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emphistic · 2 months ago

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MEDDLE ABOUT

SYN. Being co-stars with your ex-boyfriend of three months is basically hell; or at least, that's what you think. AKA: Sukuna wants you back, whether he's acting or not.

TAGS. actor AU, fem!Reader, mean!Sukuna, exes to lovers, forced proximity, sharing a cigarette, smoking, arguing, eventual smut, Sukuna likes to shut you up with his dick, cockwarming, answering the phone during séx, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, porn w/o plot, use of pet names: baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, my dear (mockingly)

WC. 5.4k (please read anyway 😞)

AN. requested by anon (you didn't specify any genre, so i just freestyled 🤷‍♀️), animated dividers by @/cafekitsune; i'm a sucker for actor AUs; available on ao3; MDNI

“I know you wanna kiss me,” you smiled, leaning closer to Sukuna’s face. Your noses were barely apart, and you couldn’t tell where his breath ended, and where yours started. To be honest, this was far more intimate than any other kiss scene you ever had to film.

“Yeah?” Sukuna grinned, getting equally as close. “And what’re you going to do about that, pretty girl?”

“. . .Fucking slap you, that’s what.”

“CUT!” The director yelled, groaning in exasperation. “C’mon, people. I know it’s been a long day, but put your differences aside for the sake of one movie, will ya? When you receive your paycheck, you’ll regret all of this ‘huffing and puffing’ you two are both doing right now.”

You exhaled, pulling away from Sukuna. It’s not that you couldn’t remember your correct lines, it’s just. . . You couldn’t take it anymore. Being in the same room as him, breathing in the same air as him, starring in the same movie with him. Fuck, you hated this.

You and Sukuna had broken up exactly three months ago despite having what seemed like a pretty healthy relationship. Seemed is the key word.

Of course, you two had your ups and downs, like an ordinary couple, but what differentiated you two from a normal couple was the fact that you guys both juggled busy careers as an actor and actress. Being booked with interviews, PR stunts, and in general, movies, you and Sukuna didn’t have the ability to spend much time together. And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was constantly a multitude of women on his arm during movie premieres. Yeah, you knew those were all for PR, but still, it hurt to see your boyfriend standing with a woman that wasn’t you every day.

At first, you thought you could take it. Being an actress yourself, you had your fair share of rumors and made up scandals. But it came to a point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You and Sukuna broke up, consequently, and fans immediately voiced their opinions and concerns, bombarding Twitter with trending tags, and posting videos on several apps. The internet had been obsessed with you guys as a couple since the first movie you two co-starred in—which was years ago—so their complaints definitely weren’t for naught.

Originally, you thought that your relationship with Sukuna would end on good terms, but boy, oh boy, were you wrong. Sukuna, just mere days after your breakup, was spotted by paparazzi walking around the city with his arm around a girl you definitely did not recognize as one of his current co-stars. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to hit you up and ask if he could come over to your penthouse right after.

Men, am I right?

You two may or may not have slept together as exes a few times after your inevitable argument about him and that new girl, but rest assured, you did eventually break things off permanently. Well, you thought you did. As if by fate, you and Sukuna were casted as co-stars in an up-and-coming romance movie that had your fans just dying in anticipation of finally being able to see their favorite (broken up) couple together on screen again.

To be frank, you were originally going to pass up the role as the female lead—seeing as your luck had landed you as co-stars with Sukuna—but your manager apparently really, really wanted you to work on the film, saying things like Think of how elated your fans will be and It’s an adaptation from a book that made millions and Just imagine all of the PR and promoting you could do. It took a while of convincing—and coercing—to get you to finally agree to the role since, after all, PR was the main reason for your and Sukuna’s breakup. But, honestly, you would be lying if you said there weren’t any feelings left for your ex-boyfriend, Sukuna.

“I think we should all take a breather,” Sukuna began, jeering, “before someone gets all hot and bothered by just being on the same set as me. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sukuna turned to you, an expression on his face that just made you want to punch him in the nose.

“‘Hot and bothered’, seriously? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sukuna tilted his head to the side, grinning. “Do you think I’m joking? I could feel the way your heart was racing earlier, when we had to shoot that hugging in the rain scene. Just admit it, this isn’t acting for you.”

He was definitely self-projecting, you scowled just by the thought of it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. We all know how you really feel,” Sukuna teased, leaning down to your eye-level. His breath fanned your reddening ear as he whispered, “You want me so bad it makes you look fucking stupid.”

And when he pulled away, Sukuna added one last remark, “I know it’s been a long three months for you. Say, how’s that blondie treating you, hm? I bet his dick is as small as his future in acting.”

“Ryomen, just stop.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that with him, and you know that. Just leave me alone.”

You shoved at his chest as you walked off set, your assistants following you promptly with water bottles and towels.

In all honesty, you remembered it like it happened yesterday. Before you and Sukuna became boyfriend and girlfriend, your first meeting was in a movie that you both starred in as the female and male lead. It was a romance movie, of course, that was about a couple meeting on an island while both on individual vacations. You two spent most of your days on set in swimsuits and bikinis, consuming fake alcoholic beverages, and, consequently, sleeping together—after the tension just grew unbearable.

On and off camera, Sukuna had been growing an attraction towards you. I mean, who could blame him? You two had to be near each other while being basically half-naked. And, if your pretty face wasn’t enough to beguile Sukuna, your ass definitely was. From the moment he shook hands with you at your first meeting as co-stars, he knew he had to have you—acting or not.

That movie was the start of the skyrocketing of both your and Sukuna’s career in acting. Fans quickly noted how much chemistry the two of you had together, and how well you two could act out emotions and intimate scenes. What the audience didn’t know, though, was that you and Sukuna had started seeing each other a few weeks after shooting together.

Sukuna had invited over the whole cast and team for drinks after a successful movie premiere, and you two ended up talking and conversing in his kitchen whilst a little under the influence. You two hit it off, and learned that being an aspiring actor wasn’t the only thing you two had in common. One glass turned into two, and two turned into stumbling into Sukuna’s bedroom after everyone had responsibly ordered a cab home.

Waking up the morning after, and deciding it wasn’t just going to be a one night stand, you and Sukuna thus began your new relationship. At first, you two avoided being spotted in public together, but it came to a point where your relationship just couldn’t be hidden anymore and you both decided to go public. The internet responded almost immediately with cheers, enthusiasm, and occasionally, expressions showing how un-surprised they were. I mean, you two had been shipped together almost constantly; making it official was almost expected.

Years passed, the honeymoon stage was over, your careers were more demanding and busy than they had ever been, and, well, you know the rest.

—

“Fancy seeing you here.”

A grimace immediately made its way onto your face at the sound of Sukuna’s voice calling out to you from behind.

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, turning to face Sukuna as he sat down beside you and slung an arm around the back of the couch, “I was hoping the next time I saw you would be at your funeral.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” chided Sukuna, as he brought out a cigarette and lit it.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the couch. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sukuna leaned his face closer to yours, his eyes running down your face and naturally drifting to your lips.

“Unless you’re being your usual asshole-self, and here to annoy me in my dressing room, I’m afraid not.”

After you stormed off set, the director decided it was best to just call it a day and continue filming tomorrow. You went outside for a bit to get some fresh air, before deciding to return to your dressing room and get unready. Stripping down and putting on nothing but your robe, you had sat yourself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, planning on spending a few minutes relaxing before making your way home. Sukuna barging in, despite being off the clock, was something you definitely weren’t expecting. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and if someone found out. . .

“You’ll be in a lot of trouble if my makeup artist comes in here and sees you,” you commented. “Go smoke somewhere else.”

At this, Sukuna’s eyes flickered up to your own, and he removed the cigarette from his lips before blowing out the smoke right in front of your face. Your nose scrunched up, as if on instinct, and Sukuna booped your nose with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I swear,” you began, snatching the cigarette out of Sukuna’s hands, “if I don’t kill you, I hope these will.” Now was your turn to put the cigarette between your lips. You inhaled, and took a deep breath. But, only moments after, the cigarette was out of your hands and abruptly stubbed on a nearby ashtray.

Sukuna looked at you with an intent look on his face. “As much as I find that hot, I’d rather I be the one damaging my lungs. Not you.”

“Looking out for little old me? How cute,” you smiled, your tone sarcastic. “I see you’re not over us, yet, hm? Did that new girl change your mind?”

You leaned closer to Sukuna, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly.

As soon as you mentioned that other chick, Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It was nothing, we didn’t even hold hands. C’mon, all we did was sit next to each other at a party, and now you’re on my ass about her?”

You shrugged, picking up the magazine you had previously discarded and flipping through the pages with faux interest. “Oh, really? Didn’t look that way to me. You two sure seemed buddy-buddy.”

“Like hell we did. Fuck, do you want me to bring up that twig you were with last week? Kid’s got no meat on his arms. Can’t even call him a man. Is that seriously how low you’re willing to go, babe?” Sukuna scoffed at your lack of attention to him. “Shit’s even worse than a downgrade.”

“You can think that all you want. But I definitely disagree.” You struggled to stifle a giggle.

Sukuna, furrowing his brows, narrowed his eyes at you. “The fuck do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you’ve seen his dick.”

“I dunno, have I?” You turned to Sukuna, meeting his gaze with an equal amount of irritation.

“Must’ve been pretty small, though, if you can’t even remember it,” Sukuna pressed, leaning closer to you, your noses touching, before pulling away. “Whatever, this is boring. Say, how about we get back to where we left off, and practice that kissing scene, hm? I think it’s a great idea.”

“Ryomen, let’s not. You know we’re done. Been done. We’re through.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, is it not obvious? I think it was pretty obvious when you had the nerve to get with a new girl just days after we broke up. And then you have the balls to call me right after the paparazzi catches you two. Really, Sukuna? I don’t mind the idea of us ending on neutral terms, but . . . 48 hours? Two days after we broke up, and you’re already fucking some girl? Way to go, Sukuna.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, baby. We didn’t even kiss, did you see any pictures of us kissing? No. And, besides, it’s called provocation. Honestly, you should be praising me, because it worked in the end, didn’t it? I came ‘crawling back’ like one of your little bitch boys, and what happened? Oh, I remember; you let me right the fuck in to your apartment.”

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t deny Sukuna. He was right. And, just the mere thought of what you two did after he hit you up brought heat to your cheeks.

The very same night after pictures of Sukuna and that new girl started circulating around the internet, Sukuna decided to text you:

hey pretty girl,

you up?

You were drying yourself off with a towel when you received two notifications on your phone, and when you saw the contact name, you frowned and turned off your phone without giving a response. Minutes after, there was a ring on your doorbell, and when you checked the camera, lo and behold, stood none other than the last pink-haired man you wanted to see that evening.

When you opened the door, wearing nothing other than a towel around your still dripping body, Sukuna couldn’t help but shamelessly check you out, deciding then and there that this definitely wasn’t going to be the end of your relationship. Of course, an argument ensued soon after, because that’s what life was like dating a dick like Sukuna. Luckily for you, however, Sukuna’s bulge in his pants was bigger than his ego, and so it made up for all of the playful bullying and teasing remarks that he frequently gave.

Sukuna—because he wasn’t born yesterday—knew his looks and charms fairly well, and often used them as a weapon or bargaining chip. That’s why, after you spent a minute or two berating and yelling at Sukuna near your front door, it only took the man one look into your eyes and one sultry comment to have you both stumbling into the . . . bedroom? No, you two had been apart for two days too long, and just decided to utilize your expensive kitchen counters for purposes completely unrelated to cooking.

The next morning, you two woke up—after getting just half an hour of sleep—and didn’t untangle from each other’s limbs until your manager called you nearly a hundred times, and forced you to get up and attend some interview or something. That, however, was not your last night with Sukuna. You two met up—intentionally or not—within the same week, whether it be at interviews or just random outings, and meddled with the other until one of you would fold (usually Sukuna) and consequently do something you would end up not fully regretting the next morning.

This affair continued until you finally came to your senses and blocked Sukuna out from your life in all ways possible. But, due to his bank account, Sukuna did end up purchasing multiple different phones just to be able to contact you. You may or may not have given in a few times, but in the end, you did end up leaving Sukuna for good.

“Reminiscing, are you? It’s okay, I’ve been doing that every night since you left the penthouse,” Sukuna laughed, noticing the way you went silent. You hated the way he referred to his place as The penthouse, and not, simply, his penthouse because, to be frank, for the years you both spent as a couple, you practically lived together despite having individual residences.

“What the hell, Sukuna. Just—Why are you even—?”

Sukuna cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I find it pretty hard to believe that not a single part of you misses me. Don’t lie; lying is a sin, y’know.”

“Sukuna—Excuse me? Don’t give me that shit. ‘Lying is a sin’ my ass. You must have to ask for God’s forgiveness pretty often, then. I can’t believe you want to call me a sinner, I mean, just—just look at you! You’re no saint, either, and you know that damn well.”

Sukuna raised his hands in defense, humoring you. “Woah, looks like I’ve been caught,” he laughed, before getting a little more serious. “But, don’t try to avoid the fact that you’re not innocent. Okay, we broke up due to not being able to make time for each other, and because of how much women I had to be around. Yeah, I get that. But it’s not like I was the only one taking up PR stunts. You did the same, too, didn’t you? So don’t try and paint me out to be the bad guy, when, at the end of the day, we did the same fucking thing.”

Irritated, you pinched the space between your brows. “I barely have any energy to say something to your stupid face right now. We broke up because of that, but also because of how much of a fucking dick you were and are. I knew you weren’t a total angel when we got together but—”

“Look. Do you want a nice guy?”

“. . .”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, baby. We all know how you really feel.”

“Go. to. Hell. Sukuna. Seriously. This? Again? Do you even know how much of an ass you are? I should deserve an award for putting up with your shit for so long, God—”

“Yeahh, just keep talking,” said Sukuna in a teasing manner, as he leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs apart. You had never wanted to sit somewhere so bad.

“Are you fucking kidding me—mmph!”

You would’ve continued yelling and cursing Sukuna out for being such a dick had he not roughly pressed his lips against yours, immediately shutting you up. Because you still had some self-respect left, you fought back, throwing weak punches at his chest; but when Sukuna caught your wrists in his hands, you knew it was game over. Your muffled complaints soon turned to whimpers and sighs, as you shut your eyes and let your body do the talking.

Minute after minute, you gradually turned to putty in Sukuna’s hands. Fuck, as much as you hated to admit it, you had truly missed this. The feeling of his large, coarse hands roaming your body, tracing your curves, the feeling of his soft, but unruly hair under your fingertips, but most importantly, the feeling of his lips on yours.

At this point, you couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up.

“Sukuna,” you murmured, pulling away for a moment to breathe. “We’re not together anymore. We shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t?” repeated Sukuna, eager to get back to where you left off. “Are you in a relationship with someone else? Am I in a relationship with someone else? No, and no. So enlighten me, my dear, why should we stop?”

“. . .” It was like he was challenging you, except, this time, it was a battle you could afford to lose. You wanted Sukuna, you really did. But admitting it was the hard part. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating every outcome, as Sukuna continued to stare at you with so much desire you could practically feel it.

“Are you hesitating because,” Sukuna paused, “—because you fucked someone else while I was gone?”

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat; you had never been more conflicted in your life. Placing your hands on Sukuna’s shoulders, you pushed back until Sukuna was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on top of him—seated on his lap. As if on instinct, his hands made their way from your hips to the curve of your ass.

Sukuna gripped the globes of fat and muscle with a purpose, and let out an exaggerated groan at the missed feeling of you practically sitting on his dick. You were wearing nothing but a dainty, silky robe, and you clearly didn’t cross it over your chest too well, as Sukuna could see almost everything he had been missing out on during the past few months.

“Don’t even think about lying to me. I can feel you throbbing on my thigh, y’know.”

“. . .And?” You raised a brow; whispering in Sukuna’s ear, “What about it?”

Biting your lip, you let your hands wander up and down Sukuna’s neck, the spot you knew he liked you touching. When you broke things off with Sukuna, you didn’t know you could miss being able to trace his tattoos as bad as you did.

“Oh?” asked Sukuna. But when his fingers wandered up your robe, there was a sudden change in Sukuna’s demeanor, and he sucked in a breath.

“Adorable,” you laughed. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shit, baby,” Sukuna groaned, “I bet you were expecting me to come and visit your little dressing room, huh. Even planned ahead and gave me a little surprise. Cheeky thing.”

Just seconds earlier, Sukuna’s fingers had been teasingly ghosting where you wanted him most, but when he noticed the lack of underwear you had on, he nearly lost it. You clearly weren’t making it easy for Sukuna to stay composed, he was sure of that much. Despite all of his belittling and teasing remarks, he definitely wasn’t as unaffected as he let himself seem to be.

“We’ve just been apart for so, so long.” You looked into Sukuna’s eyes, a faux pout on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your tits up against his chest. “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck, girl,” Sukuna kissed his teeth. “You’re dripping wet. All for me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

Sukuna’s fingers danced around your entrance, collecting your slick as you pressed your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs (not like he was complaining, though; that was probably the closest to Heaven Sukuna would ever get in his lifetime). “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.”

It wasn’t a surprise when you pressed your lips against Sukuna’s, bringing him in for another zealous kiss. In an effort to get impossibly closer, your body curved into his, like you were puzzle pieces molded and created just for each other. You two moved in sync, as if you had both rehearsed this before; but, in truth, you two had just made out too many times to count, so kissing Sukuna was basically like breathing air. You needed it to survive, and, it was light work. What more could you say?

The tension and lust between you two grew, and your dressing room soon filled with the sound of sensual desire, moans and quiet gasps, and the creaking of the framework of your unfortunate couch, which had the misfortune of being beneath the two of you.

From the moment you had begun straddling his lap, you had pretended not to notice the growing erection below you; but, by now, it was pretty hard to ignore the bulge pressing against your ass. It was like, during the months you two spent apart, Sukuna’s dick was growing even larger than before. You didn’t remember it being so big. And, just the sight of it was enough to make you lick your lips in fear? Anticipation? . . .Definitely a mix of both.

As Sukuna made a show of removing his belt and pants, he grinned at the evident look of unfamiliarity on your face. “Scared?”

“Of course not,” you quipped, trying to put up a front, but your body betrayed you, displaying otherwise.

“Naturally,” Sukuna mocked, “that’s why I can practically feel your arousal, right?”

You bit your lip, “Shut up.”

Sukuna laughed, pushing the ends of your robe up to rest on your hips, and sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing each cheek with an equal amount of force. Damn, thought Sukuna, he had missed his favorite girls.

“Just because we haven’t done this in a while doesn’t mean you have to be afraid of it. C’mon,” Sukuna slowly repositioned and lowered your hips and spread your legs apart, easing his dick through your cunt, “there’s nothing to be shy about. I know you’ve been missing this.”

It was true, you and Sukuna hadn’t fucked in three whole months, and your body was definitely starting to forget how he felt. The feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s length and size burned pleasurably, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan, which, in turn, just came out as a whimper instead.

Bracing yourself, you planted both palms on Sukuna’s broad shoulders as your lashes fluttered and your eyes shut tight. “So—nngh—So big, Sukuna. God.”

“Bet you’re real glad you decided to accept this role, after all, huh.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glared at Sukuna. “Will you just shut—oh!”

Just as you were about to yell at Sukuna, he decided it was the absolute perfect time to give a rough thrust; and you could’ve sworn you felt him in your womb. Throughout all the years you two had been together, you rarely had the opportunity to actually sit on his dick, and, now that you had the chance, you realized how full you felt in this position compared to how you two usually fucked. Sukuna knew you liked it rough, but this . . . was like nothing you had experienced before.

Sukuna—laughing—leaned down just enough to whisper in your ear, “You were saying?”

“Fuck,” you gritted your teeth. “Just move, Sukuna, goddamnit. What’s the holdup? Don’t tell me the late twenties are catching up to your libido.”

“Ha! in your dreams. I was just thinking of a new way we could have fun. Let’s see, just how long can you go without moving, hm?”

You gulped. “W-What? Why would you—?”

“Because it’s exciting, and spices up things. Don’t you think so?”

“. . .”

As the minutes idly passed by, you grew hot and bothered, and exasperated. You couldn’t believe Sukuna was making you do this. Nearly ninety days you two spent apart, and now that you had gotten back together, he had the audacity to leave you high and dry? In a final attempt at getting any satisfaction, you moved to roll your hips, desperate to create any amount of friction to free you from this everlasting state between Heaven and Hell; but two rough hands abruptly caught you in motion, and swiftly held you down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” tutted Sukuna, in a mocking tone. “Did I say you could move?”

Clearly frustrated, you let out a whine; but as your hands move to give punches against Sukuna’s chest, he catches your wrists in his hands with ease, an evil smile on his face, like a predator that had successfully cornered their prey and was just seconds away from latching their teeth in.

The belt was already pretty loose, so when one of the sleeves on your robe slipped down your shoulder, revealing your bare chest, no one was that surprised.

“Oh?” Sukuna began. “What have we here?” His scarlet eyes roamed up and down your figure, as his grip on your wrists turned almost deathly.

“You . . . bastard,” you—suddenly feeling a bit shy—tried to tug your wrists out of his grasps, in order to cover yourself up, but your attempts were futile. “Let go of me—hnngh, shit.”

Your back arched, body curving closer to Sukuna’s as his lips abruptly wrapped around one of your already hard nipples, catching you off guard. You had never felt so overwhelmed; the feeling of Sukuna sucking on a tit while his dick was buried inside of you—unmoving—was nearly enough to make you cum, despite the lack of movement that Sukuna allowed.

Bringing you out of your dazed state was the sudden ringing of your phone on the table beside the ashtray. Your eyes widened in surprise, as you softly pushed Sukuna off of you. “Just—Just ignore it. It’s not important.”

“Right. But where’s the fun in that, huh?”

“You don’t mean. . .”

“You know what I mean. Answer it, on speaker,” Sukuna pressed. His tone told you he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

With shaky fingers, you reached for the phone, answered the caller, and put it on speaker. “H-Hello? Katayama?”

Katayama was the name of one of your co-stars. Or, in other words, the blonde dude, which Sukuna kept mentioning earlier.

“Hey, you! It’s pretty late right now, perfect time for us to go out and get some drinks, y’know? I’m a bit bored, as of lately.”

You were about to respond with an apologetic declination to his offer, but Sukuna cut you off as he roughly lifted up your hips and abruptly slammed them back down, causing you to choke back a moan, and cover it up with a faux series of coughs. “I’m, ah, a little . . . busy,” you whimpered, wincing at the tight grip on your hips—which was sure to leave a bruise in the morning, “right now.”

“Are you sick?”

“Uhm, no—I mean, yes!” You let out another fake cough just to seal the deal. “Yup, just a little under the weather.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a string of moans and curses as Sukuna continued slamming your hips up and down onto his.

“Well, if you’re ever in need of an extra warm blanket, don’t be afraid to—”

“Hahh.” A breathy moan slipped past your lips, and you could practically see the surprised look that was probably on Katayama’s face right now.

“—call . . . me. Uhm, are you sure you’re sick? You sound like you’re in the middle of . . . something. Is everything okay—?”

“Yup! Yeah, everything is totally okay,” you forced out, with an enthusiastic tone. Gripping Sukuna’s shoulder with your free hand for leverage, you shut your eyes tight as you quickly ended the call. “I’m a little occupied at the moment, I’ll call you ba—I’m gonna go. Bye!”

As swiftly as you hung up the call, you threw your phone across the couch, and let out all of the noises you had been previously bottling up.

“I’m so c-close.” You mewled, now even more desperate than you were before.

“If you dare cum,” Sukuna began, his voice low, “I’ll stop.”

“Sukuna!” You whined, scratching at his back and leaving little crescent shaped marks from your nails on his tricep. “I need to—ahnn!”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held onto Sukuna’s shoulders for dear life as he quickened his pace. Lifting your hips up with ease, and slamming them back down with equal force. Fucked out of your mind was not enough to describe your current state, as your eyes rolled back into your head, and your lipstick was smudged across your mouth.

Sukuna leaned down to whisper into your ear, never stopping his movements. “Bet the little blondie didn’t fuck you like this, huh?”

It was obvious that Sukuna wasn’t an insecure guy; I mean, he had no reason to be. He had nice muscles, a good body, overall, sharp features, tempting eyes, and tattoos for days. But, you had to admit, the spark of jealousy was definitely a good look on Sukuna, one that you wouldn’t mind seeing every once in a while, if it meant seeing him like . . . this.

“. . .S-Sukuna, we never—we never even fucked in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah? How long you been without cock, then, huh? Must be why you’ve been acting like such a bitch. I almost feel bad; all this time, my baby’s just been depraved.”

“. . .F-fuck you,” you shivered, body practically shaking with need.

“No need to state the obvious, sweetheart. Fuck, even your tears taste sweet,” Sukuna groaned, licking a stripe up your cheek. “It’s as if you were literally made for me to devour.”

“Please, please let me cum! I’m so—hnngh—close.”

“Yeah, no. C’mon, I know my girl can last just a little longer, can’t you?” Sukuna grinned, biting his lip as he admired your dazed state. He hadn’t been able to touch you in three months, ninety days, 504 hours. If anyone was going to get their fill, it was him.

—

“Oh!” Your stylist exclaimed, after walking into your dressing room and noticing you lying asleep on the couch. “You’re already here. And, Sukuna’s here, too. Wait. . . SUKUNA’S HERE, TOO!?”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x y/n #em writes ˎˊ˗

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months ago

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There’s no such thing as “shareholder supremacy”

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Here's a cheap trick: claim that your opponents' goals are so squishy and qualitative that no one will ever be able to say whether they've been succeeded or failed, and then declare that your goals can be evaluated using crisp, objective criteria.

This is the whole project of "economism," the idea that politics, with its emphasis on "fairness" and other intangibles, should be replaced with a mathematical form of economics, where every policy question can be reduced to an equation…and then "solved":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/28/imagine-a-horse/#perfectly-spherical-cows-of-uniform-density-on-a-frictionless-plane

Before the rise of economism, it was common to speak of its subjects as "political economy" or even "moral philosophy" (Adam Smith, the godfather of capitalism, considered himself a "moral philosopher"). "Political economy" implicitly recognizes that every policy has squishy, subjective, qualitative dimensions that don't readily boil down to math.

