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#maybe you never have that thought. maybe its just me who after everything is still struggling to move on. maybe im just silly for thinking
kumkaniudaku · 2 days
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Stay A While (2)
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Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,659
Part: 2 of ??
Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Previous
Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.
"Do you need this?" 
She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.
Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 
"Why? You like grapes." 
"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."
Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 
He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.
"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 
"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 
"You see how that was childish?" 
"Whatever." 
Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.
A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 
"Get that one." 
His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 
"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 
She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 
Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 
After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 
Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 
Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 
"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 
"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 
"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 
Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 
Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.
Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.
"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 
"Same time next week." 
He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 
Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 
"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 
"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 
"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."
His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 
It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 
He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 
Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 
"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 
Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 
"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 
"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 
"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 
"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."
"Amen."
An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.
Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.
"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 
Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."
"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 
Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 
"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 
Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 
Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 
Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 
"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 
Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.
Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 
"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."
"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 
"That'd be grand." 
"I bet it would."
Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 
Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 
"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 
"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 
"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 
"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 
--------
The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 
An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 
He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.
The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 
Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 
"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 
No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 
"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 
The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 
The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 
Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 
Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 
Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 
"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 
Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.
It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 
"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 
Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 
"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."
"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.
"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 
"Contract?" 
"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."
Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 
"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 
"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 
"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 
She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 
Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.
"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 
Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 
She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 
"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 
"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 
"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."
"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 
Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.
"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 
"They talk?" 
"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 
Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 
"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 
"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 
June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 
Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 
Focus on today.
The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 
They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 
Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 
"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 
"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 
He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 
The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 
"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 
"Of what?" 
"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"
He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."
You know I'm ready
To love you
Forever 
Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 
"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."
Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 
As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 
When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 
But, for tonight at least, this was enough.
TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse
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terminuslucis · 13 hours
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Story time! A little bit about my tiny Silver's family history.
It's a little sad.
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From the start, it was clear that little Silver resembled his father the most. Nobody was quite sure where his pale coloring came from, but that was fine. Genetics didn't always make sense.
His parents noticed early on that their son had some sort of magic. Odd things happened around him, and sometimes he laughed at an empty corner of the room. Nobody else in their family had magic, as far as they knew. Then again, there was nobody to ask. Neither of them had parents left. The only family was his father's little sister.
Maybe his gift was why his hair and eyes were so different. Whatever the case, they would figure it out as he got older.
That never happened. Before the child turned three years old, his parents were in an accident. At the time, he was in the care of his aunt.
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From her perspective, Silver waved at the door and wandered off to play in his room. A few hours later, she learned that her brother and his wife died. From his perspective, his parents came home and, some time later, his aunt started crying.
As his only living relative, his aunt was determined to look after Silver. It wasn't easy. She changed jobs often, chasing promotions and better schedules, so they moved a lot. Silver lost count of how many schools he went to. He didn't mind moving. There was always someone to play with, and his family was together.
Over time, his aunt realized that Silver was a little odder than she originally thought. It wasn't limited to the dishes moving on their own or his knack for knowing too much. His antics weren't just the rich imagination of a lonely boy. He saw things that she couldn't. He asked about things that shouldn't exist. He talked to her brother.
She tried to let it slide. She hated hearing only one half of a conversation with the only family she had, but Silver still had his parents, in a way...
In a way that she couldn't...
The boy grew up. The older he got, the more he resembled his parents, and the more his aunt hurt. She kept quiet about that. Of course he would look like his parents. It wasn't his fault that she missed them.
Meanwhile, little Silver saw his parents as clear as day. He knew they were dead, and his aunt was sad about that, but death didn't mean much to him. How could death be sad to someone who could look it in the eyes and hold its hand? But, when he mentioned them, sometimes his aunt looked like she wanted to cry.
Slowly, he stopped talking about the things his aunt couldn't see. He also stopped asking about things he heard without her saying them. He didn't want to make her sad. Over time, the gap between how they saw the world widened. His parents' ghosts could do very little to help.
Shortly after Silver started high school, his aunt caught a lucky break. They moved again, but that would be the last time. Silver made friends at his new school and their little family was finally stable.
And so, Silver mentioned his parents for the first time in years.
"Dad wants to say something."
His voice was almost a whisper as he braced for her reaction.
"What is it?" she asked.
