#daze II

[mayura-chanz]

Kagerou Daze VI — over the dimension — Daze II

Tradução feita a partir da tradução em inglês da Yen Press.

Apoie o autor comprando a novel original.

____

Foi uma longa, longa história, mas estranhamente, não parecia que passou tanto tempo.

Isso pode ser porque estávamos presos neste espaço. Ou talvez fosse porque tudo o que Haruka disse era tão fresco que me atraiu, fazendo-me esquecer tudo sobre a passagem do tempo.

Depois que ele terminou, Haruka suspirou suavemente e olhou para mim.

— ...Desculpe, isso durou muito tempo, eu acho.

Balancei minha cabeça. Tentei dizer alguma coisa também, mas não consegui pensar em nada decente. Assim como naquela época, agora que penso nisso. Quando Haruka revelou sua doença para mim na casa dele. Eu também não tinha nada decente para dizer. Eu tinha acabado de congelar no lugar, sem saber o que fazer.

Dois anos e eu não cresci nada desde então.

Mas eu tinha que dizer algo. Selecionei algumas palavras e as trouxe aos meus lábios.

— Hum... Isso é incrível. Eu não posso acreditar que você era o cara por trás do Konoha.

Haruka desviou o olhar timidamente. — Desculpe, eu não poderia te dizer a você do outro lado. — Ele se desculpou. A julgar pela história, entretanto, acho que ele nunca teve essa habilidade. Konoha tinha sua própria personalidade. Ele era quem movia o corpo do Haruka agora.

Ouvir a história de Haruka deve ter mexido um pouco com a memória. Comecei a me lembrar das linhas gerais de como cheguei aqui.

Como vivi os dois anos desde que Haruka morreu.

Eu larguei a escola. Eu me escondi no meu quarto. Enomoto de alguma forma se transformou nessa bola de energia perversa e se instalou dentro do meu computador. Ainda não a perdoei por isso. Então encontrei a Gangue da Loja... Ao lembrar, eu não podia acreditar que de alguma forma eu tinha esquecido de tudo. Era tudo tão surreal.

Ah sim. Juntei-me ao Mekakushi-dan. E eu precisava voltar rápido para poder ajudar na Operação: Conquistar o Kagerou Daze ou que quer que fosse.

Eu tinha que sair daqui o mais rápido possível. Mas estava faltando uma chave vital. Uma última coisa que eu ainda não conseguia me lembrar.

O dia em que fomos à casa da Mary. Minhas memórias do dia seguinte até eu chegar aqui... Por alguma razão, eu simplesmente não conseguia recordar. O que me incomodou.

— ...Shintaro. Eu lhe disse no início que há algo que preciso “esclarecer”. Você se lembra disso?

— Sim... Sim, você mencionou isso. Sua história teve parte disso?

— Não, não tinha. Vou falar disso agora...

Haruka fez uma pausa, se recompondo, então falou de novo—

— Você disse que não se lembra da razão de vir aqui. Isso é... realmente verdade?

Realmente verdade? Eu arqueei minhas sobrancelhas.

— Hum, claro que é. O que, você está duvidando de mim? Por que você pergunta?

O rosto de Haruka escureceu imediatamente.

— Quero dizer, não tem como que você não possa lembrar, no momento em que olhou para o meu rosto. Você não precisa mentir para me fazer se sentir melhor...

— Hã? Não, uhm... Tipo, eu não sei do que você está falando. E mais do que tudo agora, eu realmente quero saber!

— Você está agindo estranho esse tempo todo, aliás. Você viu em que tipo de lugar ferrado estamos. Como você pode agir tão composto assim? É estranho.

...Está tudo bem, Haruka. Você não precisa dizer.

— Vamos, Shintaro. Você tem que se lembrar disso. Além do mais...

...Não. Por favor, não diga isso. Você não pode...!

                — Você morreu quando eu XXXXei em você, não foi?

               Um raio de dor atravessou meu coração parado.

Era como se ele estivesse me avisando para nunca esquecer isso.

— Então, por favor, Shintaro. Você precisa matar o Konoha... Você precisa me matar. Antes que toda essa história termine com um Game Over...

Então Haruka chorou, assim como naquele dia de verão.

Eu fiquei lá, imóvel, bem no meio do Kagerou Daze.

O que diabos eu poderia fazer? Não consegui salvar nenhum deles. Então, o que...?

<<anterior — próximo>>  Índice — Novels

[dirtytransmasc]

helaegond raising the twins + maelor but it's just helaegon being sleep deprived parents and Aemond stepping in before they accidentally kill themselves or their kids.

like, Aemond walking in on Aegon rocking a bundle of blankets and having to put his own brother down for a nap, who quickly begs him to stay, cause he can't fall asleep on his own anymore.

Helaena trying to feed the children while fighting off sleep and just making Aemond anxious so he says he'll do it himself (how he will do that, he doesn't know, he's just got a lot of will and a lot of love for his sister, so he'll manage)

Aemond taking the kids out for the day so Aegon and Helaena can enjoy a day in bed, without a worry in the world (they have separation anxiety with their kids and don't stop worrying the entire time). similarly, Aemond being the one to settle the kids for bed; getting them dinner, a bath, a bed time story, actually getting them to fall asleep.

family cuddle piles; Aemond being sassy and pretending he doesn't like it, but he's got one arm around Helaena, Aegons latched onto his middle, 'laenas holding Maelor, the twins are tangled up in their legs, they're all currently considering getting a bigger bed, all is well.

I just want them to be a disaster co-parenting throuple

[dailyghostpics]

day 319/320

[blackicek1lls]

(pasted from my youtube lol)

KagePro Day! This series actually inspired me to make videos actually. You can't see them now (they're privated lol) so here's some sketches! It was a human AU too so it might be cringe to some. I look back on my old art way too much so it doesn't really affect me.

I was REALLY into Inanimate Insanity when I was younger and I would just combine it with other media I like. Out came the KagePro II AU! It was probably a precursor to my habit of excessive world building. TLDR Paintbrush got to be Shintaro, MePhone got Kuroha'd, Cobs was actually a good guy, and Knife, Mepad, and Toilet were all simultaneously Mary (it's more complicated than that but still). And that was just in the WORST timeline. The best timeline was a such a hot mess that the worst one had to handle their eternal punishments in the Haze. This AU held me for YEARS and it took NSR to kill it.

