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dadsbongos · 1 year ago

Text

then, and again, and once more

6.9k words

Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.

Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up

sukuna-centric part 2

There it is again.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.

Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.

And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.

He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”

That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”

“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”

Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”

“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”

“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”

Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”

“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”

Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.

Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?

“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.

But in a lot more ways -

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.

“You like that one, right? I can help.”

You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.

It isn’t even affection. It’s just…

“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”

Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.

With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”

Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”

Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”

Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”

And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”

Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?

“Do you want my help or not, worm?”

Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.

“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.

Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.

The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.

And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.

“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “

“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”

Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”

He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”

“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”

Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”

You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”

Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”

“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”

Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”

“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”

Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.

Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.

Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.

And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.

Oh well.

It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.

His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”

Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”

“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”

“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.

Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.

But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”

“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”

“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”

A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.

We used to be more.

You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.

Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.

Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.

Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.

“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.

Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.

Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.

And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”

“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”

You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”

He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”

Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”

“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”

“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.

Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.

You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.

Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.

Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.

People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.

As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.

He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”

Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.

That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.

That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.

Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.

And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”

It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.

But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”

But he’d never lie, you know that.

So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”

It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.

Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”

Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”

“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”

“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”

“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”

He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.

He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.

That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.

Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.

You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.

Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.

And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.

Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.

But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.

It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.

In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.

Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.

And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.

But it was time now.

With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.

It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.

Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.

And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.

“Itadori, right?”

Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.

On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.

Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.

But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”

Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?

You wouldn’t remember any of it.

Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.

He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”

That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.

“She’s still awake.”

Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”

Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”

“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.

The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.

Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.

Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.

“Itadori?”

Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?

But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.

With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.

The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”

Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.

“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”

Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”

But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”

His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.

That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.

Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.

Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.

Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.

Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”

Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”

Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.

His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.

Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”

You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”

But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.

On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.

Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.

“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”

Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.

Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.

He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.

And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-

“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”

Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.

He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.

“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.

Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.

“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”

“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”

You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”

Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.

“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.

He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”

This wasn’t new?

Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.

His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.

Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.

Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.

Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.

You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.

“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”

Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.

Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.

“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”

“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”

And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.

It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.

You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.

Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”

And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”

And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.

“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”

“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.

And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.

“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”

The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.

When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”

Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.

Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji fluff #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori smut #yuji itadori fluff #and sukuna too i guess

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novvabee · 3 months ago

Text

And They Were Roommates pt. 8

Summary: You are sick and Remus takes care of you

cw: throwing up, sickness

You were the most sick you think you had ever been in your life. You woke up nauseous, threw up a couple times, went back to bed, woke up more nauseous, threw up some more, then crawled (literally) back into bed. You were shaking all over, all you wanted to do was sleep. You debated going and getting some medicine, but you couldn’t move without feeling sick.

You had stayed in bed all day, it was almost 3 when you heard a knock on your door. Awake, but unable to speak, afraid that it would make you more nauseous. You heard the door open and someone slowly make their way in.

“Y/N, are you alright?” you heard Remus ask quietly, as if trying not to wake you.

You could only reply with a weak groan.

Remus came closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, a comforting hand on your back. “Are you alright love? You've been in bed all day.”

You cracked your eyes open just a little and turned to face him. You couldn’t help the shaking that started. Remus put his hand to your forehead and down your cheek.

“You're burning up. Have you felt like this all morning?” He asked. You nodded, managing to let out a slight sound of agreement. He tucked the blanket up higher on you and stood off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, door still open and you could hear the three boys speaking incoherently downstairs. It could have been moments or hours until you heard footsteps coming up the stairs again. It was Remus, Sirius and James in tow. Remus was holding a mug of steaming liquid, James a heating pad and fuzzy blanket, and Sirius some jar of red liquid which you just assumed was some medicine.

“You alright?” James asked, setting the heating pad at the foot of your bed and spreading the blanket on top of you. You wish they would stop asking that. Not only could you not answer, but you were also very clearly not. You shook your head. “We brought you a couple things.”

Remus and Sirius were speaking quietly to each other, pouring the red liquid into the mug. “What is that?” you asked. You hated the taste of some medicines, this one might make you vomit again.

Remus smiled sweetly at you, easing some of your nerves. “It’s ok love, it's just some medicine.” He says.

That doesn't make you feel any better. “But what kind, I-I can’t- what if I-”

“Shh,” Remus interrupts, “I promise you’ll feel better. It tastes like ginger and vanilla, it’ll settle your stomach, yeah?” he brushes the damp hair from your forehead. You made another sound of agreement. He helped you sit up slightly, and handed you the mug. It smelled like vanilla, but not in an overly sweet, nauseating way. Your hands shook as you brought it to your lips, Remus making sure you didn’t spill any.

The warm liquid seemed to seep through your whole body, easing your aching muscles and settling your stomach. You relaxed more into your pillows and Remus took the mug back. “Keep taking little sips of this. It’ll help.” he said sitting back on your bed.

You shook your head still too weak for so many words. Remus just tilted his head and asked “What’s wrong love?”

You mustered up enough energy to say, “I don't wanna get any of you sick.”

James and Sirius smiled at Remus and left the room, Remus still planted firm right next to you. “Remmy, I mean it.” you tried to fight.

He pulled the blanket up around you, making sure you were covered and comfortable. “I know you feel like shit, and trust me, I have a lot of experience in that area. I won’t get sick.”

You were in no shape to put up any sort of a fight, but you want to. He hands you the mug for you to take another sip and asks, “You wanna watch something? Sometimes it’s good to distract your brain.” He pulled your computer closer and opened it.

“Remmy…” you said so quietly. Still shaking.

“Hm.”

“I-I’m cold.” You said, shaking. He pulled you closer, your head now on his chest. He brushed his hand along your hair, almost in a petting motion. It felt good. You let out a little sound, something like a pur.

“Hm?” Remus asked.

“Feels good.” you said without thinking, the sickness and medication putting you in a delirious state. “Please keep doing it.”

Remus chuckled but said, “Well when you ask so nicely, of course.” he ran his long fingers through your hair again, playing with the ends when he reached them. You vowed that if you got him sick, if he came down with the same thing, you would return the favor.

You noticed the string around Remus’s other hand, the bracelet you had made for him. You smiled slightly and played with the little charm. Remus let you. In your foggy state of mind, you let your fingers wander to the scar that sat just beneath the bracelet. You traced the line, then another one along his forearm.

You always wondered what happened, how he had gotten them, but you never wanted to ask, you didn’t know if he would be comfortable talking about it. You didn't want to bring it up and make him uncomfortable or embarrassed. But now in your state, your filter must have slipped.

“Remmy?” you asked up at him. He just looked down at you, knowing what you were going to ask. You blushed, realizing that it probably wasn’t the time or place to bring up this topic. “Uh n-nevermind.”

He lazily smiled at you. “It’s ok love,” he said looking at his arms, just like you were, “I can’t really talk about them but, I can tell you that they don't hurt. You don’t need to worry.” He said softly to you. “I think they add character, make me look… dangerous.”

You turned to face him wholly, fighting the nausea and looked in his bright eyes. “I think they make you look beautiful Remus. They’re striking and different.” you weren't lying, not even in your brain fog, you really did think that he was beautiful, scars and all.

He brushed a hair behind your ear. “You feeling better?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, a bit. Still cold and shaky. Would you mind staying for a while longer?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He told you, pulling you against him, sharing his warmth with you. It was true, he didn’t go anywhere for hours, he set up movies for you to watch, and even when you had fallen asleep on his chest, he stayed playing with your hair.

After a few hours, the other two wandered up, peaking through your door and seeing you two cuddled up, both asleep and looking so naturally peaceful.

“This is not fair,” Sirius whispered to James.

“We’ll get our turn.” James replied. “We just have to pluck up the courage to tell her you know.”

Sirius whipped his head toward the bespeckled boy. “We all agreed not to until she made the first move.” He reminded James.

“Yes,” James said quietly, “But I am tired of waiting, and I want her to be laying on me like that.” He pointed to where you and Remus still slept.

Taglist 💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts @enamoredwithbella @babymash @ilovejamespottersomuch @liszblog @sammyreid

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mariacallous · 5 months ago

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Her trans daughter made the volleyball team. Then an armed officer showed up.

Jessica Norton eased her minivan out of the driveway, and she told herself she’d done what any mother would. Her daughter Elizabeth had wanted to play high school volleyball, and Norton had let her. Norton had written female on the permission slips. She’d run practice drills in the yard, and she’d driven this minivan to matches all across their suburban Florida county.

A bumper sticker on the back said “mom.” A rainbow pin tacked inside read “safe with me.” Norton and Elizabeth had spent hours laughing and singing in this extended cab chariot. But this time, Norton had decided to leave her daughter at home.

“Good luck!” the teenager called. “Don’t get fired!”

Until recently, Norton had worked at the high school Elizabeth attended. But last fall, an armed officer with the Broward County Public Schools Police had told Norton she was under investigation for allowing Elizabeth to play girls sports. District leaders banned Norton from the building. They discussed the investigation on the local news, and soon, everyone in Coconut Creek seemed to know Elizabeth is transgender. (Norton asked The Washington Post to use the child’s middle name to protect her privacy.)

In the nine months since, school officials had talked about Elizabeth as if she were dangerous, but Norton knew they couldn’t possibly be picturing the 16-year-old who stood at the edge of the driveway in Taylor Swift Crocs. This girl loved Squishmallows and Disney World. She had long red hair, and she was so skinny, the principal described her to investigators as “frail.”

Elizabeth didn’t have an advantage, Norton thought. She was a normal teenage girl, and yet her very existence had thrust them into one of the nation’s most contentious debates.

Over the last few years, half the country, including Florida, had banned trans girls from playing on girls teams. Proponents of the laws argued that they were fighting for fairness, and the debate had spilled into the stands with an anger that worried Norton. Critics called trans competitors “cheats.” Crowds booed teenage athletes. And some spectators had begun eyeing cisgender competitors for signs of masculinity.

For all that fury, though, no one had been punished yet under one of the bans. Soon, Norton feared, she might become the first. The Broward County School Board planned to take up her case that afternoon, and the agenda included only one proposed outcome: termination.

Norton drove toward her fate and felt nauseous. This life had not been the one she envisioned, but she’d done all she could to ensure it was a good one for her daughter. And she’d succeeded. Before the investigation, Elizabeth had been happy. She’d been a homecoming princess and class president two years in a row. She had friends, near-perfect grades and blue eyes that lit up when she talked about the future.

Now, Elizabeth stayed home and read hateful comments on the internet. She didn’t play sports. She hadn’t been back to Monarch High School.

Norton wanted the light in her daughter’s eyes back. She wanted Elizabeth to have prom and graduation, senior pictures, all the little hallmarks of a teenage life. But first, Norton told herself, she had to fight for her job. She had to return to the school district that shunned her, then somehow she had to convince Elizabeth it was safe for her to go back, too.

Norton was born in Florida in the mid-1970s. She grew up hearing about gay people and drag queens, but the first time she learned about trans children, she was skeptical.

It was 2007. Norton was pregnant with Elizabeth, and she’d turned on the television. Barbara Walters was interviewing a 6-year-old girl she described as “one of the youngest known cases of an early transition from male to female.”

The girl, Jazz Jennings, was cute, Norton thought, but the dispatch unsettled her. How could someone that young know anything about their gender? How could a parent let their kid change their name and appearance?

When Norton gave birth that October, her husband, Gary, picked out a boy’s name, and she bought blue onesies. But almost as soon as Elizabeth could talk, she told her parents she was a girl.

At first, Norton thought their child was confused or maybe gay. Elizabeth begged to wear pink, and she threw tantrums when Norton called her a boy. They fought over backpacks and lunch boxes, school uniforms, haircuts. Norton tried to explain the difference between boys’ and girls’ bodies, but Elizabeth never relented.

“I’m a girl,” she said.

One day in 2013, while Elizabeth was at kindergarten, Norton turned on the TV, and she saw Jazz again. The little girl had a lot in common with Elizabeth. They both loved mermaids. They liked sports, and they seemed to know exactly who they were. Ever since Jazz could talk, her mother said, she had been “consistent, persistent and insistent” that she was a girl.

Oh my god, Norton thought. My kid isn’t gay. My kid is transgender.

Norton collapsed into her couch and sobbed. She didn’t know how to raise a trans child. What if she let Elizabeth transition, then Elizabeth decided she wasn’t a girl? What if someone hurt her?

Norton kept trying to raise Elizabeth as a boy, but eventually, she grew tired of fighting. One afternoon, when Elizabeth was 5 or 6, she asked to wear one of her sister’s outfits to a concert and Norton said yes.

Elizabeth picked a teal ruffle shirt dress with a leopard print. She pulled on a pair of leggings, and when they got to the show, she skipped down the street. Norton had never seen her look that happy.

Though those early years felt hard, South Florida turned out to be an easy place to raise a trans child. The Nortons live in Broward County, a left-leaning community that includes Fort Lauderdale, and its school district was among the first in the United States to adopt a nondiscrimination policy for gender identity. In 2014, when Elizabeth was in first grade, the district released an LGBTQ critical support guide, a wide-ranging document that affirmed trans students’ right to play on sports teams that aligned with their identity.