For example, if you're asking about whether people should have the "freedom" to enter into contracts, it might be useful to ask yourself how desperate your "free" subject might be, and whether the entity on the other side of that contract is very powerful. Otherwise you'll get "free contracts" like "I'll sell you my kidneys if you promise to evacuate my kid from the path of this wildfire."

The problem is that power is hard to represent faithfully in quantitative models. This may seem like a good reason to you to be skeptical of modeling, but for economism, it's a reason to pretend that the qualitative doesn't exist. The method is to incinerate those qualitative factors to produce a dubious quantitative residue and do math on that:

https://locusmag.com/2021/05/cory-doctorow-qualia/

Hence the famous Ely Devons quote: "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’"

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

The neoliberal revolution was a triumph for economism. Neoliberal theorists like Milton Friedman replaced "political economy" with "law and economics," the idea that we should turn every one of our complicated, nuanced, contingent qualitative goals into a crispy defined "objective" criteria. Friedman and his merry band of Chicago School economists replaced traditional antitrust (which sought to curtail the corrupting power of large corporations) with a theory called "consumer welfare" that used mathematics to decide which monopolies were "efficient" and therefore good (spoiler: monopolists who paid Friedman's pals to do this mathematical analysis always turned out to be running "efficient" monopolies):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/

One of Friedman's signal achievements was the theory of "shareholder supremacy." In 1970, the New York Times published Friedman's editorial "The Social Responsibility of Business Is to Increase Its Profits":

https://www.nytimes.com/1970/09/13/archives/a-friedman-doctrine-the-social-responsibility-of-business-is-to.html

In it, Friedman argued that corporate managers had exactly one job: to increase profits for shareholders. All other considerations – improving the community, making workers' lives better, donating to worthy causes or sponsoring a little league team – were out of bounds. Managers who wanted to improve the world should fund their causes out of their paychecks, not the corporate treasury.

Friedman cloaked his hymn to sociopathic greed in the mantle of objectivism. For capitalism to work, corporations have to solve the "principal-agent" problem, the notoriously thorny dilemma created when one person (the principal) asks another person (the agent) to act on their behalf, given the fact that the agent might find a way to line their own pockets at the principal's expense (for example, a restaurant server might get a bigger tip by offering to discount diners' meals).

Any company that is owned by stockholders and managed by a CEO and other top brass has a huge principal-agent problem, and yet, the limited liability, joint-stock company had produced untold riches, and was considered the ideal organization for "capital formation" by Friedman et al. In true economismist form, Friedman treated all the qualitative questions about the duty of a company as noise and edited them out of the equation, leaving behind a single, elegant formulation: "a manager is doing their job if they are trying to make as much money as possible for their shareholders."

Friedman's formulation was a hit. The business community ran wild with it. Investors mistook an editorial in the New York Times for an SEC rulemaking and sued corporate managers on the theory that they had a "fiduciary duty" to "maximize shareholder value" – and what's more, the courts bought it. Slowly and piecemeal at first, but bit by bit, the idea that rapacious greed was a legal obligation turned into an edifice of legal precedent. Business schools taught it, movies were made about it, and even critics absorbed the message, insisting that we needed to "repeal the law" that said that corporations had to elevate profit over all other consideration (not realizing that no such law existed).

It's easy to see why shareholder supremacy was so attractive for investors and their C-suite Renfields: it created a kind of moral crumple-zone. Whenever people got angry at you for being a greedy asshole, you could shrug and say, "My hands are tied: the law requires me to run the business this way – if you don't believe me, just ask my critics, who insist that we must get rid of this law!"

In a long feature for The American Prospect, Adam M Lowenstein tells the story of how shareholder supremacy eventually came into such wide disrepute that the business lobby felt that it had to do something about it:

https://prospect.org/power/2024-09-17-ponzi-scheme-of-promises/

It starts in 2018, when Jamie Dimon and Warren Buffett decried the short-term, quarterly thinking in corporate management as bad for business's long-term health. When Washington Post columnist Steve Pearlstein wrote a column agreeing with them and arguing that even moreso, businesses should think about equities other than shareholder returns, Jamie Dimon lost his shit and called Pearlstein to call it "the stupidest fucking column I’ve ever read":

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2018/06/07/will-ending-quarterly-earnings-guidance-free-ceos-to-think-long-term/

But the dam had broken. In the months and years that followed, the Business Roundtable would adopt a series of statements that repudiated shareholder supremacy, though of course they didn't admit it. Rather, they insisted that they were clarifying that they'd always thought that sometimes not being a greedy asshole could be good for business, too. Though these statements were nonbinding, and though the CEOs who signed them did so in their personal capacity and not on behalf of their companies, capitalism's most rabid stans treated this as an existential crisis.

Lowenstein identifies this as the forerunner to today's panic over "woke corporations" and "DEI," and – just as with "woke capitalism" – the whole thing amounted to a a PR exercise. Lowenstein links to several studies that found that the CEOs who signed onto statements endorsing "stakeholder capitalism" were "more likely to lay off employees during COVID-19, were less inclined to contribute to pandemic relief efforts, had 'higher rates of environmental and labor-related compliance violations,”' emitted more carbon into the atmosphere, and spent more money on dividends and buybacks."

One researcher concluded that "signing this statement had zero positive effect":

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/08/companies-stand-solidarity-are-licensing-themselves-discriminate/614947

So shareholder supremacy isn't a legal obligation, and statements repudiating shareholder supremacy don't make companies act any better.

But there's an even more fundamental flaw in the argument for the shareholder supremacy rule: it's impossible to know if the rule has been broken.

The shareholder supremacy rule is an unfalsifiable proposition. A CEO can cut wages and lay off workers and claim that it's good for profits because the retained earnings can be paid as a dividend. A CEO can raise wages and hire more people and claim it's good for profits because it will stop important employees from defecting and attract the talent needed to win market share and spin up new products.

A CEO can spend less on marketing and claim it's a cost-savings. A CEO can spend more on marketing and claim it's an investment. A CEO can eliminate products and call it a savings. A CEO can add products and claim they're expansions into new segments. A CEO can settle a lawsuit and claim they're saving money on court fees. A CEO can fight a lawsuit through to the final appeal and claim that they're doing it to scare vexatious litigants away by demonstrating their mettle.

CEOs can use cheaper, inferior materials and claim it's a savings. They can use premium materials and claim it's a competitive advantage that will produce new profits. Everything a company does can be colorably claimed as an attempt to save or make money, from sponsoring the local little league softball team to treating effluent to handing ownership of corporate landholdings to perpetual trusts that designate them as wildlife sanctuaries.

Bribes, campaign contributions, onshoring, offshoring, criminal conspiracies and conference sponsorships – there's a business case for all of these being in line with shareholder supremacy.

Take Boeing: when the company smashed its unions and relocated key production to scab plants in red states, when it forced out whistleblowers and senior engineers who cared about quality, when it outsourced design and production to shops around the world, it realized a savings. Today, between strikes, fines, lawsuits, and a mountain of self-inflicted reputational harm, the company is on the brink of ruin. Was Boeing good to its shareholders? Well, sure – the shareholders who cashed out before all the shit hit the fan made out well. Shareholders with a buy-and-hold posture (like the index funds that can't sell their Boeing holdings so long as the company is in the S&P500) got screwed.

Right wing economists criticize the left for caring too much about "how big a slice of the pie they're getting" rather than focusing on "growing the pie." But that's exactly what Boeing management did – while claiming to be slaves to Friedman's shareholder supremacy. They focused on getting a bigger slice of the pie, screwing their workers, suppliers and customers in the process, and, in so doing, they made the pie so much smaller that it's in danger of disappearing altogether.

Here's the principal-agent problem in action: Boeing management earned bonuses by engaging in corporate autophagia, devouring the company from within. Now, long-term shareholders are paying the price. Far from solving the principal-agent problem with a clean, bright-line rule about how managers should behave, shareholder supremacy is a charter for doing whatever the fuck a CEO feels like doing. It's the squishiest rule imaginable: if someone calls you cruel, you can blame the rule and say you had no choice. If someone calls you feckless, you can blame the rule and say you had no choice. It's an excuse for every season.

The idea that you can reduce complex political questions – like whether workers should get a raise or whether shareholders should get a dividend – to a mathematical rule is a cheap sleight of hand. The trick is an obvious one: the stuff I want to do is empirically justified, while the things you want are based in impossible-to-pin-down appeals to emotion and its handmaiden, ethics. Facts don't care about your feelings, man.

But it's feelings all the way down. Milton Friedman's idol-worshiping cult of shareholder supremacy was never about empiricism and objectivity. It's merely a gimmick to make greed seem scientifically optimal.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/18/falsifiability/#figleaves-not-rubrics/a>

#pluralistic #chevron deference #loper bright #scotus #stakeholder capitalism #boeing #economism #economics #milton friedman #shareholder supremacy #fiduciary duty #business #we cant have nice things #shareholder capitalism

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sungbeam · 26 days ago

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𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part one

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 16.3k out of 34.8k / read part two here

▷ inspired by. incantations (composed by richard meyer) it's not like,,, the fic's "soundtrack" or anything. i just think it sounds cool lol

this is my submission for deoboyznet's boyz who bite event! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

a/n: i'm telling u that i resisted the idea of another demon changmin au for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i went through THREE OTHER IDEAS BEFORE FALLING BACK ON THIS DRAFT. I SWEAR. so pls reblog + comment + enjoy! :') and thank u to @justalildumpling as usual for reading this for me 😭💖

PART I: THE CATALYST

THERE WERE WORSE WAYS TO GO OUT, you supposed. However, the paranormal wasn't often a subject you frequented, so sitting atop an ashy-white pentagram wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending a Friday night.

“Changmin, you're always hooting about this shit,” Juyeon said as he peered over his shoulder at the boy lurking in the far corner of the living room. “Are you seriously all bark and no bite?”

No one really paid attention to Changmin's response besides you and Juyeon (kind of—he was busy lighting the candles). Technically, it was a new behavior; Changmin was usually the one obsessed with horror movies and the paranormal, constantly getting you all to participate in Halloween horror nights and haunted houses, and bringing his beloved (cursed) Chucky doll to any and every group movie night. But now that you were finally acting on his demonic big talk, all of that stuff and nonsense dissipated like the snuffing out of a candle.

A shadow fell across his face. “I already warned you guys. This isn't something you should be toying around with.”

“It's a Ouija board—what could go wrong?” Shuhua wrinkled her nose as she began tapping out a circle of salt around your body and the pentagram on the floor. “I saw them on sale at Toys R Us for half off.”

Because you were the last one to arrive tonight, you were chosen as the sacrifice. It wasn't really fair because this was literally Juyeon and Changmin's apartment, but it didn't matter much in the end. You didn't believe in this stuff and it wasn't your salt being wasted. (You were also exempt from venmoing Hyunjae a portion of the paycheck he spent buying candles and chalk. Save fifteen bucks and sit on a pentagram in a salt circle? Why the fuck not.)

“Don't we need to draw blood or something?” you asked, half joking.

“No.” Changmin's expression somehow grew even darker. Your eyes widened slightly; you'd never seen him so serious. “Absolutely not. Do you want this to turn out worse?”

“Changmin, dude, you gotta chill, man.” Hyunjae dumped the Ouija board he'd dug out of his parents’ attic onto the floor next to you, just outside the salt circle.

Shuahua squawked. “Oy! You're ruining my perfect circle!”

“Just redo it, dumbass!”

“You redo it, asshat,” she growled back, tapping out some salt to finish it.

Juyeon, as if to placate your friend, said to Changmin, “The salt will protect her.”

You blinked. “Oh, that's what it's for?” You could've sworn that was what the candles were for, but again, you didn't believe in this, so why would you know a thing about it?

Changmin's face hit the palms of his hands with a resounding slap. “Absolutely not. You can't have Yn in the circle if she doesn't even know what the Hell is going on.”

“So do you wanna be in the circle?”

His left eye seemed to twitch as he cocked his head to the side. Something about that movement made a shiver crawl down your spine. The sensation was akin to watching a predator consider its prey from the brush… but that wasn't right. Changmin was all dimpled smiles and goofy shenanigans and twinning with his horror doll child. There wasn't anything remotely scary about him, unless you made him mad (you hadn't yet). So why were your inner alarms screaming for you to run? “That's actually not a bad idea—”

“Okay!” Hyunjae called his hands together. “Let's get started, shall we?”

The thoughts were brushed beneath the dusty rug in your head. You shrugged at Changmin. “Too late, I guess.”

You thought you heard him mutter out something under his breath in frustration, but you didn't understand the language.

All of your other friends began to gather on the side of the circle where the Ouija board was. You weren't even sure what all the pomp and circumstance was for, but Changmin didn't seem up to correct anything. He continued to sulk in the corner with his arms folded over his chest, eyes shaded by the brim of his cap as he stared onward.

Hyunjae's eyes fluttered closed as he, Juyeon, and Shuhua placed their fingers upon the planchette. “To the spirits who may be here in this room with us—”

“And demons,” Shuhua murmured.

A choked sound came from Changmin's side of the room.

Your eyes flickered open and saw him rub a hand down his face as if he was stressed.

“We are opening the veil between your world and ours,” Hyunjae continued. “My name is Hyunjae, and with me are Shuhua, Yn, Juyeon, and Changmin.”

Shuhua inhaled shallowly. “Is there someone here with us?”

The apartment was consumed in a dead silence as the five of you waited. You sat cross-legged in your ring of salt, cheek resting against your fist. Your eyes were drifting to half-mast—it’d been a long day for you, and considering it was approaching midnight already, it was about time you went to bed.

“We brought you a sacrifice,” Hyunjae said. “We were wondering if you could tell us your name.”

A chilling breeze brushed past your cheeks and you glanced up, expecting the air conditioning to have caused it. There was no vent above you, however. Strange.

You wrung your hands in your lap. “You could possess me if you'd like.”

Your eyes joined your friends’ as you all pinned your gazes to the Ouija board. The planchette remained still.

After a beat, your patience ran thin, and you sat up to lean back on your hands—wasn't something supposed to happen?

The amber glow from the candles in the living room wavered violently. In your surprise, your fingers grated against the salt and hardwood as you nearly fell backward. You yanked your hand back to you at the sting.

The bodies in the room went taut, speechless.

A gust of wind—something impossible in this enclosed space—whipped past you in a wide circle. The salt circle was no more, the candle flames were snuffed.

You sat stiff as a board. For a moment, you could swear you felt some invisible, foreign weight rest upon your chest. It sank deep into you, a phantom hand reaching into your body as if to latch onto your very soul.

Ba bump ba bump ba bump, your heart drummed wildly in your chest.

Howls and gasps of delight were drowned out by the blood in your ears; they were sounds of awe from your friends. You placed your hand over your sternum in the dark to feel for that unseen force, but there was nothing.

The room flooded with warm light. It chased away the shadows to the furthest corners.

You glanced up and saw Juyeon at the light switch with a boyish grin stretched across his lips. “That was crazy! Yn, how do you feel?”

Eyes darted to you.

The pentagram beneath you was smudged, the white chalk staining your pants and your hands. You managed a smile, and then a slow nod. What you felt earlier was probably nothing.

“I'm good,” you chirped. You glanced over at Changmin in the corner, his eyes still shaded by the brim of his cap, but with the muscle in his jaw clenched. Why? Why did you look at him? You couldn't fathom why survival instinct had you encoded to turn toward that which was capable of your demise. “Yeah, I'm good.”

A yawn tore through you as you stepped into your darkened apartment. Your hand fumbled for the light switch and you tucked your shoes away on the rack, before depositing your keys onto the table with a noisy clatter. The remainder of your time spent at Juyeon and Changmin's had been spent cleaning up the failed ritual, and you hit the road as soon as it was over.

Your roommates were all out for the night, so the apartment was cold and quiet as you stumbled down the hall to your bedroom. Compared to your friends, you'd left rather quickly because of a text you'd received from Lee Chan, a good friend of yours and former neighbor from childhood. His home life hadn't been the most spectacular, so you and he became fast friends during the moments after school when you hung out on your front lawn.

He'd swung by your apartment earlier to drop off banana muffins, but you hadn't been home. I'm home now! But you can totally come by in the morning instead, you texted him after setting your backpack down and peeling off your jacket.

As you sat in the dim gold illuminating from your desk lamp, the pressure in your chest returned. You could feel your heart pick up speed in your ribcage and you lifted your finger up to your mouth to suck on the dollop of blood that had welled to the surface. It was a small scratch from when the candles went out—your own clumsiness—but it was nothing a My Little Pony bandaid couldn't fix.

A featherweight sensation drifted over your arm, and you slapped your palm over it as if to catch whatever invisible insect crawled atop your skin.

There was nothing though.

You glanced over at the window to your right. The sky outside was an unpeculiar ebony riddled with the white speckles of distant stars. No breeze drifted in from outdoors and you double-checked that the window was closed.

You startled as your phone vibrated on top of your desk.

dino!!: oh it's okay! i have dance practice early in the morning, so i'd rather bother you while ur still awake haha dino!!: i'll be by in about 10ish min if that's cool? your phone: sounds good lol and tysm :’)) love mingyu's banana muffins

You smiled to yourself at the thought of those delicious pastries. Chan's friend Mingyu baked whenever he was stressed, and he usually gave out the results of his stress-bakes to friends. The first time you'd tasted his banana chip muffins was the closest you would ever get to heaven on Earth.

“I'm glad he makes you smile at least.”

Your phone clattered to the floor, your physical body leaping five feet in the air as your soul flew out of its encasing. Everything in you jolted like one, big heart palpitation, and your wide eyes took in the sight of a person standing by your window.

Ji fucking Changmin had nary an apology on his lips for scaring the everloving Hell out of you. It was as if he hadn't even moved out of his position at his apartment: the crossed arms, the tense posture, the clenched jaw.

Except, his eyebrow was cocked this time, unamused by your very valid fear.

“Oh, fuck you.” You braced your palms against your bed as you stood opposite from him. “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.”

“I got it the first time.”

You could have blown steam out of your ears. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, you creep?”

He raised his palms up, finally breaking pose. “I know what this looks like—”

“You know what this looks like?” You let out a scoff, throwing your arm out in wild gesticulation to match the throttle of your heartbeat. “This looks like Edward Cullen in Twilight, except this isn't a movie, you're not Robert Parkinson, and you just climbed up a five story building!”

Changmin stepped forward, and you took a very obvious step back. He exhaled, pressing his lips together. “Okay, I deserve that,” he muttered.

“No shit. I should call the cops on you, friend or not. What is the matter with you?” You had known Changmin for as long as your college career thus far. The five of you had met in the freshman dorms and stuck together like a package deal since. You were all quite close, and you'd spent more than your fair share of quality time with Changmin.

But this—nothing could warrant this behavior.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

You enclosed your palms around your arms, defensive. “Then you call or text or use the front door. My window was locked—”

“The lock on your window should be the least of your concerns,” he huffed. There was a firmness in his voice and behind his words, and a matching gleam of desperation in his face. He pressed his fingers against your bedspread and the air seemed to still.

That phantom breeze had returned and it drifted against your arm. It came accompanied by the weight in your chest. “What,” you stammered, “do you mean?”

He glanced away then, that tension seizing his shoulders again. He scratched his jaw seemingly at odds with words. “The ritual that happened tonight… that was real.”

You paused. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not.”

“Changmin, I'm way too exhausted to deal with your pranks right now. If tonight was all an elaborate thing you guys did to get back at me for waking you up at 4AM—”

“Yn.” The tone of his voice made you stop. It made you think. You considered the graveness of his expression differently; you had never seen him so serious. It was jarring. “I am being incredibly serious. The thing that happened to you tonight? That was a summoning ritual, and you were actually put into contact with Hell.”

You remained quiet, unknowing of how to answer. All logic in your brain was countering his statements profusely—it wasn't possible. There was no way something as little as chalk, salt, and candles could open up a portal to Hell.

At your lack of response, Changmin continued, “Tonight, a line to Hell was opened. The ritual was meant to contact a demonic entity. Usually, ritualists use it to make deals and bargains with whoever answers the call. The human link—the 'sacrifice’” —he looked at you pointedly— “is one half of the signing party responsible for fulfilling whatever the bargain is.”

A shudder rattled down your spine at what he revealed to you. This had to be a joke, you thought. This could not be real. But every time you looked at Changmin, the expression on his face did not change and his voice did not waver.

You swallowed, hard. “So,” you said finally, your voice barely a whisper, “you're saying…”

A lone nod. “You made contact with a demon tonight.” He paused for a beat, something warring behind his eyes. “You made contact with me.”

What. You sputtered out a laugh.

Changmin released a small, but sharp exhale, patiently waiting for you to let your giggles out. There were undoubtedly better ways to reveal it, but any way would still evoke such a reaction from you.

“Okay, now I know you're fucking with me,” you said with the lingering curl of a smile on your face. “You're saying that you're a demon?”

He seemed to weigh an idea in his head for a millisecond before caving. He flicked his chin out toward you. “You cut yourself tonight?”

You flinched and instinctively curled your right hand, your other fingers running over the small slice in your index finger. “What?”

“Come on. Let me see.” At your balking, he lifted up his hand. “I bet you I have a matching mark.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What hand and where?”

“Right hand. Index.”

“This doesn't count because that's the most predictable hand and finger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yn, don't be silly. I literally have the same mark.”

Slowly, he stepped his way around the bed to your side, stopping only close enough where you could inspect his hand from a distance. Lo and behold, the flesh of his index finger was neatly sliced open, slightly diagonal in the top right quadrant of the finger—exactly where yours was.

The breeze returned like a cool breath, gentle against your cheek, as you raised your eyes to meet his again. The horror in your gaze must have confirmed that he'd convinced you of who—no—what he was.

“So what does this mean exactly?” you asked him. There were no giggles this time.

Changmin sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “We are now bound via soul,” he said and extended his hand out slightly. His fingers curled inward and he gave a tugging motion level with your chest, and something deep within you moved.

Your eyes went as wide as a full moon. “What the Hell…”

“That's the line we're connected by.”

“I'm on a leash?”

Changmin glanced toward the ceiling as if mentally counting to three, then took a breath. “Not a leash; it's just a line. That's what was created between us when I became the demon on the other end and you spilled your blood on the pentagram. It doesn't mean we're restrained to stay within physical proximity of one another, but it does mean that you can't run away and hide from me.”

You shuddered. “That sounds scary.”

“It would be if you didn't fulfill your end of a bargain, but you never made a bargain.” He lifted his baseball cap up to card a hand through his blond hair before replacing the hat on his head. “Which basically means that we're stuck like this. We are emotionally and metaphysically bound to one another.”

There were a lot of words that had been said over the past few minutes, and most of them were difficult to wrap your head around. The worst truth of all was the brief, but very real sensation you had felt when Changmin had tugged on the invisible link between the two of you. That weight on your chest from earlier… had that been the “bond” settling into place?

“How could sitting on a chalk pentagram even” —you waved your hands around as you attempted to formulate words— “how was all of that possible? I thought Ouija boards were fucking toys?”

“I told you guys that you shouldn't play around with those things.”

“Well, how the Hell were we supposed to know this was going to happen?” you countered. The four of you had done some innocent fooling around, and now, you were “emotionally and metaphysically bound” to Changmin. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Changmin sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “We can undo it. I think.”

You think? “How?”

“I—I need to do some research,” he said with a grimace. “I've never heard about instances like this and I didn't think it was even possible. I thought I could just intercept the call—”

Intercept the call? You shook your head. “I need you to start from the beginning, but slowly, as if you're speaking to a five year old.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped abruptly.

A change in expression flickered across his face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?” You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day. “Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.” You settled into your desk chair and pulled out one of Mingyu's stress-baked muffins. As you peeled the parchment wrapper from the muffin's bottom half, you attempted to process all that had occurred within the past two hours. Every time you rewound the events, you met the same dozen or so questions. If only Changmin were still here to answer them, but he mentioned something about going off to answer questions of his own, including ones pertaining to undoing this rather inconvenient situation you’d found yourselves in.

“He should have stopped us,” you garbled between bites of banana chip muffin.

Your chewing came to a gradual halt as you marinated on that thought. “He… should have stopped us.” Why didn't he stop the four of you? If he had stopped you and suggested a movie instead, or any other activity for that matter, you wouldn't be here and he wouldn't be stressed.

He should have stopped you since he knew what you were getting yourselves into.

You crumpled the now empty muffin wrapper in your fist. Ji Changmin had far too much to explain to you.

PART II: THE CONSEQUENCES

IF THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE WICKED, Changmin didn't want to be wicked anymore. By popular perception, he and half his heritage were “evil.” While his father was a human from this mortal plane, his mother hailed from one of the nine circles of Hell. They'd fallen in love, conceived a halfling child, and the remainder was history.

“You look like shit, Ji.”

Changmin's eye twitched as irritation needled beneath the surface of his skin. “Thanks,” he drawled, not bothering to spare Lee Chan a glance. If he had limited energy reserves, he wasn't about to spend a drop on giving Chan the time of day.

Plus, Changmin was more than aware of the thick shadows that lingered beneath his eyes like fog clinging to cobblestone. He had woken up from his ninety minute power nap, trudged into the bathroom, and faced his own gauntness in the mirror. Why the fuck did Lee Chan think it necessary to point it out?

Chan's stare lingered on him through the practice room's mirror for a moment longer until he was called away by Kwon Soonyoung. Only then, when Chan's attention was passed elsewhere, could Changmin release the breath he was holding onto.

It was one thing that Changmin couldn't shake the offputting energy he felt whenever he was near Chan; he could stomach being on the same dance team as the guy, even though they each harbored an unspoken dislike for one another; but it was another thing entirely that he and Chan were both friends with you. The two boys attempted to be civil in front of you because your comfort was more important than their pettiness, but currently, said truce was nowhere in sight just as you were.

Simply, there were less reasons for him to be amiable today, including his thinning patience. Last night’s debacle had drained him of his energy. He was a halfling, not a pure-blooded demon. Additionally, his mother wasn’t a high-ranking demon by any means, which basically screwed him in the area of power stores. He had magical capabilities, but it could only handle so much. Answering ritual calls and creating soul bonds required a decent amount of power, which was why they were usually only answered by the more powerful demonheads of Hell. They enjoyed making human suffering a pastime.

