.

And as he moved with you, every boundary between the known and unknown seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you, bound in a shared, silent understanding that felt more ethereal than anything you’ve ever encountered.

When it was over, he held you close, his fingers tracing soft, slow patterns across your skin.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder— it was the truth. His eyes met yours, laying his heart bare for you to do whatever you pleased with it. To cherish or to break, he really didn’t care, as long as you were the one holding onto it. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but I do.”

In those words, you finally understood humanity’s deepest, truest suffering—the need to love and be loved.

For eons, you had only known suffering, solitude. The burden of easing pain without truly being seen, without knowing love in its purest form. But with Bucky, it was different.

“I love you too, James,” you whispered. It was a confession, as much a promise as it was a revelation. And you meant it. You felt a love that was boundless, stretching far beyond what this temporary human form of yours could contain.

Days passed, and each night, he would pull you close, his touch tender, his words gentle. His love was a constant that anchored you in this fragile, borrowed form. But each morning, as the first light crept over the horizon, you would pull yourself away, fading back into the shadows. 

Every time you left, you saw the ache in his eyes, a silent plea that grew more desperate with each parting.

—

One night, after holding you in silence, you felt Bucky suffered more than he ever did before.

You felt the sorrow, and even you couldn't calm him down from this desperate longing that had fragmented his heart into a million pieces— it was knowledge that you couldn’t truly be his and that he couldn’t truly be yours that had caused this pain. It was knowing that, as long as you were immortal, you couldn’t possibly belong to a mortal man.

“Please stay,” he whispered, his hands shaking as they held you. “Don’t go. I can’t… I can’t keep saying goodbye. I don’t want to only see you in fragments of stolen time.” He squeezed you. His eyes were filled with a raw, desperate longing. “I want you here— with me. Always.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. You wanted to say yes, to let yourself stay, to finally surrender to this love and the peace it offered. But you knew better than anyone of your nature. You were bound to the suffering of others, woven into the fabric of pain that had defined you for a long, long time.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, the words breaking as you forced them out. “I want to, more than anything. But I… I’m not meant to stay. There are others who need me.”

A flash of pain crossed his face, and he closed his eyes, trying to swallow the heartache that threatened to bury him. He nodded, though you could see struggle that lingered in the lines on his face.

“Just stay a little longer tonight,” he murmured, his voice tight, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips.

And so you held him a little longer, feeling the fragility of this human connection, the knowing that you would have to let him go. You stayed with him until the stars faded from the sky, until the dawn began to creep over the horizon. And as you finally pulled away, slipping back into the shadows, you felt a piece of yourself break, a piece that would always belong to him, no matter how far you wandered.

—

One day, as Bucky’s heart prepared to stop beating, you stood by him, devastated.

You were there as a phantom, feeling his soul slip through your fingers as he lay on the concrete after a mission gone wrong. He was unconscious, his life hanging by a thread as he fought to come back from the edge. In all the centuries of comforting humanity, you had never felt such fear, such desperation. 

While you watched him, fragile and fading away, you felt something shatter deep within you.

His breath was shallow— his fate uncertain. He would only have minutes to live. 

But you couldn’t lose him. 

So you made a choice that you had once thought impossible. 

With a heavy heart, you turned and sought out the one being who held the power to intervene: Rio Vidal, Death herself.

Death came to you quietly when you summoned her to the darkness neither of you occupied. She moved with an eternal calm, her presence as vast and ancient as the stars. She looked at you, her dark eyes filled with the weight of ages that rivalled your own. Her stare was neither evil nor kind. 

You knew that she'd already understood why you called for her. 

“Don’t take him,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Not now.” You were pathetic, desperation rising in frantically— a desperation that followed you into your ethereal form, an ache that you hadn’t known could exist in your immortal heart. “For the first time, I’ve found someone… someone I love. I can’t lose him.”

Rio regarded you quietly, her expression unreadable. She had seen countless souls come and go. She had met lovers, warriors, and spirits alike, each bargaining for one more breath, one more chance. But she had also never seen you — Suffering herself— here, pleading for a life. You, who had roamed the earth for centuries without attachment, a solitary being who moved through suffering like water, soothing but never bound. 

To see you now, so deeply connected, intrigued her.

Perhaps, she gave you a chance because she once felt this way, too.

“What would you give?” she asked softly, sheathing back her blade.

The answer rose in you, going again your own soul’s warning. 

“I’d give my immortality,” you replied without a second thought. “One day, you can take my soul, too. Just let me live beside him for as long as he has. Let me trade eternity for a single lifetime with him.”

Rio was silent for a long time, her gaze thoughtful, searching. 

“Do you understand what you’re offering?” she asked, her voice a blend of curiosity and pity. “To become mortal is to surrender everything you have known—the ability to exist beyond pain and beyond time itself. You would feel suffering as they do, you would face the limitations of flesh as they do.”

"I’m sure.” you nodded with nothing but conviction, “I would rather face an end, rather give up everything, than live without him for a single moment."

Rio studied you one last time, her stare as vast as the void between stars. Then, slowly, she inclined her head, a flicker of respect in her eyes. 

"When he is gone, I will come for you, too." Her voice softened just a little. "Cherish this life. It is not easily won."

When she vanished, you felt the world shift around you, felt your soul ground itself in ways it never had before. Your body solidified, your senses sharpened, and you felt, for the first time, the steady permanent rhythm of a heartbeat pulsing within your chest. 

You were no longer the Spirit of Suffering, bound to pain and sorrow. You, now permanently, were flesh and blood– human in every sense. 

And for the first time in forever, you felt real— mortal, permanently.

—

Bucky was recovering, weak but alive.

When you knocked on his door, he opened it, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you standing there, no longer a fleeting vision that appeared in his room.

You walked all the way here, your barefoot aching from the harshness of the concrete.

You were solid, as real as he was, standing on his doorstep with tears in your eyes.

He had never seen you cry before. He wasn't even sure if you could.

"You're… you’re here," he whispered, reaching out as if to touch you, to be certain that you were truly there. His fingers brushed your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin, and his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing along your cheekbone as if committing this moment to memory. “You feel different,” he murmured, awe in his voice. 

“I’m here to stay,” you said, voice brimming with love you could barely contain, your own hand lifting to cover his. 

He let out a shaky breath, and his eyes searched yours, filling with a warmth and disbelief so deep that it mirrored your own. He pulled you into his arms, holding you as though afraid you might vanish again.

But you didn’t. 

You were here, bathed in sunlight, and real.

You melted into his embrace, feeling the thrumming of his veins against yours, knowing that, finally, your heart would beat alongside his for as long as time allowed.

-end 

Read the sequel to this story: Symptom of Life

I would love to explore this further! Maybe Bucky helps you find a name, maybe even pulls some strings to give you a fake birth certificate and ID. Maybe he realises that time is fleeting and has a courthouse wedding with you ASAP.

Maybe Bucky introduces you to Sam as his wife, and he realises that he’s seen you before, when Riley got shot out of the sky.

Maybe Bucky introduces you to the Thunderbolts* as his wife, and they all would have seen you before, at some point in their life:

Yelena would have seen you when she stood over Nat’s memorial.

Alexei would have seen you when he got separated from his girls for the first time.

John would’ve seen you when he killed that flag smasher with Cap’s shield, grieving Lemar.

Ava would have seen you when she was a kid, phasing out in and out uncontrollably in extreme pain.

Antonia would’ve seen you when the bomb blew on her face.

Or maybe I could explore more of how it affects you. How you now have human guilt to live with, knowing there’s no one out there anymore easing human suffering. Now, you also have to deal with your own human suffering.

Maybe people keep recognising you, keep pointing you out as if they’ve seen a ghost because you once came to them in a time of need.

Maybe you keep your powers? Maybe I should explore how those powers would manifest in a human body?

Anyway, let me know if you’re interested in any of these ideas and I might write them!

[liz-on-leash]

Live To Breed

[Commissioned]

VIVIZ SinB/Hwang Eunbi

Gangrape, Mentioned Death, BBC Tribesmen, Breeding, A Lot Of Cum, Vaginal Fuck, Anal, Pregnant Fuck, Some Other Heavy Stuff.

3,919 Word.

The day started like any other for VIVIZ, but shit was about to hit the fan in the most fucked-up way possible. SinB, the feisty one, Eunha, and sweet Umji were bouncing around in their jeep, deep in the heart of the African jungle, looking for some thrill.

The girls were living their best lives, laughing and joking, when all hell broke loose. A freaking stampede came outta nowhere, like some shit from a horror movie. The driver hit the brakes, but it was a lost cause. 

The jeep went flying, and SinB went airborne, straight into a goddamn tree. Her clothes ripped like wet tissue paper, and she was left bruised and bleeding, screaming her lungs out.

"FUUUUCK!" SinB howled in agony, her voice raw as a guttural scream. Her sexy outfit was in shreds, exposing her smooth skin, now marked with scratches and cuts that would make a horror flick proud. 

She tried to get her ass up, but her body was like jelly, trembling and weak. Where the hell were Eunha and Umji? She cried out for them, her voice fading in the vast jungle.