The superintendent hosted “LGBTQ roundtables” to help parents whose kids were gay or trans. Norton recalled that at one meeting in 2016, she asked if it was possible to change Elizabeth’s name and gender marker on her school records, and he told her yes. (The superintendent later told investigators and The Post he does not remember this conversation, but other people who attended submitted affidavits affirming Norton’s recollection.)

Norton was so excited, she went to Elizabeth’s school that day and asked the assistant principal to make the change.

Norton has always been an involved parent. She volunteered a few times a week at the schools Elizabeth and her two older children attended, and the experience was so positive, she decided she wanted to work in education, too. In the spring of 2017, Monarch High School posted a $15-an-hour job for a library media clerk, and Norton applied even though the job paid $13,000 a year less than she earned as a cake decorator at Publix.

A few months after Norton started, she learned the school board was considering a resolution to create an LGBT history month. Elizabeth said she wanted to testify, so they spent a weekend writing a speech together.

Norton was nervous as they headed inside, but Elizabeth rocked on her heels, excited. She wore her favorite teal dress and a purple headband, and she smiled with all her teeth showing as she and her parents approached the podium.

“I openly transitioned two years ago,” Elizabeth said. “It was the best time of my life. I got to be who I was born to be.”

Elizabeth was 10 then. She’d always had a beautiful face, and people never seemed to look at her and see anything other than girl, but as the school year wore on, she told Norton she worried what would happen once she started puberty.

Norton found a pediatric endocrinologist, and the doctor prescribed a monthly testosterone-blocking shot. As long as Elizabeth took the injection, her voice wouldn’t deepen, she wouldn’t grow facial hair and her body wouldn’t become more muscular the way a boy’s would.

After Elizabeth finished elementary school, she told Norton she didn’t want people to know she was trans. Her new middle school pulled from three elementaries, and most of the kids there had no idea she had ever used another name. She told Norton she wanted to be “a basic White girl,” the kind who wore leggings and drank pumpkin spice lattes, and Norton understood. Most middle-schoolers want to blend in.

The coronavirus shut down schools the next spring, and Elizabeth spent the rest of sixth grade and part of seventh learning online. But Florida was among the first states to reopen, and when Lyons Creek officials announced students could return, they also welcomed kids to try out for sports teams.

Elizabeth was ecstatic. She went everywhere that fall with a volleyball in her hand. She tossed it in the house, and she used the garage door as a rebounder to practice her jump serve. But when she tried out for the team, she didn’t make it past the first cut.

She came home disappointed and told Norton she wanted to get better. Norton didn’t know how to play, but she offered to help. They spent most of the next year in the street outside their house, running “pepper” drills where two people pass, set and hit the ball back and forth.

Norton’s wrists stung by the end of their sessions, but Elizabeth always seemed more energized. Next year, Elizabeth vowed, she would make the team.

As Elizabeth headed into the yard each night, volleyball in hand, she believed the only thing that could keep her off a team was her own ability.

For much of her life, all the big sports associations allowed trans athletes to compete, and most states did, too. Some required athletes to show proof they were taking hormones or blockers, but a dozen states, including Florida, had no restrictions at all. As long as a student could show their gender identity was consistent, they could play.

Trans people represent less than 1 percent of the country’s population, and for decades, state lawmakers rarely mentioned them. But as gay people won protections and the right to marry, LGTBQ+ rights groups and right-wing leaders began looking for new issues to galvanize supporters. Both turned their attention to trans rights.

The community was slowly becoming more visible. Trans people ran for office and appeared on TV, and 17 million people watched as Caitlyn Jenner came out on “20/20.” Trans athletes almost never dominated. But between 2017 and 2019, two trans girls beat cisgender competitors at state track meets in Connecticut, and leading conservative Christian groups warned that other girls would lose athletic opportunities if trans girls continued to compete.

Over the next few years, Florida and two dozen other states passed nearly identical bans on trans girls in sports. Many Republican lawmakers spoke about trans athletes as if they were all the same — tall and muscular, physically dominant, grown men cross-dressing for the sake of a secondary school athletic win. The bill sponsors didn’t mention trans girls who never went through puberty. They hardly ever talked about children like Elizabeth who tried and failed to make a seventh grade team. By 2023, multiple polls, including one by The Post and KFF, found that two-thirds of Americans agreed that trans girls should not be allowed to play girls sports.

Trans athletes remain very rare. A 2021 Associated Press analysis of 20 proposed state bans found that legislators in most couldn’t point to a single trans athlete in their own region. And in Florida, state records show that just two trans girls have played girls sports over the last decade — a bowler who graduated in 2019 and Elizabeth.

Norton doesn’t follow the news, but a friend told her about Florida’s ban the summer before Elizabeth started eighth grade, so Norton went online to read the details. The statute doesn’t list any penalties for young athletes. Instead, it allows competitors who feel they’ve been harmed by a trans athlete to sue that student’s school.

Norton thought Elizabeth might be okay. She had started estrogen by then, and few people knew she was trans. Plus, Coconut Creek still seemed like a safe place. Two weeks after Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) signed the bill, in June 2021, the Broward County School Board unanimously adopted a resolution opposing the ban.

Still, Norton wanted assurance. That summer, with backing from the LGBTQ+ advocacy group Human Rights Campaign Foundation, Norton filed a pseudonymous lawsuit challenging the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act. She didn’t mention any schools. She didn’t use her last name, and she didn’t list Elizabeth’s name.

Norton assumed she’d prevail. A federal judge appointed by President Donald Trump in Idaho had already ruled that that state’s ban was likely unconstitutional and did nothing to ensure the fairness of girls sports.

Norton and Elizabeth never talked about the lawsuit. Instead, they watched the Tokyo Summer Olympics, and Elizabeth fell even more in love with volleyball. As they streamed the Games, Norton researched, and she learned that the International Olympic Committee allowed trans girls and women to compete as long as their testosterone levels were low and they’d identified as female for four years. Elizabeth met all those qualifications. Because she started puberty blockers before her body began making testosterone, her hormone levels looked like any other girl’s.

Though research on the subject remains limited,multiple studies have found that testosterone is the only driver of athletic differences between the sexes. The hormone can give a person a larger physical stature, denser bones and a greater capacity to build muscle. Without it, a trans girl like Elizabeth likely has no physical advantage, researchers have found.

Florida’s new law didn’t make sense to Norton. Elizabeth could compete at the Olympics, but state lawmakers didn’t want her on a middle school team.

Norton had Elizabeth’s birth certificate amended that year, and by the time Elizabeth started eighth grade, she was legally female. When she asked to try out for volleyball again, Norton filled out the paperwork. Next to “sex,” Norton wrote “F.”

When Elizabeth made the cut, she rushed out to tell Norton. She was shocked. She’d been afraid to really hit the ball, she said. She’d tapped it, and the coach had urged her to play harder.

They celebrated at a sports grill, and Elizabeth was too excited to eat. She’d wanted to be on a team with other girls, and now she was.

Elizabeth started high school the next year. She was good enough to make the varsity volleyball team, but she rarely left the bench, and Monarch lost more matches than it won that season. Still, she loved playing. The coach later told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel that Elizabeth “brought an energy” to the team. Other players described her as the team “favorite.”

By then, Norton had become the school’s information management specialist, and she took on a slew of extra jobs to help kids with their student service hours and senior class activities. Norton was so busy, she largely forgot about the lawsuit she’d filed. Her lawyer called her every few months to give her an update, but she didn’t understand much of what he said.

Elizabeth won a starting spot as the volleyball team’s middle blocker her sophomore year. She was 5-foot-8, one of the team’s tallest players, so the coach put her near the net to play defense. She scored a few points over the course of the season, but she wasn’t a hitter. Players need a lot of power to spike a ball the other team can’t return. Elizabeth was 112 pounds and not especially muscular.

Monarch made it to the district semifinals, but its season ended that October with a 3-0 loss to Stoneman Douglas. MaxPreps ranked Monarch 218th out of the state’s 300 girls’ volleyball teams.

Three weeks later, a Trump-appointed district judge dismissed Norton’s lawsuit. The law was not discriminatory, U.S. District Judge Roy Altman found, because it didn’t apply to all transgender students. Trans boys could still play boys sports, he noted.

When the lawyer called to tell Norton the news, she felt the briefest flash of panic. Oh no, she thought. What if they come after me?

Later that month, at the tail end of Thanksgiving break, a work friend asked Norton if she’d seen the email an assistant principal had sent. Norton tried to look, but her school email had stopped working.

There’s a mandatory meeting tomorrow morning, the friend said. It sounds serious.

Norton felt uneasy as she drove Elizabeth to school the next day. She’d heard rumors that some of the boys on the football team lived outside of the district, and she worried she’d be held accountable because her job included overseeing student records.

At the all-staff meeting, an administrator explained that the district had reassigned the school’s principal pending an investigation. Norton felt confused. Everyone liked the principal. He seemed like a stand-up guy, not at all the kind of person who would break district policies.

After the meeting, Norton’s manager told her the school district’s police chief needed to talk to her. Norton met the chief and a school district representative in the principal’s office, and she felt intimidated. The officer was armed. He sat next to Norton, then handed her a written notice and told her she was under investigation.

The notice was inscrutable, just a run of numbers and legalese. Norton told the chief she didn’t understand, and he said she had caused Monarch to break the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act.

Elizabeth, Norton thought. They’re going to ruin my child’s life.

The chief told Norton she was banned from the high school and would have to turn in her keys and laptop, but he assured her the investigation was confidential. No one would know Elizabeth was the reason Norton was in trouble unless Norton told them herself.

Norton spent the next two hours panicking. She called her lawyer, but she was too inconsolable to make out whole sentences. What if she lost her job? What if someone went after Elizabeth?

Just before 11 a.m., Elizabeth texted. She’d looked on the location-tracking app Life360 and seen Norton was at home. Their pet boxer Walter had been sick all weekend, and Elizabeth worried the dog had taken a turn for the worse.

“You’re scaring me,” Elizabeth wrote. “Is Walter OK?”

Norton paced the living room. It took her 20 minutes to work up the nerve, but finally, she called Elizabeth and told her Walter was fine.

Elizabeth asked if Norton had done something wrong, and when Norton said no, Elizabeth asked what happened.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Norton said.

“It has to do with me, doesn’t it?” Elizabeth asked.

She started sobbing before Norton could answer. She asked Norton to pick her up, but Norton told her she wasn’t allowed. A few minutes after they got off the phone, a school employee called. Elizabeth had gone missing.

“Where is she?” the woman asked. “It’s all over the news. Everyone knows.”

Norton checked Life360, and she could see that Elizabeth had left Monarch. Norton asked her husband, Gary, to pick their daughter up, and when they arrived home, Elizabeth ate a pint of ice cream and Gary turned on the news.

A local station called it a “campus controversy.” Reporters said that Norton, the principal and three others had been reassigned because they allowed a transgender student to play volleyball.

News crews showed pictures of Norton and footage of Elizabeth’s team. The reporters didn’t say Elizabeth’s name,but the district released Norton’s, and everyone at school knew Norton had a daughter on the volleyball team.

The phone rang. Norton didn’t recognize the number, so she rejected it, and a man left a snickering voice message.

“So you got a son who likes to sneak into women’s bathrooms?” he asked.

Neither Norton nor Elizabeth left the house the next day. They hid while reporters knocked on the front door, and they watched TV. The local news reported that hundreds of Monarch students had walked out to protest the district’s decision.

Elizabeth was allowed to go back any time, but she told Norton she was scared. What if everyone looked at her, searching for signs of boy where they once saw girl? And what if someone tried to beat her up?

Elizabeth had never been quick to talk about her feelings, but in the weeks that followed, Norton could sense something had changed. Elizabeth spent hours in bed. She told Norton she didn’t care about any of it but pored over online comments about what had happened. That December, Norton’s older daughter came home for the holidays, and she told Norton she could hear Elizabeth through their shared wall. Elizabeth wasn’t sleeping. She was awake, sobbing.

The investigation began that winter. District officials sent Norton to do janitorial work and manual labor at a warehouse, then they interviewed people about Elizabeth. In late January, two officers questioned Norton. They pressed her about the day in 2016 she asked Elizabeth’s elementary school to change her gender marker.

Norton told them every detail she could remember, but she didn’t understand why they were asking. She hadn’t even worked for the school district then. She was just a parent, and as far as she understood, she hadn’t done anything illegal.

A few weeks later, an officer brought Norton a redacted copy of the investigation, then told her a professional standards committee would recommend a punishment within a few months.

Norton read the document at her dining room table, and she felt angry as she made her way through. The then-superintendent had told reporters that an anonymous constituent had called the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and told him a trans girl was playing on the volleyball team. But the informant wasn’t just a constituent, Norton learned. He was a Broward County School Board member. (The former superintendent could not be reached for comment.)

The board had changed considerably in the five years since Elizabeth had testified and thanked its members for keeping her safe. DeSantis had removed several elected board members and replaced them with his own delegates.