I could honestly ramble for ages about this AU and how KagePro jumpstarted me into making covers and videos haha. The music was so good and I dream of making videos half as good as the ones with it. Maybe I'll go over my old videos at some point because the way I did them was super backwards and unorthodox haha.

Honestly, blame JubyPhonic for introducing me to Outer Science (heck of a first song to listen to) and letting it spiral from there.

[honeycherrydohnuts]

damn i never realised that the kid with powers turning someone into a jack in a box actually happens in the twilight zone episode i thought they made it up for the treehouse of horror lmao

[itsmyfriendisaac]

Pineapple Express

Juice

Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story

Dazed & Confused

9 to 5

Menace II Society

[potatoesandsunshine]

literally what am i supposed to do w my life now that the video game is over...

[modernwizard]

Why I love the Spymaster #98: "Call me by my name!"

Find my full series under the HELP I WUVS HIM tag.

#98: "Call me by my name!"

Check out this moment in Spyfall II, where the Spymaster, having just killed two people with his incredible shrinking device and thus intimidated an entire auditorium of people at a science fair, makes the Doctor kneel and call him by his name.

The Spymaster's eye contact -- or lack thereof here -- is fascinating. For his first two requests, the Spymaster glances in the Doctor's general direction, but also flicks his eyes to the side. His face remains still, largely devoid of expression. He seems distracted or disconnected. It takes him until request #3 to stick the eye contact, along with a sarcastic wince. Not until response #3 does he seem to have an emotional response to his name: a response of apparent distress, with unhappy eyebrows and a hand pressed over the mouth. Of course, he's just smirking underneath.

This little clip supports my interpretation that the Spymaster feels his sense of control, thus his Masterfulness, his very self, disintegrating--hence the somewhat vacant stare and blank expression in the beginning. That's why he's so fixated on his past greatness [#81] and why he's so obsessed with the "classics," particularly his TCE [#75]. We know that he's in love with his own stupid name [#37]. He's also always on a search for the right word [#57]. And he thinks in repetitions because he's always replaying the past to himself, evaluating his performances [#18 and #54]. It thus makes perfect sense that he thinks that his favorite enemy repeating to him his favorite word might bring him back to himself. He's also, of course, hearkening back to Simm Master's demand to Ten in Utopia: "Say my name."

Do you think that he says, "Can't hear you," because it's so loud in his head, full of conflicting dialogues and self-doubt, that he can barely hear himself think? Is that sarcastic wince a sneer at the Doctor AND a moment of contempt for himself because he feels like a failure? Do those distressed eyebrows indicate any frustration that his elaborately staged performance isn't working for him?

@natalunasans @rowanthestrange @timeladyjamie @whovianuncle @sclfmastery

[runawaycarouselhorse]

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it. 

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly. 

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.” 

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.” 

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry. 

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up. 

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair. 

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking. 

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son. 

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.” 

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[mayura-chanz]

Kagerou Daze VII — from the darkness — Shissou Word II

Tradução feita a partir da tradução em inglês da Yen Press.

Apoie o autor comprando a novel original.

[1] Wok: um tipo de panela, parecido com uma frigideira, só que um pouco mais funda.

____

De repente, minha mente se focou na luz do sol borrada do outro lado das minhas pálpebras. Abri meus olhos e pisquei algumas vezes, enquanto os sentidos do meu corpo, anteriormente dormindo, gradualmente se agitavam e despertavam. Aquele corpo, flutuando e balançando entre as ondas suaves do som, como um saco plástico transparente, lentamente recuperou seu peso, forçando-me a sentir a forma completa da minha forma enquanto permanecia afundada na cama.

— Ah cara, — eu disse, abaixando minhas sobrancelhas. — Eu queria poder dormir um pouco mais. — Mas já era muito tarde. Para começar, eu tinha sono leve. Em um estado como este, não tinha como fazer um retorno para aquele reino.

Resignada para o meu destino, tirei meus fones de ouvido. Minhas orelhas ficaram livres da pressão e gradualmente o fluxo sanguíneo voltou. Desligando a música, fiquei ali deitada enquanto meus tímpanos eram sacudidos por todos os “sons” que compunham o mundo real. Os sons odiosos, contundentes e pulsantes do mundo exterior.

Suspirei e apoiei meu corpo pesado. No espelho de corpo inteiro irremediavelmente ornamentado colocado na minha frente, eu podia ver uma cama de dossel igualmente extravagante refletida de volta. A pessoa de olhos turvos e de aparência desgastada sentada no meio olhou para a imagem.

— ...Dia.

A imagem da boca se moveu em conjunto com a minha.

Uma outra manhã odiosa começou.

Estendi os braços e olhei para a janela. A luz brilhante alegre da primavera estava abrindo caminho através das flores de corniso lá fora, exibindo um piscar constante. Ainda havia um frescor no ar, mas essa árvore sempre florescia cedo e dava sinais de que logo estaria em plena floração. As pétalas rosa-claras ondulantes trouxeram à mente o termo “flor delicada”.

Flor delicada. Sinceramente, eu gostava do jeito que as palavras soavam, mas eu sempre associei uma imagem negativa com a frase. No mínimo, me provocava um pouco de raiva.

*

O meu nome era “Tsubomi”. Era uma palavra que, em japonês, referia-se a um botão de flor que não floresceu. Eu perguntei uma vez para minha mãe por que ela usou uma palavra como essa para o meu nome. Acho que ela falou que era porque “é um sinal de todo o potencial que você tem—o potencial de se transformar em sua própria flor delicada”.

Eu acredito que uma garota normal pularia e gritaria: “Uau! Que nome tão fofo! Obrigada, Mãe!” E era assim como todo mundo reagia quando ouviam o meu nome. Cada um. Eles sempre diziam “Que nome lindo” ou algo assim.

Uma palavra que o mundo inteiro amava. Delicada e cheia de potencial.

— ...E o que diabos é tão delicado em você?