The jungle, usually buzzing with life, went dead quiet, like it was mourning the crazy shit that just went down. SinB's pleas for help bounced off the trees, her voice cracking with each desperate call. 

The pain was a bitch, clouding her vision, but she fought to stay conscious, refusing to black out. As the sun started its slow descent, painting the sky with fiery colors, a crew of hulking dudes appeared, straight out of a tribal wet dream. 

These motherfuckers were ripped, their dark skin glistening with sweat, and all they wore were tiny-ass loincloths that left nothing to the imagination. Their bodies were inked up with tribal tats, and their eyes held a wild intensity.

SinB's mouth hung open as she took in the sight, momentarily forgetting her pain. These dudes were built like gods, and their sheer size made her feel like a tiny doll. 

They muttered to each other in some ancient tongue, their deep voices rumbling like thunder, probably discussing the hot mess of a woman in front of them.

"Help... please, help me," SinB managed to whisper, her voice scratchy and weak. The men's eyes narrowed, their gazes intense enough to burn holes through her. 

They didn't give a shit about her plea, probably thinking she was some crazy jungle spirit. The biggest dude among them strode over, his muscles flexing with each step. He scooped SinB up like she weighed nothing, causing her to whimper.

This beast of a man carried her through the jungle like she was his prize catch. SinB's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar sights of their camp. It was like a scene from a National Geographic documentary, with buff dudes going about their business, their bodies glistening with sweat and dirt.

These savages didn't waste time with pleasantries. They ripped what was left of SinB's clothes, leaving her in her skimpy underwear, her curves on full display. 

She tried to cover up, but these guys didn't give a damn about modesty. They cleaned her wounds, their rough hands exploring her body, and wrapped her up with some dirty-ass cloth.

"Fuck off!" SinB tried to fight, but it was like a kitten swatting at a lion. A sharp slap landed on her face. "Ugh!" She tasted blood, her lip split open. Another jab to her ribs had her gasping, reminding her just how helpless she was.

The men finished patching her up and shoved some weird-ass herbal shit down her throat. SinB choked and spluttered, her eyes watering from the bitter taste. 

Satisfied, two of them grabbed her, ignoring her weak struggles, and hauled her ass to a nearby barn. Inside, it was like a damn dungeon, filled with terrified women from different corners of the world.

The women were a sorry sight, some crying their eyes out, others moaning in pain, their bellies swollen with pregnancy. SinB's heart hammered in her chest as she realized she'd landed in some tribal sex cult's lair. She tried to scream, but her voice was shot.

Just then, all hell broke loose outside. A group of the tribal dudes, their massive cocks swinging free, dragged a screaming woman outta the camp. Her pleas were met with laughter and crude catcalls.

The men's laughter was like a sick chorus, their eyes wild with lust. SinB's blurry vision focused on their massive dicks, already hard as steel, ready to invade some poor woman's body.

The men wasted no time, and the woman's screams echoed through the camp, a haunting soundtrack to the night's twisted festivities. SinB's eyes fluttered, her mind overwhelmed by the day's events. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was the terrified faces of the captive women, knowing their fate was about to get a whole lot worse.

The night had turned into a fucked-up, twisted sex fest, and SinB was front-row center for this sick tribal ritual. Her eyes popped open as the barn erupted with screams and moans.

The women, who were once crying their eyes out, were now getting pounded by these tribal beasts, their cries echoing like a damn horror movie.

"Oh fuck, mercy, please! No more!" a woman begged, her voice raw from screaming her lungs out. But the men just kept pounding her from every angle, their dark, sweaty bodies slamming into her like wild animals.

"Harder, you motherfuckers! Break me in half!" another chick screamed, her body bucking as two dudes took turns drilling her, their cocks stretching her holes like she was some damn sex toy. 

The scene was brutal, but damn, it was hot as hell. Even the preggo ladies weren't off-limits.

"No, not my ass! My baby... oh, fuck, no!" a pregnant woman wailed, her eyes rolling back as a dude hammered her ass, not giving a damn about her swollen belly. The sight was enough to make SinB's stomach churn.

SinB's eyes were like saucers, taking in the savage display of raw, animalistic fucking. Her body ached to run, but she might as well have been glued to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but it was like trying to escape a pack of hungry wolves.

"Please, just let me go, you bastards!" SinB's voice was raspy, barely a whisper.

These dudes weren't having any of it. They grabbed her like she was their personal plaything. One dude chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

They pinned her down, their rough hands holding her arms and legs, spreading her wide open like a buffet. SinB screamed and kicked, but it only made these animals harder.

"Let me go, you animals! Help!" SinB's pleas were desperate, but they just laughed, their eyes wild with lust.

The dude on top of her, his cock already hard as steel, ripped her panties off like they were nothing. "No, stop! Get your hands off me!" SinB shouted, her voice breaking as he groped her tits, squeezing and twisting her sensitive nipples until she saw stars.

Pissed off by her resistance, the dude stood up and stomped on her stomach, making her gag and cough. Before SinB could catch her breath, another dude was on top of her, his thick cock aiming straight for her mouth.

SinB's eyes widened as his cock invaded her, stretching her jaws to the max. This dude was packing an anaconda, and it hit the back of her throat, making her gag and choke.

He grunted, face-fucking her like a pro. SinB's throat bulged, moving up and down, her eyes watering, snot and spit flying as he pounded her face. Another dude cheered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.

The dude pounding her face went to town, his balls slapping against her chin, making her gag and choke some more. SinB's body shook, her bound hands clawing at the dirt, her throat working overtime to take that massive cock.

He growled, his hips slamming into her aching throat. SinB's eyes rolled back, tears mixing with the spit and snot as she struggled to breathe. Her throat was on fire, but this dude wasn't letting up, his cock throbbing, ready to unload his cum down her throat.

The barn had become a twisted, hardcore sex dungeon, where SinB's screams and the other women's cries were the soundtrack to a night of brutal, non-stop gangrape.

The tribal black men were on a roll, and SinB's mouth was their fuck toy. These motherfuckers took turns shoving their thick, veiny cocks down her throat, face-fucking her like she was their personal cum dumpster. 

SinB choked and gagged, her eyes watering like a waterfall as she tried to take their massive cocks. One guy gripped her hair like a leash as he pounded her face. SinB's throat was getting fucked raw, her gag reflex going crazy, but these animals just kept going harder.

Another guy shouted, slapping her face with his thick palm. SinB's cheeks stung, but he didn't give a shit as he jammed his cock down her throat, making her eyes bulge like a cartoon.

"Can't... breathe!" SinB managed to gasp between the thrusts, her voice muffled and desperate. But these savages just laughed, their rough hands holding her head like a pet, forcing her to take their cocks.

One after another, they blasted their hot cum down her throat, making her swallow their seed like it was her job. SinB's belly was swelling, her throat on fire, and she felt like she was gonna puke her guts out.

"No more... gonna puke!" she whimpered, her eyes pleading for mercy but a hard slap landed on her cheek, making her see stars.

One man growled, grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth open for his throbbing cock. SinB gagged, her throat convulsing as he face-fucked her with zero fucks given.

These native men were all about getting their rocks off, and they didn't care about her comfort. Some even used her hands and thighs to jerk off, covering her skin with their hot, sticky loads. SinB's body was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and bruises.

The barn was a horror show, with women's screams and moans filling the air. SinB's eyes darted around, witnessing shit that would give her nightmares for life.

"Help... I'm pregnant! Have mercy!" a woman begged, her belly shook as two men double-battered her pussy and ass. The poor chick was screaming, but they just kept pounding until she went quiet, her body limp and her holes bleeding.

A man grunted, his cock buried deep in the ass of a woman who was clearly out cold. SinB watched in horror as he pumped away, not giving a damn about the blood or the fact that she wasn't even conscious.

“No, no, no– Oh god!" another woman cried, her body arched and bruised as three huge black men took turns violating her. Her screams turned to whines, then silence as the pain overwhelmed her.

SinB's throat was on fire, and her stomach felt like it was gonna explode from all the cum she'd been forced to swallow. When a cock finally pulled out of her mouth, she puked, spewing a mix of cum and bile.

"Fuck— argh, can't swallow anymore!" she begged. But they didn't give a shit. A sharp slap landed on her mouth, making her eyes water.

A man barked, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock back in her mouth. SinB gagged and choked, her throat working achingly to take his thickness as he fucked her face with no mercy. These tribesmen made sure to mark her as their territory. 

They flooded her mouth, on her body, and even made her lick their balls. SinB's body trembled in disgust, her throat and mouth abused, but they just kept going, their cocks throbbing and unloading their semen wherever they pleased. 

Time had lost all meaning for SinB as the assault on her mouth continued. These tribal studs had been using her face as their personal cum dump for hours, forcing her to swallow load after load, even as she puked it all up. 

Her stomach felt like it was gonna burst, her belly swollen and hard, a testament to the endless cumshots she'd been forced to take.

SinB's body was a mess, her once flawless skin now glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. 

Her lips were swollen and bruised, gaping open as if they'd forgotten how to close, and her throat was on fire, like she'd swallowed a flaming blade. She couldn't feel her face anymore; it was just a numb, throbbing mess.