Tacking onto that Changmin’s brilliant idea of warping into and out of your room last night instead of using his own two feet, as well as spending hours digging through the occultish corners of the internet, added all together to make for one exhausted, stressed, and grumpy halfling.

A presence—this one being far more welcome than the previous one—appeared by Changmin’s side in the mirror. “You really need to start going to bed when you say you're going to bed,” Juyeon said as plopped down onto the laminated hardwood to stretch out his calf muscles.

Changmin followed his lead onto the floor, but opted to slide into a left split. “I was tossing and turning the whole night,” he dismissed with an innocent lie. (Well, “innocent” was subjective.)

“You should try this new matcha that Hyunjae got from his hyung. He brought it back from his recent trip from Japan.”

For a second, Changmin let the words feed into his head one by one: matcha… from Hyunjae… from Hyunjae's brother… which one was he? Oh, the one who just got back from Japan, Sangyeon. When his tired brain finally caught up, he gave a nod. “What about it?” he asked, raising himself up to switch his hips into the right split.

Juyeon looked on with envious admiration, even if this was the thousandth time he stretched with Changmin. “It’s really refreshing and has a bit of a caffeine kick, but it's not as awful as coffee. Indigo likes it, too—said something about it being one of those rare finds that you can only get in the secluded countryside or something.”

Changmin paused. Juyeon's girlfriend Indigo was someone Changmin got along with well, but that wasn't why he was slightly interested in the matcha now. What Juyeon wasn't aware of was Indigo's witch heritage. Just as Changmin was hiding in plain sight, so too was Indigo. And if she recommended some countryside matcha powder, he was going to be inclined to try some.

“Yeah,” he coughed, “sure. Sounds like it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Juyeon smiled and nodded. “I'll get you some later today then. Hopefully it'll help with the weird headaches you've been having, too.”

Changmin had nearly forgotten about those with everything that had happened. He'd recently been struck by random headaches; there were no patterns to their appearance, and no remedy—human, at least—that could soothe them until they faded on their own. He'd failed to ask Indigo about it because, well, he didn't think it was important enough to act on. But if this tea could help him out, then it would be taking out two birds with one stone.

Practice went on swimmingly. Though Changmin could only boast about his ninety minutes of sleep, when it came to dance, it was as if he was possessed. This was a hobby—a passion—that never failed to drive a fire through his veins. It didn't matter if he'd had the worst week in the history of worst weeks; when the music started, he was cued in, and he gave it his all.

As a river of sweat poured down his face and the room suffocated with the humidity of everybody's labored breathing, practice came to an end. Changmin hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder and poured water down his throat. Juyeon wasn't far behind as the two of them waved goodbye to their teammates and headed out.

Saturday mornings usually occurred in similar fashions: dance practice was held from 7AM to 10AM, then Changmin and Juyeon would return to their apartment to wash up; Changmin would then eat about an elephant's worth of food while he caught up on lecture recordings—unless he had something else to distract him.

In the case of this Saturday, as soon as Changmin had finished showering, he plummeted face-first into his pillows and was out like a light.

Demons could dream, one must understand. However, the demonic body tended only to dream when it was well spent—exhausted. Demons liked to correlate a weakness with having dreams, because foolish visions meant that one was unable to control their own mind. Control was rather important when dealing with magic.

Even if the dream was about, say, something real and occurring right at the moment Changmin was asleep—it was still considered a dream. Because he had not yet learned to leash his mind from meandering down his fresh soul bond, he found himself in a body that was not his own.

Yours. It was your body.

Was this real, he wondered, as he soaked in the familiar sight of your bed, the desk, and the closet space. He'd been in here just last night—albeit, in a fashion that wasn't agreeable—and he didn't expect it to change, but it did look real.

It was like he was actually sitting in your room, except he wasn't able to move or control his own body. The heart that beat in his chest was yours, the blood that pumped in his ears was yours, and the breath that fell from his mouth was yours.

He inwardly sighed as you adjusted your position at your desk chair. What a predicament he found himself in. He could feel the ache in your back from the uncomfortable piece of furniture beneath you, as well as the knots in your shoulders. (Did that mean you had a bad night of sleep?)

Though, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. He did adore the smell of your perfume lingering in the air and clinging to the sheets, the walls, the furniture… You would never know this of course, if he could help it.

You were currently reading a book—for class or for enjoyment, he hadn't the foggiest. The left side of the novel you clutched in your hand was riddled with colored sticky tabs, and you had the back of a ballpoint pen pressed between your lips. (His lips? …No, this was a precarious line of thinking.)

Changmin followed along as you read. Well, he tried. Whoever designed the layout of this book must have had perfect vision and no sympathy for someone visually challenged. The font size was likely less than ten point, and good grief, the line spacing—

“Holy shit.”

He paused. Right, that was you and not him.

You leaned forward and brought the book closer to your face as you read over the line again.

“Oh my gosh, Eliot, you incredible, talented woman.” This earnest compliment was swiftly followed by a colored tab to mark the passage. Changmin was about to read what you tabbed, but your eyes went down to the desk to scrawl a thought onto a post-it note. “Dorothea, you poor, poor soul. Casaubon needs to get the fuck over himself—you are fifty, dude.”

Changmin, frankly, had no clue what was happening. But he didn't entirely mind, because the pure joy that fluttered in your (his) chest was enough to keep him satisfied. There was something oddly serene about being in your sphere of presence, and in this state of being, that kept him at ease.

The stress of breaking this soul bond ebbed away like the receding edge of a tide.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Changmin couldn't tell how much time passed before you bookmarked your place with an index card and pulled your phone toward you.

12:04PM was what your lockscreen read.

Oh, so he was definitely catching up on sleep, at least.

Wait—had you not eaten lunch yet? The unmistakable void in the pit of your stomach…

Yn! Eat lunch, you silly girl! Eat—

“He could just be away from his phone,” you muttered to yourself. There were a few app notifications waiting for you, but each dismissal was fueled with mild disappointment.

Who were you talking about, he wondered.

A flash of bitter annoyance pierced his chest at the memory of who you'd been texting last night with that big smile on your face. However, any of that sentiment was dashed clean away when you pulled up your text chain with him, not Lee Chan.

Changmin's heart sped to a gallop as he watched you swipe out just as quickly as you'd checked in. The reason was two-pronged: one, you were wondering about him; and two, you had texted him while he was currently asleep and he did not know how to wake himself up.

Ji Changmin, he chastised himself, you're not only intruding, you're also inadvertently ignoring her.

He could understand that he put you (and abandoned you) in a worrisome place last night. If he could tear out the strands of his fried, blond hair he would.

You were his friend, were you not? He cared about you, and this soul bond wasn't only stressful to him, but to you as well. Maybe ignorance really would have been bliss in this case.

Your phone emitted a low vibration as it rang. Changmin had missed the moment you decided to call someone. Juyeon's contact name and photo was displayed in the middle of the screen, and he answered before the call went to voicemail. “Yn, what's up? You're—you’re not mad about last night, are you?” The wince in Juyeon’s voice was audible.

“No, I'm not mad,” you promised him as you leaned your cheek against your palm. “I was just wondering if you know where Changmin is. I texted him an hour ago and he hasn't answered yet—I guess I'm just a little antsy.”

Shuffling, then, “Oh! Changminnie's sleeping. He didn't sleep well last night, so as soon as we came home from practice, he was knocked out.”

Relief made your shoulders sag. “Ah, okay.” A smile, self-deprecating in nature, curled up on your mouth. “No worries then. Thanks, Juyo.”

“No problem. I'll let him know to call you once he wakes up.”

“No, it's okay” —you began putting your materials away— “have you had lunch yet? I can swing by with food; I haven't eaten yet.”

“Really? I haven't eaten yet, and Changmin hasn't either. I'll split the cost with you.” Changmin wished he could say that he would also split the cost. Why were you coming over? He hadn't gotten a good look at the texts you sent before.

(It had to be because you wanted to see him, right? To talk—of course to talk and not for any other reason.)

You stood up from your chair and stretched out the stiff muscles in your back. “I'll be by in—maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“Sounds great!” Juyeon chirped. “Thanks Yn-ie. See you in a bit.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, see you.”

As the call cut off, Changmin was left with a daunting task: to wake himself up. There didn't seem to be many options as to do this. If demonic dreaming was activated based on lack of control, that meant he had a lack of energy. Thus, if he couldn't yet regain control, it could only mean that he was still tired.

There were a great many things that he had yet to figure out about this kind of magic. It wasn't like his mother ever anticipated he would need to know about it, so she never explicitly taught it and he never asked.

He was kicking himself in the head now.

Meanwhile, you had busied yourself with getting ready to leave. You'd selected a jacket from your closet, swiped on a thin layer of lip gloss, and spritzed yourself with that divine-smelling perfume. It made his toes curl and his chest feel fuzzy.

Just as you were filling your purse, your phone jolted with an incoming call.

Changmin soured as he saw the caller ID through your eyes and felt, not disdain, but pleasant surprise. He couldn't fathom what you saw in Lee Chan, but he never said anything; you and Chan knew each other longer, after all. It wasn't his place to say anything, especially when his reason revolved around something as subjective as a “vibe.”

“Hi Chan,” you greeted when you accepted the call.

It was funny—a dull, but annoyingly familiar pulsing appeared in Changmin's head. It beat steady against his cranium, hard and relentless. The longer it continued, the more it hurt. Could you feel it, too? The sensation was recognizable at this point after so many instances of the random headaches popping up. Was he seriously getting another stupid headache during a dream?

He winced to himself, but suddenly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard you audibly grimace.

Was this headache yours or his? Should he be worried?

“What was that? Are you okay?” asked Chan from the other side.

Changmin/You clenched your jaw as your vision went spotty for a moment. Your hand whipped out to catch yourself against the table.

Panic seized his chest as you muttered out a reassurance, though unconvincing. The invisible string that tied Changmin to you tightened, stealing the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if his own physical body was yanking him back.

He was waking up.

No, he thought, no I need to make sure she's okay—

Distantly, he heard yours and Chan's voices. Your words between one another were muddied and distorted to Changmin. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, his eyes opened.

“I could smell lunch through the door,” Juyeon sang to you in greeting as he eagerly beckoned you into the apartment.

You chuckled, shucking your shoes off under the rack by the door. In your hand, you held onto a large bag containing a box of delectably fragrant fried chicken and fries. Oh, glorious sodium and cholesterol. “Yeah, well, imagine my suffering as I was driving over here with it in the car,” you mused.

Juyeon locked the door behind you and took the bag out of your hands.

It was another thing to return to the site of last night's ritual. You'd been in this apartment dozens of times before, but it was difficult to look at the specific spot on the living room floor where the chalk and salt had been. Even if the vacuum cleaner had taken care of all that remained, you couldn't help but choose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from that spot on the floor.

“Oh, could I get a glass of water, by the way?” you asked Juyeon as the two of you began taking things out of the bag to lay them out on the coffee table. “I was feeling a bit lightheaded earlier.”

Juyeon's eyebrows creased as he straightened to head into the kitchen. “Shit, yeah—of course. You drove here while feeling like that? What if you passed out, Yn-ie?”

You snuck a fry into your mouth, murmuring your thanks as he handed you the cup of water. “I'm fine,” you insisted with a vague wave of your hand, “it was just the blood rushing up to my head, I think. And besides, you were already expecting me and I was hungry.”

“I would have woken Changmin up and dragged his ass out of bed.” Juyeon settled onto the couch with you and cracked open the can of Sprite he'd gotten out of the fridge. “You know, Changmin's been getting these random headaches, too. I guess not exactly nausea, but you guys have gotta be more careful,” he waved a fried potato at you as he said this.

The irony could not escape you, and you failed to keep a sarcastic smile to yourself. Uh huh. Be more careful, you say? Too late for that. You took a ginger sip of the water. “Is that right? Maybe he just needs more sleep or something.”

“That's what we thought at first,” Juyeon hummed, idly scratching the back of his neck, “but they happen no matter what he does. There's not really a noticeable pattern.”

You wondered if it had anything to do with his demoness. You couldn't be too sure because you hardly knew anything about his species yourself, but that could explain the seemingly randomness of the headaches. Perhaps it was another question to add to your list.

“Huh.” You frowned. “Well, I hope they go away for him soon.”

Juyeon nodded solemnly. “Yeah, same. Hyunjae's gonna bring over some matcha for him to try… oh, hey! You like matcha—do you want some?”

“Sure, I'd love—”

Your phone buzzed violently in your jacket pocket. A laugh of disbelief flew from your mouth when you saw the caller ID, and you flashed the screen at Juyeon. “Speak of the Devil.”

Juyeon chuckled as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, I'm so sorry I missed your text.” His voice, rough from sleep, was accompanied by heavy breathing and the sounds of fabric shuffling in your ear.

You nearly choked, but you remembered that Juyeon was none the wiser to the weird spike in your heartbeat, nor the reason for it. “It's all good; I was being impatient. Juyo said you didn't sleep well.” Your eyes darted to his closed bedroom door and wondered why he hadn't come out yet.

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Of course, I'm okay,” you drawled, glancing over at Juyeon. “Why? Should I not be okay?”

“No, I mean—” His voice in your ear and behind his bedroom door overlapped one another like two ocean waves colliding along the sand. His door ripped open.

Changmin stood on the threshold with his phone in one hand and the other clutching the doorknob. He was in a loose white T-shirt and sweatpants, a thin layer of sweat making his cheekbones shine. His eyes, a wild creature of their own, landed on you—all of the tension in his body melted away.

He exhaled and sank against the doorframe, ending the call. “Hell…” he muttered under his breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

Concern had you rising to your feet. “What? What's wrong?”

Changmin closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the couch somewhere between you and Juyeon. “Bad dream,” he grunted. “How much are we splitting?” The latter was asked as he shoved a fry into his mouth and pulled out the Venmo app on his phone.

You and Juyeon exchanged glances over the blond head: what just happened?; you think I know?

Juyeon sent you a shrug. “Well Yn?”

Now their focus was on you. You took your seat again and reached for your glass of water. “Ten bucks each.”

All of the food that you brought turned into crumbs faster than Cinderella's carriage at midnight. Considering all three of you had barely eaten all day, it was expected. At some point, Juyeon dipped out of the apartment to meet someone for a group project, so that left you and Changmin alone. It was the perfect opportunity to get what you came here for.

“You left pretty abruptly last night,” you said to him as you returned to the couch with a full glass of water. Changmin stood nearly opposite to you, his back against the wall by his bedroom door. He also nursed a cup of water. “And I have some questions.”

He let out a small laugh, his lips pressing his dimples into his cheeks. “I'm sure you do. Sorry, I realized that after I left,” he admitted and raised his free hand up to grab the back of his neck. “So shoot.”

It was strange, you thought. There was no way this guy could be a demon, but was that leaning into stereotype? Last night, that feeling you got when he looked at you from beneath the shadow of his cap… your hairs had stood on their ends and you couldn't shake the spike of adrenaline in your bloodstream. It had been undeniable.

But here he was with a pretty, boyish smile as if he was a completely different person.

“What did you mean by 'intercept the call?’ What exactly happened during the ritual last night?” you asked.

The smile slipped from his face a little, and his eyes flitted over to the spot you had been sitting twelve hours ago. “Like I said,” he began, “you opened a line to Hell—like a phone call, basically. I channeled enough energy to answer it before anyone else from Hell could. And instead of, y'know, appearing in front of you like another demon would, I was already there and just chose to stay quiet when the candles went out.”

You straightened. “So the breeze in the room was your doing?”

Changmin cocked his head to the side with a wince. “I think so? At least, I can't control it yet. Think of it as a physical manifestation of power.”

A physical manifestation of power—you imagined last night's scene from Changmin's point of view, where he stood in the far corner. He would have focused his energy toward the breach between the worlds, and that fulfillment swept through the room like a gust of wind. But then what about all the other times? That moment wasn't the only other instance of a cool breeze on your skin.

When you brought this up to him, Changmin pressed his lips together. “Ah. This?”

On cue, something lightweight and cool brushed past your cheek. Your hand darted up to cover it, and you looked over at Changmin who arched a brow at you. “You get creepier and creepier the more I know you.”

His mouth burst at the seams with a smile. He ducked his blond head, shaking it. You were missing some kind of joke here. “Don't speak too soon,” he said. When he raised his head back up, he ran his tongue over his smile. “It happens when I want it to, it happens when I don't want it to. Just depends.”

“Great.”

“I'll get it under control,” he promised.

You leaned forward onto your knees and pressed your mouth into a slight pout. “Is there anything I can do to bug the shit out of you? This seems like it's only entertaining for you.”

“Well,” Changmin shrugged helplessly, “that's kind of the point of why demons started to do this. They find humans entertaining, and they also like to hold them accountable. The line” —he gave a gentle tug at the invisible string you still couldn't find— “is an insurance policy.”

“Saying it like that just implies it's that much harder to work your way around it.”

“Pretty much.” A grin split his face, and you were struck by the ease you smiled back without having meant to. “Don't look too excited now.”

You flattened your face and voice. “I'm thrilled.”

Before Changmin could respond, you suddenly remembered the main question that plagued you last night. You cleared your throat, your fingers dancing around the sides of your glass. “By the way… why didn't you stop us last night?” You watched his facial expression and how it was carefully knitted into something blank. “If you knew what was going to happen, you could have insisted we stopped, and we would have. Why let us get to this point?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Changmin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was pretty confident that I could intercept it, so there wasn't any real risk with doing the ritual if you guys wanted to have fun. I just didn't count on…” He lifted his right hand, where the pinkish scar was left on his index finger.

He hadn't counted on you getting cut and sealing the bond.

You pinched the space between your eyes. “Ah. My clumsiness has now doomed me to be metaphysically handcuffed to you.”

“I wasn't going to say it…”

“Oh, go to Hell.”

Changmin laughed. “Only if you come with me.”

Heat rushed to the surface of your skin. Sometimes, his mouth moved too fast. You snuck a glance at him through your fingers while he sipped on his water. If you peered close enough, the tips of his ears were flushing to a light pink.

He lowered the glass from his lips, and a crease formed between his brows. “Also,” he said carefully, his tone starkly different from less than a minute ago, “I do have another side effect to add to the list.”

Your stomach flipped. Not another thing—

“I may or may not be able to occupy your physical body when I'm dreaming—”

Changmin grimaced as the bottom of your glass banged against the wooden coffee table. That expression only deepened at the wide-eyed fury—fear—on your face. “And when I was asleep earlier,” he continued on, dooming himself to walk the plank, “I kind of intruded on your reading session, and when you called Juyeon, and when Chan call—”

“Can I murder you? Would that harm me in any way?” you cut in.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

You stood, abandoning your seat on the couch and your water glass, to step across the room toward him. “Because if I could,” you said while pressing the back of your knuckles to your lips, “I can rid myself of the absolute creep of a friend I have!”

Changmin's eyes widened as soon as it hit him—your hand. Your hand hit his shoulder.

He bolted.

“Hey, let's talk about this, Yn-ah!” he exclaimed and dove into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. Some monstrously high-pitched scream left his mouth as he scrambled to stay out of your reach.

“We are talking about this, Changmin-ah.” You charged after him, chasing him around the counter and back out of the kitchen. If you didn't respect Juyeon like you did, you would have fully embraced becoming a bull in a china shop.

Your fist hit the solid plane of his bedroom door just as it slammed in your face. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a growl. “You possessed my body without my consent!”

“It's not like I consented to it either! It just happened!”

“That's not a valid excuse, you panini head!”

“I don't want to possess your body!” he insisted through the door with his voice going higher than the Eiffel Tower. “Why would I want to possess your body? I don't wanna be around when you and bestie Lee Chan gush about Star Trek.”

On certain occasions you really wished you had Superman's laser vision. Then you could burn through this stupid piece of door and roast a demon. “You're not helping yourself, Ji.”

A beat passed. “Look,” he huffed. “It only happened because I was exhausted as shit, okay? I really had no control of it, I swear on my life.”

You remained still with your arms braided across your chest without a word coming to mind.

“I didn't see anything sensitive, I promise, and my body woke me up and pulled me out of it when you got that really bad headache.”

Huh? That bout of lightheadedness… was that related to how the connection was severed? Or at least, hindered? You brushed the curiosity aside; weren't you supposed to be mad at this guy?

“Which was also why I was worried when I woke up and asked if you were okay,” he added in earnest. He did look worried like you were going to die when he woke up…

You glared impetuously at the closed door to the point you were sure even the wood grains were two seconds from apologizing to you. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “But you're not fully off the hook; I just won't use the kitchen knives.”

A choking sound filtered through and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward.

“What can I do to make it even?” Changmin asked, though he continued to remain behind the closed door.

Frankly, there weren't many things he could do to even the score unless you chose to be creepy and sit in on his private moments. You shuddered—you’d rather not. Those were private for a reason. Maybe he could burn his eyes out with bleach. (Kidding… ish.) “I don't know,” you said half-heartedly, ”tell me a secret.”

A moment of silence passed. “I thought it was hot when you asked if you could kill me.”

Not even an ounce of shame with this one, huh? “You're sick. I'm leaving.”

For the second time today, his bedroom door ripped open. “No, wait, I was kidding! Yn, I was kidding.” (He was not kidding).

You stopped, half-whirled around. In your periphery, he stepped out of his room, but refrained from getting too close. When you turned around fully, the red that dusted his cheekbones was unmistakable. Unfortunately, seeing him flustered was enough for you at the moment.

With a feigned, heavy sigh, you motioned to him. “C'mere.”

Changmin perked up like a confused puppy.

“Come here,” you repeated with more urgency this time. You curled your hand toward you to beckon him closer.

He crept closer to you. There was a gleam of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes as you continued to gesture at him closer… and closer still. Your heart throttled against your ribcage; your physical body was even unsure of what exactly you had in mind.

Only once his face was close enough you could count his eyelashes were you satisfied. You could hear him gulp.

And maybe you let the moment linger too long. His gaze flickered away from your eye contact for a heartbeat, eyelashes fluttering as he considered something out of the bounds of friendship.

You raised your hand up to his forehead and flicked him between his eyes. Hard.

Changmin yelped and fumbled backward to the boisterous sound of your laughter. He rubbed his forehead furiously where an angry, red mark formed and smarted. He snarled at you, “Not cool!” His face was nearly as red as the mark… oops.

“That's what you get!” you countered with an accusing finger. “Now. Promise me you'll never purposely possess my body in your dreams, you perv.”

A grumble came from the depths of his throat—agreement. “I never did it on purpose,” he mumbled, slapping his hand with yours in a binding handshake. He sounded like a teen boy who's gaming console was just taken away.

“And promise me that you will take care of yourself, so that we can get out of this binding thing and so that you don't accidentally possess me.”

“Didn't you offer to get possessed last night?” Changmin stiffened as the words left his lips. “I didn't mean that! Don't get the kitchen knives!”

His giggles pierced the air, sharp but endearing, as he scrambled back into his room with you clinging to his heels. “Or get the kitchen knives—it’s kind of hot.”

“Ji Changmin.”

PART III: THE RELATIVE

WHEN YOU APPEARED IN YOUR 8:30 biopsychology lecture on Monday morning, you had nearly forgotten that the world had not completely turned upside down when you bound your soul to Changmin’s. No one else but you and he knew about it, and it seemed he was determined to keep it that way. Nonetheless, when you settled in your usual seat about midway up the lecture hall, close to the exit on stage right, you looked into Yeh Shuhua’s terrifyingly beautiful eyes and almost blurted your secret.

It was because of that reason, and the fact that she was one of your close friends. She was one of the participants of the ritual; it was only right that you disclosed to her the consequences of all your actions. However, the reminder from Changmin echoed in your head like a dull heartbeat: Don’t tell any of them. Don’t do something stupid like Hyunjae or Shuhua. He realized that ‘stupid’ applied to him, too, right?

“You seem antsy,” were her first words to you as you finally decided on how you would roll up your jacket. It had taken a couple tries and configurations before you settled on just draping it over the chair behind you.

You straightened in your chair. Perhaps subtlety was not with you this morning. “My coffee was too strong,” you said.

She snorted, a bright and unassuming sound, as she pulled her laptop out from her bag. “Honey, you don’t drink coffee.”

…Right. You let the words sink in to properly register your dumbassery, then settled on the most basic excuse known to college students. “It’s too early for this.”

“Amen.” Conversation saved.

When you first signed up for this class, you were under the impression that it would be a riveting insight into the brain and its inner workings. Alas, your professor from Psych101 did you a disservice by testifying to Psych210’s interest factor, because it was entirely lacking in interesting things. The majority of what was being discussed in lecture could be read about via the slides, but unfortunately, participation was mandatory. Even worse was that this class was the prerequisite to the neuroscience class that was actually interesting.

You didn’t like to critique the teaching skills of a professor who was meant to research and not to teach, but you were going to for the umpteenth time.

Beside you, Shuhua barely swallowed a yawn and hid the last bits of it behind the lid of her coffee tumbler. She took a sip, then leaned over to you. “I’m pretty sure I learned all of this in freshman year biology.”

“Is that right,” you murmured. You hadn’t taken the introductory biology series because you were only minoring in psychology, whereas Shuhua was a neuroscience major. “You must really be suffering then.”

Her head slowly touched down onto your shoulder. “Tell me about it… by the way, did you hear about the house party that’s happening on Saturday?”

You hummed. “Who’s hosting?” House parties were usually something you needed to be a part of a friend group to be invited to. Though, that was usually the case for all parties in college, you’d found out. Fraternity parties were oftentimes exclusive to Greeks, or if you knew a frat brother or sorority sister. Other parties were spread by word of mouth and required an entrance fee that amounted to a fraudulent sum of money. Thus, if you went to any party, it was either a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, or one of your friends’ birthday parties.

“Hm… it’s my family friend’s kid’s friend group.” She paused, then clarified her statement, “Yangyang. You know Yangyang, right?

You made a sound of acknowledgement. “Isn't he friends with Xiaojun, Kevin, and Yuqi, that group?”

“That's the one,” she chirped. “But he only lives with Xiaojun and a couple other guys. It's a house in one of the neighborhoods nearby.”

“I see. Are we going?”