A imagem no espelho brilhou desafiadoramente com um clarão meio adormecido. Esta não era um botão de flor. Pelo contrário, era mais como algum tipo de erva daninha. Não tinha nada do nome Tsubomi que combinasse comigo. Toda vez que alguém me chamava assim, parecia como se estivessem sendo sarcásticos. Como “O que há de tão fofo e parecido com um botão em você, hein?”

Eu odiaria dizer isso para minha mãe, mas para ser franca, não havia muito sobre o nome que eu gostasse.

Enquanto minha mente se enchia de melancolia, pude ver pequenas e delicadas Tsubomi no espelho nublando o rosto dela em conjunto, a expressão tão fraca quanto uma lâmpada queimada. Decidi finalmente sair da cama.

Colocando os chinelos que tinha jogado para o lado na noite passada, comecei a caminhar em direção à porta. O lugar era totalmente climatizado—uma temperatura confortável, não muito quente. Andei pelo tapete, decorado com padrões simbólicos de um tipo e de outro, e quando estava quase chegando à porta, ouvi sons de batidas.

— Ee...?!

Eu instintivamente deixei um débil grito sair, um totalmente despreparado. Não estava quente no meu quarto, mas senti um suor desconfortável começar a se formar em todo o meu corpo.

Minha mente começou a correr. Diagnosticando mentalmente como lidar corretamente com a batida, eu imediatamente abri minha boca. E mantive aí. Ela permaneceu aberta... Mas não importa o que, eu simplesmente não conseguia fazer as palavras saírem.

— Você já está acordada, não está, Tsubomi? Se você já acordou, por que não me responde?

Era uma voz fria e retumbante do outro lado da porta, tão meticulosamente trabalhada quanto um obi de alta qualidade, e tinha força por trás dela. Eu congelei, como um sapo na frente de uma cobra.

Não havia dúvida. Era ela do outro lado. Eu tinha que dar as palavras corretas na resposta, ou... ou...

Mas quanto mais pensava, mais minha mente começava a ficar confusa. O tempo passou.

— ...Tudo bem, estou abrindo. — A voz disse secamente quando a porta se abriu. Lá estava minha irmã mais velha, Rin Kido, a dona da voz que me congelou. Seu cabelo, que tinha um pouco de vermelho nele, estava preso para trás, as costas retas enquanto ela estava ali. Tão cedo pela manhã, e ainda assim sua postura não revelava uma única fraqueza.

Rin em japonês pode significar “digno”, assim como “frio” e “amargo”, e acho que ninguém pode negar que tal nome não poderia ser mais adequado. Ela era boa em tudo: inteligente, bonita, ativa. Ninguém nesta nação tinha combinado o nome Rin melhor.

E aqui estava essa garota com um caso seríssimo de alguém com o cabelo de quem acabou de acordar, recém colocada no mesmo nível que as ervas daninhas, tentando fazer sua boca funcionar.

— Uhh.. hhmmm...bom, bom di...

Minha irmã suspirou com as sílabas quase incompreensíveis que pronunciei, franzindo a testa em uma demonstração de pena, presumo.

— Tsubomi, você sabe que não estou aqui para te assustar ou qualquer coisa do tipo, né?

Eu sei, claro. Eu sabia que ela não era o tipo de pessoa que vem me assustar e também sabia que aquele rosto gracioso dela estava olhando para mim. Mas mesmo assim eu simplesmente não conseguia conectar minha cabeça à minha boca. Não importa o motivo, eu simplesmente não conseguia dizer mais do que: “Sim. Sim, eu sei.”

Rin aguçou ainda mais os olhos. — Ao ficar quieta assim, — ela rosnou, — você está agindo como uma grama na beira da estrada, Tsubomi.

Suas palavras me atingiram como uma facada. Meu corpo congelado gradualmente começou a tremer.

Era... difícil falar no geral. O médico disse que não havia nada de errado com minha cabeça ou com as cordas vocais ou outra coisa, e eu instintivamente já sabia. Se eu estivesse sozinha, no meu quarto, eu conseguia conversar sem largar mão. Era só quando eu estava tentando conversar com mais alguém que as palavras se esgotavam em mim.

Até recentemente eu poderia ainda lidar com isso. Se alguém me desejasse um bom dia, eu conseguia desejar um de volta. Dar respostas básicas de sim ou não, nunca teve qualquer tipo de problema.

A razão que isso ficou pior era bem simples. Um dia, no centro infantil em que minha mãe me levava, um menino começou a fazer gracinha com a minha fala. Isto foi o começo. Eu também achei que o que ele disse não era nada particularmente cruel ou abusivo. Os adultos acharam que não valia a pena insistir nisso, ordenando rapidamente que o menino se desculpasse para que todos pudessem deixar o assunto de lado.

Mas não importa quanto tempo passe, eu não pude deixar passar.

Até o momento, aquele momento, eu nunca havia considerado como soaria minha voz e as minhas escolhas de palavras. Como resultado, o significado por trás do que o menino disse veio como um golpe incrivelmente pesado. Ou seja, significa que, comparado a outras pessoas, tinha algo estranho comigo. No instante em que esse pensamento cruzou minha mente, foi como se alguém tivesse apagado todas as luzes na minha cabeça.

Voltando para aquele dia, quando o significado ficou claro, ignorei todos os adultos por perto e comecei a socar o menino. Isso acabou se tornando algo maior para eles. Minha mãe continuou se curvando em desculpas aos pais daquela criança pelas próximas idas depois.

*

Depois disso, comecei a evitar situações que envolvessem falar e, agora, eu sou tão tímida que não consigo nem mesmo comunicar palavras simples ou conceitos.

— ...Tudo bem. — Disse Rin, cruzando os braços no corredor enquanto ficava cada vez mais impaciente. — Está bem. — Então ela colocou os pés no quarto.

Ótimo. Eu fiz de novo. Se eu não responder nada para o que ela pergunta, não uma questão simples, bem, isso faria qualquer um ficar zangado. Baixei os olhos, incapaz de aguentar o esforço. As sombras das flores dos cornisos criavam padrões ondulantes no tapete. Mesmo sendo só a silhueta, elas estavam delicadas.

...Estava me deixando louca. Minha voz, meu nome, tudo.