Her curvy body had gone limp, her arms splayed out on the dirty ground, but the men held her head up, ensuring her mouth was always available for their pleasure, cocks sliding down her throat, making her gag and choke, her eyes rolling back in her head.

SinB's mind was fuzzy, her body exhausted, but the men showed no signs of stopping. Her throat was so fucked, it felt like a permanent part of their cocks was lodged in there. She couldn't even swallow her own spit without pain.

As another thick release was forced down her throat, SinB's body went into overdrive. She convulsed, her eyes rolling back, and for a moment, she thought she was gonna pass out. The man finally pulled out, letting her fall to the ground like a ragdoll.

SinB gasped for air, her body twitching uncontrollably, her throat and mouth leaking cum and saliva. She lay there, unable to move, her eyes pleading for this nightmare to end. The men, however, seemed to be just getting started.

They stood around her, stroking their hard cocks, their eyes wild with lust as they discussed their next move. SinB prayed for death, for the sweet release of unconsciousness, but the gods weren't listening.

Suddenly, a massive man stepped on her swollen stomach, making her cry out in pain. He twisted his foot, and SinB's body betrayed her, spewing cum and pee, her throat and pussy leaking like broken faucets.

"Oh god– fucking hurts…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man just laughed, his deep voice echoing in her ears. He then grabbed her ankles, dragging her out of the barn, away from the screams of the other tortured women.

SinB's heart sank as she realized this was far from over. She was being dragged to the center of the camp, where a crowd of over fifty tribal men awaited, their bodies naked and glistening with some ritual oil.

"No… just kill me," SinB mumbled, her voice weak and defeated. She wanted this torture to end, but the men had other plans. The idol's worst fears were about to be realized as the tribe prepared for a night of depraved rituals.

SinB was done fighting, her body limp as a rag doll as the men chained her up like a sacrificial lamb in the middle of this tribal orgy. They tossed her onto the wooden platform, her stomach heaving, causing her to spew out the cum she'd swallowed earlier.

The men were quick to secure her, chaining her wrists and neck, ensuring she was their helpless plaything. Her curvy body was on full display, the torchlight highlighting every inch of her skin.

A dude with a lean build grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he poured some weird-ass green liquid down her throat. It was some tribal shit to keep her awake and ready for their sick games. SinB gagged on the bitter taste, but at this point, she was beyond caring.

The crowd went wild as the first man stepped into the spotlight, his cock so big it swung between his legs like a damn pendulum. This dude was a fuckin' beast, and he was about to tear SinB a new one.

He crouched down, his hands gripping her soft hips like they were made for him. He lifted her ass, positioning her on her knees, showcasing her plump, round cheeks. The motherfucker poured oil on her ass, his touch making her tremble.

SinB's ass was a sight to behold, and this dude knew it. He massaged the oil into her skin, his thick-ass thumb getting dangerously close to her tight hole. With a deliberate move, he pushed his thumb into her asshole, making her scream like a banshee.

"Fuck! Stop, you bastard!" SinB cursed, her body going rigid as she felt her ass being stretched beyond its limits. The dude's thumb worked her hole, making her scream and beg, her struggles against the chains useless.

The pain was off the charts, her ass on fire as he finger-fucked her, preparing her for the main event. SinB twisted and turned, her body a mess of desperation, but the dude held her hips like a vice.

Before she knew it, his thumb was out, and his massive cock was at her entrance, ready to breach her tight hole. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her ass, making her eyes roll back.

"Ahhhh, fuck! It's too big! It's splitting me— it's in my guts!" SinB screamed, her voice shaking. 

His cock was a monster, tearing through her sphincter like it was nothing. She felt it stretching her insides, poking places no cock should go.

The man held her hips, his cock buried balls-deep, and started pounding her ass like it was a punching bag. SinB's body jolted with each thrust, her pee spraying out as her bladder broken.

The crowd went nuts, their cheers filling the air as the man brutalized her ass, his cock owning her with each brutal stroke. SinB's screams were music to their ears.

The big dude was merciless, slamming his cock into SinB's ass like a jackhammer, her body taking the full force. Her legs were straight, toes pointed, as she endured the sensation of being impaled, her asshole stretched to its limits. It felt like she was trying to poop out a watermelon, but it just kept going deeper.

SinB's eyes were rolled back, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she groaned and whimpered. Her pale tits scraped against the rough wood with each jerking motion. 

The man grunted like a wild animal, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock even deeper. SinB's ass clenched around him, milking his cock as he pounded her hole. 

The pleasure was too much, with a few more deep thrusts, he exploded inside her, his hot cum filling her ass. He pulled out, his cock glistening with lube and cum, leaving SinB's ass gaping and sore. 

She collapsed onto the platform, her body trembling, unable to move or speak. But there was no respite for the idol.

Another tall, muscular guy stepped up, his cock already slick with oil. He knelt behind her, slapping her leaking pussy, making her jerk and whimper. SinB knew the routine by now, and she bit her lip, bracing herself for the incoming invasion.

A few men gathered around her head, their cocks in hand, stroking and getting off on the sight of her oily, abused body. One dude even stepped on her head, his foot pressing down as he admired the show.

The man behind her positioned his thick cockhead at her pussy lips, teasing her entrance. SinB's body tensed, anticipating the pain. With a slow gesture, he pushed inside, making her moan and arch her back.

"Ahh, shit, shit— My pussy, uhhh!" SinB cried out as his swollen tip popped through her tight pussy lips, stretching her beyond her limits right away. Her pussy clenched around his cock, resisting the invasion, but he kept forcing his way in, inch by inch.

The man was tenacious, his cock a battering ram, pushing past her resistant flesh. SinB screamed and shook, her body a mess of pain as he yanked her onto his cock, burying it deep in her pussy.

Her pee sprayed around his girth, an indication of the intensity of the insertion. The men laughed, their eyes wild with unsatiated lust as the man kept punching her inner walls, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust. 

The sudden pleasure was intense, causing SinB's body to tremble and convulse, her pussy clenching around his cock as she climaxed, her juices flowing and mixing with his. But the pleasure was short-lived as his cock kept pounding, hitting her cervix with lethal impact, causing searing pain.

"Ahhh! Fuck, stop!" SinB cried, her body arching off the platform as the man lost control, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. Blood trickled down her thighs as her pussy was torn and ravaged, the pain almost unbearable.

The man was in a trance, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, breeding her pussy with his cum. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices and blood, leaving SinB's pussy gaping and sore.

The men weren't done with her yet. They forced her to drink more of their herbal drugs, keeping her conscious. They even splashed water on her, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body, their rough hands scrubbing her skin.

SinB's body was chained tighter, her wrists and neck secured, ensuring she couldn't escape the breeding that awaited her. More tribesmen lined up, their cocks hard and ready to take over her abused holes.

Day after day, the ritual continued, with over 60 men taking their turns with her every single day. They raped her solo, double-penetrated her, and even tried triple penetration, stretching - tearing her holes beyond their limits. SinB's screams and moans were a constant soundtrack in the camp.

The only sustenance she received was their cum, fed to her by force, enough to keep her alive and fertile for their breeding games. Her memories of her past life as an idol faded, replaced by the constant sensation of huge cocks filling her sore, aching holes.

For weeks, SinB's disappearance was headline news in South Korea. The authorities found Eunha and Umji's bodies, but SinB remained a mystery. Little did they know, she was deep in the African jungle, being bred by a tribe of men.

Weeks turned into a blur for SinB, her body now permanently marked by the tribe's ownership. Her once flat stomach now sported a slight bulge, a result of the countless times she'd been bred. 

The men had moved her to the barn, where she joined the ranks of other pregnant women, all awaiting the birth of their tribal offspring.

SinB was on all fours, a leash around her neck, her body of stretch marks and bruises. Two tribesmen stood beside her, their rough hands massaging her swollen breasts, tugging at her nipples until milk squirted into a bucket, proof of her fertility - the only reason that kept her alive.

Behind her, a group of men took turns with her ass, their cocks pounding her hole to stimulate her milk production. Her pussy, already dripping with cum from the men who had just used her, was a constant reminder of her fate.

The once vibrant K-pop idol was gone, replaced by a shell of a woman, her body a vessel for the tribe's pleasure and procreation. 

SinB's mind was a haze, her memories of her past life fading with each brutal fucking. She was now a breeding machine, her body existing solely to produce the next generation of this unknown tribe.

[remiratboi]

Float

Masterlist

Yandere!G/NTentacleMonsterXG/NFatReader

CW: Near death, drowning, grief, loss of family to car accident (mentioned, not explicit), monster fucking, noncon that turns to dubcon, stalking, yandere, tentacles, obsession, ovipositor, breeding, oviposition, anal, insertion, maybe Stockholm Syndrome?

The waves lapped at your edges. The sky above you was overcast and threatening to rain. You gazed up from where you floated on the water. It was serene and peaceful.

You loved this lake. Every summer you and your family had spent their summers at this lake, in their vacation cabin. It was just up the beach a short ways. Now, you’re an adult, and your family is gone. This cabin became your haven.

For a few years after the incident, you tried keeping up a job, but your heart wasn’t in it anymore. You sold everything you owned, took that and your inheritance, and moved permanently to the little two bedroom cabin.