The investigation showed that one of DeSantis’s appointees asked the district to investigate Norton. The volleyball season was over by the time Daniel Foganholi reported Elizabeth, but Foganholi told investigators he had received an anonymous phone call “advising that a male student was playing female sports at Monarch High School.” (Foganholi did not respond to requests for comment.)

The investigators’ report was more than 500 pages long, and it took Norton a few days to finish reading. Nearly every page angered her. The officers had spent considerable time trying to find out what Elizabeth looked like. They asked a district administrator to comb Elizabeth’s files and tell them how much she weighed every year between 2013 and 2017. They pushed multiple adults to describe her physically, and they asked three girls on the volleyball team if they’d ever seen Elizabeth undressed. No, the girls said. No one ever used the locker room.

The investigation included transcripts of every interview the officers conducted, and as Norton read, she saw that the officers had repeatedly called Elizabeth “he” in those discussions. On two occasions, the transcripts showed, one detective called Elizabeth “it.” (The investigation is a public document, and The Post reviewed this document and 200 other pages related to the investigation.)

A week before they interviewed Norton, the file showed, they talked to Elizabeth’s middle school guidance counselor, and they asked her to tell them about Elizabeth’s transition. The counselor said she was worried she’d break the law if she did, but an officer told her she wouldn’t.

“No,” the officer said. “I am the law.”

As Norton neared the end of the document, she realized at least some district leaders had known Elizabeth was transgender long before Thanksgiving break. The investigation showed that in 2021, three weeks after Norton filed the lawsuit, the district’s lawyer asked for Elizabeth’s records.

What changed, Norton wondered? Why was the district investigating her now?

Winter turned to spring, and Elizabeth did not return to Monarch. She’d only go back, she said, if Norton went, too.

Norton enrolled Elizabeth in virtual school, but she rarely did more than an hour of classwork. Mostly, she played “Fortnite.” In the game, no one knew what was going on at her school. She was just a girl, spinning across the screen in pink hair and a Nike jumpsuit.

By spring, she was failing geometry. Norton spent most of her time at the book warehouse where she’d been reassigned, but one day in early April, she called in sick so she could spend time with Elizabeth.

Norton waited most of the morning, but Elizabeth didn’t emerge from her room. Finally, at noon, Norton knocked, then pushed Elizabeth’s door open. She was asleep, tucked into a pair of purple floral sheets she’d bought at Target after seeing the same set in a Taylor Swift video.

“Wake up,” Norton said. “We’re going to lunch.”

They drove to a Cheesecake Factory a few minutes from their house. Elizabeth barely talked. After they finished, Norton asked if she wanted to go to Sephora to buy the pistachio-scented Brazilian Crush perfume they both wore.

“Just in and out, okay?” Elizabeth said. “School is getting out soon.”

They made it maybe 20 feet before two teenagers waved. Elizabeth swung right, then disappeared, but Norton didn’t have on her glasses, so she didn’t notice the girls until they were right in front of her.

“Mrs. Norton!” one said. “We miss you!”

Norton scanned the street, but she didn’t see Elizabeth. She wished the girls luck in school, then she found Elizabeth hiding in a row of eyebrow pencils. The perfume was too expensive, Elizabeth said. She left without buying anything.

On the way home, they drove past Monarch, and Norton teared up. She suddenly understood all that Elizabeth might lose. Every year, the seniors paint their parking spots. Elizabeth had already made plans to decorate hers with lyrics from Taylor Swift’s “You’re on Your Own, Kid,” but now, Norton thought, she might never paint one. She probably wouldn’t go to prom. She wouldn’t take senior pictures. She wouldn’t give the graduation speech she’d already started writing.

When they got home late that evening, a certified letter was waiting. Ultimately, the school board would decide Norton’s fate, but the letter said the committee had reviewed the investigative report, and they’d found sufficient evidence to show Norton had broken Florida law.

“The disciplinary recommendation,” it said, “is a termination.”

Norton’s high school salary had always covered their necessities and little else. She worried she’d soon lose even that, so as the investigation dragged on, she took a side job selling merchandise at concerts across South Florida. The Friday night before her scheduled board hearing, she was working a Carlos Santana show when a friend texted to say the board had removed Norton’s name from the Tuesday agenda.

Norton’s stomach sank. She was tired of being silent. She decided she would go to the meeting. She would sign up for public testimony, and she’d tell the school board what had happened to her daughter.

As Norton and her husband sat in the audience that Tuesday, she could feel her heart rate climb. She looked down at her Apple Watch: 110, 120.She worried she might have a heart attack before she reached the podium.

The board reappointed dozens of employees, memorialized three young students, then finally, two hours into the meeting, they called Norton’s name.

She and her husband walked to the microphone, and Norton smoothed her floral dress.

“We are here to speak for our family and tell you how careless actions by the district’s leadership have affected our daughter and our family,” she said.

She had waited 203 days for an answer, she told them. She had done manual labor. She had answered every question, and she had sat through an interview where a detective refused to use her daughter’s legal name or gender.

Norton teared up as she spoke. Her daughter was an innocent 16-year-old girl, she said. Yes, she had played volleyball, but she had done so much more at Monarch. Her peers had chosen her for the homecoming court and student government. She had been flourishing, Norton said, but the district’s investigation had ruined that.

“It’s okay if I’m the villain in their story,” she said, “because I’m the hero in my daughter’s story.”

Things started to change after Norton’s speech. The district set a new hearing for late July, and a number of school board members told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel they didn’t want to fire Norton.

On her way to the final meeting, Norton fiddled anxiously with the minivan’s stereo. As part of an earlier board discussion, one member had asked for other employee discipline data. A reporter had posted the findings that morning while Jessica did her makeup. Adults who’d abused children had served one- and five-day suspensions. A teacher who’d slapped a child received a letter of reprimand.

“They’re recommending a harsher punishment for me than for people who abused kids,” Norton told her husband as she drove.

A dozen people registered to speak. Former students told the board Norton was the reason they made it to college. Most people asked the board not to fire her, but as Norton watched, she couldn’t tell what the district officials might do.

Some said the investigation was flawed. They described Norton as a scapegoat and said Elizabeth had suffered enough. But the chair, a former stay-at-home mom who joined the board after her daughter was killed in the Parkland shooting, said she believed any employee who breaks the law should be punished.

Like the investigation itself, much of the board’s discussion centered on the day Norton asked Elizabeth’s elementary school to change her records. Though Norton hadn’t worked at the district then, Brenda Fam, a board member who had criticized trans people online and in previous meetings, said she thought Norton “inappropriately requested and pressured” school employees.

“I think what happened is criminal,” Fam said. “Norton’s efforts to change her child’s gender have stemmed back to the second grade.”

Fam repeatedly referred to Elizabeth as Norton’s “son.” After the third or fourth time, Norton started to think maybe she didn’t want to go back to Monarch. How could she work for a school board that intentionally misgendered her child?

Norton walked out of the auditorium. Outside, she loaded a stream ofthe meeting on her phone and waited for a decision. The board members were split on what they wanted, but half an hour later, a narrow majority agreed to suspend Norton for 10 days, then move her to a different job where she no longer has access to records.

A scrum of reporters circled Norton and her husband. Norton was proud she hadn’t backed down, but she told them she wasn’t sure what to do now. She had fought for 11 years to keep Elizabeth safe in school. She would do whatever she had to do next to keep her safe still.

“Am I remorseful for protecting my child?” she asked. “Absolutely not.”

The school district told Norton in late August she wouldn’t go back to Monarch. Instead, she’d do clerical work at a nonschool site. Norton didn’t want to leave Elizabeth, but she needed money, so she accepted the job.

The family spent one of Norton’s last free days at the beach, then that evening, Elizabeth said she wanted to watch her old team play. It was an away game, the second match of the year, so they climbed into Norton’s minivan and drove to Coral Springs.

All the girls hugged Norton and Elizabeth when they arrived, and most of the parents did, too. But once the game started, Elizabeth went quiet. She watched, and Norton knew she wanted to be out there with them. They left after the first set.

Norton wanted to cheer up Elizabeth, so she drove her to the mall after the game. Elizabeth didn’t talk the entire time. They ate Chipotle and wandered around, and eventually Norton found Elizabeth in the kids’ section at Marshalls, running volleyball drills with a toy.

Elizabeth passed out on the couch the second they got home, and Norton knew they couldn’t keep living like this.

In all the months they’d been waiting for an end to the investigation, Norton had never considered moving. She loved Coconut Creek. Both she and her husband had lived there their entire lives, and she’d always imagined they’d grow old on their corner lot.

Maybe it was time to let those dreams go, Norton thought. Maybe they were better off moving to a town where no one knew them. Elizabeth might never want to play team sports again, Norton imagined, but maybe, if they found a new school, she could still have a senior year, one last chance at a normal girlhood and the good life Norton had worked so hard to give her.

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russo-woso · 8 months ago

Text

Baby? || Leah Williamson x reader

Part of the mini Williamson universe.

warning pregnancy, morning sickness, IVF, talk of miscarriage, lots of fluff

Summary You and Leah try for another baby

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After discussing trying for another baby, you and Leah decided it was the perfect time.

Amelia was 20 months, Leah was yet to make her comeback so she could be with you during the early stages of your pregnancy, Alessia, your best friend, was now living in London due to her move to Arsenal, there was no reason not to start trying.

Keeping it a secret from everyone, you and Leah visited your fertility clinic that you used when conceiving Amelia and your IVF journey started.

Of course, with Leah's comeback happening in the next two to three months, it was quickly chosen that you'd carry again.

The egg transfer happened pretty quickly after the first appointment, purely due to the fact that you'd gone through the process once before.

You and Leah were ecstatic about the possibility of having another baby within the next year but the process also came with it's downfalls.

Constant worry of something going wrong or the IVF not working.

The hormones making you change moods every few minutes.

The nausea that you felt almost every single minutes of the day.

When you woke up in the early hours of a December morning, you felt so nauseous, not the normal kind though, not the one that you felt everyday.

This kind felt 10x worse.

You jumped out of bed, leaving a fast asleep Leah, and threw up just as you got to the toilet.

“Fuck.” You whispered, wiping your mouth and leaning back against the wall.

You hesitantly reached to grab the stash of pregnancy tests that you'd bought for this exact moment.

Should you take the test with Leah? And see her saddened if it came back positive?

That's not what you wanted, but you would love to have Leah with you when you found out if you're having another baby.

As you debated what to do, you took the test, setting it face down on the counter.

After thinking for several minutes, you came up with a solution that you thought would be best.

You'd turn the test over by yourself and then surprise Leah later if you were pregnant.

You could come up with a cute announcement for Leah.

Taking a deep breath in, you flipped it over, reading one singular life changing word.

Pregnant

You and Leah were having another baby.

You felt dizzy all of a sudden, overwhelmed with emotions.

You sat down on the toilet with the test in your hands, reading the word over and over again as tears escaped your eyes.

As you were about to head back to bed, a small 'mama' was heard over the baby monitor and you made your way into Amelia's nursery, gently picking her up and cradling her on your chest, her head resting in the crook of your neck.

"You going to be a big sister, Ami?" You whispered as her eyes started to close. "Baby in mama's tummy."

"Baby." Ami repeated, laughing at the newly understood word.

Amelia's favourite thing to do at the moment was to repeat words.

"Yeah, you’re going to be a big sister. No tell mummy though." You said, bringing your finger up to your mouth, which Amelia repeated.

Ami giggled just as Leah walked into the room.

"What are my girls laughing about?" Leah asked, her morning voice hoarse and croaky as she enveloped the both of you in a hug, planting a kiss on both your foreheads.

"Mine and Ami's secret." You replied and Ami put her finger up to her mouth, proud of herself for the new action she just learnt.

"Are you okay, love? You seem a bit pale." Leah questioned, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead.

"Probably just side effects. You know what the process does to me." You joked and laughed lightly.

"Hm. Want pancakes for breakfast?" Leah asked, resting a hand on your back before taking Ami from you.

"Pancakes sound good." You replied, following Leah and Ami downstairs.

———————

You and Alessia had made a plan to meet at a small cafe for a coffee date.

Alessia missed Ami, even though she saw her three days ago, but apparently that was too long.

And anyway, you loved coffee dates with Alessia so who were you to say no.

After saying goodbye to Leah, who was going to go do the food shopping, you buckled Ami in the car, before driving into town.

Arriving at the cafe, you held ami’s hand as she walked inside, Alessia immediately picking her up and enveloping her in a hug.

“Lessi.” Ami giggled whilst Alessia tickled her.

“Hi Y/N/N.” Alessia greeted you, hugging you too.

“Hi, less. How was training? Le seemed to be in a good mood when I saw her. Obviously they weren’t too strict on you today.” You questioned, making conversation with the blonde.

“They weren’t. How have you two been? Been on any adventures recently?” Alessia asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Lessi, you do realise we only saw you three days ago. Not much has happened in them three days.” You pointed out, reaching down to grab one of Amelia’s toys that had fallen on the floor.

“Me big sister.” Amelia babbled and your eyes widened at what she said, Alessia’s doing the exact same.

“You’re gonna be a big sister?” Alessia asked Ami, looking t you as she said it.