Que tipo de expectativas a minha mãe tinha para o meu futuro? Ou talvez todos aqueles sonhos agora estavam focados na Rin, de mente perspicaz e obstinada.

Mas eu nunca saberia como ela realmente se sente... E, digo, mesmo que a mãe estivesse viva, eu não poderia dizer uma palavra sequer. Eu não consigo nem “perguntar” nada a ela.

Quantas palavras troquei com minha mãe desde aquele episódio—naquele apartamento apertado em que estávamos?

Não. Eu não mudei nada desde aquele dia. Vai ser assim para o resto da minha vida. Eu sei que vai. Não tem como eu me tornar uma flor delicada que a minha mãe gostaria.

Pensando nisso, no quão patética e inútil eu era, fez os cantos internos dos meus olhos começarem a esquentar.

Os pés da minha irmã se aproximaram, pisoteando nas silhuetas dos cornisos. Olhei para ela. Ela já tinha um braço no ar.

Estremeci e fechei os olhos, esperando um tapa. Mas a dor não foi registrada através da minha bochecha. Em vez disso, senti algo macio escovando meu cabelo desgrenhado de cima para baixo. Surpresa, de repente abri os olhos e olhei para Rin novamente. Ela não estava sorrindo, mas também não parecia estar com raiva. Ela estava apenas olhando para mim resolutamente.

O que era estranho era que ela estava me dando tapinhas na cabeça e definitivamente não estava me dando um tapa na bochecha. Talvez essa fosse uma nova forma de expressar raiva com a qual eu não estava familiarizada, mas de qualquer forma, esse comportamento era novo e confuso.

Então Rin separou lentamente os lábios e falou.

— Pão ou arroz? Qual você quer?

...Pão ou arroz? Eu era mais de arroz. Ele podia acompanhar muito mais variedades de comidas do que o pão e eu gostava do sabor. Mas por que ela está me perguntando isso agora? Para não ser muito precisa, o fluxo geral das coisas indicava que ela estava prestes a gritar a plenos pulmões algo como “Você vai ficar no seu quarto até me dizer por que você não está respondendo” ou algo assim. Eu entenderia se fosse isso. Mas por que ela está me perguntando sobre minha preferência...?

— Ah... — Exclamei alto. Uma ideia veio em mente. Ela nunca aparecia quando seria realmente útil, mas minha voz sempre encontrava uma saída quando eu me surpreendia com alguma coisa. Era tão cruel.

Rin não demonstrou nenhuma reação a ela. Ela olhou para mim, aparentemente esperando por uma resposta. Estremeci um pouco.

“Pão” ou “arroz” ...Ela deve ter estipulado que esses termos significassem algum tipo de punição. Isso explicaria muitas coisas. Eu tinha visto assassinos malucos em programas de TV oferecendo às suas vítimas uma escolha de mortes. E era muito fácil imaginar Rin como capaz de algo semelhante. Ela pode ter usado palavras inofensivas como “pão” e “arroz”, mas isso só tornou tudo ainda mais assustador.

Se fossem punições, era fácil imaginá-las como cruéis e/ou dolorosas. Minha imaginação começou a correr solta. O que significaria “pão”? Ela iria me ensanduichar com alguma coisa ou usar a torradeira como algum tipo de dispositivo de tortura? Era um pouco mais difícil descobrir o que era “arroz”, uma panela elétrica de arroz não parecia muito adequada para atormentar alguém fisicamente, mas mesmo assim, já me sentia aterrorizada.

Qual seria a melhor resposta para dar? Se eu dissesse algo como “Não quero nenhum dos dois”, ela responderia com um “Tudo bem, macarrão, então” ou algo assim—e depois, meu Deus, colocaria minha mão na água fervente, ou...?

Talvez seja melhor eu escolher pão então. Não, espera, arroz...

— Tsubomi?

— A...a...arroz, por favor!

Ser chamada pelo nome fez minha boca cuspir reflexivamente “arroz”. Em volume bastante alto, nada menos que isso. Alto o suficiente para assustar Rin um pouco, pelo que parece, mas fiquei ainda mais chocada. Pode muito bem ter sido o mais alto que já gritei desde que nasci.

O sangue começou a bombear com força em meu crânio. Eu tinha passado de um ato extremo de grosseria para outro. Estava tudo acabado. “Arroz” pode não ser mais suficiente para me punir. Eu estava começando a imaginar a possível introdução do arroz frito no cardápio. Fervido e deixado na wok[1] para ferver.

Enquanto minha mente se aproximava de caminhos cada vez mais ridículos, o olhar resoluto de Rin de repente se transformou em um sorriso. Eu não sabia por que isso aconteceu, mas, por mais inapropriado que fosse, peguei-me pensando: “Cara, ela é mesmo bonita”.

Rin deu alguns tapinhas na minha cabeça com a mão estendida, depois se abaixou, trazendo os olhos para os meus. — Tudo bem. — Ela disse. — Vou tentar preparar algo muito bom para você hoje. — Sua voz tinha todos os tons agudos que vinham por padrão, mas ainda trazia uma sensação calorosa que parecia permear minha pele.

Ah, o que eu tenho que fazer para começar a falar assim? Eu não pude deixar de admirá-la.

Depois de ouvir o que ela disse, minha irmã virou-se e saiu levemente. Fiquei ali em silêncio por um tempo, depois comecei a pirar novamente. Talvez “algo muito bom” significasse o nível da punição que estava reservado. Pouco mais passou pela minha cabeça enquanto me vestia e me dirigia para a mesa do café da manhã.

Mesmo durante a refeição, Rin agia como se estivesse nas nuvens. O trabalho do meu pai aparentemente estava indo bem, a ponto de conversarmos sobre como eles poderiam se expandir para novos negócios, então talvez fosse por isso que ela estava feliz.

Permaneci preparada para o abate durante o resto do dia, mas no final anoiteceu sem qualquer tipo de punição relacionada a arroz. Chutando meus chinelos, enfiei-me na cama e coloquei meus fones de ouvido. Foi só então que percebi que o arroz servido no café da manhã naquela manhã estava visivelmente mais saboroso do que o normal.