"They have to leave soon. He wants to thank you for looking after me." He didn't know why his father said it like that when his parents had always been around, but he was asked to relay those exact words.
His aunt nodded, biting her lip before running to her room. She didn't say a word, but he heard everything regardless.
There was bittersweet relief, knowing her brother was with her for all that time, frustration and doubt as she questioned why Silver stopped talking about them in the first place, anger at herself because she knew it was her fault, and the sorrow of knowing that her family would be gone for good.
Silver had left many people over the last several years. To him, it felt as if his parents were simply the ones moving away this time. Why was it so different for his aunt? Why did his parents' smiles look so sad?
The day his parents' souls left, his aunt cried for the first time in years. Once again, Silver stopped talking about things she couldn't see, but only because they were no longer in the house. It seemed that last "goodbye" had changed things.
No, that was wrong. His parents said "goodbye" because things had already changed. They left because they knew everything would be okay.
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topicaltropic · 3 months
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oops! all wips
#dndads#1st img is morgan . tried to solidify the type of person that would marry glenn & jodie and its like#manic pixie dream girl meets wife under bedsheets. fun loving carefree extremely irresponsible i imagine shes as much a bad mom as glenn is#a bad dad#close family dinner for each day of the week#i imagine its very depressing cool for kids sad for adult/college life meals#i had like a pmv/animatic of tmbg erase to nicks everything but ill never finish it sadge!#comic in the middle i was gonna do like a immediately after the final where willys defeated and schools out for summer norm and scary run#into eachother while theyre walking home#and scary would ask whats wrong and normal would be like#well knowing that the entire world ended because of me has been sort of weighing#on me yeah“ and then scary would go ”normal...do you wish that *was* the reason?“ which would lead normal getting dumbstuck cuz she hits#the nail on the hammer. and then hes incredibly defensive and hes like uh b buh NO !!! MAYBE !!! and scary would share her experience#but itd make normal more resentful cuz hed be like well it all worked out for you in the end with you and your dad and you mom who all love#you. and then scary would get irked and start to call him out but then now that the bottles been uncorked his resentment would start#spilling out.#“you burned my house down! i thought it was *my* family that had the connection with the doodler ! but why- when- ”#and normal would be so frustrated and he couldnt get his words out and hed refuse to look at scary while she looks at him w/ the hardest#look of conflicted sympathy and pain#and all she could say would be stop comparing yourself to me and shed mean that in the most compassionate way possible and norm would just#be like i know#and then the bus would come and scary would have to go but shed look back and then be like “am i still coming over saturday to play#and him busy crying would just give a thumbs up#god now that i write this out maybe i will draw it i have a little bit of time left why not#to me i think scarys someone normal would have the easiest time being mean to#one because of his latent misogyny and this like unconscious superciliousness he holds towards her yet shes the one receiving the#validation he sorely craves and knowing if theres anyone he could talk to and whos understand what hes going through its her so though he#isnt able to be emotionally vulnerable or engage in a deeper level but he does feel comfortable enough to lash out at her#last pic is if nick woke up post doodlerized and found himself on cassandras couch (where the teens placed him) and shes there to greet him
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get-more-bald · 24 days
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the fuck do you mean I have to leave....