“Mama say baby.” Ami continued to babble and you buried your face in your hands.

“I’m pregnant. I found out this morning.” You admitted to Alessia, shrugging and smiling as this was definitely not the way how you were planning to announce it.

“Oh my god, Y/N, that’s incredible.” Alessia jumped up to hug you, before picking Amelia up and spinning her around. “You’re going to have a baby brother or sister.” Alessia celebrated with Ami as you watched the special moment.

“I haven’t even told Leah yet. I’m gonna surprise her later. I stupidly told Amelia this morning but with her repeating stuff because like a chatterbox, just like her mummy, I should have known it was bound to get revealed.” You explained, resting Ami on your lap.

“How far along are you?”

“We don’t know for definite, but I’d say about five weeks.” You told her and Alessia smiled emotionally at you. “Why you crying, lessi?”

“I’m just happy for you.” Less shrugged, tears falling down her face.

You brought her in for another hug, Ami joining the hug too.

“Remember, no tell mummy.” You reminded Ami as you pulled away from the hug.

“We’ve got lots of shopping to do.” Alessia smiled, thinking of all the baby clothes you’d have to buy.

“I know, god, my poor bank account.”

———————

Whilst in town, you bought what you needed to surprise Leah.

You bought a baby grow, having it personalised with baby Williamson 2024 on it.

You’d present it with the positive pregnancy test in a small box.

Leah had extended her shopping trip, having to go to four different shops to get the specific ice cream you wanted, so you had the time to set it up.

When you heard the keys in the door, your heart skipped a beat.

Emotions swirled through your head.

Nervousness.

Excitement.

Worry.

Leah entered the kitchen first, dropping all the bags off on the counter before walking through to you.

“Hi, love.” She pressed a kiss to you before moving to pick up Amelia who was playing with her toys. “Hi baby girl, I missed you today.”

“She missed you too. So did I.” You told her, walking through to the kitchen to start packing the food away.

“You go sit down. I’ll do this.” Leah said, her hand resting on your ass, gently squeezing it before ushering you out the kitchen.

Five minutes passed as you anxiously watched Amelia playing with her toys, imagining another little girl or boy playing with her.

As you heard Leah’s footsteps get louder, you thought you’d get it done quickly.

“I’ve got something for you.” You told Leah quickly, as she approached at the door, her hands behind her back.

“I’ve got something for you too.” Leah announced.

“You go first.” You said to her and she brought a bouquet of flowers out from behind her back.

“They’re gorgeous. Thank you, baby.” You pressed your lips on hers before grabbing the box from beside you, handing it cautiously to her.

“For me?” Leah asked and you nodded, an excited smile taking over her face.

As Leah undid the ribbon, you watched her face like a hawk.

She unclipped the box and opened it, her face lighting up as she saw the contents in it.

“You’re pregnant? We’re gonna have another baby?” Leah jumped up, picking you up and spinning you in her arms.

“We’re gonna have another baby, Le.” You confirmed, before she put you down, pressing her lips on yours.

“I love you so much.” Leah said, her thumbs rubbing over your stomach.

“Me big sister.” Ami repeated her new phrase, Leah picking her up and kissing all over her face.

“How does she know?” Leah asked you and you sighed, knowing it was a long story.

“You know our secret from earlier? This was the big secret. I was sick this morning and then I took the test before Ami woke up so I ended up telling her, thinking she couldn’t repeat it, but you have he eyes chatter box gene and now she’s blurting it out everywhere. In front of Alessia too.” You explained, a proud smile on Amelia’s face.

“So Alessia knows?” Leah questioned and you nodded. “Good because you know how bad I am at secrets. I would have probably ended up telling her at training tomorrow. God, I can’t believe it. We’re having another baby.”

“Two mini Williamsons.”

“Me big sister.” Amelia said again for what must have been the fifth time that day.

“Amelia is gonna be a big sister!” Leah cheered, holding her up in the air, Ami laughing.

“Me big sister!”

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fluff

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littlemelaninfics · 5 months ago

Note

Hey girl❤️🥰As a POC I absolutely love your work. You truly do make all of us feel so seen. I have a kinda odd(?) request for a Buck x Reader imagine. Obviously you don’t have to write it if you aren’t comfortable with it but I feel like you’d be able to do it justice

Could you write something about the reader having a bad period and Buck being there to comfort her/take care of her and then some period sex after…yk? I feel like that could be good and I really wanna read something like that.

A Crimson Connection ❤️ || Evan Buckley Smut

WARNINGS: Period Sex, 2.55K words (I got carried away and that's a warning in itself🥰)

A/n: I love you so much! That really means a lot to me and is the whole reason I create for Black (POC) readers 🤎 Thank you for your request and I'm so sorry it took me two months to complete! Period sex is a different kind of horny. You’re SO sensitive and a little sore. A little embarrassed <3 and blood feels so different from your usual pussy lube. Thinner, less viscous, and there’s so much of it. Uh, or so I've heard 👀

After being woken up by a piercing pain in your stomach, you rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Even though you didn’t have to go, hunching over in a solid seating position helped the cramps pass a little easier. You could feel the pressure rising and started to get really nauseous, really fast. Before you knew it, you were prying the lid open and down on your knees.

You closed and flushed the toilet, still breathing heavily. You slouched over, gripping your abdomen and squeezing your eyes shut in pain as another deep pang hit you. It was then that you heard the bathroom door slide open and you didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Buck. You were still moaning and groaning in pain while he slid down next to you, taking you in his arms. You mold into him, but you weren’t prepared for the cold sensation on your forehead and jumped slightly,

“Whoa, sorry. It’s just a rag, baby.”

“Hmmm."

Buck felt bad that your period was this painful every now and then. You suffered from random ovarian cysts that affected your cycle and made you violently ill for at least 24 hours. You two were in the ER two weeks before when your suspicions of the sharp pain were correct. The ultrasound showed a decent size cyst on your left ovary and you were just happy it wasn't both like last time.

He continued to wipe your face with the cloth, pulling you in more and kissing your clammy forehead,

"Is there anything I can do, baby?" He spoke with his lips still touching your temple. The vibrations his voice went through you, sending a calming sensation over your body and mind,

"Mmm mmm," you replied.

"Can you stand?" You just nodded and he began to get up from the floor, you gripping onto his forearm to not lose balance. He walked over to the tub and turned on the shower,

"I need to brush," you said softly while pointing to the counter.

"Shower first. The hot water will feel good, I promise."

You debated extending your argument, but you instead found yourself gripping on to Buck's shoulder riding out another cramp. It faintly passed and you accepted your boyfriend was right. You breathed heavily and nodded your head. Buck helped you pull your night shirt over your head before kneeling to help you step out of your panties. He placed a kiss on your hip, then swiftly stood to his full height,

"I'll be right in the room. Just yell if you need me, okay?" He said as he helped you over the tub.

"Thank you." He smiled gently and kissed your head once more before exiting the bathroom. You slugged your feet to move under the shower head; heavily debating on sitting down but quickly remembering you wanted to clean the tub earlier that day and never got the chance. The hot water sent chills down your spine as it ran though the rows of individuals and onto your scalp.

You grabbed your wash cloth drenching it in the hot water and placing it on your abdomen while you took a few deep breaths. The pain subsided minimally, but you took advantage and quickly finished your shower. Exiting the shower, you grabbed your towel and immediately went to the sink to brush. Instead of opting for your already simple night routine, you made it even simpler by just applying moisturizer, hair oil, deodorant, and chapstick.

You rewrapped your towel before bending down to pick up the clothes you were wearing earlier to put them in the hamper when you felt something run down your inner thigh. Thinking it was water, you wiped it away when you realized it wasn't water. You quickly cleaned yourself up before looking under the cabinet just to find that you never moved the new box of Tampax to the bathroom. Tears immediately started to well as you prepared to leave the bathroom. Buck could hear the sniffles and knocked on the door gently enough not to scare you,

"Baby?"

You didn't answer, but tried to move faster,

"Y/n?" He called through the door while pushing it open. He found you with your clothes bunched in your arms and tears in your eyes,

"Baby! What happened?" he asked as if you were a little kid. And well, you responded like one with your face bunching slightly and the tears falling freely. You couldn't help it. He might as well have asked, "are you okay?".

Buck waited with his eyebrows up, but not actual worry yet. He waited for you to catch you breath, soothing you through your spell,

"I started my period and my tampons are out here, but my cramps are too bad to leave a tampon in right now and I don't have any pads and I didn't want to wear underwear, to be honest. But now I have to pick one because it's usually light the first night so I would've worn my granny panties and no tampon and it would've been fine. But I don't wanna wear underwear," you sobbed out; the words basically strung togther.

"Hey. Hey. Hey. Baby. Baby. It's okay," Buck said bringing you into his chest trying really hard not to laugh. He would never laugh at your pain and/or the fact that you were upset. It was simply the reason you were upset. He held you in the threshold of the bathroom while you calmed down.

"C'mere, Baby." You followed as he grabbed your hand and led you around to the foot of the bed. He reached behind you and grabbed the shirt he picked out for after your shower. Buck unwrapped your towel, letting it fall on the hardwood beneath you. He inhaled deeply while shamelessly taking a flashing glance at your naked frame in front of him before sliding the shirt over your head. This drew an instant blush to your cheeks as you knew what was going through his mind. No. His reflexes. He went against his own instinct to push you back onto the bed and fuck you into oblivion.

He picked up the panties and chucked them across the room, earning a laugh from you,

"There she is," he said smiling widely, "think you can stomach some Tylenol?"

"Please," you said almost begging for a less painful nights sleep.

He walked to your side and grabbed the medicine and water he set out for you.

"You really thought of everything. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And almost everything," he said turning to leave the room. You were confused as you took the pain reliever, but relished in the way the water felt going down your stinging throat. You heard the thudding foot steps coming back and Buck coming back in, when he unrolled a maroon colored towel down on your side of the bed.

"Everything!" He said sticking his arms out and displaying his goofy grin. You were beyond grateful, but instinctively declined because you didn't want to risk anything,

"Y/n. This way everyone is comfortable and if anything happens, who cares?"

You take him on his word and climb into bed. He reaches for your scarf and helped you neatly wrap your hair. Buck leaned down to kiss you, softly running his tongue over your lips. You reach up and grab his neck when he groans begrudgingly and pulls apart. You smile, feeling warm that he still wants you even at one of your lower times. You snuggle in, getting comfortable with the new texture on your butt, while Buck strips down to his briefs and climbs in next to you.

You want to lay on your back, but the medicine hasn't kicked in yet and another cramp was coming. You turned over on you left side and curled into a ball. Buck immediately turned his body your way and brought you close. The cramp faded and you slowly uncurled,

"This sucks."

"I'm so sorry," Buck replied while kissing the good spot behind your ear.

"Mmmm."

"That sounds a little different than before. Does this-" *kiss* "-feel good?" *kiss*

"Mmm hmm."

"Mmmmm," he moaned lowly as he kept kissing that spot. He kissed a spot that was only 3cm over, but it tickled like no other, so of course Buck took advantage and kept kissing that same spot, then all over your face.

You were laughing hysterically when you couldn't breathe,

"Okay. Okay. OKAY! Ha Ha! Stop! Stop! Stop! Don't make me laugh! I'm not wearing underwear! Ha Ha!"

Buck let out a hearty laugh before diving in one last time, just to reach over you and flick the lamp off. While his torso was extended over your body, you could feel his semi-hard cock press into you. He plopped back down next to you, taking you back into the position he had you before. Your eyes were open, but you were surrounded by darkness.

“Mmm. I love you, baby.” He said lowly in your ear,

“I love you too,” you replied. Buck kissed your right shoulder, tightening his arm around you to bring your body closer to his. He rested his head down and got comfortable with you in his arms. As his muscles we tensing and relaxing with each movement, he let out a string of low hums and throat clears.

It’s nothing new. In fact it didn’t take you long to realize he’s just making boy noises. But this time, you’re feeling the vibration of his chest against your back and his mouth is basically connected to your ear. You start to wiggle slightly and let out little moans of your own, but they didn’t mean the same thing as his.

Or maybe they did.

He removes his arm from around your torso and starts to gently rub the side of your thigh, trying to get you settled. He planted one more kiss on your shoulder and you’re pretty sure he felt your body react. You take his hand and slickly snake it up to your chest. He pulls you once more, this time with more intent as he squeezes your tit.

He picked up right where he left off and started placing kisses to your spot again. His groans laced with lust and desire as he attacked your skin, nipping down to the side of your neck. You hips are grinding into each other. Your eyes go wide, realizing there is a point of no return and you're approaching it rapidly.

You halt your movements and push your hand back to stop Buck. Your chests are rising and falling, your bodies getting flustered so quickly.

"Buck. We've never...."

"And we don't have to if you don't want to."

"You want to?" You asked, craning your neck back to look at him in the dark.

"I crave you in any form you're in. So yeah, I want to. I want you." He whispered the last part like a sly fox.