<<anterior — próximo>>  Índice — Novels

[bpmiranda]

begging for an invisible!reader pt.2 ill do whatever you want 🙏🙏🙏

Your Perfume II (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: age gap, student!reader x logan, 18+ f!reader, mutant reader(invisibility), kinky!logan, invisible intercourse

Your Perfume

“Not here,” You whisper as he’s sliding a hand up your tank top and you realize you’re still in the kitchen, even if you are invisible. “They’re going to hear us.”

“Let ‘em,” He murmurs as he continues kissing your neck amorously, holding you close to him. “As long as they can’t see you.”

You protest, pushing him off gently. “Not out here.” You insist and he groans as he loses you out of his hold. He can smell you moving towards the staircase and he follows like a dog on a chain. “Come on.” Your voice calls him up the stairs where he watches your bedroom room open with a smirk before he walks in and then the door closes behind him.

Logan turns around and listens carefully. “Where’d you go, little ghost?” He teases and he hears you giggle in front of him now. His hand immediately reaches out and you gasp as he catches your shoulder. Logan laughs while pulling you back into him, one arm around your waist and the other moving along your shoulder to your neck. “Gotcha.” He says before he runs a thumb over your chin and your bottom lip, kissing you there softly as he guides you to the bed.

While he can’t see you, he can feel you in his arms, your legs wrapped around him, he can hear you whining underneath him as his fingers find their way into your dripping core. He can’t see you, but he can smell you, that perfume you wear and the scent of your arousal. Your slick covers his hand as he is pumping his fingers into you, guiding himself by the noise and the familiar anatomy of a woman. If he closes his eyes, he can picture you, your pretty face scrunched up from pleasure, your mouth open from the intensity of your approaching orgasm. His other hand is groping your breast, he can feel your shirt riding up and he pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch before he pulls your shirt off.

It appears the moment it’s off your body and he drops it on the floor with a smirk. “That’s interesting.” He says and he hears you chuckle. “Let’s see those little short come off, baby.” He instructs as he gets off your bed and pulls his sweatpants off. He can hear you shuffling and then your pajama shorts appear out of thin air as you toss them on the floor. “You’ve got quite a party trick there.” He chuckles making you laugh and he guides himself off you laugh, reaching onto the bed, and feeling your knees. Your body trembles underneath his touch as he spreads your legs open and he can smell you, his mouth watering as he touches you, feeling for your core and then replaces his fingers with his tongue when he finds your center.

“Logan,” Your voice breathes out, he can feel your fingers lacing through your hair and you tug as he’s making a mess of your pussy. Drooling and groaning against your sopping folds. “Oh, fuck!” He can feel your legs tremble and he is quick to pull away. “Hm.” You whine sadly.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not done.” Logan smirks, picturing how dazed you must look right now as he’s feeling his way up your body. “I want you to cum on my cock.” His hands touch your hips and your belly and your breasts where he stops to suck on them, bite them, mark them while you desperately roll your hips into him. Your juices coat the length of his shaft and Logan looks down to see the sheen appear out of nowhere. “Fuck, that’s hot.” Your body moves underneath him, he feels your hands on his shoulders as he’s pushing into you. Logan can see his cock through you, he can see the way it meets the resistance of your tight cunt, the way your walls squeeze him, and it’s almost too much to handle.

“Oh, my God!” You gasp, deep indentations appearing along his shoulders as you dig your nails into him. “I can’t take it.” You whimper, but he’s too caught up in watching himself drag out of you, push back in slowly, each time his cock is slicker with your juices. Logan’s focusing so hard on not blowing his load right then, the idea of being able to see himself fuck you riling him up.

“You’re doing so good,” He praises, suddenly sitting up on his knees and he feels for your hips, holding tightly onto you as he begins fucking you hard, gasping as he watches himself move through your invisible form. “Feels so fucking good.” He groans, watching his cock pump in and out of seemingly nothing, but the feeling of you so real. You’re whining and fisting the sheets so that they appear to be lifting on their own and Logan growls as your arousal begins to coat him with a creamy substance.

“I’m go-gonna-fuck!” You cry out as your body trembles in his hold and suddenly you’re appearing in front of him, shifting in and out of your visibility in tandem with the force of your orgasm. Logan groans at the sight of you writhing, pushing on him, gasping as you cum hard on his cock. And then you’re solid again, visibly fucked out and breathless as your chest is heaving from the intensity of pleasure.

“There you are.” Logan smirks, leaning over you, panting as he kisses you roughly. You wrap your arms around his neck as he’s pounding into you rhythmically and you feel his cock throb inside you. “Fuck, baby,” Logan buries his face in the crook of your neck as he releases his load. It sits deep inside you and you feel the warmth of him, the way his cock softly pulses against your walls with each spurt. “Never thought invisible sex would be quite that fun.”

You roll your eyes and playfully smack his shoulder as he chuckled, pulling out of you slowly and resting his forehead on yours. “Was it what you expected?”

Logan shook his head as he laid beside you and pulled you into his chest. “No, it was better,” He said while kissing your forehead. “Because it was with you.”

There was an overwhelming demand for a second part and I was far too excited to oblige you, kind readers! Let me know what you thought😁💕

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

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[minhosimthings]

The Demon of Destruction || 18+

Synopsis: For the first night of the "Make Heeseung jealous" pact, you spend it with the devil incarnate, Park Sunghoon.

Pairings: detective!Sunghoon × fem!reader

Warnings: Smut minors Dni, dildo use, ab riding, swearing, use of aphrodisiac, mention of alcohol slightly drunk reader, fem!reader, p in v, rough sex, degradation, praise, mention of cheating, creampie, dom!Hoon, reader is called 'angel' and 'sweetheart', overstimulation

A/N: bonjour my babies. This is the first installment of the Lucifer series and I seriously cannot wait to start writing Jayeun's next. Also I am shit at writing riding I realised that whilst writing this so pardon me if you cringe Ii

Series Masterlist

If there was one thing that Park Sunghoon would never have expected to ever happen to him, it was taking one of his best friend's wife to his home with the sole objective of luring her to his bed. Although he didn't have any objection towards it, it was rather peculiar now that he thought about it.