#like. i fully knew this would happen#but the moment is just. so disheartening#'what if we lose the best of our generation' girl so i wasnt the best... cause you just sent me out with low expectations....#<- ngl this fits my character... but at what cost#the way i characterize lori (my vault dweller) is that shes jokey and shes fun and she doesnt take things too seriously#shes had sort of an 'adventuring spirit' and was mostly skilled with weapons and thats why she was sent out#and like. everything was silly to her in the wasteland until her companion (katya) died under the cathedral. then it became too real#and the master conversation traumatized her a bit cause like. here is the creature that caused suffering. and now its real and its so much#more horrible than she was taking it as#also the masters body horror freaked her OUT. cause supermutants etc seemed like just... altered humans. just enemies or just a person#but the master (even tho technically posthuman) was something else entirely#and it became so real and she got a huge reality check and she cant look at anything the same#if not for the master shed probably get back to the vault and keep going in and out. but after the cathedral? she just wanted to go home#safe underground with normal people. maybe nobody would understand her but at least she wouldn't be in that horrible world out there#maybe shed even go with ian and tycho and maybe even dogmeat. and they could be safe from freaks and zealots. but no#when she finally did want to go home - she got locked out. reminded that she was never the best of the generation#and when she finally became that and saved everyone - shes still wrong. not good enough -> too good and too much#shed be a bad influence. she was meant to do the job she was given and shut up and be thrown away when she fulfilled her duty#which ties into her never really doing a job - she doublecrosses gizmo and that maltese falcon guy and the adytum guy etc etc#even when she gets tandi back she goes back to murder everyone there (raiders) though she said she wouldn't#but before it was silly. she was being smart and having fun adventuring even if it got difficult sometimes#but the master was real. katyas death was real. ian almost died. everyone who ever agreed to help her either died or almost died (followers#and bos paladins#)#like shit. lori was NOT meant to be that deep........#also i have thoughts on aria (vault dweller i played before the save got corrupted and i had to abandon him) but there less formed#because when i had to stop playing him and make lori he was only at necropolis for the 1st time#oh my god.... this too ties into lori being always secondary#my poor girl.... i think she died young#young as in like. 30-40
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skrunksthatwunk · 2 years
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somebody's probably already talked about this but i cant get that fucking mountain goats post outta my head and ive been talking to myself about love as a central theme of frankly most art but especially the art i love the most and i got to undertale and i need to talk about it
god it's all about love. wanting love, not wanting to lose it, grief, hope, determination, it's all fucking love in like 8 different hats. it's the monsters' love they show you (the mercy they show you) that allows frisk to help them get their freedom, it's the player's love for them that brings mercy in the first place, it's all fucking love.
flowey only got his power to reset from dying with his sibling after an act of love for them and you know what he did? he spent years of his life interacting with the people and world as much as he could, in as many ways as possible. he loved being with them and wanted to experience everything because everything was worthwhile to him because of love. and that greed for love led to oversaturation, led to boredom, led to him hurting people to feel anything in that absence of love. he never stopped loving chara, y'know? he was always looking for someone else to play with, someone who could make him feel like nothing had happened. so much so that he follows frisk throughout the underground, insists on keeping them and you there as much as possible, both bitter and needy. and he has to admit that frisk isn't chara to move on. you're not them. they're gone. asriel's gone, too, or will be after this. it's love for chara that leads him to break the barrier, as it was for asgore to try and stop you, and for toriel to take you in at the beginning and the end. it was the desire for love that kept him from letting go, and that caused him to harm so many, as it was for alphys, undyne, asgore, toriel, etc. him, arguably more than anyone else, hurt people out of desire for love and grief over it. and it's him acknowledging that desire and letting it go when it hurts people that sets everyone free.
it is love that makes you go back through the underground, calling papyrus and undyne and toriel in every room just to see their different responses. it is love that leads you to check everywhere before finally ending the game. it is love that leads you back to where your friends are standing, talking about how they've been changed by you, about how the love between you has led to this. it's love that makes you end it to see them happy, and curiosity (which in this case is often just greed for love) to some extent.
and it is love and greed for it that brings you to the reset screen. and flowey, whose desire for love almost consumed everything, that kept the people he loved from their happy endings, from their futures, that asks you to reconsider. having seen all you have, having seen his mistakes, and how happy your friends are now, are you willing to put your desire for love above their happiness? above their freedom? will you make the same choice as him after seeing what harm it caused, after finally getting what you wanted? because whatever reason for resetting you have, it'd probably boil down to love in some way. love for the characters, for the game (experience or lore), etc.
flowey's downfall, to some extent, was in the apathy that came from overconsumption. instead of cherishing the life he had, he had to know the rest. he couldn't let it lie, couldn't find peace about it and move on. he had one life, as do you, as do (in theory) these characters, one you would at that point snatch from them by resetting. flowey's asking you to think twice about whether or not you want to control them, to play with their lives for your own happiness. even if it is out of love.
because it always is.