“Of course we are, silly.” Shuhua blindly patted one of your hands and you imagined that her eyes were likely already closed. You and your friends were accustomed to forcing one another to socialize outside the group from time to time; it made the college riptide a bit easier to swim through. “I just didn't know if you were aware or not yet.”

“Well, now I am,” you chuckled.

“You sure are.”

The remainder of the lecture went by as dull as it usually did, and 9:30 could not come faster. You and Shuhua bumbled out of the packed auditorium among the crowd of others filing out.

A yawn stretched your mouth open as you checked your phone. “You've got a class after this, right?” you asked Shuhua.

She nodded. “Unfortunately. Do you wanna have lunch together afterward?”

“Ah” —guilt anchored itself to the pit of your stomach, allowing the urge to spill your secret to dwindle— “I'm actually hanging out with Changmin today.” Neither of you had terribly busy Mondays, so you both decided to do some solution-hunting together, whatever that meant. He just needed to be back by the time his dance rehearsal started.

Her mouth quirked to the side in a slight frown. “Oh, okay. Just you two?”

“Yep.”

For a second, you thought she was gazing right into your soul where the invisible knot was tied linking you to your mutual friend. But she suddenly smiled and blew you a kiss. “No worries! Have fun.”

You blinked, the anxiety lingering. “Yeah… thanks. You, too.”

Shuhua left first to hurry off to her next class while you remained in the lobby. You had fully expected that she would at least ask what the two of you were doing, and you were prepared to come up with another dumb excuse. It wasn't suspicious that you and Changmin were hanging out alone, right? There were plenty of instances where you hung out solo with your close friends.

You brushed it away. It was the paranoia talking.

You headed toward the nearest parking lot. Because you lived relatively close to campus, there was usually no need to drive, but since you and Changmin were going elsewhere in the city, you opted to drive.

As you settled into the front seat, you sent him a text to let you know you were on your way over to his apartment. It would be convenient if you could somehow use the soul-bond to communicate with him instead, you thought as you navigated through campus to a nearby neighborhood. Alas, based on what Changmin told you before, the bond was more useful to him than it was for you. How wonderful.

You let your car run as you pulled up to the curb outside of his apartment complex. Through the windows on the first floor, a periwinkle sheen caught your eye. There wasn’t much doubt in your mind that it was the ribbon Changmin tied to his bicycle. It was his favorite color—not that you knew that for any particular reason, other than the fact that you were friends. It was useful information for birthday cards, was your reasoning.

Before you could meander down some weird mental road of thoughts, the passenger side door opened and closed. Your counterpart was dressed in dark green today: dark green sweater, a darker but muted shade of cargo pants, followed by a matching cap shoved over his blond hair. “Hi,” he said, strapping himself in with the seatbelt and setting his bag down by his feet.

He looked particularly pocket-sized today with the cheeky, dimpled smile on his face and you smiled in greeting. “Hi!” you chirped back. “Where to?”

“An aunt of mine lives downtown. Do you know how to get to Union Station?”

You nodded, tugging the car into drive, “Yup. Wow, she lives down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. When he did, he ducked his head so you only caught a glimpse of that dimpled smile. “She’s married to a siren.”

Your eyes went wide, and his laugh grew louder. You flattened your expression into a deadpan as heat rushed to the back of your neck. “Don’t laugh,” you muttered. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’d say for you to not pout then, but it’s cute,” he replied with that smile lingering on his face in the form of a half-smirk. He had pulled his phone out to text someone. “I’m only laughing because I had a feeling you’d react like that, and I was right.”

You huffed. “I feel like I’m at too much of a disadvantage around you.”

“You have more power than you think.” Changmin passed you a glance and deposited his phone in the cupholder. He leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “You just need to exercise it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly threaten you with kitchen knives and forehead flicks all the time.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s whatever. How was class?”

Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae were all aware of yours and Shuhua’s disdain for your shared biopsychology class. The complaints had filed (flooded) in as soon as the first week of classes were over. You could gab on and on about the boredom that plagued you, but you hardly wanted to be a broken record when there were other things to talk about. “It was fine,” you said, then swiftly moved to something else. “I think I almost told Shuhua, like, twice about the soul bond thing. Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Do you really think they’d believe us?”

You thought about it—about the twin cuts on your index fingers, the unseen string that tethered your souls together, the dream that Changmin had. They would think Changmin had roped you into his regular shenanigans, and in a way, he had. You sighed, albeit reluctantly. “True. But it just feels…” you grimaced. “Is it weird that I feel guilty?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, I’ve had to tiptoe around my mom’s and my true nature around you guys for years. It’s natural to wanna be truthful to your friends, Yn, but some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is there a reason why the supernatural community stays hidden? Is that something I can ask?”

“Of course,” he said easily, turning his gaze out the window. “It’s just that it’s better—safer—for us this way. Humans can hardly handle differences amongst themselves as it is; imagine what would happen if they found that even more species of sentient beings existed, y’know?”

Truth was a difficult pill to swallow. It was a capsule that often found itself lodged in a throat rather than being digested. And even if it eventually managed to make it to the stomach, it sank to the bottom like a body anchored by bricks in a river. There was, unfortunately, much merit to what Changmin said.

Your eyes flickered to your side mirrors as you merged onto the highway. “I see.”

“It’s definitely relieving that at least one of my close friends knows the truth now, though.” He knocked the back of his hand against your arm in a warm gesture, and although you were unable to return the expression or even look at him then, he was looking at you.

Because you and Changmin set off just after rush hour passed, the drive through the downtown scene was relatively easy. The rest of your time in the car was spent chatting about the party Yangyang and his housemates were throwing, as well as Changmin directing you to his aunt’s residence by the marina. His ability to give directions left much to be desired; your car was filled with shouts and bickering whenever he told you to turn too late.

Somehow though, you arrived at the right street, and he even helped you find a parking spot along a curb that didn’t involve ungodly hourly parking rates. You wouldn’t call it a complete redemption, but he was on his way toward one.

“Are you sure it’s cool if we just show up unannounced like this?” you asked him, tilting your head back to peer up at the apartments that towered above you. Some of the windows were left open and their curtains drifted whimsically in the mid-morning breeze; some of the fire escapes were connected by copper-colored ladders, fitting together like a puzzle. You liked to think that complexes like this housed residents who were friendly to one another like some fantasy video game—a pair of friends hanging out of their windows to gossip across the fire escapes, a cat sleeping in the window—that sort of thing.

Changmin stood next to you, but his gaze was turned out to the marina in the distance, the sails of boats in the foreground of the slate blue-gray of the bay water. “Yeah, it’s cool. And we’re not exactly unannounced; I told her we were coming.”

“When?” You followed him in through the front door. The hinges squealed upon use and the door shuddered violently when it closed.

“In the car.”

You deadpanned at his back as you followed him up the stairs. “You’re an awful relative.”

“Don’t all relatives show up to their other relatives' homes unannounced?” he jested. “I’m a model nephew, actually.”

“A model in what standard? Hell?”

He shrugged up ahead, glancing back to pass you a boyish grin. “Yeah, basically. My mom says demons just kind of teleport into their relatives’ homes unannounced.”

“So that’s where your incredible lack of boundaries comes from,” you said and glowered up at him.

You met Changmin on the landing of the second floor and ducked out of the stairwell into the dimly-lit corridor. It was quiet here in the middle of the day, but you could hear the muffled sounds of television programs and voices emanating behind different doors you passed by. The carpet was well-trodden and didn’t kick dust up when you walked, and the overall smell was vaguely fishy and reminiscent of the seafood section of a supermarket.

“Cultural difference,” he replied cheekily. “This is hers, Aunt Jenna’s.” He gestured to the door he stood at with a rusted, gold B29 hanging on its surface just above the peephole.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets. “Anything I should know before going in?”

Changmin paused and his face flashed with realization. It translated roughly, but accurately enough, to ‘Uh oh.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door beat him to it.

Correction: his aunt beat him to it. Or at least, she was who you assumed was his aunt. Her facial features and bone structure weren't similar to Changmin’s at all, but those eyes—dark like the deepest corner of a shadow; engulfing, embracing, enveloping—her eyes were what made familiarity pang in your chest where the soul-knot sat.

Her mouth stretched into a bright smile. “Changmin-ah! And his significant other, isn’t it—or kids these days say partner instead, hm? Don’t be strangers now; come in, come in!”

What did she just say? You have got to be kidding me.

Too overwhelmed to think, you let his aunt usher you and Changmin in through her front door. You threw—chucked—an alarmed glance over at your counterpart, who could only meet your wide eyes with his own. Shoes were exchanged for slippers, and you were guided toward a couch settled in one part of the cozy living space.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aunt Jenna,” you finally managed to say through the heat flaring up your neck and behind your ears. “But I do have to, uhm, correct you.”

Changmin coughed beside you on the couch as his aunt perched on the coffee table across from you both. “She’s not my romantic partner, auntie. Yn’s just a friend.”

You nodded earnestly.

His aunt’s face flickered from that sunny smile to a more somber surprise. She broke into a sheepish sort of laugh, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well how silly of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—I got embarrassingly excited,” she confessed. She addressed Changmin specifically, reaching over to whack his knee, “You used the word for lover when you texted me earlier!”

Changmin’s hands rocketed up as both you and his aunt fixed him with pointed looks. “It was a typo and an honest mistake,” he swore. “I haven’t spoken or written in that demonic dialect in awhile,” he said to you, “and the words for friend and lover are, like, one letter different.”

His mouth had pursed into an unconscious pout, and you reached over to flick him between the eyes. Bone against fingernail, and the dense thunk sound the impact produced was quite satisfying.

“Ow! I'm sorry!”

You turned to a rather amused Aunt Jenna. “I'm sorry I did that in front of you. I swear, I won't make a habit out of it.” That remained to be seen, however. How had you refrained from flicking him for his behavior before this?

She chuckled. “I'm sure he's warranted it more than once. It's nice to meet you, Yn.”

“Likewise. You have a lovely home.”

Changmin held his forehead with his hat now sitting in his lap, and his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “This was the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Do you drink tea, Yn?” his aunt asked you, waving aside her nephew's comment. “I'll make us some tea and we can talk about whatever you both came to discuss.”

Tea was served on an elegant tray made of polished dark wood. The color was a deep red, as if it had been dipped in a vat of blood, and was engraved with images of what you assumed to be flowers with long stems crowned with big, beautiful petals. You nursed a Finding Nemo mug between your palms, gently blowing on the steam that wafted out of the aromatic floral tea.

Just the fragrance of the drink was enough to put you at ease. The muscles and knots in your shoulders loosened, your frown lines smoothed over. You took a gentle sip and savored the tangible warmth that streamed down your throat and into your stomach.

You nodded to Aunt Jenna who's dark eyes gleamed knowingly over the rim of her mug. “That's very good,” you said.

“Isn't it? Would you like to take some home?”

Changmin harrumphed from beside you after taking a hulking gulp of his own drink. “Guys, please.”

“Mm yes, yes.” Aunt Jenna waved her free hand flippantly. “Your problem.”

While Jenna had prepared the tea, you and Changmin explained to her how your souls became tied together. Most of the explanation consisted of specific details of the ritual itself, not the circumstances before. You described the physical sensations on your end, and Changmin added in his out-of-body experience.

When your piece was said, it left Aunt Jenna to marinate on all the facts. She took a sip of her drink first. “Well, you're both fools, but you” —she wiggled an accusing finger at her nephew— “especially. How could you be so irresponsible as to let your friends go through with a bargaining ritual?”

Changmin grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head like a kicked puppy. “It didn't seem like the end of the world if they wanted to have fun.”

“I suppose,” Jenna muttered, but not without some sympathy. She was a demon living amongst humans, too, after all. “But look where that's gotten you both. There are just far too many unforeseen variables that could have made this situation ten times worse. You and Yn becoming soul-bound is probably the best outcome, frankly.”

You would beg to differ, but you kept your lips stitched together and attached to the rim of your mug.

“But as for undoing it, I'm afraid there aren't many options.”

You detached your mouth from the mug.

You and Changmin exchanged a glance with one another. He asked, “What are our options?”

Aunt Jenna's mouth pursed slightly to form small divots in the sides of her cheeks. “The one most accessible to you is to bargain with another, more powerful demon to take over your bond with Yn.”

“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “That's out of the question.”

“I guessed as much,” she said, taking another sip. “Then it's quite literally impossible—unless you used cursed magic—but even if you didn't care about facing the hellish consequences, gaining access to a Book of the Diabolical is insanely difficult.”

Though you were completely ignorant to almost everything Aunt Jenna was saying, you weren't so ignorant to her message between the lines: you were fucked. Supremely.

Looking over at Changmin only confirmed what you were thinking. There seemed to be a war being waged behind his eyes as he clutched his mug in his lap and glared at a grain in the hardwood floor. This situation was partially your fault and his, and now, the only thing you could do was to drown in the consequences.

You turned to his aunt. “Then how can we live with it?” In your periphery, Changmin's head raised. “I mean, are there techniques to better control this situation, like on both Changmin's end and my end if we can't simply rid ourselves of it?”

Aunt Jenna considered you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There are,” she said. “Control is something very valuable to demons, Yn. I don't know how much Changmin's told you—”

You sent him a thin smile.

“—but mastering your own body is one of the most integral things young demons first learn. If you don't have control over your mind and body, then how could you possibly be trusted to control anything else?”

That made sense, you thought. It was a thoughtful principle, too, that others (humans) could learn from. What other parts of demon culture and values were there that these two would be willing to share with you?

Jenna had finished her cup of tea by now and set her empty mug back onto the tray. “So the easiest way, I think, to safeguard yourselves against one another is to strengthen your minds.”

What exactly Aunt Jenna had in mind was meditation. Because you were human and couldn't exactly perform the same demonic energy rituals and mind exercises that Jenna and Changmin could, meditation was the next best group activity. In order to do this, Jenna shut all of the curtains and sealed the living room off from the outside world. The coffee table and sofa were shoved to the edges of the room, while the empty space was occupied by three bath towels and a Bath and Body Works candle.

It was reminiscent of the ritual from That Night, but your heart rate sat a little more stable with the belief that you were in capable hands this time.

The three of you arranged yourselves in a loose triangle around the lit candle, its small flame shuddering at the force of your breaths.

“You can place your hands wherever you're most comfortable,” Aunt Jenna said lowly, softly—a vocal embodiment of the small head of fire upon the candle. “Sit up straight, close your eyes, and breathe in deep… let the darkness envelope you.”

There weren't many moments when you considered yourself petty, salty, or bitter. But at this very moment, you were most certainly all three at once.

“Are you really still mad that you fell asleep?” The question was posed with as much audacity as there was incredulity in his voice.

You didn't have to direct your glaring eyes at Changmin for him to feel the edge. “It was embarrassing,” you grumbled.

“Aw, it's okay. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to meditate.”

And you do? you wanted to snap back like a five year old. Instead, you tightened your grip on the steering wheel and focused on not steering the two of you off the road. “I will literally ditch you on the highway.”

He leaned his head against the window to watch you with a twinkle in his eyes and a toothy grin on his lips. “And I will literally haunt you in your sleep.”

The pair of you were in the car driving back up to the university. You had just left Aunt Jenna's about fifteen minutes ago after the failed meditation session (for you) and her insisting you both stayed for lunch. With your stomachs full and your heads quite literally empty, there was nothing left to do but to return home.

There had been a moment before you both left when Jenna pulled Changmin aside to have a private conversation. You had lingered outside the apartment door, but couldn't hear anything despite it being left slightly ajar. There must have been some crazy soundproofing done on her apartment. A charm, perhaps?

But when Changmin came to join you, you picked up the tail end of their talk. It had to do with Changmin pleading with her not to tell his mom about what happened; Aunt Jenna would only agree if he promised to babysit her kids next week.

That thought made you smile to yourself even through the cloud of salty pettiness in your vision. What was Changmin like around kids? The guy was rather childish himself, but… you wouldn't deny that he would probably be good—

“What are you smiling about?” he mused as he peered out from under the brim of his cap. He reclined his seat back a little and crossed his arms over his chest, settling himself in for the ride back.

You scoffed and forced the smile away. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He hummed. “Methinks it was about me,” he teased and tugged his cap further over his eyes so even his mouth was barely visible. At your silence, he murmured, “Also, I hope you're not bothered about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—the fact that you weren't able to meditate. And,” he added quickly, “I'm not trying to make fun of you. It's just that that was the only way Aunt Jenna could think that you could safeguard yourself against me. I'm gonna be really good about this, Yn, I swear. I don't—y’know, I don't want anything to change between us.”

Ah. Well, since his hat was over his eyes, you allowed your smile to slip back into place. The weight in your chest was warm, a comforting sort of tightness. You were gradually getting more accustomed to its presence, and at this particular moment, you were glad to be aware of it.

“I believe you,” you said to him. “And I don't want anything to change between us either.” You were friends before the ritual, and you would continue to be friends after it.

You were content with being accompanied by your thoughts and the radio for the remainder of the ride. Your companion in the passenger seat had drifted to sleep at some point when the highways began to grow rather congested with the early afternoon traffic. Changmin had a dance rehearsal in a couple hours, which gave some leeway as to what time you needed to get him back by.

By the time you hit the university district, the sun perched lower in a sky spotted with cirrus clouds, wispy and drifting in the autumn breeze. The filter it cast over the world was a mute gold, warm.

Changmin peered out his side window as you navigated through the busy streets, his face nearly pressed up against the glass because his cap was turned around. There was far too much foot traffic at three in the afternoon, but it was unfortunately a popular time to be out and about for students on a Monday. “Could you drop me off at the sandwich shop on the corner over there?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly from disuse. He inclined his chin further down the block, and you had enough time to switch lanes.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, glancing over at him. “You don’t want me to drop you off straight at the dance hall?”

“Nah, I’ve got a couple hours, so I think I’m gonna get another bite to eat first.” He rummaged around in the bag at his feet, double checking that he had brought along everything he needed. “D’you wanna…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head up toward you.

You hummed in question and furrowed your brows in concentration to direct your car into a parking spot along the curb.

“Did you wanna come in with me? I don’t know what your plans are after this.” Changmin had one foot out the door, but the rest of his body remained here with you, in the car, as if hesitant to leave just yet. With the brim of his cap turned around, you could better see his face, the hair pushed out of his dark eyes. There was a small smile seated upon his lips, hopeful in the way it curved into his cheeks in the way you always found slightly endearing.

Your hand lingered by your seatbelt. What were your plans after this? Nothing, right? “I mean, if you don—”

“Yn, is that you?”

The voice and the interruption elicited similar jolts from both of you. Your head whipped around on instinct to locate the person who had called out to you.

Crossing the street to you now was Lee Chan. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waved a hand at you when he caught your eye. But they flickered away from you to someone behind you—Changmin straightened to his full height, his head appearing over the roof of the car.

You glanced back at your counterpart. That smile, so boyish and innocent, had grown an edge.

“Thanks for the ride, Yn,” Changmin said to you, ducking his head to address you. He reached into the car so he could clasp your hand, his fingers clutching yours as he stole your gaze away… they lingered. “I’ll talk to you later, hm?”

You nodded, unsure why you were so dumbfounded. “Yeah, sure,” you stammered out. “I had fun today.”

“Same.” And there was that smile again. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it had softened out at the corners. With a final raise of his hand, he shut your passenger door and jogged off toward the shop.

You blinked as air suddenly filled your lungs again. Had you been holding your breath the whole time? You forgot to wish him a good rehearsal.

A knock on your window had you swiveling your head around. Chan grinned as you rolled your window down. “Hey, what’ve you been up to?”

Not a mention of Changmin, you noted. You were aware of Changmin and Chan’s dislike for one another, and though it caused you a torrent of internal conflict, there was nothing that you could do about it. If they were unwilling to talk about it with each other or with you, then there was no use. Both of them were important figures in your life, so it was just as important that you could keep them both—was that selfish? It seemed that they were able to somewhat coexist, however, if they participated on the same dance team. How did that even work out?

“I was out with Changmin for most of the day,” you said. “We were just… y’know, visiting a relative of his downtown.” There was no harm in saying that, right?

Chan’s expression didn’t even shudder. “Oh? I didn’t know he had relatives downtown.”

Of course, you didn’t. You appreciated that he tried to be civil about Changmin around you, but sometimes the pretense was more aggravating than the petty disdain. “Yeah, they were really nice. We drank tea and chatted a bit.”

“Glad it was a chill time,” he smiled. “Ah, speaking of—I was wondering if you wanted to go visit Chaeyoung noona with me sometime this week? I've been trying to figure out the best time to go see her before midterms.”

You brightened at the mention of Chan's older sister. Though his parents had passed away before Chan graduated high school, he was supported mostly by his older sister, Chaeyoung. You'd heard and seen for yourself the chronic illness that she was cursed with, however. There had been a decent stretch in time when her situation looked much better, but recently, she had been forced back into long-term care at the hospital.

“Yeah, definitely! It'll be nice to see her after so long. Just text me and let me know what day you decide.” The last time you saw Chaeyoung was probably at the start of the past summer break when you went home to see your parents with Chan. Though you and Chan were around the same age, he acted more as an older brother figure to you, likely because of Chaeyoung's good influence.

The golden hour sun glinted its rays into your eyes, and you were reminded of the time. “Oh, don’t you have dance practice soon? Need a ride over?”

“Yeah, I do, but I don’t need a ride,” he said. “I was about to meet Vernon in the cafe down the street though. Do you wanna come with?”

The idea of accepting his invitation crossed your mind, but the ache in your legs and at the nape of your neck were suddenly a lot more prominent than before. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. “Not this time; I think I'm a little tired. Thanks for the invite, though!”

He pressed his mouth together in slight disappointment, but waved it away with a casual hand motion. “Of course. Drive home safe, then.”

“I will. Have a good time, Chan.”

Chan returned the sentiment back to you, but instead of leaving right away, his lips parted another time. He paused, concern gleaming in his eyes—or was that the setting sun? You couldn’t tell the difference, but there was something he couldn’t quite articulate with words that his facial expression was desperate to reveal to you instead.

You frowned. “Something wrong?”

He let out a small laugh and brushed away the thought. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Are you aware that you've been cursed?

Aunt Jenna's words echoed in Changmin's head ceaselessly throughout the dance rehearsal. They had been subdued slightly when he was asleep in your car earlier, but consciousness tended to surface more nightmares than the unconscious state. Even in the bright light of day, those shadows found a way to creep in and force him into some horrific tunnel vision.

No, he wasn't aware that he'd been cursed. How could he?

Out of everything he thought she pulled him aside for, that was the last thing he expected. The look in her eyes—those dark irises that mirrored his in depth—had been stricken by a grave worry. Those all-knowing eyes, far surpassing his in experience, had taken one look at him coming in through the door and determined something horrible had happened.

A curse?

You haven't been feeling strange lately? She had grasped him by the shoulders, her hands firm in their iron grip. Any strange aches and pains?

The headaches. He told her about the random, spotty headaches that had been plaguing him recently. It hadn't occurred to him at all that they could even be a side effect for a curse.

I've heard some strange things have been going on to the demons in your area. The curse has subsided for now because of your half-humanness, but…

Changmin could fill in the blanks.

His appeal to Aunt Jenna about not telling his mom about any of this included both the soul-bond and the curse. Based on what his aunt told him, there have been demons in this area who have been forced into critical conditions by an energy-stealing curse. That would explain his frequent headaches and his increased exhaustion. Though, the headaches had been on the decline as of late, which coincided with the other part of Jenna's warning.

He was at odds. He couldn't simply sit around and wait for whatever maniac was at large to suddenly stop. He and all the other demons around him were sitting ducks. Worrying about the soul-bond was one thing, but he supposed this now took priority.

Changmin hunched over his bag in one of the darkened corners of the practice room. The lights had been turned down slightly as their four reserved hours drew to a close. It was a hard night, but the sweat, heat, and adrenaline was a delightfully addicting mixture.

Absent-mindedly, he rubbed a palm over his chest. The invisible knot there that linked you to him tightened at the attention. He had made a habit of this over the course of the past few hours; the physical sensation of the string tugging grounded him and kept him from disappearing into his head too much.

Could you feel him on the other end? He was certain you could if he made it obvious. If he tugged just right—

“Ji. I need to talk to you.”

The only sign of surprise Changmin let Lee Chan see was the raising of his eyebrows. “I don't need to talk to you.”

“It's about Yn.”

Changmin's movements froze. He let go of his bag's strap and zippers with a sigh, then straightened up to meet Chan eye to eye. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Yn?” You were his problem now, whether you liked it or not.

Chan's eyes narrowed at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but you need to stop. It was enough that she's friends with you—”

He couldn't help but scoff. What the fuck is he going on about? Changmin's mouth twisted into an incredulous smirk, the points of his canines peering out from under his lip as he jabbed his tongue into his cheek. “I was wondering when you'd finally drop the Nice Guy act.”

“This isn't about me putting up a front,” Chan quipped in hushed tones. He wouldn't have done so if he wanted to make a scene. “This isn't even about us not liking each other. My problem is that you're roping Yn into your—your fucking bullshit.”

Changmin furrowed his brows. “You're being vague and dramatic, Lee Chan. I really don't have the time or the patience for this.”

“I know who you really are, Ji.” In any other context, those words in that order would have made Changmin bark out a laugh.

Changmin shuddered as he sized up Lee Chan in a different light. It was almost funny how perspective could change everything. In the daylight and bright fluorescents, Chan was a model kid with a charming smile and unshakeable charisma. He cared about you and watched over you like a brother. But without the presence of light was when Changmin was most afraid of what he saw. It was not because he was afraid of the dark—the shadows, frankly, were a demon's ally—it was because the dark did something to Chan in the same way blood infested clear water.

Chan's mouth was set in a firm line, and nothing about his facial expression or stance gave even an inkling that he was bluffing.

“I still have no fucking clue what you're talking about,” Changmin replied lowly, scooping his bag up and brushing past Chan.

He went to find Juyeon. The organ in his chest pumped his blood wickedly fast through his system; the blood thundered in his ears, loud and deafening, like an oncoming train. Aunt Jenna was in his head, you were in his chest, Lee Chan was at his back.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

He and Juyeon were out the door in a flash, but Changmin glanced backward—because we always turned toward that which was capable of our demise; that was survival instinct—and he flinched when Chan's eyes caught his again.