It was secluded and only a few other families had homes here. You were the only one who lived here year round.

It was for those reasons you regularly felt comfortable enough to wade into the waters, naked. It was freeing. Being in nature, no restrictions, just floating. You felt like you were one with the soft waves.

Scattered droplets of rain plunked into the water around you. It was soft and slow. You knew you should head to shore. The clouds threatened worse than some rain. It would be just like you to get electrocuted in the middle of nowhere. You rolled your eyes at yourself.

5 more minutes, you thought. If the rain got a lot worse, you’d go quicker. But you loved these moments. The sky darkening by the second, rain falling around you. Totally isolated and at peace.

You shouldn’t have waited those meaningless 5 more minutes.

It started with a light brush on your ankle. You wrote it off as weeds or a small fish. When something wrapped around your calf, though, it was harder to ignore.

You splashed in the water, trying to jerk your leg away. Whatever was holding it, held tight. A cold panic ran through your body. This was a small, very inland, fresh water lake. Nothing here should be able to grip you the way this thing was. Your analytical brain ran through a hundred different possibilities while you thrashed.

You tried swimming anyway, but very quickly found yourself turned around as the storm raised the waves higher. Tears rolled down your face. You gripped the… thing on your leg and tried to wrench it off. It held tight. It felt like flesh, something pulsed. It seemed content to just hold your leg, and soon it became the least of your worries.

Waves crashed around you, pushing you under. You fought against the pressure, gasping breaths when you could. Lightning flashed in the sky. Close, too close.

A part you relaxed when you consciously realized you were going to die. You had been fighting for so long. Desperately trying to live and function. But your mental health had been bad long before your entire family died in a tragic car accident. At this point, you were shocked to realize, you almost welcomed death. Well, not death so much, as silence. No longer listening to the voices in your head. No longer missing those you’d lost. While you didn’t desire death, you found it didn’t upset you as much as you’d expected.

Another flash of lighting. The sky was almost black now. Your chest was full of water, and your muscles burned. You didn’t want to fight anymore.

You closed your eyes and stilled your limbs. The waves pushed you down immediately. Your chest burned as you tried not to breathe in the water, but soon you couldn’t help yourself. You gasped and water rushed in. It was more painful than you’d expected. You opened your eyes and gazed up at the surface of the water. You could see its movements, but it felt like it was a thousand miles away.

Some part of your brain registered that the thing holding your leg tightened. The water around you started moving faster. Your vision started to fade and you tried to focus on all the happiest moments of your life. Thinking grew harder until all you could picture was your favourite family photo from a few christmases ago. Their smiling faces brought you comfort as the world slipped away.

*********

You were wrenched back to life and heaved water from your lungs. You sat up, coughing, tears streaming down your face. You were freezing. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but you found yourself on a smooth, damp stone in what appeared to be a cave. The water was black and inky next to you.

You sat naked, and shivering. Where were you? Was this death?

“Why are you so sad?” A smooth voice rung out, startling you. You couldn’t identify where it came from as it bounced off the cave walls. It seemed to have some light accent to it. The way the words were said felt overly enunciated and clipped.

You gathered your knees to your chest and tried to cover your body. You couldn’t help a shiver roll through you.

“Please, why are you so sad?” The voice asked again. You thought it came from the water.

“Wh… who are you?” You stuttered out.

“Rav” the voice replied.

“Rav? Is that your name?” You asked.

“Name.” The voiced seemed to play with the word. “Rav is me. Who are you?”

“Um, Rav, where are we?” You ignored their question.

“Near home.” Rav answered. You thought you could make out an area of water that didn’t behave like the rest.

“Near my home?” You moved your head to the side to try to catch a different angle of the creature.

“My home.” Rav answered. You nodded to yourself.

“Can you come closer?” The fear almost stopped you from asking. Rav didn’t answer for a moment, but then you saw the water ripple.

Slowly they came into your view. You didn’t even know what to call them. Creature seemed accurate. They had a humanoid head, but their skin was as black as the water. They had large all black eyes and no nose. Their lips looked human, but the gills on their neck told you they didn’t need a mouth to breathe.

“Hi.” You said, then chuckled at yourself. What a ridiculous thing to say in a ridiculous situation.

“Hello.” Rav replied. They continued up the rock and emerged from the water. Their body far surpassed their head in strangeness. They had limbs similar to arms and legs, but they were long, thick tentacles. They had several smaller tentacles along their torso. These seemed to move of their own will, squirming and writhing. Rav walked… slithered? You weren’t sure, up the rock towards you. They were also naked, but didn’t seem to share human anatomy.

“Will you take me home?” You looked up into their black eyes above you. Rav looked down at you with what you thought to be an amused smile.

“Home not safe for you. Deep.” You thought that they didn’t have any problems with speech, but their knowledge seemed to be limited.

“My home.” You clarified. Rav shook their head.

“You are so sad at home.” You laughed self deprecatingly at their words.

“It’s not about the home. I’m just sad.”

“Rav make you happy.” They said and held out a hand… tentacle.

“Uh, thank you, but I am quite happy on my own.” You didn’t take their tentacle.

“You killed yourself.” Rav stated, unconvinced.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” You forced a wide, fake smile. Rav didn’t seem to believe you.

“You cry often.” Rav shook their head sadly. “Rav can’t watch anymore.”

Watch?!

“Yeah, I… uh I lost some people I love, and it’s been hard. But I’m ok, really. It’s part of moving on.” You hesitantly reached out and patted their still extended tentacle.

“Rav will help you.” They answered, and smiled a strange, eerie smile at you. You guessed they were trying to imitate yours. “Rav has loved you for a long time.”

Loved?!

“You don’t know me?” You started feeling uneasy and tried scooting back on the rock. You became very aware of your nakedness.

“Rav does know you. Rav has watched you for many years. You are always so sad, and Rav can fix that. Rav can love you, can make you feel good.” They stepped forward, claiming back the space you’d put between you.

“Th-thank you for saving me, now please take me home, I want to go home.” You pushed further until a hard wall pressed against your back. Rav continued stepping forward.

“No. Rav can… I can show you.” They spoke slowly. You had to credit how fast they seemed to learn, but that didn’t stop you from cowering at their feet.

You felt something slide up your leg again and you thrashed, trying to escape. It was like blood in the water and with your movement, suddenly their tentacles were everywhere. Your arms were quickly gripped and pulled straight out. Your legs unbent and spread also. In a flash, you were spread eagle in the air, hanging just above Rav, trapped by their tentacles. Tears ran down your face again. It wasn’t hard to guess what they meant by “make you feel good”.

More tentacles joined the others, seemingly unending. They ran over your bare cunt. You were ashamed that in that moment, you thought about how long it had been since you’d been fucked. A part of you almost wanted this. You were so lonely. And Rav was right, you were so sad. You tried snapping yourself out of it.

One tentacle sucked onto your clit and pulsed. You couldn’t help the cry of surprise that ripped itself from your lips. This just seemed to fuel the creature in front of you. They plunged a thick tentacle into your cunt, in one deep thrust. You cried out half in pain and half in pleasure.

Rav didn’t seem to have much experience, but what they lacked, they made up for in sheer number of appendages. They seemed desperate, tentacles roaming over every inch of your body. Each noise, movement, or reaction from you made them repeat the action that had elicited it. They played with your nipples and clit. Those seemed to pull the best reactions from you.

Another tentacle pushed against your ass, and before you could even gargle out a plea, it plunged just as deep as the one in your cunt. You moaned loudly. Two thick tentacles rested inside you. The sucker on your clit continued pulsing. A new tentacle circled your throat and rested near your lips. Rav seemed to understand you needed to breathe, but it played with your lips, pushing in slightly, exploring.

After a while of this, you started feeling desperate yourself. Rav was playing with you. Their tentacles stayed still inside you, the one on your clit pushing you along, but never tipping you over the edge.

You squirmed, trying desperately to deny your desire. You didn’t want this. You wouldn’t beg. They would get bored eventually. Right?

“Please.” you felt yourself mutter.

“Please?” Rav replied in a questioning tone.

“Please ma-make me cum.” So much for not begging.

“Cum?” They questioned again.

“M-move them.” You stuttered out. You ground your hips into the tentacles for emphasis. Rav looked from your face to your cunt, confused. It seemed to dawn on them what you wanted as you pushed yourself against their tentacles.

Rav thrust the two even deeper inside you. You let out a mangled cry and your vision was full of speckles.

“Too deep!” You cried. Rav pulled the tentacles back out, almost leaving your body all together. Then they thrust them back in, but only to about where they had them the first time. You moaned loudly and leaned your head back. Now they understood.

Rav started pushing the two thick tentacles in and out of you at a wicked pace. You practically screamed and writhed on them. After a long time of being kept on edge, your orgasm crashed through you almost instantly. You squeezed your eyes shut. Rav didn’t stop pounding into you.

Their pace didn’t falter. You felt so full. Two, thick, long tentacles curled deep inside you. You could feel the suckers along them pulling at your insides. It was incredible and bizarre. It wasn’t long until a second orgasm ripped through you.