"But-” you cut yourself off trying to think of an excuse as to why this is not a good idea,

“Let me help you feel good, baby,” He said, nudging your head back to the side to kiss your spot again. Your eyes close gently and your arm reaches back to hold his the nape of his neck. Buck begins to slowly grind his hips back into your t-shirt covered bum, nipping at your skin while still peppering kisses. His fingers hook your jaw and he brings your lips to meet his. It takes no time for the fight for dominance to take place, but you retreat. Letting Buck take the reins tonight.

Your kisses deepened, passion overcoming any lingering uncertainty. As your tongues explored one another’s mouths, giggles and warmth filled the air. It felt liberating, shedding the last remnants of hesitation and embracing the whole of each other, unfiltered and raw.

His hand travels down your silhouette, softly tracing his fingers along your thighs once more. He brought his body even closer into you, making you moan into the kiss. You reach back, palming his cock through his briefs and getting a similar reaction from him. Buck hand starts to inch in towards your pussy, causing you to break away,

"I'm okay tonight. I just need you."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Mmmhmm," you say, pulling him back in. The truth is you were hesitant enough about having sex on your period and the thought of staining his fingers red was too much to handle right now. Buck moves his lips to nibble on your shoulder through your shirt as he frees his cock, wrapping his left arm underneath your body and puling you back to him like a little doll.

He rubs his cock against your slick hole before gently prodding. You lean your head back on his shoulder while he takes his left hand and lightly wraps it around your throat,

"Are you ready, baby?" He asks directly in your ear.

"Yes, please. I need you," you beg, reaching your hand back to pull him in this time. He chuckles lightly at your impatience and reminds you of your safe word. Buck finally pushed his hips forward, both of you moaning at the stretch. His movements were cautiously slow, paying attention to every single reaction. The pain was a lot at first, but focusing on the pain slowly turning to pleasure distracted you from the blinding cramps.

Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. Every touch, every whisper, felt electric. You was surprised to find how the experience intensified your sensations. Rather than feeling restricted by your period, you were allowed to feel empowered. You and Buck created a world for yourselves that night. One where you could fully embrace your desires without boundaries.

Buck transcended your whole being into an unknown world. You both thought you had little left to explore together, yet here you are with the love of your life on the adventure of a lifetime. The moans and deep grunts filled the room as you both chased down that high. When he knew he could, Buck applied more weight to your hip as he pushed himself up and deeper into your body. Practically now fully on top of you.

His thrusts became more frantic, yet never missed the mark. He lowered his torso over yours, cradling your angelic face and your orgasms crashed into both of you. His movements never stopped has beads of his sweat started to drip down on your from the tip of his nose.

Buck's hips finally slowed as he leaned down for a lingering kiss, the kind that lingered longer than any other, filled with warmth and connection that transcended the physical. In that moment, you felt closer than ever—a bond deepened by you willingness to break societal taboos and embrace your bodies as they were.

You welcomed his weight on top of you as your breathing started to slow. Rain began to patter against the window, and you two drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. The night held no judgments, only the promise of a love that was true and unashamed, building a foundation on trust, intimacy, and the freedom to explore the beautifully messy reality of life together.

#evan buckley #evan buckley smut #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x black!reader #buck 911 #911 smut #black reader

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thehmn · 1 year ago

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I was listening to a non-religious podcast where an Evangelical Lutheran priest was talking about Satan and he was like “If you take away everything about the devil that isn’t in the Old and New Testament what do you have? An angel who isn’t anti-God but anti-human. He loves God. He sees God and the world He created as perfect, but by placing humans over angles the perfect order of things were cast into chaos. All Satan ever does is point out how dirty and disgusting and unworthy of God’s love humans are. When God is excited about Adam and Eve the snake, who admittedly may or may not actually be Satan, goes out of his way to expose them. When God gets excited about Job Satan tries to prove that Job doesn’t actually love God. When God chose a new leader for the Jews Satan says he is unworthy because his clothes is filthy. When God himself becomes human Satan is besides himself with disgust. Satan is at the heart of his being a conservative”

And I know this is probably going to turn into a religious debate or whatever but I’m just so tickled by the mental image of conservative Satan getting nauseous and throwing up a little in his mouth at the sight of his perfect beautiful God in a disgusting, smelly human body. Just fucking keeping a bucket nearby every time he talks to Jesus because it’s the worst fucking thing he has ever been exposed to.

#religion #devil #christianity

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dollysoob · 2 months ago

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enhypen moodboard #2 - vampire ver

heeseung 💋

vampire!heeseung who can’t help but take a bite out of you when eating you out in his dorm. he’d purposefully tease you by licking a stripe up your thigh and start sucking blood from your leg while two or even three of his fingers pump your soaked cunt.

vampire!heeseeung who sneaks into your room at night and sucks blood anywhere he can. you’d wake up to find him devouring your pussy and puncture marks everywhere on your skin.

vampire!heeseung who thinks you taste like candy and compares the taste by sucking you dry. he’d bite into your shoulder once, suck some blood, then get out different candies to find out which one you taste like the most so that he doesn’t have to keep drinking your ethereal blood.

jongseong 🩸

vampire!jay who doesn’t care whether you’re in public or not, if he wants to drink, he’ll drink. you’d be at chanel or dior and all of a sudden, he’ll start acting very needy and touchy. next thing you know he’s sucking you like there’s no tomorrow in the backseat of his car.

vampire!jay who likes to take it slow when fucking you. he likes seeing you whine and beg him to go faster. whenever you complain, he bites your neck and sucks some of your blood to make you nauseous and it really shut you up sometimes. in the end, he’ll still fuck you dumb after you quiet down.

vampire!jay who tries to substitute your blood for your cum. it’s hard, though, because he drinks some of your blood everyday. jay begs you to sit on his face daily because he thinks the taste of your cum is like creamy vanilla ice cream. when you finally give in, he’ll eat you out like a starved man, praying you’d have more than one orgasm. this way, you don’t get your blood drawn out by his fangs.

jaeyun 🌹

vampire!jake who gets energy off your blood. before a show, he’ll have you pinned up against a wall, giving you lovebites on your neck and collarbone. once he’s done with that he’ll slowly and tortuously start going over the hickeys and sucking blood from every. single. one. he won’t stop until it looked like an octopus tried hugging you.

vampire!jake who gets off by pictures of you wearing small lingerie in red-, his favorite color. he’d jerk off for hours, biting his lip so hard that he draws blood from himself. the moment you come to his dorm, he’ll already be nude, just in his boxers with a bulge sticking out of it. he’ll spend the entire night knocking you up trying to make you forget his own name.

vampire!jake who has a high sex drive in the middle of the night. he’d dry hump his pillow, thinking it’s you and cum all over it. by the time you come over, he’d probably already had at least two orgasms just from the thought of you. he’d suck you dry as punishment because you took too long to get there. 🤕

a/n :: debating whether to make a part two with sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon.

#enha x reader #enhypen #enha imagines #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen smut #enha moodboard #enhypen scenarios #enha sunoo #enha #enhypen sunghoon #vampire enhypen #enhypen vampire au #vampire enha #🍷💋🩸🌹

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luveline · 5 months ago

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do you think you could do something with zombie au where reader is on her period? thank you!!

thank you for your request! fem, 1k

You’ve gotten your period three times since the apocalypse began. The first time, you and Steve were just beginning to get along, and he’d proved why you trust him as you do, treating the whole thing with kindness. More recently, he’s your unofficial boyfriend. Like, kissing you and holding you, but foregoing the conversation that would make you an official couple.

Either he doesn’t want to be official (which is fine, it’s not like he’s going anywhere), or you’re official without words. You’ve assumed the latter because the former makes you nauseous.

Not that you need much help in that department. Your stomach churns like a tide, bouts of sickness and pain that hit you rampantly as you follow Steve downstairs.

“Can I take my shoes off?” you ask.

“Why are you asking me? It’s not my house.” Steve descends the last step and holds his hand behind him for you. Seemingly to help you down a step you don’t need help with.

You’re asking because taking your shoes off means getting comfy for the night, and he doesn’t want to do that at every house you break into.

You don’t explain yourself. You follow Steve into the living room, hoping he’s going to take your hand again. He nudges you with his hip into a mildly dusty couch.

You sit. “What, are we gonna watch TV?” you joke.

“You look sickly.”

That’s not nice. “I do?” you ask, all teasing gone from your tone. You often wish you were much prettier, and occasionally beg fate to drop a bottle of medical grade body wash into your lap, if just to make Steve see you that way. But Steve’s kissed you with a greasy nose and blood on your chin. You were hoping appearances didn’t matter.

“You look awful,” he says, his eyebrows stitching together as he heads into the kitchen. “Stay sat down!”

“Awful?” you ask.

He doubles back, face peeking around the doorway. “Not like that,” he says hurriedly. “Just, sick. I’m gonna cook you something.”

“I don’t need to be sat down, I’m fine.”

He disappears again. “That why you’re glaring at me?” he calls, his voice echoing against tile.

You don’t have the energy for whatever it is that’s happening. You kick your legs out on the couch and begin kneading the swollen mess that is your stomach, debating on telling him why you’re grumpy. It’s not like he cares. He never finds it gross, but you don’t want him to pity you either. It’s just a period.

(It really sucks.)

“Alright, the hot plate is on,” he calls. “What do you want, huh? We got the split pea soup, or the chicken casserole?” He laughs. “The casserole, duh. Ten minutes and it’s yours.”

Your breath rushes out through your nose. Stomach hurts, head hurts, he’s making you dinner and laughing where you can’t see him. You force yourself to get up, shuffling to the kitchen with a pout already in place.

“Ten minutes is not right,” you say, announcing your movement so he doesn’t stab you.

“Is too right. How come you never listen?”

“Steve, please don’t be mean to me, I’m on my period.” You wince as a pang climbs your back.

“Oh, you are?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well… I’m glad, sort of. Better that then the flu, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

A couple of weeks ago, he would’ve told you to go back to the couch, and he would’ve brought your food in to you, wrapping a blanket over your legs and leaving you to it. But this is now. Your unwilling protector has gone remarkably soft on you.

“Is it like last time?” he asks, holding out his arm.

You drift toward him, pretending it isn’t to be hugged. “It hurts, if that’s what you mean.”

“It hurts,” he repeats in a murmur as his arm finally curls around your waist. He pulls you into his side.

“You’re pitying me.”

“You like it,” he jokes, his tone still held in that soft murmuring.

You close your eyes, driving your nose into his chest. The hot plate gurgles weakly on the stove, using the last of a canister of camping gas, a few days from the end of its life. Your eyelids feel heavy closed, achy not with tears but fatigue, and your head aches with a migraine you know from experience won’t be defeated using tylenol. But Steve hugs you with one arm and leans against you as you press into him. Stuck together. He doesn’t move for ages.

“I’m glad I don’t get my period,” he says.

“You act like you do.”

“Were you not gonna tell me? I guess you don’t have to, but if you’re in pain, I’d like to know.”

“Don’t need you to feel any more sorry for me.”

“I don’t. Just like rubbing your back.”

Your heart skips a beat. That’s as close to a confession of feelings you’ve ever gotten from him. Well, verbally. His sporadic kissing says a lot.

“Thanks for telling me,” he says. You have to strain your ears to hear him. “I don’t think there’s much iron in chicken casserole. I wish we… How much iron is there in squirrel?”

“I don’t wanna eat squirrel.” Again.

“It’s good for you.”

Doubtful. You turn completely into his touch and hug him. “Please don’t make me eat squirrel.”

You sound a teeny tiny bit pitiful, and you earn yourself an even better hug than the first. “I won’t, I won’t, I was just kidding,” he promises, “I just figure you need it. Maybe if we look through the medicine cabinet they’ll have some multivitamins or something.” His hand grabs at your side. It’s not a careful touch, though he’s far from spiteful. “You need painkillers, right? I could crush a Vicodin into your casserole.”

“Yes, please.”

Steve’s nose presses into the side of your face. You feel close to him in a way that chokes you up, but you don’t need to talk any more.

“Half a Vicodin,” he deliberates, “and I’ll rub your back.”

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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tinietaehyun · 3 months ago

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Whims of the Wicked

[Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [One-shot] [Series]

Pairing: Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, supernatural, dark romance, action, thriller, Alice in Wonderland inspired.

Contains: Profanity, mention of hallucination, spores, delusions, existential dread, asphyxiation, gaslighting, manipulation, obsessive behaviour.

Links: Wondrous Tales Masterlist || Masterlist

Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful support on this one-shot series, I’m so glad you enjoyed them all! I hope you enjoy the last instalment of these one-shots!

Summary: You break the loop and take the Hatter off guard by your boldness, managing to somehow bypass his riddles and games. With all your remaining strength, you run deliriously, where? You don’t know.

All you know is the thousands of signs reading and pointing to an “exit” were taunting you. You couldn’t believe them. Not anymore, you couldn’t believe anyone, or anything in this world. You were not stupid enough to follow those damn signs and so, you go the opposite path. Into the Dark Woods.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear a voice, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

Arrows. Lots of them. Bewildered, you continue walking seeing the hundreds of decaying wooden sign posts with crooked arrows pointing down a path. Exit signs supposedly.