Glancing out the corner of his eye, Sunghoon caught sight of how eerily calm you were. Any other woman would have been biting her lips until they bled. Or perhaps making conversation with him at that point.

But no, you were just...silent, devoid of sound, as if you were a creature mute and deaf.

"If you don't want to go ahead with the plan anymore I'm fine with that." Sunghoon offered, snapping you out of your daze. The bourbon had a greater effect on you than you had thought.

"What—no, of course not." You said, looking at him for the first time since you climbed into his car, "Why would you think that?"

Sunghoon considered you for a while before answering. "No reason, angel."

The nickname made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Heeseung used to call you angel too.

•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•

"Welcome to my humble abode." Sunghoon whistled, opening the door of the cozy looking house for you. Your expectations of what his house would have looked like, was far different from the house you were standing in now. It was...homelier than you had expected.

"Are you sure you're not married?" You jested, taking off your coat, handing it off to Sunghoon, who hung it up at the door along with his own, "Any sensible woman would be all over this house, and you of course."

"As I said, I'm not that interested in a wife yet." Sunghoon said, guiding you to a small kitchen island, you had to squint in order to see your way through the dimly lit house.

"A drink for the lady?" Sunghoon offered, opening up a cupboard, "I've got whiskey, bourbon, and—" he stopped to look up at you and smirk, "—some special wine."

"What's so special about it?" You leaned against the counter, trying hard to look at him with seducing eyes, "Is it from France?"

"Jake got it for me." Sunghoon popped off the cork of the bottle with a quirk sound, "Apparently it's supposed to work in getting people..ahem-" he looked down, "Into the mood."

Aphrodisiac, you thought, you remembered Heeseung telling you about it once. He had wanted to buy some, before you scolded him, telling him that you were a big enough aphrodisiac for him. Once a laughable memory to you, seemed sadder now.

"Well?" Sunghoon snapped you out of your stupor once again, now nudging a glass of swirling maroon liquid into your hands. You hesitantly took the glass in your hands, inspecting it for a second, before downing it completely.

"Woah angel, slow down." Sunghoon took a sip from his own glass, "It won't work faster if you drink it faster."

Wouldn't it?, you wanted to question him, suddenly becoming hyper aware of Sunghoon's delicate features.

His hair fell perfectly onto his face in stray strands and his figure was strongly built, with slender waist and strong forearms, he almost looked feminine.

"Fuck..." You swore under your breath, holding your head in your hands, causing Sunghoon to look up worriedly. Setting his glass down and quickly walking over to you, he placed his hands on your lower waist before speaking.

"Alright there, sweetheart?"

"Yes I'm—fine." You forced out of your mouth, god did Sunghoon always smell this good?

Turning your body to his, your hands roamed over his stomach, and you could feel evident muscles through his thin shirt. Now that he had taken off his droopy coat, you realised how strongly built he really was.

"See something you like sweetheart?" His devilish smile came onto his face yet again, fueling the fire which kindled in your belly. Sunghoon's arms wrapped around your waist, eradicating the mere inches of air between you two.

One of his hands came up to your chin, his index lifting your dropping head up, as he examined it carefully. You could clearly feel the effects of the wine now, he looked so ethereal, whilst eyeing you up and down. He smirked once more.

"Let's go upstairs shall we, angel?"

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•

Heeseung wasn't the kind of man to let go of his treasures that easily. So why exactly he had give you up, Sunghoon couldn't get the answer to that question.

It was invigorating to Sunghoon to see you undress for him. Just one look from his eyes and your shirt was on the floor, the faint tear stains on it forgotten, why would you ever remember Heeseung when a much handsomer devil was in front of you?

So there you were, standing in front of Sunghoon in your petticoat, which barely hid the black of your bra and panties. Not that you wanted to hide it anyway, you thought, internally smiling at how Sunghoon was looking at you with bedroom eyes, before walking over to you with slow steps.

"Heeseung's an idiot for giving up such a beauty." Sunghoon said to no one in particular as he eyed you up and down once more, taking in your nakedness with his ravenous eyes.

His hand came down to your inner thigh, your frail petticoat letting him feel the soft skin before he moved to your stomach. He smiled to himself as he lifted your bra up higher, his hand smoothing over the soft warm skin. Sunghoon bit his lip, his eyes looming over your visible breasts.

"Are you already ravishing me without even touching properly, detective Park?" You chuckled, leaning closer to him. Sunghoon raised a brow.

"I never knew Lee Heeseung's wife would be so..." He trailed off in silence causing you to smile.

"So what?" You quizzed his bemused figure, "So... experienced?"

"I was about to say attractive." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, "But then again—" he let go of your waist, striding to his bed and sitting down at the edge, spreading his legs in a way that made your insides unconsciously burn, "Heeseung isn't a man who'd marry some lowly wench, is he Mrs Lee?"

"You're being brave by calling me that." You followed his footsteps upto the bed, promptly settling yourself down on his thigh, he shuffled a bit to make you more comfortable, "You haven't called me by my name even once since we've arrived here. You just keep calling me angel."

"Why shouldn't I call you angel?" Sunghoon smirked, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pulling you down onto his thigh so harshly it made you wince, "Are you not one?"

"Poetic are you?" You scoffed, trying not to whimper at the distance between your lips and his, along with the added pressure of him keeping your clothed pussy firmly pressed to the fabric of his trousers, "Well, I'm no angel if you're expecting me to be one."

You didn't even get to blink an eye, before you felt your back land painfully against the soft matress. Sunghoon's hands burnt into the skin on your waist and his eyes raged with hellfire. He smelled of wet earth and rain on top of you, looking at you with hungry irises.

"Don't be an angel then." Sunghoon whispered, his jaw dangerously close to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips, "Just be a good girl for me yeah?"

Your hands found his stomach as his lips crashed onto yours. He was devouring you in every way possible, his breath coagulating yours, as he moved his sharp tongue across the flesh of your inner cheek. Your hands on the other side, were tracing his stomach. Through the thin cotton threads of his shirt, you could feel his muscles press against your palm as he kissed you, digging deeper with every moment.

"Sweetheart-" Sunghoon pulled away, you lifted your head slightly to catch his lips again, but he was quicker with his words, "-you've been groping my abs since forever now."