Changmin let the door slam behind him as he stole into the cold night. If only the darkness could hide him from whatever just happened.

read part two here (if the link isn't there yet, refresh out of this page and it'll be linked at the top)

permanent taglist 1: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu / fic taglist: @tbzhubrecs

#deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #bjnet #ji changmin x reader #dbn: boyz who bite #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin oneshots #changmin oneshot #ji changmin drabbles #changmin drabble

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churipu · 11 months ago

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hii ive been obsessed with your work lately and I hope ur doing well! make sure not to overwork yourself!! Anyways can u make a nanami headcanon where s/o comes home late because she’s working overtime but forgets to tell him?

COMING HOME LATE TO NANAMI ₊˚⊹

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. none

note. haiii nonniee, thank you so much for appreciating my works. it means so much to me <33 i'm sorry this one took so long and i hope you like it, mwah mwah

i feel like in the relationship, nanami tries to talk you to quit your job before — but you felt like it was kind of unfair if he had to use his money to support you, so you always managed to decline that. even if the male was a bit disappointed at your decision, he didn't want to force you, so he lets you be.

you didn't have a cursed energy; a non-sorcerer. unlike him, you had a simple job of making coffees, alias a barista. the income was not too much, but still enough for the both of you (although nanami always ends up paying for your stuff because he insists).

the job wasn't too tiring, however today was a bit different — the store had gotten a rush hour in the afternoon, not that you were complaining about it as you signed up for the job anyways. and a co-worker had asked you to cover their shift because they had an family emergency.

really, you didn't mind covering for them at all. you were getting an extra for that and it counts — just it meant that you were going to be the closing shift for today, and everyone knows closing up meant it would be a lot of work; especially with the washing, cleaning up, mopping the floors, the coffee machines, everything.

you ended up closing the shop late at night, rushing to your shared apartment with nanami. opening the door in exhaustion, calling out a tired, "i'm home."

"y/n?" nanami appears from the corner, rushing towards you and then cupping your face.

in confusion you blinked at him, wondering what the hell was happening and why was he acting like this?

"you never texted or answered my calls, i was worried," he mumbles out, and it finally dawned upon you that during your shift — it was too busy that you hadn't managed to get to your phone at all. and it was on silent too.

"i'm sorry, baby. i had to cover up for my co-worker's shift, it was my mistake for not telling you," you smiled at him, planting a kiss on his lips.

nanami shook his head, "it's alright, please inform me next time," he kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug, "how was work?"

"you won't believe how busy it is today, surprising. but it was fun, and i'm getting extra paycheck for covering my co-worker's shift!" you marveled out happily, and he gazes down at you fondly, kissing the crown of your head.

"i'm glad then," he mumbles out to you, "if i tell you to stop—"

"still a no from me," you kicked your shoes off and walked towards the living room, sparing him a cheeky smile, "i like working, plus, it's not fair that you have to waste your money for my livings too."

nanami heaves out a sigh, "my money is your money."

but he didn't push on, what mattered is that you enjoy working. nanami will undoubtedly still pay for your things, telling you that you should just save your paychecks incase he goes broke (which will never happen).

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #i love nanami #bye i miss nanami

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monicahar · 2 years ago

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scaramouche is a weird boyfriend.

gn! reader, fluff, reader's a bit oblivious and stupid here with tsun tsun kuni. this is heavily inspired by ch. 81 of horimiya but idk what i wrote...im really thinking of a part 2 in his pov of what HE thinks of you this time.

you liked to think your understood the oh-so mighty balladeer better than most people.

with the big n' bad harbinger image that he's carrying around, it's unfathomably impossible to fully get to know him. it's one of the many advantages you like to use—using your reputation as his famed partner for life to get out of missions and errands you dislike.

it takes quite a toll on your paycheck, but who cares when your boyfriend is rich as hell? though you probably have to risk your entire existence when asking for something from him that's a tad bit expensive—but eh, everything has to come with a price, as they say.

but basically, moral of the story; you know your boyfriend pretty well. easy to piss off, really handsome, all bark and no bite (when it solely comes to you. it obviously isn't the same for your unfortunate fellow co-workers.) also unbelievably wealthy, and most importantly—loves you very very much. (he'd sooner slit his throat and dive off a cliff than to outwardly admit it though! he's just that shy! silly him 😜)

yet even though you've memorized and jotted down every aspect of his personality, there are still times you don't get your boyfriend.

though you liked to brag about knowing how he works, you truthfully don't understand enough of his mind's inner workings to be able to comprehend when he does something that throws all your confidence of knowing him out the window.

relatively enough, a good example of this statement is happening before your very eyes right now.

“stop moving, will you?”

hmm, for someone you often associated with a feral cat when it comes to physical contact and affection, he's being rather clingy at the moment. you aren't sure of what to do with your hands, pathetically enough. you fear he might cut off your limbs should you reciprocate...whatever he's doing right now.

unmoving upon the weight nestled in the crook of your neck, you struggle to formulate proper words and thoughts as your hands are awkwardly flailing in the air, not sure if this once in a blue moon display of affection he's giving is a way to non-verbally relay that he wants attention or whatnot...

usually when he wants attention, he'd just pick one of the idiotic things you did today and berate you for it. though it's a weird way of asking for cuddles, you still both end up in each other's arms by the end of the day.

he's not even hugging you or anything, arms hanging by his side as he leans his head on your shoulder, face buried in your neck with his hairtips gently tickle your skin.

unsure of what to do, you just, stand there.

the silence is loud for you, but you're not sure if the same goes for him. the ticking of the clock is a telltale sign that it's been a few minutes or so with him burying his face into your neck like a chick huddling for warmth and protection under its mother's wings, and unfortunately, as nice as it feels for him to initiate contact by himself, your shoulder is horribly getting sore.

“kun—”

before you could even say his full nickname, his head suddenly shoots up, a blank expression painted on his fair face as he stares at the way your eyes blink confusedly.

“i have work to do.” he mutters to himself dazedly, skillfully ignoring the way you tilt your head as if asking him to explain what the hell is up before turning on his heel and making a beeline back to his office, the chime bells of his seemingly mocking you from his lack of provided excuses.

what the...

rolling your shoulders to ease the pain and pressure it gradually collected while supporting the weight of his head, you could only stare down the halls in bewilderment as you're attempting to process what happened just now.

another example of an interspecies act he did also just happened recently.

barging into his office is an almost daily occurrence, proudly walking in with your chin held up high while preparing yourself to rant about your entire day to your busy harbinger boyfriend.

cutely dismissing the fact he always calls you a massive headache for talking his ear out while he's working, you still yap on and on about your uneventful day to him, whether it'd be about some boring lunch with some birds, or an almost death experience to the hands of a mitachurl.

he never openly reacts to your daily shenanigans, only a few eye twitches or deep sighs when you say something particularly disappointing or unamusing which, on the positive side, means he's listening! full and well!

you were prepared for a flurry of insults to be hauled your way the moment you utter that you disgracefully and inconveniently tripped on your way to delivering documents to the doctor, falling face first right at the second harbinger's feet.

you always noticed he seemed a lot more bitter than usual when you mention any of the harbingers, so you kinda expected him to just full blow yell at you when you account this little funny story today of what happened with the doctor.

your eyes nearly fell out of its sockets when he didn't call you stupid or dumb, or an idiot, or whatever demeaning word he has to call you, and instead finally looked up from his desk to frown at you, finally speaking up since the last hour of your nonstop talking.

“did he do anything to you?”

...you've talked about almost dying to a damned humongous chicken on one of your expeditions to sumeru, and this is the topic that catches his immediate worry first and foremost?

it was just a silly prank you pulled out of boredom, wanting to see a reaction from one of the most powerful harbingers! nothing even happened! the doctor just dismissed you with a maniacal laugh, albeit a bit creepy, but he still helped you up!

“he what?”

the lamp on his desk flickers, the electricity around the room becoming more apparent by the second.

were you not supposed to interact with il dottore...?

“forget i said anything...”

gently setting down his quill, he folds his fingers underneath his chin to look at you whilst feigning a rather unsettling smile, an obvious ploy. “oh, no, no. continue.” he nudges in a sing-song tone.

ugh, he's only somehow paying attention to your rant when it's about different people! but doesn't even budge an inch when you say that you've beaten an oni before in a ramen contest. do you know how much of a great feat that is?! he was absolutely destroyed! a product of your successful gluttonous self! that silly yokai never stood a chance!

he glowers at you from his desk. “it's a he as well?”

you knew you had to change the subject fast if the amount of anger seeping from his small being was anything to tell by. “uhh, there was a pink haired lady with us too! she kept flirting with me though, so she didn't really participate in the contest. a huge bummer really, i wanted more opponents!”

—a beat of silence, before the lamp flickers shortly once more.

“she what?”

uhhhh, why is he still angry?

yet another strange phenomenon ensued when he quietly approached you with his chime bells following closely during your training on one sunny day, silently watching you from the sidelines as you fire arrows consecutively at the target multiple feet ahead before you.

rendering all your focus on the target before you, you pull back the string with a certain amount of force and stability—dismissing his presence in the meantime whilst you zero in on the sole red dot in your vision.

whatever has got him burning his stare at your side profile can wait on hold.

huffing to yourself in satisfactory when the arrow's tip diligently digs into the painted wood right at the center of your target, you finally face your scrumptious little gremlin of a lover, unable to stomach the tenacious silence any longer.

“what's up—”

“do you hate me?”

“...?”

good grief. not a good morning, nor a hello, nor some type of greeting he usually accompanies with a venomous insult—but a single question whereas he questions your loyalty and devotion to him as your romantic partner.

you tolerating his entire intolerable existence is already enough of a telltale sign that you like him a smidge lot more than he thinks, right?

you bite down the rude thought in your mouth as you strain a smile towards his direction, confusion still apparent on why he's suddenly asked your opinion of him.

“did you hit your head today, by any chance?” ignoring the glare you're recieving upon the small comment you uttered, you put your bow down on a nearby surface as you worriedly step up to meet his gaze properly. “why are you asking such a question?”

“...”

him being a mouthful is something you don't entirely mind no matter how many people berate you for not finding him annoying in any aspect, but him being so unnervingly silent like this is just plain scary.

you think you're about to melt into a puddle with how intense he gazes at you with his beautiful indigo pools, threatening to consume you whole as he openly ponders about your words.

“so you love me? since you seem to find discomfort in my question?”

“yes...?” you immediately retort as you raise a brow. what's up with him today? he always prided in himself about the love you continuously offer without hesitation, so why is he like this all of a sudden?

“i love you a lot. a heck ton.” you blurt out nothing but truth, “i badly wanna kiss you right now, but i know you don't like it in public so i'm keeping down low.”

he finally peels his gaze off of your face to look at the ground, before flickering up to you once again with an unsure frown, eyeing you weirdly on your shameless confession.

“...okay. that's good.” he replies as his face contorts into a more neutral expression, his voice unnaturally soft and airy. you barely hear him mutter something else under his breath before he swivels around and leaves the training grounds—stunning you greatly on what just transpired.

you always knew he was uh...a bit emotionally detached and all that, but having to question the affection you hold just for him? isn't the fact that you're willing to lick under anyone's boot just to simply talk to him not enough confirmation?

not knowing what to do in this situation, you simply just watch as he slowly escapes your line of sight, observant eyes not missing the slight bounce in his steps.

he's happy, it seems. you giggle to your self at the adorable sight. perhaps you should chase after him and kiss him silly.

from what you've heard, other people's lovers would normally be a lot more nicer and considerate when it comes to their significant others, but that obviously isn't the case with your unique partner.

needless to say, he is a really strange boyfriend. too puzzling for your pretty little brain to fully wrap around yet an enigma you truly couldn't get enough of—fortunately or unfortunately? whatever.

scaramouche is a walking and living contradiction—inconceivably difficult to predict.

he hogs all the blankets at night when you sleep together yet gets mad at you when you catch a cold the next morning,

thinks your cooking is an abominable atrocity yet still consumes them religiously like he currently isn't getting food poisoning,

always makes it his priority to call you 'unsightly' or whatever, only to lightly bonk your head when you actually agree and sulk to yourself about it,

often voices his protest against your kisses and huggie wuggies as you've called them, yet doesn't fight back when you forcibly wrap your arms around him after finally getting enough of his stubbornness,

intensely glares at every person that comes within a two feet radius of your 'personal space', and if you bother to ask him what's wrong—he'd direct his glaring at you as well for some reason,

he refuses to lend you his precious hat every single time when you ask to borrow it, yet shoves it unceremoniously against your face to hide his burning visage from your sight after a particularly flirtatious comment you slipped in,

never verbally returns your 'i love you's during the day, yet he constantly whispers it to you like a mantra when he thinks you're asleep. (does he not want you to know he loves you or something...? anyway let's just pretend not to hear him for his sake.)

scaramouche is a weird boyfriend indeed, but he's yours and yours only. a constant in your life that you'd never give up for the world.

no matter how you look at it, the list seems endless—ceaselessly an infinite of contradictions and complexity carried on his person. he truly lives up to his eccentric title, a strange person indeed...

—but despite him being his grumpy self 24/7, you still find him entertaining and all the more endearing.

whichever person threatened to take him away from you would have to face your gluttonous wrath.

(he looks at you weirdly when you proudly exclaim you'd eat even the gods should they ever lay a hand on him.)

atm i am hungry and i want borgir :( this starved stomach of mine might've slightly influenced how i portrayed reader

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #har❗fiction

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samishin · 11 days ago

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the only thing i disagree with u on is gavin being good at/proud of his job. ive walked past this man at the precinct. i saw how he pretends to be working when someone is around and immediately drops the act & rests his feet on his desk the moment they're outta sight. hes just a slimy bastard who wants to keep having a paycheck, he probably lost any drive he had a while ago.

If you prefer to see him that way, then fair enough. I think he's a character who is only as interesting as you make him, given that he only has like 5 minutes of screen time and the depth they give him in game couldn't fill a teaspoon.😂

For me, I think of him as hardworking and good at his job because his character profile describes him as "ruthlessly ambitious" and that he will do anything to advance his career. I choose to interpret that to mean his job is more important to him than anything else and part of the reason he dislikes Hank so much is because he's an obstacle to that and he thinks he can do Hank's job better. As for him sitting at his desk and pretending to work, I've heard if you watch him long enough that Chris will attempt to help him with his computer that seems to be malfunctioning. My headcanon is that he's waiting for the IT guy to show up and fix it even tho Connor is right there and could probably do it immediately lolol Or he just came out of the breakroom and he's still on break, idk X'D

That's just how I choose to think of him, less flattering interpretations don't bother me tho; he's literally a character that was made to be hated in game. I think a large part of enjoying Gavin as a character is finding/making fandom interpretations you like because if you are only looking in canon you probably aren't going to find many reasons to like him.😆

#ask answered #dbh #gavin reed

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago

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Teenage Woes Part 3

Synopsis: You and Jack finally decide on a fair punishment for the triplets, and they get a rude awakening when they are forced out of their comfort zone.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It had been a week since Jack had gotten his privileges back and he wasted absolutely no time once you had told him. At this point, the triplets were still walking on eggshells around you and in order not to do anything to piss you off, if they had a question they wouldn't ask you unless absolutely necessary.

Jack had convinced you to take a bath and had run the water for you along with lighting a few of your favorite candles and adding your favorite bath bombs. Within five minutes, he was climbing into the tub behind you, and you were surprised that it had taken him that long.

Your head was laying on his chest and the two of you were in a comfortable silence when you broke it by poking his cheek and starting to play with his beard.

"Yes, baby?"

"I've thought long and hard about this and if we agree on this, we can move forward with a proper punishment for them."

"I had been thinking too, but you go first." Jack said while kissing the tip of your nose and you smiled.

"They're going to public school and we are no longer paying for them to go to a private school. That comes with privileges and having the right attitude and being respectful."

"At least for a semester, you agree?"

You slowly nodded your head yes.

"No one is allowed to use their cell phone or drive unless we let them. Axel and Ivy need to get part time jobs and Ivy asked me if babysitting Nova counts even though she's 12. I expected her to ask about Cash and Cam seeing that they're only 6."

"No she didn't ask that…" Jack said while stifling a laugh and looking at you in disbelief and all you did was nod.

"And I have another suggestion." Jack started to say and you nodded for him to go on.

"They give us a percentage of their paycheck every two weeks and we tell them it goes towards bills, but we actually put it in another savings account for them and they can't even touch that one until they're 30."

"Hmm, I like that idea. I can open a new account tomorrow."

"One way or another they are going to learn to respect us and I think that this will be the wake up call that they need."

"I think one of the things that sticks out and pisses me off the most is Axel smoking. Knowing that he had to be intubated multiple times when he was born and has a heart murmur. He's lucky that we even let him play soccer. And has asthma. Like is he trying to put himself in the hospital because I'm convinced that he is. I get that I experimented, well we both did, however we didn't do anything that stupid."

"And remember the time we found weed and he tried to blame it on Urban?" Jack added and all you did was shake your head.

"I swear, I don't recognize my kids anymore. At least the other three act like they have some sense."

"When should we tell them?"

"Well school starts back up next week so I can call tomorrow and get them enrolled and can you be in charge of making sure they find jobs?"

"Of course baby, and they can't work for us either. Because I know Ivy will ask."

"They are in for a rude awakening. We'll tell them tomorrow and if someone disobeys our rules, a disciplinary school is next. Never thought I would say that out loud but here we are."

"I hope we don't get to that point, but if we do, so be it."

"I just checked on all of them and Autumn snuck out again. She's not in her room and I watched the security cameras."

"Hmm, she can have her fun now but come tomorrow she's going to be in for it. I don't even have the energy to yell or argue with them anymore. It's the fact that I'm calm and I admit that's probably the scariest thing that I could be."

"Oh, trust me, I know."

All you did was eye him as he leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you."

"And I love you even when you get on my nerves."

"Was that last part really necessary?" Jack asked as he sucked his teeth, but all you did was laugh.

"Of course it was. Wouldn't be me if I didn't say it."

Jack simply rolled his eyes as he began to kiss down your neck and you knew where this was going.

"You aren't tired yet?" You asked and he immediately shook his head no.

"I've missed out on an entire month and I need to make up for lost time so spread your legs and let me work."

The next morning, you got up early and fixed breakfast for everyone for the first time in about a month and a half. Jack woke up about thirty minutes after you and came down to help you. All you could basically put him in charge of was drinks, but you were still grateful to have his company.

Meanwhile upstairs, the triplets had congregated in Axel's room and they were confused since they heard both of you downstairs and knew that something had to be up.

"She's actually cooking…" Ivy whispered, not actually believing it herself.

"Well maybe she forgives us?" Axel suggested but the girls shook their heads no.

"That's way too easy. She couldn't have and she didn’t even say anything about it either."

"Uncle Urby said she holds grudges like no other and the last thing we want to do is be in the line of fire when she gets pissed off."

"But we're her kids. She can't stay mad at us forever."

"Autumn, you've done enough shit for her to be mad at you for the rest of your life." Axel said and she immediately rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Don't say anything when you cough up a lung knowing that you smoke and have asthma." She quickly fired back as Ivy simply sighed.

Jack suddenly knocked on Axel's door and peeked his head in startling them.

"You three get your brothers and sister and come eat."

"Dad! What is mom up to?" Axel asked and all Jack did was laugh to himself.

"You three will find out soon enough, come on."

The three of them exchanged nervous looks as Jack walked away and went back downstairs.

"Welp, we're all going to die. So it was nice knowing you two." Ivy said before walking out Axel's room to get Nova while Axel went to get his brothers.

Once downstairs, everyone had fixed their plate and was eating at the table when you and Jack were simply eyeing each other making the triplets even more nervous. Ivy quickly caught on with you two exchanging looks and finally asked.

“Um, why are you two looking at each other like that?”

“Babe, you want to tell them?” Jack asked while looking at you as you were sipping on your tea.

“Well, if you insist. Ivy, Axel, Autumn, the oldest of my children who I carried for 33 weeks and had to be resuscitated twice once they cut you out of me even though Autumn claimed that it wasn't a big deal and you all still continue to disrespect me, me and your father have something to tell all of you.”

“Wait…. YOU DIED?” Axel exclaimed since you had actually never told them.

“Not once, but twice. Stay on topic, Axel. And you almost did too, but that's not what this conversation is about." Jack quickly cut in while the girls were looking at you with concern.

“But you never told us that!” Ivy exclaimed and Autumn looked to be upset.

"We need to unpack that because…. WHAT?"

“Another story for another day when the three of you are actually back in my good graces again.”

Nova, Cash, and Cam stopped eating to try and listen in on what was going on with their siblings as they nervously looked on.

“Come next week, the three of you will be going to public school since me and your father are not going to pay for you three to go to private school that has top tier educators and continue to disrespect us so that’s a thing of the past, Ivy and Axel, you two need to get jobs and all three of you will decide which bill you want to contribute to in the house since Autumn already has one. You are not allowed to have your cell phone unless we say so and you can only drive to and from work. If one of you steps a toe out of line, you don’t want to know what is going to come after that because you definitely won’t like it. I do not expect any failing grades either.”

There was only silence for a matter of seconds before you quickly heard their protests.

“PUBLIC SCHOOL?”

“WITH NORMAL PEOPLE!?”

“WE HAVE TO PAY BILLS NOW?!”

“WE HAVE TO RIDE THE BUS TOO?!”

“As long as you live in this house you will abide by our rules and respect them and we aren’t going back on this punishment so you three will have to deal with it.” Jack told them as Ivy simply had her mouth hanging wide open, but her face quickly turned to a look of anger as she looked at Autumn.

“This is all your fault! You told her that we were cut out and not pushed out and looked what happened!” Ivy said while rolling her eyes.

“How is this all my fault? I didn’t tell you to cuss out your teacher!”

“No, but you had to go and be a bitch and be disrespectful to our mother who would do anything for us and you’ve acted out ever since Nova was born because you were jealous that you weren’t the baby anymore!”

“We were only four when she was born!”

“And you still act as if you’re four years old! You almost let Nova fall down the steps ON PURPOSE when she was little and she would have seriously gotten hurt if I didn’t catch her in time! You’ve always been the one to get in trouble and now we’re in trouble right along with you! And always beg daddy to bail you out when you know that you’re in the wrong. You’re so selfish!”

“How am I selfish? I have covered for you plenty of times when you snuck out with Damien!”

“YOU LITERALLY SNUCK OUT LAST NIGHT!”

“YOU TWO, SHUT IT RIGHT NOW! And we do NOT call each other names, Ivy!” You yelled and the two of them instantly went quiet.

“Ivy, when did you sneak out?” Jack asked while looking at her and all she did was stare back at him while picking off her fingernail polish.

“Don’t lie because we have security cameras.” He continued as Autumn was smirking.

“Autumn wipe that smirk off your face. It looks like we now have to make an executive decision. Babe? They do their junior year and entire senior year in public school.”

“Now, wait a second! I was going to be dance captain this year!”

“Autumn, shut your mouth because I’m not waiting for a damn thing and it looks like they’ll have to choose someone else. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes and Ax, you’ve been mighty quiet but let me tell you if we as much catch you smoking or even smell weed on you knowing that you have asthma, you don’t want to know what’s going to happen. The last thing we ever want is you having an asthma attack and getting a call from the hospital because your inhaler didn’t work. We have gotten enough calls from the hospital concerning you to last more than four lifetimes. When you were born you literally couldn’t even breathe on your own.”

“And no boyfriends or girlfriends so NO dating. Open your mouth to talk back to either of us and we’ll ship you off to military school at this very moment. Your choice, so choose wisely. Now enjoy your breakfast while I make a few calls. Jack, the only thing that they can look on their phones for are jobs today. Once they fill out at least five applications, they have to give it back to you. Do you agree?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“We love the three of you very much, but you’ve left us no choice and have brought this on yourselves. I hope this serves as a good lesson to you and maybe just maybe if you three actually stick to being on your best behavior, you’ll slowly start to earn your privileges back.”

“Mommy?” You heard Cash ask and you quickly turned to him.

“Yes, my baby?”

“Can I have more orange juice?”

“Of course you can and Nova and Autumn come in the living room.”

“Am I in trouble?” Nova asked terrified as you poured juice for Cash and you shook your head no. She hated getting in trouble and would always cry when she was younger if she was caught doing something that she wasn’t supposed to do.

“No, just need you for a second.”

The three of you walked into the living room and you gestured for them to sit down.

“Autumn, I am tired of this imaginary competition between you and Nova and it needs to stop at this very moment.”

“I…”

“No, and do not pretend to not know what I’m talking about because Ivy is right. We prepped you as much as we could but I didn’t even know I was pregnant with her because I would have liked to have done a better job. You are now 16 years old and she is 12 and looks up to her big sisters and wants to be like you and Ivy. We love all of you EQUALLY and no one has gotten special treatment at any time. So, do a better job of being a sister to her. I don’t have mine anymore and I wish that I did so the two of you better learn to get along. When me and your dad are not here anymore, all you’re going to have is each other. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She quietly said while looking down at her feet.

“Nova, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“The two of you can go finish eating.”

“Mom, what ever happened to your sister?” Nova quietly asked as she got up from the couch and Autumn went back into the kitchen.

“It’s not important and it’s a story for another day.”

The triplets were three weeks into the school year when all three of them came through the front door and you could tell that Ivy had been crying. Jack was the first one to notice and asked her what was wrong.

“Ivy? What’s going on?”

“I HAVE TO WORK TODAY! WHEN AM I GOING TO FIND TIME TO DO MY HOMEWORK? AND IT’S SO HARD. I HATE PUBLIC SCHOOL.”

“Me and your mother went to public school and we turned out just fine. You’ll be okay.” Jack replied while shrugging and looking at her, when she was quiet, he spoke again.

“I hope you weren’t expecting sympathy from me because if you were, you need to look elsewhere.”

“But…”

Just then you came down the steps and saw how upset she was and asked what had happened.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s fine. Ivy, go get ready for work and you’ll do your homework once you get back.”

“I AM NOT FINE! Mommy can I PLEASE go back to private school? Public school is scary and the food doesn’t taste good and they don’t have Fiji water in the cafeteria and the drama club sucks, and….”

You held up your hand to cut her off and all she did was sigh.

“Give it a chance, bubs. You’re only three weeks in and I have the utmost faith in you.” You said while pinching her cheek and all she did was sigh.