However, after your delightful time in Wonderland so far, you knew those arrows were far from the exit, and far from pleasant. In fact they’d probably lead you even deeper into this hellhole and make you lose your sanity entirely. You certainly were on the precipice of losing it for sure.

Thus, you find your feet sharply walking in the opposite path. The path twisting and winding toward the Dark Woods, the home of the infamous Cheshire Cat. Well, infamous to everyone here, not you, you didn’t know him at all. Though, through your time here, you’d heard more about the Red King of Hearts more than him.

Perhaps that wasn’t exactly a good thing. It makes you anxious in fact, knowing so little. The Hatter and the King, you were anticipating but this…whoever this was, you had absolutely no idea. Your eyes drift to the murky, misty and dark woods up ahead. Living in a place, so dark, decrepit…such a stark contrast to the vibrant and colourful landscape of Wonderland - it makes you think, truly what would this individual be capable of?

Could you make it past him too, in a twist of fate, like you did the Hatter? You don’t know. Just something deep inside your gut, instinct, you could call it, made you feel borderline nauseous. What monster lurked in those woods. The crooked and jagged silhouette of the trees was already enough to spook you.

The path gradually grows crunchier, less neatly trimmed and pretty morphing into dark dirt, with decaying leaves and dark green and black foliage. Oh…how pleasant indeed. It almost looked like the real world (whether that was a good thing or not, was debatable!)

The trees seem to loom over you as you approach closer and chill runs up your spine making your hairs stand on end. The energy here was ominous, making you alert, even the slightest crunch in your footsteps seem to startle you. Every noise, every breath of yours seemed to be just a little louder than normal.

No birds chirping, no scurrying squirrels, not a single glimpse of a deer or even the buzz of a bee. Nothing. Just the trees and decaying leaf litter below your feet which seemed to sound like you were stepping on bones rather than just leaves, but you didn’t want to think too much into it. How on earth did that one escapee get here and make it out?

This place…it was just so different. So isolated, so secluded away from everything, almost like its own pocket dimension or liminal space unaffected by the insanity inducing tendrils of Wonderland. In fact…as odd as it was, whilst yes, you were shaking in your boots, so to speak, you were also relatively…calm.

Almost as if your fractured psyche was not so fractured, or well almost on a time-out of sorts. Your sanity was almost…suspended. An eerie anxiety inducing calmness within you - the calm before the storm perhaps?

You hated this feeling but simultaneously it was a welcome reprieve from your brain getting turned to utter mush and your perception of- well, everything becoming distorted.

You peer up at the sky, that sunset now moving far too fast for your liking (maybe the sun being stuck in one place was more beneficial for you than you had initially anticipated); the thought of being stuck wandering in here at night, not good. Not good at all. It was already dim, murky and misty enough.

Well fuck. You made it this far, that was certainly something right? Your heart pounds against your chest and shaky breaths leave your quivering lips. Was it just you or did it get rather cold?

No, no it wasn’t, you could see your breaths smoke and swirl in the air as you released them. Okay, good to know you weren’t quite insane just yet. It actually had gotten colder.

You find yourself walking a little faster. You yelp feeling a cold caress on the back of your neck. Was that merely the breeze? Oh fuck. You snap your head to the left - you heard a rustle there. To the right - a snap of a twig. With ragged breaths, you speed up your pace.

‘Run, run, run, pretty thing.’ A whisper crawls up your ear canal and you scream.

The world around you morphs and the trees seem to wane and grow, the spiky, crooked arms seeming to reach out towards you. Were those eyes or just the swirl of the bark? Is that a mouth or just a hole in the tree? Why did the ground feel so unstable?

With closer inspection, why did this air seem to have minuscule specs of white pollen suspended in the air. Had you been breathing all this in? Why wasn’t it there before? Your head pounds in disorientation. Every direction, every tree looked the same.

You grimace, clutching your head and crouching attempting to pitifully ground yourself, “Ah…shit, my head…” Scratch everything you had said before. This place was not relaxing by any means! You couldn’t even think straight anymore.

‘Confused?’ A whisper to your left taunts. ‘Dizzy?’ Another whisper behind you sneers. You frantically peer around only to see nothing. Your heart erratically palpitates in your ribcage, your mind attempts to make sense of the situation.

Taunting whispers, snickers, the rustle of bushes and phantom footsteps. You were going insane! You let out a yell of frustration, piercing through the forest.

A tsking mock resounds behind you making you spin around. You probably looked quite like a lunatic flailing around so pathetically. ‘Tsk, tsk, I didn’t think our newest guest was such a scaredy cat.’

You shakily yell, “Where are you? W-Who are you?” You knew who it was but had to confirm it. It had to be the Cheshire Cat! You hadn’t even seen him yet and here he was toying with you as if you were ball of yarn akin to a cat’s paws!

A malevolent giggle resounds out making a shiver travel down your spine. ‘Mm-mm, now that’s more like it! What a lovely little voice you have…’

A cold breeze brushes against your cheek and neck making you shiver. ‘So pretty too, what a shame; the others didn’t even bother to tell me there was a new guest? Then again, most never make it this far. So…that must make you even more special, hm?’

You snap, your senses becoming more and more delirious, “Show yourself!” A low chuckle reverberates as the mysterious voice muses, ‘Are you sure you want that? Don’t you think it’s safer for you if I remain hidden? But oh well, since you insist. Who am I to deny such a pretty thing, their wish?’ Oh hell no! You should’ve kept your mouth shut!

You begin sprinting, weaving your way through the brambles and foliage, feeling the branches tug at your clothes, scrape against your skin. You had to get out of here, escape these taunting voices, icy touches.

Everything seems to converge, everything looked the same, waning shadows, smiling trees, the darkening sky. It felt as though you were spiralling into an abyss of confusion and deliriousness.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear the voice again, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

The air escapes your lungs for a moment as you process the sight. His ebony locks fall haphazardly across his forehead, a few strands over his eyes. Those eyes. Eyes which held forbidden knowledge, secrets, desires, twisted dreams and thoughts. Murky orbs which seem to glimmer with a twinge of curiosity, malice and desire? His gaze pierces into you from his position up in the tree, lounging with his limbs weightless as though he were a big cat. A pointed nose and lush rosy lips, stretched out into a wide smile, a little too wide.

Breathless, you utter shakily, stepping back, “The…Cheshire Cat…” His eyes glimmer and brows furrow as he tilts his head ever so slowly, as though observing every little movement of yours with precision, like a feline zoned in on its pitiful prey.

He laughs sitting up, “Oh…have the others told you about me? I’m flattered, usually they ignore my existence altogether.” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, none of the others had mentioned him, well outrightly you suppose, or at all. Only the Blue Caterpillar had.

Your heart races, adrenaline pumping through your vessels. Was he the cause of the voices…he had to be! Your gaze flits up again and you almost jump seeing him staring at you with such intensity. You notice his sharp black nails digging into the bark of the tree.

His grin widens impossibly so; you shake your head. Was your vision going bad? Were you hallucinating- you swore you just saw rows of teeth, his lips stretched impossibly wide. How horrifying. You peer at him again to see his resting smile again, accompanied with a mischievous gaze.

“Oh? Sweet thing, you look terrified. See something you didn’t like?” He coos swinging his legs off the branch. Your heart leaps to your throat, he was going to jump down.

Instinctively, you take a step back and another. However, as fate would have it, your foot catches on a tree root and you topple backwards with a shriek. You swear that root wasn’t there earlier!

The Cheshire Cat lets out a breathy laugh before leaping down with the utmost grace, knees bearing the brunt of the force of the jump down. His hands on the dark leaf litter brace the impact, not a single sound. As quiet as a cat… he tilts his head with a menacing smile, not showing quite so many teeth this time.

He was simultaneously alluring yet terrifying creating a whirlwind of conflict within your body. You could tell. He was different. Much different. Another entity entirely from the others here. There was a whole other aura surrounding him, making you feel nauseous but you also didn’t want to leave. Wait- why didn’t you want to leave?

The Cheshire Cat murmurs, one hand moving in front of the other as he almost crawls, no-stalks towards you, “So much fear, yet so little noise. Usually, my trespassers make so much noise from their screaming; it really does hurt my sensitive ears. I hear everything, you know. For example…”

In a flash of a second, you let out a shrill yelp as he’s suddenly in front of you crouching over your outstretched legs, placing a hand over his heart with a dark gaze, “…your heart. Pretty thing, it’s beating so fast. Are you scared of me?”

Close up, he’s even more infuriatingly mesmerising, a constant smirk on his lips, eyes that held depths that you couldn’t comprehend. His skin almost glistens alluringly under the dimming sky.

He shifts closer; your eyes widening and breath hitching as he outstretches his hand cupping your jaw, not too tightly but firm enough, and pushes upward closing your lips. You have to refrain from disintegrating on the spot- how embarrassing! Your mouth was hanging open!

With a sly grin, he leans down not letting go, “Having those pretty lips parted in shock, have we? Am I that terrifying to look at or…can you not get enough of me? Which one is it?” Even his tone of voice was enough to bewitch any man or woman. Slightly elongated words, a coy edge to his voice, complete with a touch of condescending and seductive tones.

You feel his nail press into the skin of your cheek and he groans, “Oh, you’re so soft. If I press just a little harder…” you whimper as he does so, “I’d have you painted in streams of red.” A delighted laugh escapes his lips making you shudder. “…Yes, yes, oh you’d look so pretty in red.” The Cheshire Cat gazes down at your fearful eyes and muses with an almost patronising coo, “Oh don’t worry sweet thing, I’m not that cruel. I don’t get visitors often, if at all, and well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so I won’t rip you to shreds and leave you hanging on a branch to rot.”

You grimace visibly at such a revolting thought. He releases his grip and seems to rake his gaze over you with a widening grin, “I’m the Cheshire Cat indeed, but you, you sweet thing, can call me just, Taehyun. Got that?” You say nothing, still reeling in from everything.

His expression falls off his face and he snaps darkly, “I said. Got that?” You stammer, “Y-Yes-“ “Yes, what?” He purrs. You shakily reply, “Uhm…yes, Taehyun?”

An amused laugh almost mocking escapes Taehyun’s lips, “Oh, you humans are always so easy to control. A little fear… a little raising my voice and it gets you to do whatever I ask. How endearing…”

Taehyun reaches out, taking a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his index finger in a nonchalant manner as you’re sat bruised and scraped up, frozen in fear. “You’re rather delicate aren’t you? How did a thing like you make it out this far? Yeonjun would have eaten someone like you right up. Even so, you made it past him. Impressive. Even more so, is fleeing the Hatter. Oh poor Beomgyu. I’m sure you know his pitiful plight? Oh yes, you even managed to get the White Rabbit’s head chopped didn’t you? Oh dear…quite the mess, hm?”

Your eyes widen, he knew everyone. Knew all their mannerisms, situations. He sighs observing the soft strands around his finger, “The sky’s actually darkening. Perhaps I’ll see night for the first time in a long, long time. That’s because you broke the loop right? Quite the feat.” His gaze snaps back up to yours startling you, “Aren’t you just something, oh so, special?”

You murmur tentatively as he lets go of the strand, “How- how did you-“ Taehyun cuts you off with manic glee in his eyes, “How did I know all that?” You nod slowly, shaky breaths leaving you.

“Oh sweet thing…” he leans in incredibly close, breath fanning your face, his murky irises entrancing yours as he slyly grins, “I know everything that I need to know. Even about you..”

You? About you? What? You flinch back, “About m-me? What…that’s impossible- I’m not from here.”He lets out a chuckle, “You’re not. You’re from the other world. The real world, as you call it, no? The boring monotony of humanity lies out there.”

Taehyun’s hand tilts your chin up, his lips inches from yours as he whispers tauntingly. The same as the voices from before. “…that boring old job you have. Typing away. So much dismal paperwork. The same boring routine. Coming home and lounging around, turning that white cat lamp on. Aren’t you glad you set foot here? So much more fun.”

You shake your head frantically, “No, no- absolutely not! This was the worst experience of my life,” your voice cracks, “I feel-I feel like I’m slowly going insane! I can’t stay here any longer otherwise-“ you pause. Wait. White cat lamp? How the fuck did he know that?

You stammer delirious, “How did you-?” Taehyun grins, finishing off for you, “Know that?” Your blood runs cold. He coos, “As I said before, I know, everything. The moment you set foot into this place, you let me into your mind. Let me into your fragile little psyche.” Mockingly, his taps his index against your forehead.

“This little place here, who knows? How do you know if any of this is real? What if it’s just a lucid dream, a fever dream? Oh, did you take any drugs before this?” You shake your head, eyes glazing over as a disgusting sensation of existential dread fills you. “What if you’re just hallucinating? Seeing me?”

All of a sudden he disappears. You peer around in panic. You snarl teary-eyed, “Hey! Hey Taehyun! Get back here! You can’t just-“ He left. An eerie silence permeates the air and you tremble. No. No it couldn’t be. He was just toying with you. Right?

‘Am I?’ His voice rings in your mind. You shriek, “What the fuck?” Did you hear him behind you?

‘Look to the left of you, pretty thing.’