#god idk does this make sense. fuck#i really like this game guys#idk i havent thought that hard about it in a while or maybe ever but it's soo so good god holy shit#xoxo sincerely someome who hasnt and maybe cannot play anything but true pacifist#yeah being in the ut fandom at like 12 was A Lot at least partially bc of how fucking HARD ppl go with resetting narratives#anyway i think it's cool#games and interactive media in general have so much power to engage the audience with and undertale rocks it with the best of em#literally so beautiful gggahrhuhaghg#the villain asking you if youve learned from his mistakes and pleading with you to not repeat them after all that is just#hhhhhh#i just think it does it really really fucking well#god#undertale#utdr#sheesh#sorry not gonna edit this its like 3am. youre getting the mush#im honestly rusty/never was that deep in ut lore so if i fucked up thats why#asriel's story fucked me up so bad as a kid and STILL fucks me up and now i kinda understand why a bit better#he just wanted to love people he just missed his sibling he just loved the way things used to be so much he did everything he could to#bring it back and it came back all fucked up. maybe theres a reason you only see the true lab in this route huh#and like with the amalgamates you can and should still love what's left. you cant make it what it used to be#but it is always worth loving anyway.#always fucked me up that you have to leave asriel though#flowey still deserves love. is it punishment by the narrative? is it tragedy? idk..#he's stuck in the underground he forced everyone to keep reliving#but idk. wish he got out. i hope he's well now#and yes im aware these are fictionl characters but the game wants you to treat them like theyr real and you should consider their happiness#and i feel like if you missed that then you didn't get undertale yk#and i think most people can compartmentalize their love for these guys and doing the other routes and that's fine#i just choose not to specifically for this game bc it confronts you about it. it's not completely passive (or acts like it)
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heyitslapis · 6 months
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curryshesus · 3 months
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jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral
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hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members
➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive
summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr
summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?
➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks
summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.
➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk
summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse
summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).
➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates
summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story
➺ tempest - by @kooktrash
summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.
➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga
summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.
➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia
summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.
➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess
➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover
summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.
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screampied · 6 months
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‘ DARLIN’ CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE ? ,
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ᡴꪫ‎ sum. if you knew you’d be sandwiched between two of your dad’s colleagues, you’d—actually let’s not finish that sentence. turns out you get walked in on by shiu kong, toji’s best friend who’s also your ex boyfriend. awkward…
wc. 6.5k
warnings. fem! reader, toji & shiu kong, threeśome, age gap + (reader's over twenty), unprotected, shiu walks in on you and toji, size kink, cowgirl dp, sucking toji's nipples, praise, degradation, shotgunning, double penn, overstim, spit, squírting, spanking, face-fucking, cunnìllingus.
dbf! toji masterlist.
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oh, everything felt like a fever dream…
one of those dreams that was so good that you just never wanted to wake up from—yeah, those ones. it’s been quite some time since your little fling with your father’s best friend took off, as if you’d even call it a 'fling' anymore. perhaps you were getting a bit too attached. maybe he was too, the both of you ended up screwing around literally any chance you got. so secretive, you’d almost gotten caught when your panties were found that one time. thankfully, toji came up with some bullshit excuse that was surprisingly believed. 
he had a single taste of you, just a taste and he was whipped. addicted just like that. it was a sunday evening, pretty quiet and you were currently drying yourself off from the shower. toji came out right after you, and he lifted you, pressing a sweet wet kiss near the corner of your lips. “mhm. how much time do we have, baby?”
“like an hour,” you’d mumble, your legs swiftly locking around his slim waist. toji’s kisses were always so sloppy and rough, a faint touch of passion trodding underneath before his hand found its way near your ass again. a towel wrapped around his waist, another wrapped around your torso, so wet. “i think he’s still out.”
“so i have ya all to myself again,” he rasps, leading you towards the bed, his warm lips coat a plethora of steamy kisses all down your collarbone before placing you down. “perfect.”
although, perhaps it wasn’t as perfect as toji initially thought. because who knew you’d get walked in on—again? not by your father thankfully, but shiu kong, toji’s long-time best friend, and no one other than your one and only ex-boyfriend.
shit.
you moan, feeling him lie you back down towards the mattress. toji stares at you, such an appetizing stare. he was feral, feral for you.
the two of you had been going at it for hours just moments ago in the shower—yet he wasn’t exactly finished with you. toji had stamina equivalent to a hefty stallion, he showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever.
your eyes peer at his body, his perfectly sculpted hardened pecs— he was a statue, his entire frame had you soaked. momentarily, he then starts to slowly peel your towel off. he’s slow, basking in your beauty, seeing your body was a sight he doesn’t think he’d ever get used to.