“You’re ready.” Rav said, focus solely on your dripping cunt.

“Wha…” you tried to ask, but your brain was starting to feel like mush. You felt like you were floating again.

The tentacle in your cunt withdrew, while the other stayed, but slowed down. It lazily moved in and out of you. Something new pressed against your cunt and you gathered your strength to pull your head up. A slit had opened on Rav’s lower half and a thick, very bulbous tentacle had emerged. It pressed against you. It was wider than the other, but not by much, and your cunt was dripping. Your fat pussy lips embraced the tip of whatever this was.

Rav groaned as they slowly pushed the new tentacle into you. It settled against your cervix. They didn’t move this one. You watched as something glowing could be seen moving from their body, through the tentacle. It was slightly larger than the tentacle, and made a round imprint as it moved. You froze.

“Wait-” you started. You tried, in vain, to wiggle away. Rav tightened their grip.

The thing moved out of your view and you felt it inside you. Soon it was pressing against your cervix. You cried out and sobbed. The pain was incredible. You tried frantically to squirm away, but it was no use. You felt the thing push through and enter your deepest parts.

To your horror, another glowing egg started travelling towards your pussy. And another. Soon the tentacle was full of them. You begged with incoherent words. It was no use.

Egg after egg pushed into you. Your stomach bulged with them. A faint glow shone through your skin. You blacked out at one point, and were awoken by a painful orgasm. It burned, and fuelled you. You started enjoying the feeling of the eggs slip into you. You had never felt so full before.

Finally, stomach tight and glowing, Rav pulled out of you. They lowered you and pressed you against their body. Something like a coo came out of their mouth and they looked down at you with what couldn’t be mistaken for anything but complete adoration.

“You did very good.” They comforted. You found yourself blushing and hiding your face against their chest. For some reason you felt safe. Some part of you recognized that was insane, but you had been alone, so truly, bitterly alone for so long. Years. Was it really so bad to let this creature comfort you?

*********

In the weeks that followed, Rav returned you to your home. They couldn’t be out of water for long, but they spent as much time as they could with you. You’d sit in the bathroom and read to them while they sat in the tub. As it turns out, they were incredibly intelligent, and wildly curious. They had an innocence you had never experienced.

They were clever too. Witty as all hell, and kind. As your stomach grew, so did your feelings. As crazy as it was, you fell in love with this creature. They were also alone. Their family didn’t seem to work the way humans did. They didn’t stay, they weren’t raised. They were laid and left. But Rav had spent their childhood watching you and your family. They wanted something different.

Somehow, in the strangest way, you had both found a new family. You were, finally, happy.

[dearieshima]

“THE DOLL… ITS ALIVE!”

✦SUMMARY

╰┈➤ Your boyfriend, as clumsy as he is, foolishly wins you a doll at the county fair that will forever change your life. #KINKTOBER2024

"Take it," he growled. "Take, every, last, inch!" His hips slammed into yours with every pronounced word of his command. "Gonna pump this pussy full. Flood your womb with my seed."

✦ C.W

╰┈➤ dubcon/noncon, murder, character death(?), groping, trueform!sukuna, double penetration, plushie humping, mental illness, face riding, aphrodisiac, brief cum eating, slight voyeurism, degradation, praise, missionary, 7k+ words, yuuji is aged up to 20+years, slight yuuji x reader, hair yanking, is this cheating?, rough sex, unprotected sex

If you could travel back in time, to that fateful night when your fingers first brushed against its soft, cursed fabric, would you change a thing?

It was October 5th. The sky had bruised into twilight, and the air was thick with the mingling scents of roasted chestnuts, damp earth, and the faint trace of winter creeping in. Yuuji, your boyfriend of six years, had been excited about the fall fair, dragging you there with promises of funnel cakes and dizzying rides. His enthusiasm had been infectious, and despite the chill creeping into your bones, you’d followed him willingly, smiling even as the cold bite of evening settled into your skin.

You had just stumbled out of The Gravitron, disoriented from the spinning madness, your body instinctively finding its way into his as you tried to steady yourself. His arm slid around your waist, a familiar warmth, but somehow, your eyes managed to focus on one singular object.

It was a plushie, nestled amongst a sea of cheap carnival prizes. It was a humorous parody of Sukuna Ryomen, The King of Curses, reduced in the form of a rounded plushie. It was small and unassuming, its plump shape clothed by his robes. His beady red eyes gleamed under the booth lights.

The legend of Sukuna Ryomen was no light-hearted tale. He was a god of destruction, a bringer of chaos, feared and revered. Some said he could twist reality itself and turn the world inside out with a flick of his finger. But here he was, reduced to a toy, the weight of his name no more than the weight of stuffing inside its fat body.

It shouldn’t have been so easy to win it. But it was. Yuuji, smiling like a fool, had thrown the basketball without a care in the world. The booth attendant handed it over, his frown contrasting Yuuji's grin, beaming as he turned to press the plushie into your hands.

The second your fingers closed around it, the world shifted. The fair’s noise faded, the laughter of children, the creak of rides, the announcer’s barks, all muted as if the world tilted and you were thrown into another realm.

A chill crept down your spine, despite the comforting warmth of Yuuji beside you. His presence felt distant, as though the cold night air had placed a barrier between you. It wrapped around you, thick and suffocating, but no one else seemed to notice.

Yuuji glanced over, noticing your faltering smile and the goosebumps rising on your bare arms. You were wearing a sleeveless black dress, and the night had begun to cool. Without a word, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, its weight grounding you as if you were beginning to float.

"Come on, you need to eat something. It'll warm you up," he said, gently steering you toward the concession stand, the warm scent of fried food greeting you.

The smell of powdered sugar and warm dough made your stomach growl, and within a few minutes later, you both sat at a small, secluded table. You had forgotten you had pocketed the Sukuna plushie into your back pocket as you sunk into the worn bench. It gave a small dying breath.

Yuuji sat beside you, his smile softened. "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah," you murmured, snuggling into him. "Tonight was amazing."

He chuckled, draping an arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer, his body radiating warmth. "I’m glad," he said, resting his chin on the top of your head. "You’ve got quiet back there. Are you okay? Still cold?"

"Just a little," you admitted, tucking yourself tighter against him, your right ear against his throat, feeling the low rumble of his voice, warm from talking and the corndogs he’d eaten.

His thumb traced gentle circles on your arm. "Are you sure?" he asked softly. Then, cautiously, "is it... your mom?"

You hesitated, a brief flash of the sad woman crossing your mind, but you pushed it away. "No, it’s not that. I’m just tired." You forced a smile.

Yuji’s arm tightened slightly around you, his thumb pausing for a moment before resuming its soothing motion. He didn’t press further, his quiet concern clear in the way he held you. "Alright," he whispered, so softly you would have missed it if your ear wasn’t pressed to his throat. His chin came to rest against your head once more, and you both sat in comfortable silence, the world fading away around you.

A few minutes passed with you both looking at the distance before you both got up, preparing to return to the night. You felt self conscious as you might’ve ruined the end of the night with your own set of problems, but as you moved, a sharp pinch made you jump. It came from where the plushie you'd stashed in your back pocket. You laughed, swatting Yuji playfully.

"Yuji!" you accused, smacking him on the arm.

He recoiled, rubbing his arm. He was wide-eyed and bewildered, almost clueless as to why you had just hit him. "What? What did I do?" he pouted, rubbing his arm.

You rolled your eyes, realizing he may have been trying to lighten the mood. Appreciatively, you nestled closer to him as you both walked to the parking lot.

If you had looked closely, you might have noticed his hand still resting innocently at your waist, the other deep in his sweats, never having moved from its place since you stood.

October 6th

The next day, a low-grade fever crept over you. It wasn’t much, but it was still a fever.

You laid snuggled under the covers, an empty box of tissues on your nightstand and your Sukuna plush peeking out from behind its pile of crumpled tissues that marked your misery.

Minutes later, Yuuji entered the room, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. He’d already changed into his workout clothes, a gray tank top and black basketball shorts. His eyes quickly found you, curled up in bed, shivering slightly. He walked over and placed a hand on your forehead, wincing at the warmth. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“I don’t want to get in your way,” you replied, managing a weak smile. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got…” You groped around until your hand slipped beneath Yuuji’s butt to retrieve the badly treated plushie. “I've got Sukuna, King of Curses, to protect me.”

He sighed but smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Alright. Rest up. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “Love you.”

He paused, smiled over his shoulder, halfway out the door. “Love you, too, babe.”

And then he was gone.

The house fell silent except for the low murmur of the TV and the fading echo of Yuuji’s footsteps, followed by the creaking door. You were alone now, left to your thoughts.

You held the Sukuna plush above your face, playing absentmindedly with its four plump arms. It was strange. Sukuna was known to be the most evil man who lived, but he reminded you of Yuuji in a way. Well, in terms of looks, anyway.

You were drawed out of your thoughts when you heard a soft shuffling of slippers dragging across the wooden floor with a faint, sticky sound. Your mother entered, frail and unsteady, her eyes clouded, holding a bowl of steaming soup. “I made you something for your cold.”

You set the doll aside. “Mom, you really shouldn’t be cooking,” you said, gently taking the bowl from her trembling, bony hands and placing it on the nightstand.