You slowly crane your head to your left and see him standing there with a twisted smile. He blows into your ear, and you grimace scooting back, “Don’t do that!” You splutter out.

Taehyun muses, “Oh? Did you miss me too much in the seconds I was gone?” You snap, “No! I didn’t mean-“ He murmurs, “Well, lucky for you I don’t care what you meant.”

What a piece of-

All of a sudden his index finger presses against your lips and a sly grin appears on his face, “Now, now, let’s not insult me. I don’t like being insulted, Y/n.” Fuck. Even knew your name!

The Cheshire Cat could read your mind. He really did mean that he knew everything. Taehyun really did mean that you let him into your mind!

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, “My, my, having a mental crisis?” He leans down with a dark gaze, “Don’t worry, I won’t pry into your filthiest crevices full of your precious secrets,” he pouts, “I’m not that cruel, you see. Everyone’s entitled to privacy of course, well, that and I’m not feeling that curious. Yet.”

Taehyun sits back leaning back onto his palms with a coy smile, “Ah, I’m beginning to get rather bored now. Should we play a game?” You shake your head frantically with your hands clasped together. “No, no, please. No more games…I can’t handle anymore. I beg.” You couldn’t take it.

Taehyun pouts with a condescending tone, “Aw, is Wonderland’s newest guest tired of playing already? The others must have done quite the number on you then, if you’re so reluctant. But that’s not fair on me, is it? You’ve played with them. Why not me?”

Because you knew this time, you wouldn’t be able to win. This entire place. He could manipulate it with ease, no matter where you ran, his voice would taunt you, distract you, make you spiral into madness.

A devious laugh emits from him, “Mm…quite the pessimist aren’t you, thinking like that. Not even going to try? I was thinking, Hide and Seek. Maybe Tag?” You shake your head, with trembling hands, “I don’t have the physical or mental strength right now for anything, please.”

Taehyun muses running a hand through his raven locks, “You sound so pretty when you beg and plead. Almost enough to make me consider your wishes.” Almost?

The tall man stands stretching his arms with a yawn. He towers over you with a menacing smile, “Yes almost. I like you.”

You peer up at him blankly startled by the random set of words. He resumes, “I like you a lot. So here’s what we’re going to do. As punishment, for trespassing in my woods, you’re going to play one round of tag with me. Think you can manage that?”

Pathetically, you splutter, “That’s not fair! You have so much advantage in this place- I’ll lose!” He lets out a giggle, “Ah, ah, ah, I never said if you lost that it’d be a bad thing. I just want to play. See you in action, after all, you slipped past the others.”

So…just for fun? For his sick amusement?

Taehyun leans down grinning, “Yes. Precisely, sweet thing. For my sick amusement. I want to see your pretty face scrunched up in fear, your delicate limbs deliciously tremble from the very thought of me hunting you down. And after I find you…” a malicious little laugh resounds from his mouth, “Well, anything really. Maybe I’ll comfort you. Maybe I’ll tie you up with some vines, leave you hanging upside down for a while. Perhaps…I can even offer you something that we’d both like,” a seductive twinkle appears in his eyes.

He had just said if you lost it wouldn’t be a bad thing! So what on earth were these options?

“Not a bad thing for me, sweet thing. A bad thing for you, perhaps. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to…maim you in the process. Let me apologise in advance,” he glances down at his nails, sharp enough to pierce skin, “My… nails can be a little…sharp, let’s say. But don’t worry, dying isn’t an option for you. Although, maybe you’ll wish to die, most people do, anyway.”

Your eyes widen mortified as his jaw moves with a sickening crack, rows of teeth appearing as his lips widen horrifyingly. His voice rasps out, “I’ll be a gentleman and allow you a ten second head start. Ten, nine…”

With that, you stand and bolt off in whatever direction. It was pointless, he’d win, you both knew that. It was just a sadistic game to him. However, instinct cried out to you to keep running. After all, you were the prey and he was the hunter.

‘…Three, two, one, here I come…’ his voice taunts you.

Panting, you run as fast as you can, weaving through the trees, jumping over the roots, ducking under branches. The waning shadows and crooked branches seem like they’re reaching out for you, looming ominously watching your every move. It was useless to run, he’d catch you. So why were you doing it? Indulging him? Because you were scared.

Perhaps you could prolong your inevitable fate just that little bit longer. You hiss in pain as a branch tears into your arm as you sprint past. This damn forest!

The caterpillar had said that the way out was here, Taehyun had to know the way out. There was clearly nothing he didn’t know. Would you be doomed to be his toy for his sadistic whims forever?

A menacing chuckle emits from your left side and then your right. ‘I can see you…don’t you look adorable running?’

You attempt to drone out his voice. Run. Just keep running. You couldn’t make it too easy for him after all. The forest seems to spin deliriously around you, your sense of direction lost to the wind.

Your lungs burn, muscles twitching and aching immensely as your stamina depletes rapidly. You weren’t exactly the most fit person- but having it bite you back now, was just dreadful. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention in Physical Education.

‘Slowing down? Don’t tell me you can’t run anymore.’ Taehyun snickers in your head.

You released ragged breaths leaning back against a tree. If you ran anymore, you were sure you would pass out. Tears brim in your eyes and your limbs tingle with pain at the sheer exertion. You close your eyes leaning your head back, lips parted for breath.

What a useless chase…worthless. For a moment, all is silent. You know he’s probably right behind you, prowling around somewhere. Oh well… some twisted part of you thinks, perhaps if you played along, he’d get bored and put you out of your misery.

What the hell? What were you thinking? Had you given up hope so quickly? Your heartbeat eases with your breathing. How has Taehyun not found you yet? Was he just waiting for you to open your eyes?

All of a sudden you hear a breathless laugh. He was here. Your body stiffens and you keep your eyes clamped shut. His voice purrs out, “Found you.”

Yeah, yeah. Of course, how surprising.

Another laugh emits from him, “Don’t think that way. It was rather fun, no? I made it easy for you; didn’t even manipulate the environment. You should be on your knees, thanking me, that I don’t have you hanging by your ankle right now.”

A scoff escapes your lips, “Seriously?” You slowly pry your eyelids open only to see nothing. You peer around the tree—both sides. Nothing at all?

What? Where was Taehyun?

“Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, “Oh you guests always seem to forget to look up.” Your head instantaneously snaps up and you see him lounging in the tree that you were just leaning against. Holy shit! How long was he there for!?

“Since you decided to quit running, sweet thing,” he grins. His hand trails down the bark, nails digging into it, as he gives you a seductive smile, “I really, really like you, you know. You aren’t like the others. Most would have used this chance to try and pitifully escape or run back out of the woods back into Wonderland. But you…”

Taehyun slowly cranes his head, his smile widening into his terrifying grin and wide eyes, “…you didn’t run away, attempt to find your way out. You actually indulged me. You stayed put.” You remain silent.

It didn’t even register in your mind that you could run out of the woods, even if you couldn’t escape Wonderland, you could at least escape the woods and his grasp. So why…?

A giggle escapes his lips, “Perhaps I underestimated you. Maybe you’ve already lost your mind. Mm…or maybe you’re a little twisted, nothing wrong with that,” he begins clambering down, “Nothing wrong with enjoying a little pain, a little hunt—enjoying your sanity shattering.”

Within milliseconds, Taehyun stands right in front of you making you shriek as he grabs you by the throat, twisting you around and slamming you against the bark of the tree, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

A chuckle—half malice, half amusement emits from his lips as he peers down at you. Your lips part, eyes widening egregiously, his fingers squeezing a little tighter around your neck. Stammering, you say, “I-I-I don’t get it- what- why-“

“Because it’s fun,” he muses nonchalantly. “Have I mentioned how lovely your neck feels in my hand?”This sadistic piece of shit! He squeezes harder with a darker gaze, “Ah, ah, such a crude insult, insulting me like that, pretty thing? What have I said?”

Your gaze meets his, his face inches from yours. Your heart palpitates recklessly; shaky and strained breaths leave your lips. Such a piercing gaze, almost as if he were searching through your very soul. Your eyes flit over his face in partial wonder, how could someone so pretty be so deranged?

“It is quite the conundrum, hm?” Damn him and his unlimited access to your psyche!

A mocking hum leaves him as he tilts his head closer, “So you think I’m pretty, hm? My, you have quite the twisted taste. Most are terrified. Is it my smile?” His grip loosens on your neck momentarily allowing your shoulders to slouch in relief.

“Your smile…uh- I don’t think-“ you carefully structure your next words, “…it’s uhm, unique. Special.” He snickers, “Is it now? How cute. Nice white lie.” Taehyun seems to smile down at you, not a terrifying one, but ordinary. A smile carrying amusement, a touch of condescension.

Taehyun leans in even closer, “Mm…I’ve caught you. What should I do with you?”

Briefly, your eyes flit to his rosy lush lips as he speaks the words coyly. Focus. What was wrong with you?

“It’s okay,” he breathes out. “It's not like I haven't had fun with my guests before. In fact, looking at you…” his eyes take in your face and move downward, “I’d say it’d be an excellent use of time, driving you insane with my caress, having you see stars, spasm and come undone with my mouth and touch.” Would you like that? After all…you rather suck at tag. Maybe you’ll be better at this.”

You were sure if it weren’t for this abhorrent place, he’d make a great siren with how seductive he could get. Your knees feel weak and you close your eyes. No…no, he was stopping you from your one and only goal.

The Cheshire Cat was the only being in Wonderland who had such knowledge. Knowledge of the outside world. He had to know the exit. How to leave. Focus Y/n!

Taehyun’s low voice purrs out, “The exit…huh?” A smile coveting pleasure and secrets plasters on his lips. You whisper, quivering from his proximity, “Yes,” you inhale, “…the exit. I want to return to the real world,” your voice cracks, “Please.”

Taehyun’s hand grips your jaw as he coos, shaking your head slightly, “Aw, how adorable. Asking so nicely.” It takes all your strength not to lose your patience at his taunting and condescension. “Mm, so that’s why you’ve chosen to come to my woods and didn’t follow the hundreds of conveniently placed exit arrows and decided to risk everything by trespassing here, hm?” He muses.

“Why? Don’t believe those arrows?” Taehyun grins. You scoff softly, “As if it would be that easy.” He hums, “Mm, sometimes it really is you know. This place is just unpredictable. But in this case, you were right, those arrows lead to a lovely little hole, just waiting for an unsuspecting guest to waltz in and fall to their eternal descent.” Your heart drops, surely not? He was joking right?

‘Oh I’m not, sweet thing, believe me, it’s quite the place. Consider it the junk yard of Wonderland.’ His voice rings out in your mind.

Confusion batters your mind. You came into these woods only to get even more lost. Now that you were in his grasp, was it even possible to leave these woods and flee?

Taehyun’s grin widens, “I wondered when you’d realize that the exit isn’t so easy to find. You’re lost, aren’t you? So lost that you don’t even know which way to go anymore,” a malicious laugh escapes him.

You cry out fisting the fabric of his shirt in desperation, your mind couldn’t take this any further, “Please, Taehyun, please. I’ve had enough, you’re the only one in this place who knows the exit, knows of the real world. Surely you’ll indulge me? You’ve already let one person out of here right?”

He purrs, “Well, yes Alice was rather special, just like you actually. That’s why I adore you so much- just as witty, just as smart, if not more so, and very pretty,” he sighs frowning, “Oh, but she is now very old, quite elderly, truly a sad fact about the real world. You truly wish to return to the land of feeble mortality?”

You nod fervently, pleading, “Yes, yes I do! Just please show me how to leave!” Taehyun cocks his head, seeming to almost consider the request. A dramatic sigh leaves his lips, “Oh, how you guests are always the same, not even one person wishes to stay here.”

Goodness, who would? You just needed to leave no matter what, return to your meager and peaceful life!

Taehyun steps back but remains in front of you, ensuring you won’t just slip by. He says, “Oh, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re too eager to leave.” You stiffen, brows furrowing befuddled.

He resumes with a huff, “You’re so focused on escaping that you’ve stopped seeing what’s right in front of you. The exit isn’t some place that you can just walk into,” he spreads his arms wide as if to emphasise his point.

The fuck? You feel as though your head is going to implode. You didn’t need more riddles or philosophy! Impatiently, you snap, “I don’t care about your riddles! I just need to get out.”

He flicks his hand dismissively; his lips twitching to form another grin, “Oh, but you see, you’ve already found the way out. By engaging with me.” What? What on earth was he spouting?

Blinking, you go to speak but he cuts you off before you can even begin. “The exit is closer than you think. All you have to do is step through,” he gestures to the left of him with a sweep of his arm.

Your eyes widen in shock. Through the mist and amongst the dark trees just up ahead, you see a white glowing doorway bathed in a soft, inviting light. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavy on your limbs and you stare at it in sheer disbelief.

It seems so simple. Too simple.

You snap your head back to him and deadpan, “That’s it? So…that’s the exit?” Your tone is filled with uncertainty but you were genuinely drawn toward the door.

The Cheshire Cat answers, “Yes.” His voice drips with mischief, “It’s right there. All you have to do is go through. No more games. No more riddles. It’s your choice. The door is waiting.”