"Don't pretend like you don't like it." You scoffed, looking at him with a condescending expression. That devilish smirk came back to his face.

"Then why don't you get on them?" He asked, pulling away from you and instead lying down on the bed. His position was rather inviting, an unbuttoned shirt, (you had no idea how fast he had taken off his buttons), strong legs spread far apart, and a pretty face, illuminated by the faint moonlight.

You gulped heavily, hesitantly going near him, unsure of ether or not to get your ass onto his elysian figure. Sunghoon seemed to sense your nervousness, as he grabbed your arm and, with surprising strength, pulled you into himself.

As soon as your weight fell on his stomach, you mouth fell agape, and your face went down to make eye contact with him. You never noticed how beautiful Park Sunghoon's eyes were, they were always hidden under the guise of his rakish behaviour.

Sunghoon stops you for a second, motions for you to rise up slightly, and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your dripping cunt to the air.

“Just move your hips sweetheart,” Sunghoon said, his hands on your waist, helping guide your movements. You sighed in pleasure as you started to feel some pressure. He helped your grind on his chiseled abs, until you hit the correct spot, feeling your cunt practically mold onto his tummy.

“Good job, keep going angel.” He said letting you hold his shoulders for support. Seeing your mouth press into an 'o' shape made his carnivorous tendencies ignite on fire.

His hands float to your hips, encouraging you to continue. You drop back down on him, the feeling of your bare clit rubbing directly against the crests and troughs of his abs was indescribable.

Using his firm grip on your waist, Sunghoon pushes you further onto the sharp hills on his stomach, and you quicken your pace, the searing pleasure in your clit overwhelming you.

"Fuck angel," he says, which elicits a whine from you. "you look so fucking pretty like this."

Your back arches slightly at the sound of his praise, your pace quickening even more. His one hand moving upto your hair fists it tight, earning another whimper from you.

“Such a good girl, you're doing so good angel,” He said, now feeling subtle wetness stain his belly button.

“Oh fuck—I-uhh-“ you moan, going faster on Sunghoon's muscled tummy.

“You gonna cum angel?" Sunghoon asks, a mocking tone to his voice that turned you on even more, that his handsome carved face, like the muse of God's scribe himself.

“F-fuck I’m so close, Hoonie” You whimper, your mouth hung open as you breathe hard. Hearing the nickname, Sunghoon jerked his hips up slightly, making you let out a tiny scream at the stimulation on your raw cunt.

“Cum for me angel.” Sunghoon says. With a few more movements, you were cumming, your back arching into his chest as you felt your pussy get drenched.

You nearly screamed as it hit you so strong your body expelled him, along with your wet release. He was quick to move his hips up again, his cum-coated stomach making you feel things you had never felt before, pushing them into you with a loud squelch. Your senses were on overload.

Sunghoon was consuming your entire being. You could feel every inch of him and you didn’t want to stop. Your core began to tingle, feeling another orgasm approach you, reducing you to a blubbering mess.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made angel,” Sunghoon taunted as you came drastically all over his stomach, "messy girl aren't you?"

Sunghoon carefully gripped your waist and lowered you onto the bed, chuckling at how wet his tummy felt. Of all the women he fucked, you were certainly on the topmost tier.

"Wait a tick for me." You thought you had seen him wink at you, but you weren't sure due to the silent darkness, the only noise coming from the rise and fall of your chest. You heard Sunghoon open his bedside drawer, with a creaking noise.

As you relaxed into the sheets, trying to ignore Sunghoon's shuffling around the drawer, you saw him from the corner of your eye, finally taking something out from it. You could see the shape of something easily recognisable in his hands.

"Do you know what this is, angel?" Sunghoon's hands rested flat on either side of your head as he got on top of you once more, waving the dildo in your face, "Of course you do," he answered his own question, "Heeseung wouldn't have let such a good pussy go without one would he?"

"That asshole couldn't have fucked me better even with a dildo." You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "do you just have a market of toys in that drawer?"

"Let's just say a lot of women like the foreplay." You could see him smirk even in the darkness, "I mean if you don't want it, I can put it bac-"

"No that's not what I meant!" You panicked, grabbing his arm. You wondered what about your tone of voice made Sunghoon laugh out loud and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. If anyone asked you later on whether you have felt butterflies or not, you'd had said no.

"Lay down for me angel." His voice was gentler now, a beautiful facade to his internal desires.

Sunghoon places the dildo on your clit and he starts to slowly rub it using the toy while you moan loudly. Moving the toy up and down your pussy, your sinful symphonies become louder, as Sunghoon watched the juices spill from your pussy causing him to groan at the sight. He thrusts the dildo harshly into your walls, and with the slightest touch of the material to your clit, you moan louder than before.

“S-Sunghoon—fuck, I'm-” You moan out as a slap echoes in the room and you feel a sting against your ass cheek. Sunghoon's hand repeatedly thrusts the dildo into your walls, making you wish fervently for his cock to replace it instead. He turns the pace up again as you moan even more while he continues to thrust the dildo in and out of you.

"Aww you want to cum?” he asks, as you struggle beneath him, he wasn't allowing you the pleasure he promised. Your breath came unsteady, fulfilling the reticent desires of Sunghoon's sadistic side.

"speak up, angel, I can't hear you." Sunghoon whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. You quickly pursed your lips, letting yourself make only muffled sounds. but you didn't last long, as every thrust and every inaudible whimper seemed to forcefully open your mouth from the inside.

"so pretty.." Sunghoon trailed off, laughing at your pleasured pain, "You want to cum hm?"

"Sunghoon-"

"Beg for it, come on." He commanded, "Beg me to let you cum, go on."

You weren't ready to give in that easy, but Sunghoon knew that. With a slick, carefully placed flick of his wrist, the slightly sharp end of the dildo touched you in a place that could have made you reach heaven and come back.

"Fuck—Sunghoon please!" You cried, tears falling down your face at the stimulation, "Please—let me cum.."

"Well if you say so." Sunghoon chuckled as you could do nothing but nod and after a few minutes of using the dildo, he takes it out of your pussy, pressing it in again.

You finish for a second time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you.