Her brow furrowed, eyes darting nervously around the room. "Yuji said the same thing before he left, like I can’t take care of my own daughter. I’m your mother." Her voice cracked, then softened, taking on a childlike lilt. "I’m supposed to take care of you."

You opened your mouth, searching for comforting words, but before you could speak, her tone shifted, sharp and sudden. "I know you lived with my mom during your teenage years, but she’s not your mother. She’s not. I gave birth to you– I sat on that bed for twelve, fifteen hours. Not her! Me," Her voice crescendoed, then fell to a whisper, trembling. "Not her..."

You held your breath, knowing it was best to let her rant. Your mother, the saddest woman you knew, had given birth to you young, been through two divorces, and by the second, she was lost to drugs. When you were twelve, she overdosed, slipping into a coma, and you moved in with your grandmother. She never fully recovered, neither physically nor mentally. Her eyes were murky, as if her life was constantly flashing before her eyes, reminding her of what a shit parent she'd been to her only child. It left her desperate to be part of your life, and you let her move in when you were twenty.

“I know, mom. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry,” she grumbled, her voice thick with irritation. She moved to sit on your bed but stopped when she felt something soft beneath her. Lifting herself, she frowned and picked up the Sukuna plush she had nearly squashed. Her expression softened. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Yuuji won it for me at the fair yesterday.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “I remember how much you loved your dolls and plushies. You had them all around your bed. And that, that um, that one doll Botan bought you for your tenth birthday, the one you were obsessed with…”

“The black cat with the big eyes?” you said, the memory surfacing. Botan, her second husband, was a kind man, the kindest you’d known. He bought you the plush cat for your twelfth birthday because you always wanted a real one, but he was allergic. Your mother had thrown it away after they divorced, convinced he was cheating. She’d promised to buy you a real cat. A month later, she slipped into her coma.

“Yes, yes, the big eyed one,” she said, a glint of fondness in her eyes. “It scared me half to death one night when you left it in the kitchen. I came down for water, and all I saw were those two big eyes staring at me in the dark,” she chuckled. “But this one looks like Yuuji, how cute.”

Her smile softened, and she carefully placed the plush by your pillow before standing up. She reached out and ruffled your hair gently. “Alright, I’ll let you rest. Make sure you eat your soup. It was a lot of trouble making it.”

With a soft sigh, she turned and shuffled out of the room.

You glanced at the bowl on the nightstand. The soup was watery, mostly filled with large, uneven chunks of carrot, the chicken and noodles sparse. Still, you ate it, knowing it wasn’t the taste that mattered, it was the effort.

Finally, officially alone, your mind drifted again. Yuuji.

You had met in freshman year, bonding over shared pain. He had just lost his grandfather, and while your mom had left the coma by then, the damage she inflicted on you had already finished crumbling.

You had been together for so long, but the foundation of your relationship had always been built on trauma. Yuuji had begun to grow past his grief. Instead, it motivated him to live fully and seek, in his words, a “proper death.”

You, on the other hand, still lived in the past and grew nervous each day that he may leave you in his, in his new pursuit.

Though, Yuuji wasn’t the type to string anyone along. He wasn’t that kind of person. You were his first everything, and he was yours. He knew you were still suffering, and he grew an obligation to help your mother. Because of that, he stayed.

You felt embarrassed, and at the moment, you resentee your mother for making him feel that way; tapped.

You coasted back to the present, turning over and idly playing with Sukuna’s arms. He really did look like Yuuji. Was that the reason he picked it out for you?

You shook your head, rolling over on your side, tucking the Sukuna plushie in between your breasts as you drifted to sleep.

October 10th

Fuck, why did it look so much like Yuuji?

You positioned yourself on top of your plushie. Although soft, most of its design was embroidered onto the fabric skin, like the plushie's eyes, hard to the touch.

You both haven't fucked in ages, with Yuuji being busy as a college athlete.

You felt the plushie's softness envelop your lower half as you began to grind against it. The fabric was surprisingly responsive, almost as if it were alive beneath you. Your hips moved in a slow, sensual rhythm, building friction between your clothed sex and the plushie's plush exterior.

The plushie's soft, yielding surface seemed to mold perfectly to your body as you straddled it, its plush exterior conforming to every curve. You ground your hips against the toy faster, panting with need as delicious friction built between your clothed sex and the plushie's inviting surface.

Your nipples hardened into stiff peaks, poking against the fabric of your top. Unable to resist, you reached inside your shirt and grasped them, squeezing the sensitive buds between your thumb and forefinger. "Ohhh… mmm… yes..." you whimpered quietly, mindful that your mom was asleep just next door.

The plushie's embroidered eyes provided a delightful contrast in texture, their slightly harder surface perfect for grinding your clit against.

Lost in the sensations, you tugged impatiently at your clothes, desperate for more direct contact. Finally managing to throw your shirt aside, your fingers kneaded the supple flesh of your breasts, rolling and pinching your nipples until they ached deliciously. Unable to resist, you ducked your head down and captured one rosy peak between your lips, suckling greedily. The wet heat of your mouth sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body, drawing a needy whimper from your throat.

Rocking your hips faster, you chased the building pressure between your thighs. The plushie's surface rubbed deliciously against your clothed sex, the fabric of your panties growing damp with each passing second.

You circled your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing yourself with feather-light touches before increasing the pressure. Each stroke sent jolts of electricity coursing through your veins, stoking the fire building low in your belly. Desperate for more, you slipped your hand into your panties, fingers gliding through the slick folds of your pussy.

You plunged two fingers deep inside your aching core, pumping them in and out in time with the sway of your hips. Crude squelching noises filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans and the rustling of the plushie's stuffing. You inner walls fluttered around your fingers, aching to be filled.

You bit your lip, muffling a scream as ecstasy crashed over you. Your pussy spasmed and clenched as you gushed, soaking through your panties and dripping onto the plushie below. The soft, plush fabric absorbed your juices, the toy growing warm and damp beneath you.

You let out a shaky moan, looking down at your mess. A minute passes by before you reluctantly get up on shaky legs, your body still trembling from the force of your orgasm.

You pad naked to the bathroom, where in the shower, you languidly soap up your curves, replaying the intense moment in your mind. After thoroughly cleaning yourself, you step out and dry off, feeling refreshed and satisfied.

You wrapped the plushie in a towel to contain the mess and carried it to the laundry room, tossing it in the washing machine along with some detergent, setting it to run a hot cycle.

October 18th, 9:20pm

You stepped into the dim kitchen, your thoughts fixated on grabbing a snack. Across the room, your mother lay motionless on the couch, the low hum of the TV casting flickering shadows as she slept. The silence settled, and you reached for the cabinet handle, but the moment you opened it, something tumbled out with a sharp thud against the sink.

Startled, you jerked back, your heart racing as you peered down, half-expecting a rat to scurry from the shadows.

But in the sink, drenched in the pooling water, was your Sukuna plush, its pink hair dark and matted.

October 24th

At last, Yuuji was beside you in bed, the soft sheets barely a barrier between your bodies. You lay facing each other on your sides, close enough to feel his breath on your skin. Your lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. Until he broke it.

"Mmm," Yuuji groaned, his body trembling with need. "I hate how it's staring at us."

You glanced over your shoulder, following his gaze. The Sukuna plush sat on the nightstand, its large red eyes fixed on the two of you. Turning back to Yuuji, a sly smile tugged at your lips. “Performance anxiety?” You purred, your voice low and sultry.

Before he could rebuke, your thumb caressed the side of his face, fingertips trailing down his jawline as you pulled him in for another searing kiss. Yuuji melted into your touch, his lips parting to allow your tongue to slide against his. He tasted faintly of sake from earlier.

Yuuji's hands roamed your curves, squeezing your hips as he deepened the kiss. His hardness pressed against your thigh, evidence of his desire. But then he opened his lidded eyes and caught sight of the Sukuna plush watching you both. Frowning, he broke away, drawing a frustrated groan from you.

"Really, Yuuji?" you whined, trying to pull him back.

"I don't know, something doesn't feel right about that guy," Yuuji muttered, reaching over to flip the Sukuna plush face-down on the nightstand. He paused before flinging it softly across the room all together.

Satisfied, Yuuji turned back to you, his eyes dark with lust. He tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging you into another passionate kiss. Your bodies molded together as the kiss grew more heated, hands exploring and caressing. He grabbed the sheets before raising them over your heads.

Halloween Night

You sat on the edge of your bed, slowly rolling the red stockings up your thighs. The fabric hugged your skin snugly as you adjusted them, pausing to glance at yourself in the mirror. Halloween has finally come. The costume party you'd been excited about for weeks was just hours away, and you’d decided to dress up as Little Red Riding Hood. Her dress was secured around you with needles, as you did last minute shopping and they were out of your size. You hid the pins with the cheap red cloak that draped over your shoulders, falling just past your waist.

You were paired with the lace-trimmed stockings you’d found online. The outfit was cute but with a hint of edge, just the way you liked it.