“You two aren’t changing your minds any time soon, are you?” Axel quietly asked while looking at how frustrated his sister was.

“Nope.” Both of you said at the same time and you went to lay in Jack’s lap as you grabbed his phone from him to order food since you had been busy all day and didn’t really have time to sit down.

“If I finish my homework before dinner, can I play on my phone for an hour?" Autumn quietly asked and the two of you simply turned around to look at her.

"Never mind. Can I watch Netflix then?"

"Hmm, what do you think?" Jack asked while looking down at you.

"It's Wednesday. No."

"Anddd there's your answer Autumn. You can read a book instead." Jack said as he looked towards her and all she did was nod her head accepting that as an answer before going upstairs while you scrolled through Jack’s phone.

"You know Nova asked me what happened to my sister a few weeks ago."

"Are you going to tell them?" Jack asked as you handed him his phone for him to add what he wanted to the cart.

"It's not all that important. It's not affecting their lives."

"But it's affecting yours. Not as much as before but it still is."

All you did was shrug.

"No matter how much time has passed and how much she wants to talk to me, I am never giving her the time of day or him for that matter. They knew what they were doing all along for it to come back and kick them in the ass later. She literally will never be in my good graces again. She had more kids other than me so she can focus on them. She literally did drugs while pregnant with me and I was born to addicted to a whole bunch of shit so she can go fuck herself. Anyway, did you add what you wanted? I want a milkshake too."

"I added it. It should be here in an hour."

"Okay. I just want them to understand that when we're not here anymore, all they're going to have is each other and they need to start treating each other better. Especially Autumn and Nova. Nova just kind of brushes it off, but I know it still bothers her. While Autumn can just be downright mean sometimes to her. And the thing is that she had her little jealous phase and I thought she grew out of it, but within the last few months she's doing it again."

"I think because of you telling them that, that they'll come around and be better about it. When I see those two, I get flashbacks of me and Clay and I do not want that happening again. And Autumn has got the message loud and clear now. We aren't putting up with her shit anymore."

"And it won't. In the end, I know that they'll be okay and it will just take a little while for them to get there."

"Now, are you sure we can't make another one?" Jack asked you and you looked up at him like he was crazy.

"Another WHAT?!"

"Um, never mind. I'll ask you later."

"If you are talking about me bringing another person into this world, the answer is no."

"But…"

"We have 3 boys and 3 girls. We are done. My uterus is done. My vagina is done."

"I'll ask you again next week."

All you did was look up to Jack to see him smirking and trying not to laugh and you couldn’t help but to laugh yourself.

"I cannot stand you."

All he did was lean down to kiss you and you continued to laugh as he placed kisses all over your face.

"It's just because you're a damn good mother. Just to watch the way you love and care for them is amazing and I knew from the beginning it was going to be like that, despite what was going on between us."

"Those first two years were hard. Between me wanting to separate from you, postpartum depression, thinking that we were going to have to bury one child, but we're still here."

"We are and thriving despite what may be happening around us."

"I'm so thankful you were able to realize something was wrong with me when that happened." You quietly said as you thought back on it.

"I know you like the back of my hand and inside and out… literally. I know when something is wrong with my baby. But seriously, that scared the absolute shit out of me. Second to their actual birth."

"I can't describe it, but it was a weird feeling. Like an out of body experience you could say."

"And that's why you were nervous to have Nova, scared that it was going to happen again."

"And thankfully it didn't."

"I don't know what I would have done without you and I know I tell you this all the time, but I seriously do not take for granted every single moment I get to have with you. Even if we're having a good day or not. I literally cannot put into words how much I love you."

"The good always outweighs the bad and I love you more than life."

"We can get through anything as long as we have each other."

The triplets were at the top of the steps as they overheard you and Jack talking and if they didn't just feel bad before, they felt even worse now.

They didn't say anything to each other as Ivy went downstairs to ask the both of you for her keys so that she could drive to work.

"Um, can I have my keys please?"

Since you were laying on Jack’s lap, he simply got up, but picked you up along with him with you letting out a yelp and went to get them out of the safe.

"Jackman, you can put me down now." You said as you laughed. He placed you on your feet before handing Ivy her keys.

"Go to work and then come home. No detours because we will find out." Jack told her and she simply nodded before grabbing both of you and pulling you into a hug, startling you both.

"Um, bubs, are you okay?" You quietly asked while hugging her back.

"Yes, I just love you both a whole lot. I have the best parents in the world."

"Oh. Well we love you too." Jack said while looking down at you confused and all you did was shrug.

"I'll see you both when I get back." Was all that she said before she walked out the door and all you and Jack did was look at each other.

"What just happened?" Jack quietly asked while looking at you, but you were at a loss for words.

"I'm not really sure, but I'm not mad at it."

It was now nearing the end of the semester and the triplets had been on their best behavior and following all of the rules that you and Jack had set in place for them.

The both of you knew that their report cards would be sent home today and were hoping for good results.

You were currently in your room looking over possible dresses that Julissa sent over for an upcoming event and you had told her that by the end of the day, you would decide which one you wanted.

Your door was open as Autumn poked her head in and knocked.

"Mommy?"

"I don't even remember the last time you called me that. Is something wrong?" You said while looking at her in the doorway and she quickly shook her head no.

"Then what's going on? And are you just going to stand in the doorway or come in?" You asked her and she quickly came in to sit next to you and simply stared at you.

"I got my report card." She said while handing it to you.

You took it from her and looked it over seeing that she had gotten all A's and B's.

"This is good, bubs. I'm proud of you." You said while looking back up at her and all she did was start to cry.

"Autumn? What's wrong?" You asked while putting her report card on your dresser and hugging her as she cried into your chest.

"I'm such a horrible daughter and sister. My siblings probably hate me."

"What?! No you aren't! And no one in this house hates you!"

"You and daddy have given me so many chances that I really shouldn't have gotten. And Nova does hate me! I've been nothing but mean to her since she was born!"

"Okay, Autumn, you need to breathe. Like I said no one hates you. Nova is just in her own little world, and has a very big heart. You’re her sister that she looks up to and all she wants is for the two of you to get along. I know that she'll forgive you and she wants the two of you to be close."

"And you went through so much to give birth to us and I'm sorry that I ever said that it wasn't a big deal. You died. Twice. And went through postpartum depression and you were going to separate from daddy and…."

"Pause. How did you know that last part?"

"We overheard the two of you talking." She quietly said while looking up at you.

All you did was sigh.

"Autumn Danielle, all six of you are our greatest joy and I wouldn’t change a thing because that's how we got to this point. You've been doing a lot better and all we want is for all of you to be successful, respectful, and responsible, knowing that you can lose everything in a blink of an eye. Just continue to do better, okay?"

"Okay." She said while sniffling and hugging you tighter.

"I love you and I'm sorry if I don't say it enough or don't act like it." Autumn added while playing with her bracelet that you and Jack had bought her for her birthday.

"I love you too and that is never going to change. We are always going to be here for you no matter what."

Just then Axel peeked into the room to see the two of you and made his way in also having his report card in hand.

"Mom?"

"She's occupied! Get your own!" You heard Autumn yell and all you did was laugh.

"What the? She is MY OWN. She was my mother before she was yours! I'm two minutes ahead of you!"

"And I also made it in here before you so you can leave. We were having a moment."

"Autumn, be nice! Ax, let me see the report card."

Once again, you saw all A's and B's.

"I expected nothing less, very proud of you."

"And I haven't smoked and I got your favorite muffins. They're downstairs."

"Oh, I would have known if you smoked anyway. I look at the number of puffs you have left on your inhaler. When you were using it more, you kept saying you needed another one."

"Um…"

"Bubs, I have 24 years on you. I wasn't born yesterday." You said while smirking at him.

"Autumn, move over." Ax said and she scooted over to make more room for him.

"Mom? Can we have tacos later?"

"Text your dad the ingredients that I need."

About two hours later, Jack walked in to see three of his oldest children surrounding you on the bed with all of you knocked out sleeping and all he could do was smile.

All he did was snap a quick picture to show you later.

Hearing his footsteps, you fluttered your eyes open to see your husband smiling at you.

"What?" You asked while smiling back at him and all he did was hand you his phone to look at the picture he took.

"No matter how old they get, they're always going to need us."

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 11 months ago

Note

How does Yves react to jealousy? Wether it is him being jealous or his s/o being jealous…. Cause I mean Yves must have his share fair of admirers

tw: cheating mentions

Part 1/2

It depends on how the relationship between the two of you is defined. He knows he has no right to feel jealous if the two of you haven't officially met or you still see him as an acquaintance. Yves won't stop you from dating others, as long as you're not doing that while in a romantic relationship with him. Because that means you would be breaking the boundaries and promises established, there are close to none if you haven't consented to be his partner.

He knows you more than enough to predict if you want him as your husband or a lifelong platonic companion. There are vastly different rules for either role:

If it's the former, polygamy is a no-go. He will lay his needs on the table on the very first day and the first thing on the list is that he is strictly monogamous, asking him to open up the relationship or for a threesome in the future will hurt him badly and is akin to cheating. Obviously, excessive physical contact with anyone else is considered infidelity, though he allows you to receive hugs and kisses from friends and family members that he trusts, and his trust is not easy to earn. No emotional cheating, he does not want you to have such an intimate connection with anyone else. Yves will express his disapproval if he catches you watching porn or gawking at attractive people on the internet, but he can fix that by making it subconsciously 'boring' for you.

He has no problem with you obsessing over fictional characters, Yves knows that they're not real and he sees them as mere toys for you to play with. He has major issues if you try to turn him into one of your fictitious crushes or your obsession has gotten so severe that it affects your life.

Whereas if you wish to remain friends, or something more special but within the realm of familial, Yves would not interfere if you're involved with someone else. Well, he wouldn't 'interfere' to a certain degree; he wouldn't beg you to leave them for him, he wouldn't try to tarnish their reputation in front of you, he wouldn't even cause a scene at your wedding no matter how much he wanted to shoot your spouse dead. Yves would just watch with an unreadable expression, elegantly crossing his legs and resting his palms on his lap. He would still do something behind the scenes if he thinks you're taking him for granted.

Before even dating your current partner, Yves will ensure that he is the person who is closest to you. He will be the one you would call if things go rough and the first one to know of any major changes in your life, good or bad. You would call him for advice on anything, from something as small as changing the wipers on your car to legal advice. Yves will be your safe space and no one can replace him, ever. Not your parents, your siblings, and definitely not your romantic partner.

You're most likely roommates with him, given the economy now. Living in a jarringly rich neighborhood with him. You feel out of place sometimes, because you're probably a university student struggling to get by or a salary worker living paycheck to paycheck. Yves is kind enough to offer you to stay at his place indefinitely with rent that you can afford.

Perhaps you have your own place, or you live with your parents instead. Or frustratingly, you live at your partner's.

Regardless of your sheltering situation, Yves will more likely act like a monster in law. Arriving uninvited, side-eyeing your spouse for not taking good care of you, every compliment about them is backhanded, bringing in meaningful gifts (i.e., flowers, groceries, freshly baked bread, dinner, food that you have been craving) to outshine your partner's goodwill of the day, subtle jabs that greatly bother your significant other but you don't see a problem with.

You would find yourself defending Yves despite his actions degrading your beloved's self-esteem.

The more serious the relationship, the colder he will be towards them. He will not be aggressively antagonistic, but there is an undeniable air around him that feels like spikes down your partner's throat. He is apathetic to temporary flings and one-night stands, though. Unless he knows they can cause grievous harm to you or carry a disease, Yves will work behind the scenes to eradicate them.

Your partner is afraid of him, and rightfully so. Yves warned him once that he would ruin everything they had if you ever got hurt, either due to direct abuse or negligence on their part. The way he delivered it sent a chill down their spine that they will never forget.

Hurting you includes breaking your heart; so your partner can't leave you without Yves skinning them alive. They can't change their behavior to forcefully make you leave them. God have mercy on them if they ever decide to cheat. Yet, they're subjected to constant terror from this man whom you call your friend if they stay. They're caught between a rock and a hard place. If they're just a regular person, they would have gone clinically insane and Yves takes this chance to wean you off them.

Thankfully though, most of them would be scared off by Yves during the dating phase or your standards became so high that you won't bother losing sleep over another person.

There is an interesting outcome if you happen to be with another Yandere. Again, it depends on their personality.

If they're one of those careless fools who keep you captive, kill your loved ones, and only care about their needs, not your happiness; they're dying of "natural causes" as soon as possible.

Those who are Yves wannabes that stalk you and steal your underwear irks him. He appreciates that they share somewhat similar flavors of love for you, but they are pathetic. They think they know you, but they're not even close to scratching the surface. It's laughable as they try to threaten him behind your back, all Yves would do is stare through them. Ten times out of ten, they would back down out of fear, because they could feel the eldritch horrors writhing under his calm facade.

Pathetic, so pathetic. Yves knows a thousand guaranteed ways he could make them disappear by lunch without any lasting consequence, yet his cheap imitation doesn't even know where Yves is at any given time. They can't even tell that Yves is standing next to them at the bus stop, he just puts his hair in a different hairdo and tries a new makeup look. How are they going to protect you if they're this stupid?

He wouldn't off them immediately though, as long as they're relatively harmless and you're happy, he will let them be.

If it's a rich one with non-negligible influential powers, Yves would keep a closer eye on the both of you. They're certainly a lot more dangerous than the first two, but nowhere near as bad as him. It annoys him that your spouse took up a sizable chunk of his library, but it was necessary to find all their weak points and predict the trend of their behavior. They might have an inkling of who Yves is, but he is still an enigma, the information they have on him is either insufficient or false. They're just as blind as everyone else and Yves always have the upper hand.

They generally wouldn't back down threatening him, though. They think they have their finger wrapped around the world just because of their wealth and connections. Yves was young once, he knows how arrogance flows through the blood of the youth. And so did prideful ignorance.

He would let them think they're winning, their immense big boy/big girl powers are sending Yves running with his tail tucked between his legs. Then, when they least expect it, Yves will scare the crap out of them through various methods. Leaving clear-cut evidence that the entirety of their party is actually working for him, having career and life-ending pieces of information, or simply bypassing all his security and meeting them in their so-called surveillance room.

They would find that all their firearms were unloaded and emergency protocols non-functional. Even the ones that no one else but your spouse knows. Yves knows how to fight, he scoffs at their setup for being so primitive. He would even be offended that your spouse couldn't get your information right.

He would dish out the most ego-wrecking insults while gracefully blocking and dodging their attacks, pointing out their incompetence at gathering data.

Yves would let your spouse exhaust themselves to unconsciousness, deriding them for their terrible physique. Then, he would leave, putting everything together back to normal. He left no trace of him ever being there as if your spouse hallucinated the entire encounter. But they definitely didn't.

He successfully sent a message that he wasn't to be underestimated. They have no idea who they're up against and he will be diplomatic only if they stay in their lane, take good care of you, and make you happy.

However, meeting someone exactly like him, though;

It would be ugly at first. Both Yves and his clone will act a bit more erratic than usual, it can go unnoticed by the untrained eye, but between these two giants? It's war. It's their first time meeting each other's match and their first time losing control over the situation.

They would revert to their default answer to anything threatening their ability to puppet reality: elimination. But both of them are too strong to defeat, so they're stuck in this twisted tango.

Yves couldn't find anything on this person. Even if he did, he knew that the information was a decoy to throw him off his trail, are they even a person? Likewise for your (soon-to-be) spouse, who the hell is Yves? Why has their expertise failed them now? How can it be possible that both of them have the same magnitude of verified information on you, yet neither of them knew about each other until you introduced them?

They both can't believe that they misled each other, making your spouse waste precious data space on your close friend that was entirely fabricated, Yves filling up your spouse's section of the library with a random person whom you never even met.

It's a Mexican Standoff between the two. Upon their "first" meeting with you, all they did was glare daggers at each other while they also suspiciously eyed their drink 'prepared' by you. In the end, neither one had their drink go remotely near their lips.

Until they simultaneously had the idea to lovingly send you off somewhere, maybe asking you to help your partner check on the pie that has been baking in the oven downstairs, fetching Yves a fresh cup of tea, leaving the two intelligence-gathering behemoths alone. Yves's lower eyelid would twitch once when he witnessed them placing an appreciative kiss on your forehead.

They don't mince their words. Telling exactly what they thought of each other, they're not kind thoughts. Once that is out of the way, they acknowledge that they're each other's formidable opponents.

They discuss some more and come to the conclusion that they can't take each other down without somehow unintentionally hurting you in the process. Yves's and your partner's tense shoulders would relax a bit when they realize that their ultimate goal is your joy in living. Trying to eradicate each other is not an efficient or smart use of their resources and your happiness is mutually exclusive to the disappearance of either figure.

Hence, the most logically sound decision was made. It was to work together. Every second spent having to interact in your best interest was agony to either side. However, they cannot deny the immense respect they have for each other despite needing to take some sort of sedative prior to meeting, to prevent accidental strangulations out of fury.

You would be in the dark about what goes on out of your sights. However, you would notice how Yves and your partner are stuck to you even more now. Yves's unannounced presence would be much more prevalent and your partner seems to be clingier than before.

Other than that, life would go on. You have two very scary dogs following you around. You are the world's safest person.

[Part 2]

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

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So, that Birthday Girl fic...could we get a follow-up called Birthday Boy about Reader exploring Eddie's kinks on his birthday? Love you to the moon and back xoxoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Here you go, my friend! It's my first time writing sub!Eddie so I hope I did some justice to this request. I love you toooo!

In the same universe as Birthday Girl

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), oral f receiving, sub!eddie, Dom!reader, I think that’s it?

Words: 3.9k

Eddie never liked to make a big deal out of his birthday, even though he loved to make a whole special day for yours. It didn’t seem fair, so when Eddie told you he didn’t really want anything for his birthday, you just raised an eyebrow at him. You know growing up his family didn’t have a lot of money, meaning celebrating his birthday never came with a big hoopla. But now that you’re older and have both of your paychecks contributing to the comfortable living situation you have in your apartment, it’s time he let you spoil him.

Obviously, you knew his favorite cake was Funfetti and you had all the ingredients ready to make it. Eddie still wouldn’t budge on giving you any gift ideas, though. So, you’ll have to improvise. Shopping at the mall doesn’t really help you at all. The last store to explore is Spencer’s, and you didn’t have a whole lot of hope you’d find something in there for him either. And you’re right, you don’t – but you do get a spark of inspiration when you see a pair of furry handcuffs hanging on a display wrack. The ones that Eddie used as a belt buckle in high school are in your apartment somewhere, probably Eddie’s dresser. Those could come in handy.

Eddie’s not shy, that’s for sure. So you had definitely noticed when he became more subdued whenever the subject of sex came up lately. At first you could just write it off as him having a bad day at work. But when it happens a second and third time, you know there was something to it. You two were still having sex. A lot of it, actually, and it was really good. But he seemed to clam up whenever it was talked about.

One night as he went to tug your sleep shorts off, you stopped him and asked if he wanted to talk about anything. He looked confused, wondering why this popped into your head while he was trying to undress you. You told him that you noticed how he had been acting and that you wanted to help him. The fact that he seemed embarrassed baffled you. Eddie? Embarrassed? You’d never even heard those two words in the same sentence before.

Finally, though, Eddie opened up and told you what had been on his mind. Sometimes when the two of you brought out the kinkier aspects while you were having sex, Eddie was good at dominating you. Telling you what to do, making you beg, things like that. And he loved doing that, he assured you, but he said that he thought he’d like to try a role reversal and see how it felt for you to be the dominating one.

The fact that Eddie had become quiet over a kink he wanted to explore floored you. This man has never been shy about telling you anything before. But it seemed like this was part of the role he wanted to play in bed. The quiet, timid one who is told what to do and when to do it. And the more you thought about it, the more you liked the idea of it. So, seeing those furry handcuffs at Spencer’s reminded you that you had a whole other gift you could give Eddie for his birthday. You were still determined to find a physical gift, though.

When Eddie comes home from work, you’re ready for him. He walks in the front door of your apartment and rolls out his neck. Teaching guitar brought him immense joy, but having to look down at his student’s fingers on the strings can take a toll on his neck after a long week.

“Babe?” Eddie calls into the apartment. He shrugs his leather jacket off and hangs it on the peg near the door. “You home?”

“Bedroom.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at your tone. It wasn’t you calling out to let him know where you were, it was a demand. He kicks his boots off and heads down the hall. When he pokes his head into your room, he doesn’t see you at first. Then he glimpses you near the closet and steps inside.

“Hey, baby,” he says, but stops short when he sees what you’re wearing. The cropped Corroded Coffin tee is something he’s seen you wearing many times before but seeing you in only that and a black thong has his brain malfunctioning. “Happy birthday to me indeed.”

Determined not to get flustered lest it take away from the domineering effect, you jut your hip out to the side, trying to stave off the heat you feel rising to your cheeks, and hold up your index finger that has Eddie’s handcuffs dangling from it.

Your boyfriend shoots you a smirk and steps forward to take them from you, assuming you’ll be the one confined by them. But with a quick twist of your wrist, you have one of the cuffs securely around Eddie’s wrist.

“Uh, what?” Eddie asks.

“I think you should be the one getting cuffed tonight, birthday boy.” You grab the bottom of his black Dio t-shirt and lift it over his head, assisting him in getting the clanging cuffs untangled from the material as well. When your eyes flicker down to his pants, Eddie takes the hint and rides himself of his jeans and boxers as well. “Bed. Now.”

The immediate change of demeanor in Eddie would be subtle to anyone else, but you notice all the little details that add up to this submissive version of your boyfriend. His chin has tucked in, shoulders slightly hunched, making himself seem smaller as he peers at you from underneath his thick eyelashes. But he still doesn’t move. You take a step closer and yank him forward by the waistband of his jeans. “I said now.”

Eddie turns from you to get on the bed, sitting on the foot of it and looking at you with his wide doe eyes.

“Good boy. Now lay back.” He does as he’s told, and you can’t help but smirk. “Get your ass up there so I can hook the cuffs through the headboard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You wrinkle your nose at the term. It reminds you too much of work.

“I don’t think I like that name, baby.” Eddie obediently raises his arms above his head, and you straddle his hips to secure the cuffs through the wooden slats of the headboard, then lock his other wrist in the metal. “Any other names you might wanna call me?”

Eddie's shy expression and the fact that he looks everywhere but your face tells you that there is.

“Come on, sweetie. Tell me.” When he stays quiet, you lean down and grab a hold of his chin, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I won’t ask again.”

“My goddess,” Eddie squeaks out and the words go straight between your legs.

“Yes,” you say, eyes going wide as you momentarily slip out of the character, admiring the name. How much you’d enjoy being called that. Eddie’s goddess. It’s clear he’s pleased that you like the name as well, his hips wiggling underneath where you’re sitting on top of him.

Leaning down, you press soft kisses along Eddie’s neck. He lets out a content hum and lets his eyes slip closed. You sink your teeth into his skin, causing him to yelp and open his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” you warn him.

“Y-Yes, my goddess,” Eddie says, the black of his eyes swallowing the brown whole.

“Good boy,” you praise, pressing a soft kiss over the bite mark you just left. Climbing off his body, you keep the kisses going lower and lower. You flick your eyes up to make sure Eddie’s still watching you, and he is like the good boy you want him to be. But you notice his teeth digging into his bottom lip. With a frown, you reach up and ease his poor bitten lip free.

“Wanna hear all your pretty noises, birthday boy.”

As if only waiting for your permission, small whines and whimpers start to fall from Eddie as you continue the soft kisses down his body. When you trace your tongue down his happy trail, Eddie’s hips buck.

“I’m sorry,” he’s quick to say. The wide, imploring eyes he’s looking down at you with almost makes you break character and assure him it’s okay. But that’s not what he wants.

“If it happens again, I’m going to stop,” you warn him.

“Yes, my goddess.”

Throwing him another warning look, you pepper light pecks down his shaft, starting to enjoy the feeling of being in charge like this. The sound of the handcuffs rattling against the wooden slats in the headboard has you glancing up to see tears flooding Eddie’s eyes, which has your heart plummeting. He knows you and is able to read your face immediately, so before you can even open your mouth, he speaks.

“Green. Green light,” he assures you.

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you nod, and go back to giving feather light touches to Eddie’s cock. The moment your tongue darts out to lick at the dot of precum beading at the head, his hips snap up again, forcing you to pull your mouth away entirely.

“What did I tell you?” you ask.

“That-That if it happens again, you’ll stop,” he answers sheepishly.

“That’s right, baby.” You sigh and sit back on your heels. “Gonna put you to work now.”

“Work?” he asks, voice wobbling. When thinking of what you could do to make Eddie’s birthday surprise even more special, you recalled one thing that your boyfriend always tried to talk you into doing. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it just made you feel a little self-conscious.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you crawl up his body. “Now you’re just going to have to lay there while you bring me pleasure.”

Eddie’s brow crinkles as he thinks, but when he realizes what you mean, his face lights up. Quickly, he tries to tamper down the joy on his face to stay more in his role.

“You’re going to sit on my face, my goddess?”

“I am. And you’re going to make me cum, right?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding his head emphatically. “I promise, I’ll make you feel so good.”

All you do is raise an eyebrow at him before you strip yourself of your thong and situate yourself, which takes a little maneuvering with his arms secured above his head. Thighs holding your core right above his mouth, you feel the flutter of nerves in your stomach. Your loving boyfriend, as attuned to you as ever, can sense your trepidation.

“Please?” Eddie whimpers. The pure want in his voice has you lowering yourself onto his mouth, his hot tongue instantly gliding between your folds. You grip the headboard for stability, a gasp leaving your lips as Eddie’s sinfully skilled mouth works against your pussy. Knuckles turning white from holding the wood so tightly, you drop your head back and let out a string of moans mixed in with Eddie’s name.

“Fuck, your mouth is perfect,” you say. He hums against you as he flicks his tongue over your clit, and the vibrations send a tantalizing shiver through your body. Eddie’s tongue pulls away and you hear him try to say something against your heat. It makes you giggle, and you raise yourself up.

“Come again?” You smirk at your own double entendre.

“Want you to ride my face, my goddess. Use me.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You lower yourself back to Eddie’s mouth and start to rock your hips forward. When your clit brushes against his nose, sparks flood your vision.