Your desire to leave Wonderland is overwhelming despite the odd tension in the air. You find your feet seemingly twist and begin stepping slowly toward the door, each step heavier than the next. You are entranced by the ethereal light it emits.

As you reach the threshold of the door, you outstretch your arm, and it seems to faze through the blank space, the space is comforting, like a hug, a warm blanket even. Your fingers wriggle on the other side, a soft breeze brushes past your fingers tempting you further. This…was your escape. Right? Why were you so inexplicably drawn to this door?

You move even closer, the light illuminating your features. Interrupting your moment of tranquility and bliss, Taehyun calls out, “Wait... don’t you want to know what’s on the other side?”

Immediately, you stop in your tracks turning back to him. Wait- what the fuck has gotten into you? Were you just about to carelessly walk into that doorway? Believing the Cheshire Cat of all people?

You stammer, shaking your head to clear your head, “What do you mean? Isn’t the exit the real world? Isn’t that where I’ll be free?” A shudder runs through you as you see Taehyun’s eyes flash with something darker now.

“You think the real world is your escape, do you? Ah, how naive. You see, the problem is that you don’t know what’s real anymore. What if this doorway is just another illusion? A trick, just like everything else in Wonderland?” He utters, voice devoid of any humour or mischief.

His words hang dangerously in the air and you feel your eyes water, you were so desperate. “But I’m so close. I need to leave,” you beg brokenly.

Taehyun raises his hand, with a flick of his wrist, the world around you warps and bends. The trees twist and wane unnaturally, the dark colours begin bleeding together and the mist thickens.

“And yet, here we are, standing at the threshold of the unknown. Tell me, pretty thing—how do you know that’s the right door? How do you know the world you’re so desperate to return to is any better than this one?”

You recoil at his words, any semblance of confidence, or resolute goal you had was in tatters. The forest around you seems to shimmer and shift - the world itself seeming unstable. Was it the world, or was it you? You couldn’t tell anymore.

As you stand frozen, drowning in your whirling doubts, you see Taehyun’s serious expression morph into a wide and sly grin. With a snap of his fingers, another doorway appears beside the first.

However, this one it’s darker, more ominous— glowing with an eerie, crimson light.

“Here’s another exit,” Taehyun gestures to it, “This one leads to another reality. Perhaps the world you’re so desperate to escape isn’t the ‘real’ one after all. What if there’s another reality waiting for you? One where you can have everything you desire. This one is a much safer choice, isn’t it?”

You peer back and forth between the two doors. Overwhelmed, you ask, “But which one is the real exit?”

“How do you know?” He questions, voice barely above a whisper as grins wider. “How do you know what’s real? Every path, every exit in Wonderland feels real. The problem isn’t about choosing. The problem is that you can never be sure. You think you can escape, but you can’t even trust the world around you.”

You clutch your head, shutting your eyes. Your mind is frazzled, your heartbeat seems louder. You were definitely going insane or had you died and ended up in some sickening version of hell? You simultaneously felt like you wanted to scream and weep. Why was everything so difficult? Why didn’t you know what to do anymore?

You stand almost paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, the wrong decision. You were torn between the two doors. The longer you seem to regard the two doors, the more they seem to shift and blur, as if neither one is truly stable.

The leaf and twigs crunch and snap under Taehyun’s feet as he walks towards you, “You cannot trust me, you cannot trust anything in this place. But you can trust yourself. Can’t you?” His voice is mocking, twisted but serious.

“The only thing that is real is you and your choice to move. Because, in the end, the only thing that makes a door an exit is your decision to walk through it,” he finishes off coming to stand beside you.

For a long moment, you both stand in silence. Taehyun stares at you, his sharp eyes fixed on you, glimmering with intrigue, a sadistic delight, curiosity even. You continue to gaze at the two doors, processing his words as they ring out over and over again.

The unmelted remainder of your brain chugs and whirrs pathetically as you once again go over his words. There had to be something, anything to bypass this endless torture of uncertainty. That’s when your brain clicks.

Your eyes widen; a shaky breath resounds from you, these two doors were a trap. These shifting illusions were never meant to guide you out of here. These were here to make a point.

The point being, is choosing to embrace the unknown. Not needing to know the answers. The answer was what was holding you back, keeping you trained to this exact spot in hopeless despair. You had to choose.

The Cheshire Cat chuckles, “My, my sweet thing, you look like a mighty epiphany has been had.” Indeed you did! Taking a deep breath, uncertainty swirls around you but you suddenly feel something shift in the air. You meet his gaze, something had shifted within him too. The way he’s looking at you almost…proudly.

Without a single word, you step toward the door that calls to you the most, that you resonate with. Not because you felt comfortable, no—you had no fucking clue what was on the other side of either door. But you were just going for it. Standing here in insanity inducing contemplation wasn’t worth it.

In other words: fuck it.

As you take the first step toward the door, the world around you begins to unravel. You peer over your shoulder as you hear loud laughter echo. There he was, laughing, throwing his head back, grin as wide as ever. Taehyun runs a hand through his black locks with a twistedly exhilarated expression.

Both of you lock eyes as he steps forward, taking your hands with a manic gaze and wide beaming grin, he brings them up to his lips, a kiss on the back of both hands— enough to make your heart flutter impossibly so.

“Ah, finally. You’ve learned the delightful truth, sweet thing. There is no certainty, no guarantee. There’s only choice, and the courage to take the first step,” he coos, thumb running over the back of your hand, “I have decided to consider your plea, your freedom. You’ve thoroughly impressed me.”

Taehyun leans down, “You’ve certainly entertained me, another person who I’ll never, ever forget.” His hand cups your cheek, before his thumb trails down to tug at your lower lip making your breath hitch.

“Oh how special you are…” he breathes. You look up at him in realisation. As insane, as sadistic and twisted as he was, he truly was the wisest in Wonderland. A being who surpassed comprehension, someone- or something, that no one in their right mind could ever figure out.

All you had to do was last his game- a game in which the very fabric of your mind and psyche would be stretched to their limits. Then, and only then when the Cheshire Cat was thoroughly pleased, would he grant your wish. Guide you to the exit you so desperately seek.

His lips are inches from your, tension between you taut, imposing, some filthy, dark twisted part of you wanted to tiptoe up and press your lips to his. Why? You don’t really know why.

An alluring smile appears on his visage, temptingly leaning down just a little further, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His other hand grasps yours, intertwining your fingers with his as he squeezes.

Taehyun whispers, “Sweet thing, how you tempt me so, I almost want to snatch you up and keep you here forever,” you stiffen and he muses, “But…that would not be fair, I am not so cruel to keep you here after making you lose your mind.” His gaze flits down to your lips, “Mm, but perhaps you could soothe my aching heart…with a goodbye kiss?”

This truly did feel like a goodbye. Throwing any decorum, any ounce of sanity or dignity out the window, you tiptoe up pressing your lips to his. He tilts his head, lips parting welcoming yours with a pleasant hum. Oh how good it felt, you hated yet loved it. It made you feel sinful but how you so craved it, something about him just made you want to…give yourself entirely.

His lips move against yours deliciously, enticingly before parting with a satisfied smirk and he whispers alluringly, breath hitting your face, “Sweet thing, do you promise to never forget me?”

Forget him? God, he’d be the last person you’d forget. You’d be surprised if you didn’t see him in your dreams (or nightmares), after all this.

Taehyun tilts your head up slightly, “Hm?” You shake your head with a breathless laugh, as you step back prying his hands off you, “I promise I won’t. Definitely not for a while anyway.”

“Not for a while, huh? Oh, I think it’ll be a lot longer,” he muses, raising his hand into a wave. “Now get going, weren’t you so pitifully desperate to get back to that awfully boring place you call home?”

You hear a click of a door opening and you gasp seeing the door you chose open up. The familiar trees of the park, the skyline of buildings, the sky. Home! You step forward, stepping into the threshold and feel the Dark Woods fade behind them. The weight of doubt and indecision lift from your shoulders.

It was about deciding to move—trusting yourself enough to take a step without knowing for sure what lies ahead. The real world isn’t perfect either, and it may not be as certain or clear-cut as you once believed, but you’re free because you are no longer waiting for the ‘right’ door to appear.

With that, your vision becomes pure and vivid white, blinding you with its brightness as you feel almost weightless. Finally, your consciousness fails you as you seem to let your body fall into nothingness.

Soon, a gentle breeze brushes across your cheeks and hair. You feel something soft, something crunching under your head. The scent of grass, a touch of street food, (perhaps a hot dog, or was it pizza?), dust and traffic and vehicle horns resound out as your consciousness slowly comes back.

A buzzing and murmuring infiltrates your ears. It felt as though…there was someone talking. No- a lot of people actually. The murmur of a crowd. All around you.

With a final push, you pry your eyelids open and sit up with a large gasp. A few yelps and a cacophony of muttering, whispering and gasp resound from around you. You squint as the daylight burns your eyes and you raise your hand to block out the ray of sun.

‘What happened to them?’ ‘Is she okay?’ ‘Why were they just passed out on the grass like that?’ All questions that seem to hover around you adding to your confusion and disoriented state. It had seemed in this world only a matter of a few minutes had passed.

You just looked like you had fainted, passed out even. A twinge of embarrassment fills you for a moment. Then you peer down seeing the horrendous black and red envelope that you seemed to be clutching tightly with trembling hands.

With a piercing scream, you toss the envelope away startling the small crowd that’s seemed to form around you. The invite daintily flaps and dances around against the ground being strung by the strings of the wind. God forbid, you ever accidentally enter such a world again.

Never were you picking up random shit on the road after this.

The people around you whisper and murmur whilst you groan clutching your head. Oh you must look crazy right now…

Seems about right, no one has the damn courtesy to help you up! Your body feels heavy, exhausted and fatigued with limbs shaking.

With a painful grunt, you bring yourself to your knees and place your hands onto the floor to steady yourself before you get up. The last thing you wanted was to stand up only for your legs to give out on you.

As you go to stand, you spot a pair of sneakers walking toward you, and you crane your head up to see who is walking towards you. Huh? Purple laces?

You stiffen seeing the person’s hand outstretched. You feel the entire world shift on its axis as any remaining breath promptly leaves your body at the abysmal sight.

“Grab my hand, I’ll help you up. These inconsiderate losers can’t be bothered to help you up? Can they?” His voice muses quietly as he doesn’t wait for you to take his hand, in fact, he wraps his hand around yours and tugs you up. You stumble into him wide eyed and speechless.

The crowd begins to disperse rapidly as you’re standing up and you have to make sure you are still in the real world as you frantically look around.

How the fuck? Since when was this possible?

“Since now,” he finishes off for you clutching both your hands. You tilt your head up to meet his dark gaze, “After all, you promised you wouldn’t forget me, didn’t you?”

Fuck.

“I-I- how- but that doesn't explain- how are you here in the real world?” You splutter and stammer.

You feel a tap on your shoulder seeing an elderly woman, “Dear, are you okay? Seems like you must have taken quite the fall, and understandably so, you must be rather disoriented but,” the woman uncomfortably peers in front of you, “But… are you in the habit of talking to yourself, or is it just rambling?”

What? Yourself? But- you gaze back over seeing Taehyun gazing at the woman who just spoke to you. He grins widely, clutching your hands tighter. “Go on, don’t keep the nice lady waiting.”

Your blood runs icily cold. No way.

“So, I’m sorry to ask, I’m just so confused at the moment, did I get up myself?” You question timidly. The lady seems to fidget awkwardly, “Uhm, yes? Yes dear, you did. Quite surprising, you got up so smoothly, after such an event. Do you need any medical treatment? I know a clinic nearby-“

No you didn’t. Taehyun helped you up. You spin back around with a scream as you fist his shirt, “You followed me out here? She can’t see you? She can’t see you? Only I can? How the fuck is that possible?”

The woman seems frightened by your outburst and steps back, “Uhm- alright dear, I- I best be going, just rest for a bit-“ she seems to back away, rushing off.

A cackle escapes Taehyun’s lips as he covers his hands over yours, grin frighteningly wide as he towers over you, “How? How, you ask?” One hand raises and his index finger trails up the bridge of your nose and rests right in the middle of your forehead.

With a delightedly mischievous chuckle, he whispers, “Because of this,” his finger presses into your forehead. “This wonderful mind of yours. Now, you’ll always have someone to talk to, isn’t that lovely? You should be honoured, Alice has got the same present. Not to worry, I can be in two places at once, three, four. Everywhere. All at once.”

Taehyun cups your cheek once more with a twisted adoration, “So don’t worry, you won’t have to keep those wondrous memories of yours, just that, memories. We can keep them alive, even in this world. Isn’t that nice? Your life won’t be so boring anymore.”

As the words hang in the air, you fall to your knees and let the most soul shattering scream you’ve ever released in your existence.

Oh, did you really think you escaped? Did you really think that pesky little invite would be harmless?

No, no, that invite was the gateway to madness. There was no way you’d come out of that world with any sanity left intact.

After all, that would be preposterous wouldn’t it?

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