Nobara and Megumi were supposed to pick you up soon, and the three of you planned to make an entrance. Megumi was the wolf and Nobara was the grandma. Yuuji, on the other hand, had opted to stay home. He had a big game tomorrow and needed to focus, so he’d promised to hold down the fort and handle the trick-or-treaters, along with your mom if she wasn’t already resting in her bedroom. You had teased him earlier about his dedication, but he just grinned, saying he didn’t mind.

As you turned back to the bed, you frowned, realizing that one of your stockings was missing. Your eyes scanned the messy bedspread, then drifted to the floor. Maybe it had fallen off when you were getting dressed. You leaned over to check under the bed, and sure enough, there it was, and there it was, wrapped around your Sukuna plush like some kind of weird little hostage.

You frowned, reaching down to grab the sock when, out of nowhere, you felt a sharp smack on your backside.

"Yuji!" You yelped, startled, before whirling around to see him standing there, toothbrush in his mouth, a playful smirk on his face.

“Be safe, okay?” he mumbled through the foam, tapping the toothbrush against his lip. “And make sure you don’t split up with Megumi.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing the Sukuna plush back onto the bed with a sigh. You couldn’t help but smile at that, shaking your head. Megumi was like the reluctant guardian of your little trio, always making sure you didn’t get into too much trouble. “Alright,” you said, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. 6:09 p.m. You still had a little time before they arrived.

“I’ll be back by eight,” you promised, pulling on your red boots and smoothing out your dress. “Don’t wait too long.”

Yuuji stepped forward, toothbrush now forgotten, wiped the foam from his face with the back of his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, as he always did before you or he left. “Alright, just be careful,” he murmured, his voice a little softer than before.

You smiled, feeling a little flustered under his affectionate gaze. You headed toward the door, your hand resting on the knob, when his voice called out to you again, making you pause.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he added, grinning like a dork. “I love you.”

You turned slightly, looking over your shoulder with a teasing smirk. “I know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, enjoying the playful banter between you two.

Yuuji pouted, crossing his arms. “Say it back! What if I die tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Die? From what? The neighborhood kids in bed sheets pretending to be ghosts?”

He gave you an exaggerated look of concern. “I might not have the candy they wanted! They could turn violent, y’know.”

Shaking your head, you walked back over to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek, tasting the minty toothpaste. “Love you, Yuuji. And if you’re still up when I get home, maybe I’ll give you something sweeter than candy.”

8:25 p.m

You entered the door with thunder. You’d been carrying lots of food left over from the party. Knowing the college students like you both were, food was a valuable object. You could feel your stomach twist if you had to go one more day with instant noodles.

What bothers you more is that your boyfriend hasn'rvcome down the stairs to help you put the food away after you slammed the door, a sign of frustration.

“Yuuji!” You screamed, hearing your voice echo off the walls. Nobody answers back. You didn't bother with your mom. Usually around this time, she took her pills and was out for the rest of the night.

What bothers you more is the bowl of candy, untouched, still overflowing with vibrant wrappers, sat on the table, mocking the silence that filled the house.

You cursed under your breath, assuming he’d gone to bed early again. Irritation bubbled inside your throat, but as you ascended the stairs, ready to scold him, the bubbles in your throat exploded, replaced by a scream that tore through the quiet.

There, sprawled across the floor, was your highschool sweetheart, his lifeless body drenched in blood. The crimson pooled around him, staining the hardwood. But it wasn’t the blood that froze your heart.

It was the figure standing over him.

The hulking presence loomed over you, its naked form towering and imposing. Pink hair spiked wildly, framing a face that was both beautiful and grotesque. One side twisted and deformed, while the other was almost handsome. There was something else in his hair, a sort of white foam that looked like stuffing.

But it was those piercing blue eyes that truly captured your attention – cold, calculating, and filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

Four inhuman arms emerged from its shadowy frame, each marked with jagged black patterns that pulsed with dark energy.

And two massive twin shafts stood at semi-attention, donning the same black markings on his arms. The weighty orbs of his testicles swung heavily between his muscular thighs, swollen and churning with virile seed, ready to unleash their pent-up load.

You could feel its gaze boring into you, as if it was sizing you up like a predator stalking its prey. A distant, hazy recognition sparked in your mind – you had seen this creature before, in the darkest corners of your memory. And now, it was here, in the flesh.

He began to walk towards you but his feet snagged onto your boyfriend's body.

Sukuna stared down at the unmoving carcass indifferently, as if it was a mere log in the way of him reaching you. He simply pushed the body to the side with his foot, thighs carved as if made of marvel, and made his way towards you.

"No... No," You whimpered as he closed the distance between you.

As you stumbled back as it advanced, closing the gap between you with slow, powerful strides.

Your feet became tangled, an unavoidable result of the intense fear coursing through your veins. The room seemed to tilt and spin around you, and before you could react, you found yourself falling backwards.

Sukuna was quick to respond, his reflexes lightning fast compared to your panicked mind. One of his powerful arms shot out, grabbing at your flimsy dress held together by pins. The delicate fabric ripped easily as you fell, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before the imposing figure of Sukuna.

His eyes devoured every inch of your body, taking in the sight of your lacy lingerie barely concealing your most intimate parts. The flimsy bra did little to contain your heaving breasts, your nipples clearly visible through the sheer lace. And your panties... They clung to the curves of your ass and the swell of your pussy, leaving very little to the imagination.

"Leave me alone!" You cried out, crawling on all fours. He grinned and reached down, gripping on your hair firmly, almost painfully so, as he yanked you closer to his throbbing cock.

The thick, musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils, making your head spin with a dizzying mix of terror. His other hand pressed the leaking tip of his cock against your trembling lips, smearing them with his salty precum.

"No...--" you whimpered before he forced his massive girth past your lips. Sukuna's cock stretched your mouth obscenely, the bulbous head pushing against the back of your throat. The bitter taste of his precum coated your tongue as he slid deeper, making you gag and splutter around his thick shaft.

The intoxicating taste of his precum flooded your senses, igniting an uncontrollable ache between your legs. With each passing second, your body betrayed you further, your pussy growing slicker as you found yourself eagerly sucking him of your own accord.

He watched you intently, a wicked grin spreading across his face as you lavished attention on the tip of his cock, lapping at it like a woman dying of thirst. A guttural groan escaped him as he wiped away the saliva that dribbled down your chin. Throwing his head back, he surrendered to the sensations, one hand tangling in his hair while the other gripped your head tightly. For the first time, he spoke. "That's it. Quit acting so shy."

His fingers dug into your scalp as he began to thrust forcefully, driving his cock deeper into your throat with each harsh movement. There was no mercy in his actions, only a primal desire to claim and dominate. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe around his thick girth, but still, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

His grip on your hair tightened, holding you in place as he pistoned in and out of your throat. The wet, vulgar sounds of your sucking filled the room, mingling with his grunts of pleasure. He was close now, you could tell by the way his thrusts became more erratic, more desperate.

He halted inside you, his heavy balls slapping against your chin. Your nose was buried in his pubic hair, the musky scent filling your lungs. Sukuna held you there, letting you struggle and sputter around his cock before cumming down your throat. You had no choice but to swallow every last drop, your body shuddering as the aphrodisiac effects of his seed sent waves of unwanted pleasure crashing through you.

"Swallow."

After what seemed an eternity, he finally withdrew, allowing you to gulp precious air. Thin strands of saliva and pearly seed bridged your bruised, swollen lips to his glistening, throbbing shaft. He rested the weighty length across your flushed cheek, still pulsing and oozing aphrodisiac essence from the engorged head. It trailed down the thick veins of his cock, painting your face with his musky fluids.

You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, panting softly, a wild, desperate look in their depths. Something primal and hungry sparked within you. It finally came to you that this man, this... thing, was the king of all curses.

Sukuna's voice was a deep, velvety purr that seemed to caress every inch of your skin. "Just look at you, so utterly wrecked, so desperate for more of my cock, just from having it in your mouth." His fingers traced along your jawline with a feather-light touch, a mockery of tenderness.

"I wonder how utterly destroyed you'll look when my thick shaft is buried to the hilt inside your tight little cunt." His words dripped with a dark promise as his hands roamed possessively over your your.

Sukuna's iron grip on your hair sent searing pain through your scalp as he yanked you down the hallway, your screams echoing off the walls. As you entered you and Yuuji's shared bedroom, you passed Yuuji's crumpled form, catching a glimpse of his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. A flicker of hope ignited within you - perhaps there was still a chance to be spared from being ravaged by this beast.

But Sukuna remained utterly unmoved by Yuuji's condition. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sent you tumbling onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly on the rumpled sheets. You immediately scrambled backwards, putting as much distance between yourself and the demon as possible.

Your efforts were futile. In a blur of motion, Sukuna lunged forward and seized your ankle in an iron grip. You thrashed and kicked, but he easily captured your other leg and effortlessly wrenched your legs apart, positioning himself between your thighs.

Sukuna's hands roamed possessively over your soft curves, his touch both tender and rough. "So soft, so delicate. Like ripe fruit, just waiting to be devoured," he purred, fingers digging into the pliant flesh of her thighs. "I remember when you used to play with me, moving my limbs however you wanted. Did it excite you, having that control?"