“God, you’re going to make me cum, baby,” you say as you keep rutting against his face. Eddie hums encouragingly beneath you, tongue lapping at your dripping core. “Ah, shit. I’m coming.”

Eddie helps you ride out your orgasm, moaning and licking as your hips finally come to a halt. With panting breaths, you pull yourself off of your boyfriend’s mouth and collapse down next to him. A smile is sewn onto your face as you close your eyes and try to catch your breath. When you turn your head and search for that warm brown gaze that you’re so fond of, you’re greeted by the sight of Eddie’s mouth and chin glistening from your release.

“My goddess, you taste so good.”

Unable to help yourself, you push yourself up on an elbow and lean in to press your mouth against his. The taste of yourself invades your senses as you snake your tongue into his mouth.

“Mm, you’re right,” you hum against his lips. “Now, since you refused to listen to me before, you don’t get my mouth. But lucky for you, I want that big cock inside of me so bad.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see said cock twitch in anticipation. The poor thing has been neglected tonight. You were only touching it briefly before Eddie broke your rule, you were sitting on Eddie’s mouth, nowhere near his dick, and Eddie can’t even touch it himself because he’s cuffed to the bed.

Pushing yourself up, you eye his red, aching dick as it stands proud and tall.

“Your cock is so pretty, Eddie,” you tell him, making it twitch again. A self-satisfied smirk comes to your face as you move yourself down the bed and straddle Eddie’s abdomen, just close enough where his cock brushes up against your back, but not hard enough to provide him with any relief. Looking down at his face, it’s flushed red and pinched into a pout. Softly, you rub a hand up and down his chest. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Say what, my goddess?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over the question.

“That your cock is pretty.”

His face turns even redder and he turns to try and bury his head in his arm. A sharp pinch to his nipple has him turning back to you with a small yelp.

“Look at me. And tell me your cock is pretty.”

“My c-cock is pretty,” Eddie lets out in a breathy moan. His eyes don’t leave yours.

“Again.”

“My cock is pretty.”

“Yes, it is,” you say, a smile curling on your lips. “It’s so pretty and it deserves some attention, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Eddie nods his head, tongue darting out to lick over his lips.

You push yourself back so you’re hovering over his cock, but not touching it at all.

“Tell me, baby,” you purr. “Who makes you feel good?”

“Y-You do, my goddess.”

His reward is you slowly sinking yourself down on his throbbing cock.

Eddie whines, going to bite his lip, but he remembers that you want to hear him, so he just lets the sounds of pleasure flow freely from his mouth. Once you’re fully seated on him, his cock stretching you out in the most delicious way, you brace your hands on his chest and begin to lift your hips. By the way Eddie’s fists are clenched against the headboard and the way his cock is twitching against your walls, you know he’s not going to last long. Might as well have some fun with it, you figure.

“You like it? Feels good?” you ask.

“S’so good,” Eddie says.

“Tell me how it feels, my birthday boy.”

No sound comes from Eddie’s mouth, even though it’s hanging open and his glossy brown eyes are trained on you. He must sense you’re about to scold him, because he starts sputtering out sounds before he can finally manage words.

“Feels so tight,” Eddie moans. “You’re so damn tight, my goddess. So warm. So wet.”

His words have you rocking your hips a little faster, clit rubbing against the patch of coarse dark curls at the bottom of Eddie’s happy trail.

“Tell me again,” you say, eyes slipping closed. “Who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” Eddie says through a whimper. “Only you. You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”

“That’s right,” you say, grinding your hips down harder against Eddie’s. “You’re all mine. You belong to me.”

“I’m yours,” Eddie agrees, eyes slipping closed in pleasure. “All yours.”

“No other pussy can do this. Make you almost cry,” you say, on the verge of taunting.

“Don’t want any other pussy,” Eddie says, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head on the pillow. “Just this perfect pussy. Your perfect pussy, my goddess.”

When Eddie opens his eyes, you can see the fucked out expression on his face. He’s so close, you can feel it.

“Look at me while you come, baby,” you say. Obediently, his eyes lock on yours, and the way his abdominal muscles tighten up under your hands lets you know he’s about to come. Desperate the chase your release at the same time as him, you speed up your hips, the friction against your clit sending you spiraling.

“I’m gonna come too, baby,” you tell him. “Come with me. Like a good boy, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie moans out, nodding as he keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“Okay, sweetheart,” you say, the beginnings of your orgasm crashing over you. “Let go.”

It’s all Eddie needs to hear as his hips stutter up into yours, his warm seed coating your spasming walls. Your bodies keep moving against one another as you ride out the storm. Once you start to feel overstimulated, you still your hips and drop down to Eddie’s chest, both of you panting as you try and catch your breath.

“Holy shit, babe,” Eddie says once he’s able to. “That was so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” you look up at him through your eyelashes. “You liked it? I mean, it was only my first time doing it. So, you can tell me what you liked and didn’t like, and I can do better.”

Instinctively, Eddie goes to cup your face in his hands, but he’s still cuffed to the bedpost.

“Can you let me go?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

“Hmm, what if I lost the key?” you ask with a smirk. The pair of you wince in unison as you pull yourself off of Eddie, both of you sticky from your combined releases

“Then I guess you’ll just have to feed me and bathe me. Doesn’t sound so bad, actually,” Eddie says with a shrug.

You giggle and pull the key out of the top drawer of your nightstand.

“You gotta let me rub your arms, baby,” you say as you unlock the first cuff. Eddie lets out a grateful sigh as he slowly lowers his arm down.

“I’ll never say no to one of your massages,” he says. His other arm falls free from the cuff, and he lets out a small groan as he brings that arm down as well.

Putting the cuffs and key back in their proper drawer, you then turn to your dresser and snatch up your bottle of lotion.

“Ooh, is that the one that smells like chocolate?” he asks.

“Hot cocoa, yes, sir,” you say as you pop open the lid. Eddie scoots back so he’s settled against the headboard as you squeeze a dime sized amount of lotion into your palm.

Eddie’s whole body seems to relax as you work the sweet-smelling lotion over his skin, using your fingers to dig into the sore muscles, trying to stimulate more blood flow there. The moans that leave his lips aren’t sexual, but you can feel a stirring between your legs, nonetheless.

Once that arm is nice and loosened up, you crawl over to Eddie’s other side and have the same treatment to that arm. Eddie’s eyes are closed, and his head is relaxing back against the wall.

“Sleepy, baby?” you ask.

“Not really,” he answers. “You’re just relaxing me.”

“Too relaxed for cake?”

His eyes shoot open at that, turning his head to look you in the eye. “Um, never.” It makes you giggle, and you toss the bottle of lotion onto your dresser.

“Let’s have some of that Funfetti then, baby,” you say, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Just one thing first,” Eddie says as he gets up as well.

“And what’s that?” you ask.

There’s that mischievous glint in his eye again; the one that drives you absolutely wild.

“As much as I love seeing you wearing Corroded Coffin clothes, I like seeing what’s underneath it even more.” He tugs on the bottom of your crop top, and you take the hint to shuck it off. Eddie’s eyes drop immediately to your chest, and it sounds off a round of butterflies in your stomach.

“Now I’m ready for cake,” he says.

He follows you out into the kitchen and watches as you get the cake out of the refrigerator, arranging the multicolored candles on top. You’re careful when lighting them not only because you don’t want your hair to get in the way, but you’re also naked and any wax or fire would hurt like hell.

“Get over here, you,” you say, opening your arms for your boyfriend. He happily slides into your hold, and he rests his head on yours as you sing Happy Birthday to him. He squeezes his eyes closed as he thinks of a wish. Seemingly satisfied with what he’s come up with, Eddie leans in and blows all the candles out in one breath.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, my goddess.”

You giggle at the nickname, your cheeks getting hot.

“Let me give you your present.”

Eddie’s eyes watch your ass the whole time as you walk over to the hall closet. You put the present down on the table next to the cake, and Eddie tilts his head as he inspects the package. It’s about the same dimensions as a pizza box and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if that’s what you bought him for his birthday since he gave you literally no ideas.

His thick fingers tear into the red wrapping paper, discarding it to the other side of your small kitchen table. Well, it’s a box but not a pizza box. Just plain and white, giving no indication about what’s inside. Curiosity no longer willing to be patient, Eddie lifts the lid and ruffles through the few layers of tissue paper. His fingertips grace the material inside and he instantly knows what it is, without even having seen it.

A grin grows on his face as Eddie picks up the article of clothing in his hands, bringing it out of the box and holding it up in front of him. The black leather jacket shines, the gleaming silver buttons catching the light in the kitchen and bouncing it off appliances.

“Do you like it? I know you already have your favorite one, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have two!”

Eddie sets the jacket down on the table, making sure to keep it away from the cake and its messiness. He places a hand on each side of your face and pulls your lips to his.

“I love it. Thank you so, so much, baby.”

“You should try it on,” you tell him.

He picks it back up, inspecting the red lining as he sticks one hand in a sleeve.

“Won’t it look kind of weird that it’s the only thing I’m wearing?” Eddie asks as he slides the other arm through.

“Oh, baby,” you say, taking a step back to admire your beautiful boyfriend clad in only a new leather jacket. “That just makes it even better.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request

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honoviadakai · 11 months ago

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How team Urameshi takes care of a sick person! 🤒

(I’ve been pulling my brains out all day and running a high fever. Instead of you know…seeking medical help outside of a corner store pharmacy…imma let my creative juices flow!)

Cw: mentions of vomiting, flu symptoms, lack of common sense(it’ll make sense when you reach it)

Yusuke:

First off

Why was this the first guy you went to for medical care???

Like he’s not the worst but…

There are better options!

Also, depending on who you are, he might make it worse by accident

Ok so if your a friend, like one of the guys or just someone he’s chill with, just go find an actual doctor

He’s gonna do the bare minimum

But not entirely because he’s lazy

It’s mostly cuz…how the fuck is he supposed to help Jin’s fever when there’s a mini hurricane happening in the room???

Like he can barely take care of a human

How’s he supposed to take care of his demon friends when they’re all different species!?

The best thing he’s gonna do is refer them to Genkai or Kurama

That being said, he does makes an amazing chicken noodle soup!

Everyone gets one big bowl of the stuff when he finds out someone’s sick

Seriously that shit should be labeled as a miracle cure or something

Now if you’re family/a s/o there is a drastic difference

He’s gonna be attentive

But he’s still not gonna know what to do beyond getting antibiotics and soup

So he’s gonna get Kurama, Genkai AND a doctor at the same time

He has faith his friends won’t die from a cold

His family and lover though???

Yeeeeah

He’s gonna internally panic and do what he can to help you recover

It’s a funny dichotomy tbh xD

Kuwabara:

It does not matter who you are to him

You could be a friend, a lover, a family member, a classmate, a coworker, a complete fucking stranger even! Mans ain’t leaving you hanging. Period.

He’s getting all the medicine he can from the pharmacy

He’s making you nice warm soup

If you need to go to the doctor, he’s making the appointment, taking you to the appointment and even attending the appointment with you!

The ONLY difference in who gets what from him is his lover & occasionally his sister get sleepy sick cuddles

His lover is also getting forehead kisses if they ask for it

Yeah, there’s a possibility that he’s gonna get sick later

But he doesn’t care!

You need his help! Repercussions be damned! 😤

Kurama:

This has the funniest dichotomy between friends and lovers 😂

If you’re a friend, he gonna do one of two things

If its just a mild cold, he’ll prescribe some herbal tea he made

You’ll be 100% by tomorrow 👍

If it’s bad like a high fever, he’ll come to your house and be the best doctor you’ve ever had

Like he’s literally a home doctor without the paycheck

Pure professionalism

He comes in, assesses the issues and quickly does everything he can to cure the illness as fast as possible

You’ll be 100% by tomorrow 👍

Now let’s say your family or a lover

He’s at your beck and call 📞 🔔

You want tea? It’s already steeping

You want back rubs? He’s got a rose scented lotion to help ease your aching muscles

You want sleepy cuddles while the meds kick in? Scoot over, he’s cuddling you for the rest of the evening!

He’s low key spoiling you

To be fair…you feel icky, you deserve it!

So just let it happen

You’ll be 100% by tomorrow 👍

…but juuuuust in case…stay in bed till you’re 1000% better 😌

Hiei:

…

Was no one else available???

Is the doctor’s office closed or something???

What chain of events led you to go to Hiei of all people for medical help???????

Like even if you’re his lover…why did you come to him for help on curing the flu????

He doesn’t know what that is!!

Like…if I had to summarize what he’s like when you’re sick….

It’s this

This is the closest to “helpful” he’s gonna be

Especially if you’re his friend/ally

He’s just…not gonna do much…

He’ll maybe go grab Kurama…maybe…

He might just honestly tell him in passing you’re sick and that’s it…

If you’re family or a lover, he’s at least more nice to you

Like he’s actually gonna check up on you

He doesn’t know the first thing about tending to the ill so he’s definitely gonna grab Kurama and basically demand he heals you

He’s not gonna let you out of his sight till he knows you’re 1000% better

He might not be in the same room as you the whole time though

Honestly he might be watching you from a tree a good 5 miles from your house…but he’s still making sure you’re ok

He honestly feels useless so him essentially protecting you is his way of feeling like he’s actually being helpful

Not sure what he’s protecting you from exactly when the virus is already in your body but just let him have it, it’s how he shows he cares

#yu yu hakusho #team urameshi #yusuke urameshi #kuwabara kazuma #Kurama #yoko kurama #shuichi minamino #Hiei #sickness

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woman-of-many-fandoms · 3 months ago

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Honestly though, it must be so weird to work with some people for a few years of your life and for years, decades, later people are shipping you with your co worker.

I'm obviously all for shipping fictional characters, but this is the actors job. Where they get a paycheck. They are literally being paid to act like found family.

Like imagine you worked in an office with some people for 3 years in 2004-2007 and in 2030 people are making clips of you and how in love you look while eating lunch with Carol or saying hi as you both arrived in the parking lot.

I've seen this in pretty much every fandom I've been in. Star Trek, good omens, X men, Marvel. I do not think RDJ has any emotional attachment to Chris Evens or that Shanter really cared about and enjoyed spending time with Nimoy. I'm positive for David Tennant, Good Omens is just his next job and Michael Sheen only likes it because it made him much more well known in the acting world and it'll be easier to get his next gig. Yes Pine and Quinto look like they are actual friends outside of the movies but that is an exception.

Anyway, just my thoughts since I just saw a post of some Trek actors in I'm assuming the late 80s or 90s and people were saying 'how could he not be bi saying stuff like this'. Money, the answer is always money.

edit: OK let me address some of what is in the comments. Do actors say they are friends, sure, and if you want to take that at face value then you are right, they are friends. I personally don't think it counts if you are being paid to do so. And before anyone says anything, no not directly. But they have a whole 'image' to uphold that their income is tied to.

I don't know much about the entertainment industry and don't know why people would want that life but it's .... well, different, is the nice way to say it. My sister's career is considered part of the entertainment industry though she is behind the scenes. (And, side note, even being behind the scenes I've still found photoshopped images someone made of her in her in sexy lingerie ... )

TBF we don't talk that often but I've heard some stories (apparently Bill Nye is more then a bit of a jerk behind closed doors) She's lived in Hollywood 12 years now and there is the face people put out in the public and who they truly are. Yes, we all have a self that we hide (I'm autistic so I know all about masking) but it seems that is pushed to extremes.

I've seen her act like many people's best friends (house parties and giving favors and gifts that I question) and promoting their good name in public then she'll tell me in private some horrible things that person has done to others and how it's just how it works. She house/cat sat for a guy (and sent me views from his balcony, my god it was nice) who I think a lot of people would recognize from TV but their relationship was built on respect for each other careers.

Sure, you can tell me not to base the examples off my sisters stories and, ok fair. But I'd also want to point out - the part of RDJ buying evens a car, I did some math. He has 300 million net worth according to google. I have a salary, not net worth (or a negative one cause of student loans I guess), but it is the equivalent of me buying my co worker a $32 gift assuming the car was 150k. I met a guy who performed in Vegas shows and told me how they've had dinner with (I honestly don't remember if it was Penn or Teller) at their house with their spouses. And private chats ... doesn't really tell me much.

I'm currently seeing a bunch of clips of the main actors for the new Wicked movie saying how each other changed each others lives and it just comes off as more acting to promote the movie to me.

And even with Pine and Quinto , I only gave that one a pass because they said knew each other and got along before being in Trek and even then, eh..

Again, just how I interpret things. I know friend can mean different things to different people and a lot of what I see I don't interpret as friend, I see it as networking. I would absolutely be 'friends' with someone if it helped me make and maintain my multi millions .

#star trek #spirk #stony #ineffable husbands #good omens #robert downey jr #chris pine #chris evans #william shatner #leonard nimoy #michael sheen #david tennant #star trek aos #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #the avengers #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu

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thatgoblin · 11 months ago

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Summary: When John goes on a cattle run, you and Simon get some time to get closer.

Warnings: Past sexual harassment, smooches, cuddles.

“What is she doing?” I mumbled, watching the movie on the TV. “How is that even comfortable to stand like that in heels?”

“I don’t think it is comfortable, Sweetheart,” Simon said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in my lap. “It probably feels like she’s walking on glass. The woman deserves an Oscar for acting through the pain.”

“Really.”

Simon was the only one home with me for a week and a half. John had to haul some cattle across the damn country with a friend, only known as Soap from what I had gathered, of theirs to make sure they got the best prices from a buyer in Texas. I hated that he’d be gone for so long, but I also knew that it meant we’d get a big paycheck and would keep bills at bay another month or two longer. That was something no one really talked about with ranches and farms. There were so many bills ranging from utilities to taxes that you’d think we were making bank with the herefords that we sold. If anything it just barely got us by.

But that was the other thing about owning and working a ranch or a farm. You didn’t do it for the money, you did it because it was what you loved. It was because we loved the life we were living that the money didn’t matter so long as we could make our bills on time. It didn’t leave much room for big vacations or big toys that some, much larger, ranchers had. We didn’t need those though. We were happy spending our evenings together in front of the TV after a long day of working while laying with each other.

It had been nearly three weeks since I’d arrived and I had settled even more. There was no more hiding emotions or ducking affection. I talked out my feelings and even gave my own touches of affection. In getting more comfortable with the two Alphas, I began to let down my guard more and more. To the point that we even walked around in towels. Only towels.

I wasn’t ready to take that next step of plain ol’ nudity, but I did enjoy watching John in his towel that skirted above his knees. He was strong and hairy, his arms and legs covered in dark sandy hair that didn’t do a thing to hide the very solid muscles that let him easily carry Simon around as much as he liked. My favorite part was his belly. It wasn’t flat or chiseled, but a healthy bit of roundness to it while having soft hair trail down to his groin. He looked breathtaking with his freckles from being out in the sun so much, as well as a few scars kissing over his belly and back. On warmer nights like that night, before fall was really taking hold, they’d both sit on the sofa with no shirt on while I was in short shorts and a tank top.

And Simon. That man was much larger than his clothes made him look. Covered in tattoos, not just his arms, he was nearly completely covered from his ankles to his neck His arms and legs were just as thick as John’s were, giving them equal power to pick me up to throw me on their shoulders. I always complained and swatted at them, but I actually didn’t mind. Not that I’d tell either of them that. While emotions were more readily displayed, I was not ready to actually work with my attraction to them. They were handsome Alphas and I was lucky they were just as sweet and caring, but I had never had a romantic partner, let alone kissed anyone.

Until I figured out how to actually go about flirting, I was not going to pursue anything else.

“Do lines like those really work?” I asked, staring at the TV with a frown as an actor gave an actress some cheesy pick up line that she giggled at.

“They might get a laugh at least,” Simon said. “But they don’t really work. I’m sure you’ve heard your fair share of bullshit lines growing up from the Alphas and Betas.”

“I guess,” I said, not really remembering any lines like in the TV show. Usually it had been along the lines of the kids making fun of me for being an Omega, but I would then beat the snot out of them. When I got older, the teasing turned sexual and there wasn’t much courting happening till after high school. Even then, most of the time the Alphas and Betas that tried would just come up to me to say they thought I would be a good Omega for their pack and that we should mate. There wasn’t a lot of romance like the TV shows.

“What’s the worst line you’d ever gotten when someone tried to court you?” Simon asked, turning from the TV to look at me. He shifted in his seat fully to face me, propping his face up on his fist with his elbow on the back of the couch.

“Uh. . . Probably the one I got from Matt Keller in my freshman year of college,” I said. “He basically just told me he wanted to see my stomach swell with his babies.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon groaned, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I broke his nose,” I said with a smirk.

“Good. He deserved worse, but at least you gave him a taste of it,” Simon said with a nod. “Was there any courting that you thought maybe someone could actually be a decent person?”

“Not really. It was a small town and I was the only Omega. Not a lot of people really cared how I felt or what I wanted, so I just ignored just about every person who tried to “court” me because it wasn’t really courting. It was just a proposition to be a mate or the Omega of a pack, which neither interested me and I made sure everyone knew it. Not that it stopped them from continually trying,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t get to go to house parties or prom or sleepovers because I wasn’t allowed to. Partially because my parents didn’t want me to come home knocked up and partially because none of the other parents wanted me around. I always caused trouble by getting in fights, even if it was to defend myself. They didn’t see it as being a proper Omega.”

“So, no magical kiss with a prom date under the stars while necking in the front seat of your El Camino?” Simon asked with a raised brow.

“That’s strangely specific, but no. I did not. I stayed at home and worked on school. It was all I had really and I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to take it away,” I said. “I wanted to work on my dad’s cattle ranch. I wanted to run it, so I didn’t really make time for finding actually good romance or friendships really. . . That’s kinda sad, isn’t it?”

“Naw,” Simon said with a chuckle. “Things have changed. Despite your experience in the small town sphere, Omegas have more freedom of open choices in the bigger cities around the world. You would be able to go to college without Matt Keller giving you that horrific pick up line. Which means, no awkward flirting and courting that is.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, setting the bowl of mostly corn kernels on the floor before moving to put a foot in his lap and letting him do the same with me. Well, my foot was in his lap, half his leg was in mine. The man was long. “No cheesy one-liners from you or John about how you can make my night wild?” I asked with a giggle as I began to rub his foot while he rubbed mine.

“Sweetheart, you’ve seen our wild nights,” Simon said with a smirk. “The most wild we get is changing our sleep spots.”

“Then am I really missing out on anything?” I asked. “I mean, we kinda skipped the whole courting process. Save for being bonded and legally married, there’s not a lot of reason to use those one liners.”

“Would you really want them anyways?” He asked.

“Not really,” I said after a moment of thought. “I’d rather have this honestly. It’s easier and feels like a more solid foundation than just courting a few weeks then bonding. At least this way, I actually get to know you and John and you get to know me. We’re not strangers just forced together because of our sex organs. . . Even if it did kind of start out that way.”

“Do you like what we have going on?” Simon asked, his fingers working my arch. “This whole situation of us together without the sex organs part?”

“I do. I mean, it helps that I don’t have heats, but I figured before this you and John. . . You know, ‘took care of each other’ for that stuff,” I said, looking down at Simon’s foot as my cheeks heated up a bit.

“Now what do you mean by that?” Simon asked, snickering as he tickled the sole of my foot a moment. I nearly kicked him in the face as I gasped and glared.

“Do NOT do that, Simon Riley,” I snapped, jerking my foot back hard. “You know I’m ticklish as hell on my feet! And you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to need you to explain this one to me,” Simon said, giving me a devilish smirk, letting me settle my leg before going back to rubbing my foot. For as serious as he could be sometimes, Simon was a bit of a teaser that would always get me when I wasn’t expecting it.

“You’re seriously making me do this?” I asked with a huff as he wiggled his foot in my hand. “Fine. I assumed before I moved in that you and John. . . Did stuff. . .”

“Like?” Simon asked, egging me on.

“Like sex, okay?” I grunted, rolling my eyes. “I figured you two had sex with each other before this.”

“Was that so hard?” He asked with a grin. “And yes, for the record we did. Still do when you’re busy with something and we’re alone.”

“What!?” I cried. “How!?”

“Well, when one Alpha and another Alpha love each other VERY much-”

“Oh shut up, I know how sex works,” I said, slapping his calf playfully. “I meant how are you having sex and I’m not noticing?”

“You are surprisingly good at focusing on chores and don’t seem to question us spending a lot of time in the barn with the horses,” Simon said with a chuckle.

I sat there in stunned silence as Simon grinned at me. It took a moment for me to soak in the realization of how dopey I felt that I had missed that giant indicator. It all added up and I was none the wiser till Simon had to spell it out for me.

“In case you’re wondering, we made sure that we could work around you till you were ready or if you’d ever be ready,” Simon said, his fingers digging into the ball of my foot to get my attention.

“Ready? For what?” I asked, suddenly finding myself lost and flustered.

“You really don’t know how to flirt or have a conversation about this stuff, do you?” He asked as I kept staring at him with a slight frown.

“About sex? Absolutely not, I was lucky I learned anything from sex ed in school. . . and that’s not what you’re talking about,” I said, groaning as Simon laughed at me finally catching up. “Look, I’m not on the up and up about sex and romance, give me a break.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be nice,” Simon said with a hum. “But as I was saying, we were working around you. We didn’t want to force anything or make you uncomfortable. That didn’t mean we were going to go celibate though.”

“Understandable, if not reminding me how oblivious I can be sometimes,” I said with a nod.

“No problem,” Simon said with a hum. “But now I’m curious, have you ever had sex or fooled around before?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” I said with a snort. “I never understood the appeal of it the way it was shown to me. Rough and claiming, just doing it because of the excuse that it was a base instinct for everyone. I mean, I never wanted to be with someone like that. Someone that only wanted the knot and didn’t care about much else in sex. I’ve read more sex positive books about Omegas and figuring out what worked for them, but I just. . . I didn’t feel safe to experiment with anyone, let alone kiss anyone.”

“Well, if it helps, I know two Alphas who would happily volunteer to help you experiment,” Simon said, raising a brow and smirking. Oh no. Oh fuck no. That was a face of his that I could not look at without blushing because it was plain as day that he was getting ready to get cheeky with John or me.