Your juices coat the top of the dildo as you moan raucously, feeling ribbons of cum shoot onto the dildo, making Sunghoon smirk in evident pride.

Your arms grab his, as your chest arches into his mouth, hot and wet. You feel as his mouth comes off of the swollen bud as he removes the toy from your pussy, giving you pain and pleasure at the same time.

You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and hickeys on your tits where he had taken them into his mouth. Sunghoon placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around nothing.

"Can you take more, angel?" He whispered to you, smoothing your hair out with his hand.

Sunghoon didn’t give you enough time to answer over his words as his lips crushed to yours. His tongue invaded your mouth as his hands roamed over your body. His roaming hand grabbed your hair as he ripped your face off himself. He looked down at you as you breathed heavily from his attack on your mouth.

"Hoonie~" you moaned into his mouth, "Want—your cock—please."

That was all it took for Sunghoon to practically rip off his belt and trousers, now laying on the floor, with their owner on top of you. Your throat went dry at the sight of his cock, hard and pulsing, the head of it angry red, glistening with precum.

He pulled back slightly, positioning his cock at your entrance and grabbed a fistful of your hair, stretching your upper body closer to him, putting you into an unnatural position.

His body was perfect, lean and muscular, strong and sharp features etched onto his body that looked straight out of a painting.Your gaze wandered over his arms, his chest and down his waist, hips and strong legs; every detail and body part burning into your mind.

You pant heavily, gasping for air as his large cock stretches your insides. His eyes are darkened but a cocky smirk remains. Achingly slow he pumps in making your eyes roll back, groaning at the sight of your mouth slack and panting.

His hips were moving slowly, with deep hard thrusts that made you moan with each push. His hips were doing most of the work, the thrusts were deep enough and hard enough for you to melt against the bed but enough to make everything shake under your skin as you were taking everything he gave you.  Sunghoon was not going fast, which made you wonder for a split second if he wished to. 

"Yes….Hoonie…FUCK!" You mewled as he hit that spot inside of you, hearing him growl for a moment as he was still fucking you deep into the mattress. His hand that was holding your thigh was in a tight grip, not letting you faint as you clung onto his back of dear life, feeling your nails almost break the skin as your moans were getting louder and more vocal. 

His rhythm was consistent, not slowing down or going too fast just to drive you insane as you felt that feeling of an intense orgasm come over you again. 

 "I'm c-close, Hoonie—" You were moaning into his neck as he huffed and stopped his thrusts. You were about to protest at him, teetering right on the edge of that pleasurable fall when he moved swiftly once again. 

Still inside of you, he leaned back a bit and scooped you in his arms, bringing you closer to him. You let out a noise of pain as you felt his entire girth penetrate deep inside you.

As you threw back your head and moan loudly, it dawns on you how very fragile-mannered Heeseung has fucked you. Your hips tremble as your body tenses, the ragged breath escaping your mouth cuts through your symphony of whines.

"Hoonie~Sunghoon—I can't!"

"Yes you can." Sunghoon groans as he feels you clench around him tighter than ever, "Be a good girl for me, angel and take it."

 The knot in your stomach tightened and snapped, your walls spasming and clenching around him as you released all over his cock that was buried deep inside of you. You were seeing stars and your body was shaking from the intensity. 

His cock jerks around against your walls once, twice, before he’s creaming, filling you up with ropes of hot cum. He thrusts deeper into you, a melody arising from both your moans as you felt him inside your very soul.

Soft pants and deep breaths invaded the space around you, not a word being spoken. You stayed like that for only a few seconds, catching your breath as you both came down from your highs. He then carefully pulled out, muttering a string of curses and an unheard comment about the the mess you both made off of his sheets.

"Come on angel." Sunghoon muttered under his breath, in a barely audible voice, not that you were listening anyway, "Let's get you cleaned up."

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•

"Tea?" Sunghoon offered you, your second cup of the night, "People say I make the best tea of all the precinct."

"Alright I trust you." You laughed, taking the mug in your hands and relaxing into the atmosphere of the cozy kitchen island, clad in a robe, you had no idea where Sunghoon got it from.

Calm silence followed, wherein you and Sunghoon sipped tea from your respective mugs. Yours had a 'To Uncle Sunghoon' on it, along with what looked like a child's drawing. You giggled to yourself. A gift from Sunghoon's beloved nephew, no less.

"Can-can I ask you something if you don't mind?" Sunghoon asked, and you noticed, that for the first time, there was no cocky tone to his voice.

"Go ahead." You smiled, "Unless it's about my first night with Heeseung."

"No no." Sunghoon laughed, taking another sup of his tea, his lips stained pink from all the kissing that had taken place, "I wanted to ask—how is it like, being married?"

You were taken aback by his question. Park Sunghoon, perhaps the last person on earth, who would ever think of marriage, was asking you about it? Had the bees stopped producing honey today?

"Well, I can't say," you started, "It's different for each person, you know. And, as time goes on, it changes. Which in my case-" you let out a cold laugh, "-is very evident."

Sunghoon was quick to put his hand on yours, giving it a tiny squeeze, along with a warm smile.

"You know who was really upset when he found out about...ahem.. your situation?" Sunghoon suddenly said, intriguing you.

"I don't know—Jay?" You said, realising you were right when you saw Sunghoon's expression, "Oh. Wait—Jay? You're not joking?"

"Y/N, trust me if you saw how much that man was brooding over it, you'd think he was your husband, not Heeseung." Sunghoon chuckled, downing the last bits of his tea, "Would you like to head to bed?"

Though you fell asleep soundly that night, wrapped in Sunghoon's surprisingly soft arms (now that the effects of the wine was over), you kept pondering over his words.

Jay—worrying about you? It was a heart thumping thought, which made you feel like what warm winter suns felt like. Jay Park, you sighed to yourself, before going off to sleep.

The day after tomorrow seemed too far away.

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[loregoddess]

discovered the uh...purple stuff? the purple horror music stuff?? the purple stuff that doesn't seem to be related to any story arc so far??? I don't know how to explain it, it was just...an experience, and an odd enemy encounter, and then the bright cheery music and normal daylight was back...I dunno what the hell is going on in Octopath II, but there sure is something deeply, deeply wrong with something here