You shivered. His words transported you back to the weeks before, when you would idly move the stuffed limbs of your Sukuna plush. How was he alive? Big?

Newer flashes of memory surfaces, ones of where you carelessly tossed him, or accidentally sat on him. Yuuji performed all of those actions, and now he laid unmoving on the floor. What if Sukuna sought revenge for those thoughtless acts?

Sukuna's hands roamed hungrily over your curves, tracing the flare of your hips, the taper of your waist, before roughly palming the heavy weight of your breast, pushing them together. With a sharp tug, he rent your bra asunder, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper. Your breast spilled free, soft and yielding as they followed the curve of your sides, like melting butter on a hot pan.

Sukuna's fingers sank into the pliant flesh, kneading and squeezing with bruising force. He enveloped your entire breast in the hot, greedy clasp of his palm, thumb flicking mercilessly over the pebbled peak. You grunted as his roughness.

Suddenly, a wet heat engulfed your nipple. You gasped, realizing a mouth had formed on Sukuna's hand. The tongue swirled and lashed the sensitive bud, suckling hard and drawing the tender flesh deeper. Jolts of painful pleasure shot straight to your core as it's teeth grazed the delicate skin, nipping sharply before his tongue soothed the sting.

Sukuna's other set of arms slid between your thighs, a finger brushing against your clothed sex. He could feel the scorching heat emanating from your core, the dampness seeping through the thin fabric. A wicked grin spread across his face as he realized just how affected you were by his touch.

"Mmm, already so wet and ready for me," Sukuna purred, his voice a deep rumble.

In one swift motion, one hand clasped together your ankles in one palm, spreading your legs wider. The other clamped down on your panties, bunching the fabric in his fist.

With a sharp yank, Sukuna tore your panties clean off, baring your glistening sex to his hungry gaze. His eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of your slick folds, already flushed and swollen with arousal.

Sukuna's tongue slid out, licking his lips as if he could already savor your sweet nectar. In one fluid motion, he laid on the bed, positioning you above his face. Your dripping sex hovered inches from his mouth, the intoxicating aroma of your pussy filling his nostrils.

He gripped your hips firmly, holding you open and exposed for his hungry gaze. You could feel the scorching heat of his breath caressing your sensitive flesh. Sukuna's fingers dug possessively into the meat of your thighs, keeping you spread wide.

"I'm going to feast on this pussy," he growled, his lips grazing your inner thigh. "Ever since you came on my face, I haven't been able to stop thinking about tasting your essence. Sweet, compared to how slutty you were."

You have barely any time to remember before he yanked your hips closer, burying his face between your legs. He dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring the first taste of your arousal. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he moaned against your flesh.

"Fuck, you're so sweet," Sukuna rasped, his voice rough with desire. "So fucking sweet."

He dove back in, sealing his lips around your clit. At the same time, he thrust his tongue deep inside your tight channel, fucking you with the slick muscle.

"Ah!" You cried out, your thighs clamping around Sukuna's head as you tried to squirm away from the intense pleasure. Sukuna growled, the vibrations making you see stars.

His strong hands gripped your doughy hips, holding your frame firmly in place. With a sharp smack, he struck your pert ass, the crack echoing through the room. A vivid red handprint bloomed across your rear. "Interrupt me again while I am feasting and I will have you writhing and screaming on my tongue for hours on end."

"'M sorry... 'M sorry!" You whimpered, though your mind felt foggy, thoughts scattering like startled birds.

His tongue continued to swirl and tease, leaving hot, wet strokes over your quivering flesh. He zeroed in on your throbbing clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue before his lips secured around it again. He suckled hard and fast, sending jolts of electric pleasure racing through your core. He alternated between flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit and taking it between his lips.

"Mmmph! Oh, oh god!" You moaned, your back arching as you rode his face. Your hands fisted in his hair, pushing him closer. "Please don't stop... Please don't stop!"

Sukuna showed no signs of slowing down, his tongue plunging deep into your soaked folds, stroking along your velvety walls. He plunged two thick, calloused fingers knuckle-deep into your tight, slick heat. Your velvety walls clenched greedily around the intrusion.

Curling his fingers just so, Sukuna rubbed insistently against that spongy patch of nerves, stroking and massaging until your hips were shaking against his face. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth as he feasted on your weeping sex.

You babbled incoherently, hands fisting in his dark hair. Your thighs clamped around his head, trapping him against your spasming core. "Ah... Ah!"

With a final, well-aimed thrust, he sent you flying over the edge into pure bliss.

Your back arched off the face as a silent scream tore from your throat. Your pussy clenched around his fingers like a vice, gushing your sweet nectar onto his tongue and chin as he eagerly lapped it up. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you boneless and panting. Slowly, he pulled his sticky fingers coated in your essence and brought it to his softened lips.

As he licked his fingers, he gazed at you with renewed hunger, as if the taste of you had an aphrodisiac effect too. He knew you were completely at his mercy now.

In one swift motion, he pounced, his powerful body pressing you down into the mattress. With a firm grip on your ankles, he hoisted your legs up and back until they were folded nearly in half, your knees nearly touching your shoulders. The lewd position left you completely exposed and vulnerable to his desires.

"There, now you're open and ready for me," he growled, the bulbous head of his thick, veiny cock prodding insistently at your tight little entrance. You let out a sharp gasp as he began to push inside, your slick walls stretching obscenely around his girthy intrusion. It felt like you were being split in half as he slowly sank deeper, igniting a raging wildfire in your core.

"Ah! S-Slow down! It's too much!" you cried out, your fingers digging into his muscular chest to push him away. Your body betrayed you, inner muscles fluttering and clenching needily around the hard shaft impaling you.

He paused.

Then a ungodly grin spread across his face. With a flex of his powerful hips, he withdrew almost all the way until just the tip remained inside your quivering heat. You felt something else prod your entrance and your heart dropped.

With a brutal thrust, he slammed back into the hilt, heavy balls slapping lewdly against your upturned ass. He had managed to stuff his second cock into your tight hole.

Your back arched off the bed, a silent scream tearing from your throat as he stretched you to your absolute limit. Electric pleasure crackled through your nerves with each deep, punishing stroke as he set a ruthless pace, pounding into your sopping cunt with animalistic abandon. Obscene squelching noises filled the room, mingling with the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh and your wanton cries.

"Let this be a lesson to you, girl," he groaned, relishing the way your velvety walls gripped him like a vice. His hand gripped your cheeks, puffing out your lips. "Tell me what to do with my cock, and I'll return it twice-fold."

He could feel every inch of your tight heat clenching around his throbbing shafts as he pounded into you mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling filled the room, driving him wild with lust. He wanted to ruin you, to claim every part of you and make you forget about any other man.

He grinned at the thought. "Your boyfriend would lose his fucking mind if he saw you like this," he growled, voice rough with lust. "Stuffed full with two cocks, moaning like a bitch in heat, surrendering to me so easily. Are you ashamed?"

He reached down to roughly grope your bouncing tits, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He pinched and tugged at your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. The synchronized sensations of his hands on your breasts and his cock pounding into your dripping cunt were driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

"No," he chuckled. "No. I don't even think you have a single thought in that pretty little head besides how good it feels to be used like a cheap whore."

His lewd words only stoked the flames of your desire higher, your inner walls gripping his plunging shaft even tighter. You could feel the pressure mounting deep within you, winding itself into an knot.

"Take it," he growled. "Take, every, last, inch!" His hips slammed into yours with every pronounced word of his command. "Gonna pump this pussy full. Flood your womb with my seed."

Abruptly, he altered the angle, the bulbous head of his manhood grinding against your G-spot with every powerful thrust. That extra stimulation was the final push you needed to tumble over the edge. A guttural moan tore from your throat as your climax hit you like a freight train, your body quaking and spasming as rapture overwhelmed your senses in relentless waves.

His cocks pulsed and throbbed inside you as he neared his own peak, stretching you deliciously with each twitch. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against yours. You felt the first hot spurt of his release paint your inner walls, followed by another and another, until you were both gasping and trembling from the intensity of it all.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pinning you to the bed as you both struggled to catch your breath. For a long moment, there was only the sound of your mingled panting filling the room. After a long, blissful moment, he rolled off you, his semi-erect cocks slipping out with a lewd squelch. Immediately, his thick seed began oozing from your well-fucked pussy, trickling down to your quivering asshole.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled to the back of your as exhaustion overtook you. Sukuna gazed down at your ravaged body, admiring the finger-shaped bruises and glistening sheen of perspiration coating your skin.

He leaned down, licking a long stripe up your pussy, savoring the mingled taste of your juices.

His eyes suddenly flicked to the shadowy corner. "Uraume, you little pervert," he grinned.

Uraume stepped out from the shadows, a wicked grin on their face. "I couldn't resist coming to welcome you back to the world, my lord Sukuna." Their eyes roamed over your cum-splattered body, and followed the trail of stuffing on the floor.

"I was wondering when you would come back from that humiliating curse."

Sukuna sat up, not bothering to cover his nudity. "This girl happens to be a descendant of one of my brides. I take great pride in my women."

"Yes, I can see," she said, eyeing Yuuji's body. "She served you well, my lord.”