“I’m sure you do,” I said, clearing my throat to look away towards the TV. My hands idly kept working his foot, but Simon’s hands were being evil. They slowly slid up my calf and began pulling me towards him. I was determined to ignore him though, sitting up straight and rigid as he managed to pull me halfway into his lap after pulling his own foot away. “Can I help you, sir? I’m trying to watch TV,” I said, as he settled me with my back to his chest, keeping my gaze forward and not on Simon.

“I just want to give my friend a hug,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his bare chest. The skin to skin contact felt nice and before I realized it, I was turning my head to scent his chest as I purred. “Have you really never been kissed before?”

“I mean, by relatives,” I said.

“I meant romantically,” Simon sighed softly, looking down and nosing at my hair.

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at him. “Never been kissed. Most I’ve done is with you and John by sleeping in the same bed and holding hands.”

“Would you like to be kissed?” He asked. I had to think about that. It was everywhere on TV, in schools with young couples, people on dates, but I didn’t know if I wanted it.

“What’s it like? Romantically?” I asked, moving to sit in his lap side saddle so I could see him.

“It’s like you’re closer than a hug,” he said, his thumb stroking my arm as he took a moment to think of his words. “It feels nice. It’s as if you’re connecting to the person on a deeper level. It’s hard to describe really.”

“Closer than a hug, but not as close as sex,” I said, trying to help.

“Basically. It’s something you have to experience for yourself. I know that some of my favorite memories of me and John are us kissing. Just kissing. Nothing leading up to anything, just us curled up together like this and kissing. One time we were in line for a concert in the rain and we did our best to wait it out, but the bar closed it off because they were at capacity,” Simon said, looking at the TV as he remembered the details of that night. He had a smile on his face, a fondness of the story he was telling coming through. “We were mad because we had been in line for so long and were on a short leave between our military work, but after a minute it didn’t matter because the place was quickly shut down for being over crowded. Even if we had made it in, we would have still been kicked out.

So, we cut our losses and ran back to the truck. We were both soaking wet and it had to be nearly freezing. After we get into the truck and I turn it on, our heavy breathing fogs up the windows so we have to wait for the heat to kick in. John said something about it being a sign, but I just blew it off. He was more cautious back then. We were. . . Hell, I think we were 23 or so when this happened. I asked him what kind of sign it was. He said it was a sign that we were supposed to be together. Apparently concerts getting canceled and freezing rain meant long love signs,” Simon chuckled.

“We got the truck going, we defrosted, so we headed out. We were probably about 10 minutes from home when the truck slid into a ditch. I was going maybe 20 miles an hour, but the curve of the road had us sliding so slowly that we just sat there holding on as we came to a stop. John said it was another sign, I said he was being stupid, but as we were about to pull back out a lorry truck came sliding past us, barely missing the truck then kept going. John and I sat there for nearly half an hour till the rain had stopped and a salt truck drove by. I managed to get us back on the road and made it home safely.”

“Where’s the kiss?” I asked, frowning. I had been waiting for that part specifically. Was it a rain drenched kiss or maybe one by the fireplace where they laid together to warm up? I was invested and needed to know. “You were telling a story about you and John kissing.”

“Was I?” Simon asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re a horrible man,” I huffed, rolling my eyes at him. He laughed, shaking his head at me before continuing the story.

“We got home, walked inside, looked at each other for a moment before we held each other close. It was our first real date and our first real brush with death off the battlefield,” Simon said after a few beats of silence. I knew they were retired military, it wasn’t hard to figure that out after seeing dog tags and the gear they had with them. But I never asked about their time in the service or pushed about it. I thought that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. “We kissed each other when we laid in bed, holding on to one another like we might drift away. There had been kisses before, but that one. . . That was our first kiss as a couple. We were together for the first time officially and weren’t hiding it.”

“That’s really sweet,” I said, smiling at him. “It was a relief for you both, then. The kiss, that is. After everything, you could still kiss one another.”

“I guess you’re right,” Simon said, that fondness back in his face. “I kiss him good morning and goodnight every day, but those small moments are my favorite.”

“I want that,” I said, looking forward as I rested my head on his chest. “Small moments of connection with someone. I want that.”

“That’s something that John and I can offer you, if you want it from us,” Simon said, nuzzling the top of my head. “We want to give you that. We want to be that for you.”

It was another door to step through, a choice to make on where I wanted this relationship to go. I wanted it. I wanted them.

Looking up, I nosed at Simon’s cheek as I moved to straddle his lap. We went slow, his arms holding me as I shook a little. Scared and excited as we just shared the same space.

“I’ve gotcha, Sweetheart,” Simon said softly before he pressed his lips to mine.

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contentloadingandstuff · 2 years ago

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Parent headcanons - Sara, Ei and Lisa

Characters: Kujou Sara // Raiden Ei // Lisa Minci

Genre: Fluff

Note: I felt like writing some fluff, as I tend to neglect it a lot. So I made a randomizer with characters from the game, and spun it. I tagged it as 'male reader', but can be easily read as GN reader.

Here's my attempt at some fluffy headcanons :p

//Kujou Sara\\

First of all, congratulations for convincing her to have children in the first place.

Sara never got to experience any warm, parental love, and as such has trouble offering it. She has the instincts, sure, but her affections come out as awkward most of the time.

Looks to you for support when your child has any emotional issues.

Sara, being raised in a very conservative and tradition-focused society, has a solid view on how a family should look like. She most likely would like to have a son and a daughter.

May try to push her son towards a military career, and her daughter to the shrine, as tradition says. If they don't want such a future, she will try to get you involved. Please, explain to her that there are other ways in life than what society says! She will step down a fair bit if you support your children.

Will most likely try to pursue the traditional role of a mother while on parental leave, but will soon understand it's just not for her. She is a busy woman, used to constant action and the military routine. Sara hopes you are alright with providing the quality time and the emotional support she can't.

Doesn't mean she won't try to show her love, obviously.

Her motherly love shows mostly through acts of service.

If there is anything she can help with, she will do it. Even if her duties call, Sara will make sure to put them on second priority, or just hand them over to her subordinates.

That is aside from academic help. Sara recieved an education, but is not very eager to sit through it again. So help the bird-lady, alright?

Gifts are the second language of love, as her sizable paycheck allows it. Expansive clothing, rare foods, books and high quality toys, as well as others. They are not always on-point, but her children will surely appreciate the gesture.

Is the strict, somewhat scary mom. You'll most likely take on the role of the lenient, fun parent to balance it.

Bullies? What bullies? If anyone will be stupid enough to raise their hand on her son or daughter, their parents will go through absolute hell until they come on their knees to her, begging for forgiveness.

If her children will inherit her Tengu blood, she will help them tend to their wings and teach them how to fly.

She is loyal to the Shogun, but after enough time will rethink her priorities.

Now that she has a family, a real one, to return to, she will rethink the whole 'leading the charge' thing as well. Commanding from the back seat is not for her, so she will take to staying on the sidelines instead.

That said, her zeal will increase. She is now not only fighting for the safety of her ideals and the Shogun, but also her own family.

Overall, a 6/10 mother. She is not very good at this, but she tries her best.

// Raiden Ei \\

Ei would only have a child with someone similar to her - a god. She has lost so many people in the past, and she just couldn't afford to see her partner wither away, and outlive her children (I assume demigods live shorter).

If Ei were to meet her love before the Archon war, she would be a completely different person nowadays. With someone to help her cope, the isolation and Vision Hunt Decree would just not have happened. But, for this scenario, let's assume you met her after the Inazuma story quests.

She will take her time starting a family. Raiden Ei has a lot of issues to work through, but the healing process will be faster if you will be there by her side.

Ever since her childhood, between all the fighting and bloodshed, she entertained the thought of having children at first, but the image of her own family grew more and more distant the more she fought. Soon, it was completely forgotten. It was you who reawakened the desire in her.

Ei was split between wanting to have one child to devote her love and affection to, and having multiple. She came to the conclusion that one son or daughter would be lonely by themselves, so two children will be her dream.

Her role may make her out as very busy, but personally I think that's not the case at all. With the Tri-commission to do all the work, Ei only needs to approve existing ideas and solutions, and propose new ones every now and then. That leaves her with lots of free time.

Wanting to devote full attention to her little ones, she will ask you to take over most of her duties. She will still take part in the most important discussions, but will avoid exhausting herself. You, being the loving and understanding partner, will gladly help her.

To say your heirs would be spoiled would be like saying nothing. Being the children of the leaders of a powerful nation certainly has lots of perks.

Ei will not hesitate to indulge her children in luxuries and expansive entertainments, like food or toys. You may want to keep an eye on her though - she will forget that her children have actual bodies to keep clean of cavities.

Gift giving, physical affection, quality time - Ei will try to give everything she has in store.

She will often get confused at modern things, looking up to you for guidance. She will learn eventually, but it's all still quite new to her.

Auntie Miko will make frequent visits, if only to tease her friend and play with the youth. A friendship will form between them, and Miko will get into all sorts of predicaments with them when they grow up.

The Plane of Euthymia will become brighter and more lively when she takes her children there.

When it comes to roles, Ei will be the helpful and loving type, who can annihilate her enemies one second and wash her child's hair the next.

The roles of fun and serious will be split between you two.

When it comes to jobs for her heirs, Ei will do her best to not let them experience the same things she did - which means keeping them as far away as possible from the military and politics.

If anyone dares to pick on her joys, they will be gone in a flash, leaving only a black stain on the ground to remember them by.

In summary, 8/10. Tries hard, and gets the results. Gives her little ones all the attention and love she can muster.

// Lisa Minci \\

It was a hard decision for her to make.

Since becoming aware of her incoming mortality, she wanted nothing more than to live her life to the fullest. That includes trying out new things, drinking tea, dating and having a family.

But, on the other hand, when she will die, she will leave you alone with your kid.

Lisa ultimately decided to take the risk, but agreed to have only one child with you in mind.

Has no preference over their sex.

Her comfy job at the library puts no stress on neither her mind nor her body, so the pregnancy will go without issue. Her maternity leave will be relatively short, and she will often visit the headquarters to escape from her little ones and get some actual sleep do her duties, of course.

Lisa is going to cherish every moment she is granted with you and her children.

Quality time is her absolute favorite, mixed with constant words of affirmation.

Lots of walks, lots of picnics, game nights, cooking together or any other imaginable activity (appropriate for the kids' age that is) are frequent.

Insistent on eating every meal together.

Will hog most of the time and attention of her kids.

Will spoil them to the limit, leaving you to take the hit and be the serious one.

Lisa would still be very helpful, especially in academic troubles.

The mage would take a lot of pictures, and hang them on every accessible surface. Every memory worthy of immortalizing must be made such. Not for her, but for you and the kid to remember.

She has no delusions that she will live long enough to see her joys go to work - she would like to, no doubt, but it's a foolish hope. That said, her heir's role in the world is up to them to choose.

Will insist on sleeping together, sandwiching the kid in between you. It's the best position to be in, being able to hold the people that made her the happiest woman in Teyvat as she drifts off to sleep. That is where she would like to pass away.

Will offer words of wisdom and book recommendations when the kid grows up enough to understand her.

As painful as that will be, she will try her best to hide any symptoms of dying. Lisa just... doesn't want to see you or them distressed over her state.

Will make life difficult for any bullies that might surface, maybe going as far as to dish out the punishment with her Electro vision herself.

A stellar mother. 10/10. Cherish her while she lasts.

Thanks for reading!

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ourladyofoldgotham · 1 year ago

Text

right person (wrong time)

cillian murphy x male reader

NSFW 18+, minors dni

lovers to strangers to lovers, angst to fluff, smut

requested by @joy-dwaekki

3.5k words

summary

It's been thirty years since you last saw Cillian Murphy. When you reconnect at a film premiere, it brings up more than you expected.

It’s been decades. A life lived, oceans crossed.

You see him across the room and it’s like none of them ever existed.

In an instant, you’re swept back across time and oceans to land right back in that Cork apartment watching him leave.

The thing was that it was never supposed to end like this. Or at all. The two of you had plans together - plans that spanned the rest of your lives. He was going to be a rockstar. You were going to be an actor. In the back of your head, you thought you would be young forever. You’d always considered yourself a hopeless romantic, always given over to spinning tall tales about your future, but this was different. You thought it was different.

The two of you met at 19. You see him up on stage, the lights behind him like a halo, and suddenly you’re the only person in the crowded audience when his blue eyes meet yours. It was a whirlwind. He’d never been with another man before, and neither had you, but you learned together. You can see it clear as day still - a dimmed room, bouncing between your shitty apartment and his. His hands on your body, wide blue eyes and a flush creeping up along his freckled chest.

You should have seen it start to go downhill by August, ten months in. He turns down the record deal- five whole albums. He gives you a million excuses - his brother’s still in school, it’s not enough money for the rights. You know better. You see the way he pulls his hands back from you in front of everyone else. He can’t commit to you - to music, to the lives you built together - because it means losing everything else. If you didn’t love him so much you’d hate him for it. As it is, you aren’t sure.

That September, he went back to school. Law. You call him a sellout, joking around, but there’s something hollow behind his eyes. He won’t meet your gaze when he holds you anymore. You don’t even remember what the fight was about, now, but you know it was inevitable. It’s colder than your fights usually are - there’s no passion, only your anger and helplessness against a blank stone wall. You yell that if he doesn’t want to be with you, he should just go.

You watch him slam the door behind him as he goes. You hadn’t seen him since - until now.

That December, you’d set off for America. There was nothing left for you at home. In the glitz and glamor of Hollywood, you’d built a life of your own. You met a girl in a bar, then divorced her. You bought a house, even if the roof leaked during the occasional rainstorm. You got a few parts and then found your true love in writing, working as a film critic. You weren’t a big name, but you paid the bills and had a little extra. All through it all, you’d remembered him. You saw the little tidbits in the papers as he became a rising star- first in little theater productions, and then indie movies, and then bonafide blockbusters. You’d always managed to skirt around reviewing him, although it got harder when he started rising internationally. It had killed you to not review The Wind That Shakes The Barley - you hadn’t been back to Cork in ten years, but it would always have a piece of your heart - and you’re sure you missed out on a good few paychecks refusing to review Peaky Blinders at peak virality. Still, you could never bring yourself to do it. It wouldn’t be fair, you reasoned, to judge the acting of a scorned ex-lover. Nevermind that you could have never hated him. Whether your heart skipped a beat when you saw him due to anger or love, you were biased. Of course, your game of keep-away couldn’t last forever.

Oppenheimer was a cinematic groundbreaker. Nolan had brought practical effect film biopics back to the international spotlight like never before. It was a true masterwork, one that got the world talking. Of course, that meant that it was unavoidable for you. You were invited to the LA premiere, which meant not only poring over trailers and historical biographies but looking into the backstories of the main cast. You had a little experience with a couple other major members - you’d brushed with them at other premieres you’d worked - but you’d avoided everything Cillian you possibly could for years. Now, you had to dive headfirst into all of it. The first thing you learned about him was that he had a wife. Her name had been Yvonne - he’d met her at a show in ‘96, he said. It was just a couple months after the two of you had split up. You recognized her name vaguely. She’d been an artist, the mother of his two teenage sons. She seemed kind - just the kind of girl you’d have expected him to fall for. You wondered if he had ever told her about you. The second thing you learned was that had, in his case, was past-tense. She’d passed on a couple years back. He’d never talked about it in interviews much. He wasn’t one for publicity.

It was a bog-standard premiere as far as these things went. Red carpet, flashing cameras. You weren’t a star and you didn’t intend to be one, so you laid low. It was a good movie, you got a couple decent soundbites. The afterparty was one of the nicer ones you’d been to- quiet and contemplative in a dim hotel ballroom. You hear the delicate shatter of glass on hardwood behind you suddenly, and when you turn to look, his eyes are fixed on you. Haunted. You could never decide whether you were hoping he’d have forgotten you or whether it would have broken your heart if he had. It’s clear he hasn’t forgotten you, but you can’t tell whether he wants to remember. The moment slips away soon - he brushes it off to his castmates as a slip of the hand, nothing serious really, just a moment of clumsiness.

You have your answer. You turn back to the circle you’re chatting with, down the rest of your champagne, and don’t meet his gaze the rest of the night.

It’s not until you’re leaving at the end of the night that you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and there he is. He looks as handsome as he did the day he left, the boyish charm turning to something more distinguished. Tired, and thin, and gone greyer than you, but he’s still your Cillian from all those years ago. Something in your heart that’s been waiting for a long, long time starts to melt.

“Hi - I just wanted to say hello. You look sort of familiar, I thought I might know you.”

He’s tense, poised under a mask of perfect civility. You respond in kind.

“You might - I lived in Cork for a while. You’re from Ireland, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I grew up near Cork. I think I might have run into you back when I was doing music.”

“I think you might have. A good couple of times, actually.”

The night is cool for a Los Angeles summer. The streetlights shine gold down into the dim night. The question hangs in the air for a moment before you ask it.

“What do you remember?”

He pauses, the air still and heavy.

“I remember the north train we used to take on the weekends to the cities. I remember you wanted to be an actor. I remember you were my -” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I remember you were my best friend.”

“Yeah. Your best friend.”

You turn away, your jaw clenched and start to walk away.

“I think I should head home. It’s late. It was nice catching up.”

You get to the bottom of the stairs before he speaks again.

“I never forgot, you know. I never forgot any of it. I couldn’t. I tried.”

He follows you down the stairs, leaving the milieu of the party behind. The two of you are standing on the sidewalk. The street is the quietest you’ve ever heard this city be.

“When I saw you tonight, it was like seeing a ghost. I had no idea you’d be here. But I knew you were in the city. I tried to find you. I… I needed to see you again.”

“Why now?”

“I…”

He takes a deep breath. You didn’t notice until now how tense he is. How frail he’s become. How quickly your youths have passed you by.

“I married a girl I met the month after I left. Her name was Yvonne. I told her everything. I loved her too much not to. She’s…”

He’s hesitant to say it. You see him twist his wedding band, still on his finger.

“She passed away. A couple years ago. She said I should find you. She thought… She thought I would need you when she was gone. I threw myself into my work, but she was right. When they told me I was going to LA for the premiere, it felt like a sign. I don’t think I ever stopped needing you.”

He reaches his hand to the halfway point between the two of you. Your hands remain at your sides.

“I always waited for you, you know that? I never loved anyone else. I met a girl in a bar twenty years ago that I could have loved for the rest of my life, and I broke her heart. You know why? Because of you. I can’t do it like this, Cillian. You know that. I can’t replace her. Maybe… maybe we need to leave the past where it is.”

You didn’t notice until now that there were tears rising to your eyes. You hate the feeling of it, willing yourself to stay stoic. Not now. You can’t cry now.

“I know you don’t mean it. If you really do - if you’ve really moved on, if you forget who we were back then, if you never want to see me again - I’ll go. I’ll go back to the party and I’ll go back to Ireland and we can pretend it never existed at all. But I don’t think you mean it.”

He grabs your hand. It still fits yours exactly.

“I’m not in the city for long. All I’m asking you for is one night.”

“And why should I give it to you? It’s been thirty years. Who says you know me at all now?”

You can’t meet his gaze. You know the second you look into his eyes again you’re done for. You never could say no to those blue eyes.

"I don't. But I want to. Please. Just give me one chance. We're old men now. What else is there left for us?"

You pull your hand out of his and you watch his face fall.

"I'm calling us an uber. You can stay at my house. Just for the night."

He nods, solemn. He puts his hands in his pockets, and the two of you stand there and wait until the headlights come around the corner, looking for all the world like strangers.

The ride home is quiet. You don't speak again until you're unlocking the door for him to come into your house.

"It’s not much. LA prices and all. But it's home."

"No, no, I like it. It's nice. Cozy."

"Always the flatterer. Sit down. I'll make you a drink."

He looks out of place sitting there on the dingy sofa in his perfect suit. You pour two glasses of whiskey and bring them over to the living room, sitting down next to him.

"So. How have you been?"

It's awkward. What do you say to the man you loved? How do you talk about the decades you spent without him?

"I've been… keeping busy. Work and all. Peaky Blinders is wrapping up, but Oppenheimer was pretty intense during filming. I didn't go home much. The house has felt too empty since… well, you know. I felt terrible for doing it, though. My sons - they're staying with my brother right now. I know they need their father, but…"

He trails off, slumping slightly in his chair.

"But I can't be the father they need right now."

He downs the glass of whiskey and sets it back down on the table.

"What about you, though? How's Hollywood?"

"It’s.. It's fine. You get used to it after a while."

"The good or the bad?"

"Both."

The two of you sit there quietly for a while. It's Cillian who breaks the silence first.

"Do you remember that apartment you had back in the day? The one with that one window that never shut right in the wintertime?"

"Yeah, the one with no wall decor or bedframe. Real bachelor pad. I loved that place. Having to move out after we ended things was sort of my last straw in terms of staying in Ireland."

"It was a comfortable bed for just being a terrible mattress though. Where did you find that thing, the dumpster?"

"Of course not, I had more dignity than that. It was on the curb."

He laughs. His laugh hasn't changed a bit.

"I have a real mattress now, though. My back's getting too old to keep on roughing it."

"With a bedframe? From a store? Hollywood has given you expensive tastes, I see."

“Yeah, living it up over here with my bed from a store. Might as well be on a yacht with blackjack and hookers, right?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got a deck of cards around somewhere.”

“And the hookers?”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Well…. I was a pretty hot commodity back in my heyday..”

He grins at you over the rim of his glass.

“A hot commodity, huh?”

“Seemed to work well enough for you.”

You grin back.

“God, you’re impossible.”

You lean over, and before you know it, your face is just inches from his, your hand on his chest. His pupils are blown wide, his hand on the small of your back.

He closes the gap between you. He tastes like cheap whiskey and expensive champagne and water when you’ve been lost in the desert. You’ve never wanted anyone more. His hand caresses your cheek softly, holding you as you pull away, and it’s tender and nostalgic in a way that makes your heart feel like it’s about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

You tangle one of your hands through his hair and lean down over him. When you slide one hand under his shirt, his breath goes shaky. You kiss along his jawline and down his neck, and he throws his head back, biting his lip.

You trace your fingers along the bulge in his pants - he whimpers, already rock-hard under your hand.

“Nobody’s touched you like this in a long time, have they?”

He shakes his head.

“It’s been… god, it’s been years. Couldn’t remember how good it felt, couldn’t even get myself off. Wasn’t enough.”

There’s a desperation in his voice, a silent pleading. You want to give him the world. You’ll settle for giving him what he needs instead.

“Come on. We’re going to the bedroom.”

You take his hand and pull him up, guiding him to your room. He sits down on the edge of your bed, and you move to stand between his legs, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.

“Let me take care of you, Cill. Just for tonight.”

You toss his shirt on the floor somewhere behind you and push him back to lie on the bed, leaning over him. He pulls you in for a kiss as you strip him down.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me. Please. I need you inside me.”

He’s beautiful like this, the flush high on his cheekbones creeping down his chest, his eyes wide and his hair messy. Gorgeous, even. It’s enough to drive a man crazy.

“Turn over. Hands and knees.”

He scrambles to obey you, leaning on his elbows with his head resting in his hands. He’s almost impossibly hard, dripping precum onto the sheets. You grab the bottle of lube out of the bedside table and warm it in your hands, stroking his cock before you slip the first slick finger inside him.

He tenses, and you slow down. You hear him take a deep, slow breath.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“No, no, it’s alright, it’s just… it’s been a long time.”

You wait to move again until you feel him relax around you, and when you curl your finger into his prostate he groans. You take your time opening him up, watching how he shakes under your touch, listening to his pretty sounds filling the room.

“God, stop teasing and just fuck me already!”

It’s sudden, startling in a way that almost makes you laugh.

“I’m not teasing, I’m getting you ready. It’s half the fun.”

“Well, I’m ready enough. Please. I need you inside me.”

You pause for a moment, movements stilling.

“I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”

The words hang in the air. Both of you know that you’re talking about more than just this.

“You won’t. I trust you.”

You pull your fingers out of him to unzip your pants and pull your underwear down, and he whimpers for a moment before you put him on his back and lean over him, pushing his thighs up.

You slick yourself up and enter him slowly. He’s hot and tight around you. The two of you had only ever gotten this far a handful of times back then, but it still felt just as incredible as it had the very first time.

You wait until he’s adjusted to you fully before you really start to thrust into him. One of your hands holds his, propping you up beside his head. The other runs all over his body as you kiss him, one of his hands tangled in your hair. He kisses you like you’re air and he’s a drowning man. It’s better than all the times you ever dreamed of him. When you dreamt of him, you never let yourself imagine that he would love you back.

“Fuck - Cill, I’m - fuck, I’m close.”

“Me too.”

He pulls back, his hand resting on your cheek and his thumb rubbing across your lips softly.

“You’ve been so sweet to me…”

He looks at you like you hung the moon just for him. Like the two of you, here, now, are the only two people on Earth. It’s as dark as it ever gets out here, but you can still see the tenderness in his eyes in the dim glow of the streetlights and the ever-awake city through your window. Something tugging at your heartstrings tells you you’d be able to see it in complete darkness.

“Always.”

You turn your head to give his palm a kiss and something in his expression melts.

Your forehead leans against his as your movements slow to a deep grind against his sweet spot, and before long he’s moaning as he cums over his stomach. You follow suit soon after, pulling out and stroking yourself overtop of him until your release is coating his chest.

The two of you lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow.

“My back’s going to be killing me tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely. At least you weren’t bent in half like a contortionist half the time.”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

He laughs, soft and quiet.

“Do you want me to get you some water? I’m going to go get a washcloth or something to get you cleaned off.”

“Please. Water would be very nice.”

You kiss him on the forehead before dragging yourself out of bed to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water.

You’re back before long. Cillian grins as you walk back into the bedroom, turning on the lamp on the bedside table.

“Missed you.”

“I was gone for two minutes.”

“Still.”

There’s a melancholy in his eyes, one that you try not to think too hard about as you wipe the cum off his stomach and toss the washcloth in the laundry basket to deal with later.

You climb back into bed with him as he takes a sip of water. The two of you don’t speak. You don’t need to. Before long, he turns the lamp back off, and the two of you fall asleep holding each other in the soft summer night.

we heart old man sex also sorry this took like SO long lol

taglist

@lovelybucky1

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian x male reader #cillian x reader #cillian x you #cillian x y/n

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