“damn. look at this perfect fuckin’ body,” he huffs out, taking in every sight of you. every curve, every angle . .
you felt your heart throb for a moment before he leans in to plant a multitude of chaste kisses near your tummy. toji then lolls his tongue out briefly, creating a wet trail to lick way down between your legs. “messy girl. ‘s still running down y’er thighs.”
“clean it off me then.” you’d tease him, parting your legs ever further for him. 
toji tsks, kissing his teeth before brushing a thumb between the slit of your folds. so damp, so swollen . . . swollen just from a few moments ago.
you watch as he gets on the bed, it sinks down a tad bit from his weight — a springing noise commences in the process. he decides to be a mere tease and blows against your pussy. near the very entrance part. the moment he watches you twitch as a response, he snickers. “ooooh. someone’s eager. look at how ya respond from just a little blow, baby.”
“t …. toji,” you’d choke out, grabbing onto the ruffled slightly wet strands of his hair. “hurry up ‘n just finish.”
“nah. girl. what i tell ya ‘bout rushing me?” he grouses, and his abrupt switch of attitude made you throb.
you whimper once you watch him graze a thumb down your sopping cunt. your body was still immensely wet from the shower, he brings a single kiss towards your folds before lapping up the remnants of your syrupy flavor. “now shut the fuck up ‘n let me enjoy my meal—”
the entire atmosphere gets indecorously ruined once your door opens, and the familiar person standing there is the last person you’d expect to meet eyes with.
“…….oh my,” a low rasp escapes from his mouth, and you sit up as well as does toji. there stood shiu kong, in nothing but his usual attractive business attire. his hands were deeply buried into the fronts of his pockets, and a typical lit cigarette stuck out of his mouth. “fushigurooo?”
“… shiu?” you’d mutter, and toji glances at you. 
“psh. don’t tell me you two know each other,” toji dramatically rolls his eyes, getting up to close your sprawled out legs for him. your mouth suddenly felt dry and shiu stares at you with the most blank, unreadable expression.
you awkwardly squeeze your thighs together. “uh, sorta.”
“sorta…? sorta?” shiu replies, and he’s amused. you lowly grumble to yourself, finding this entire situation crazily awkward. better yet, how’d he even—you had too many unanswered questions. “aw. now doll, don’t try ‘ta be all smug in front of this cheap bastard. she means to say, we used to be a thing.”
toji grows quiet before, clicking his tongue out of sheer annoyance before scoffing. “you’re joking.”
the entire room felt so hot, you had the most dumbest expression on your face the entire time.
talk about timing . . seems like the universe was never on your side.
your ex-boyfriend and the guy you were currently messing around with in the same room? only to discover that they had history also. talk about a small fucking world. you clear your throat, shielding your body with a cover before mutterng. “...shiu, why are you—”
“did ya forget, doll? i’m your dad’s handler,” shiu says with a mere bland tone. he shifts his weight before pulling his hands out his pockets. his posture was straight and he fixes his collar. the band of his watch glimmers in the light, so flashy.
god, he was so sexy…
forevermore with a cigarette sticking between his pink lips, his gaze that he gave you was so intimate. hooded eyes that you always got lost in, you could never forget shiu. “told your father i had to use the men’s room, only to find out you’re getting all nasty for this bum,” and then he smirks. “woah. toji you grew two inches.”
you were smart enough to know shiu was talking about toji’s height..
“…doll,” toji repeats with a mocking sneer, ignoring his little comment.
perhaps you were a bit delusional, but judging from toji’s tone he sounds… jealous? “still can’t believe you dated this guy,” he yawns, sitting up to strech before glancing at you. “who’s better in bed?”
“...huh?” you murmur, not expecting a question as such as that. again, the entire room felt thick of hot tensed air. you squeezed your thighs shut before realizing both of them were giving you the same intrigued stare. they favored each other if you squinted.
mayhaps your type was quite obvious. older guys with dark hair, tall and buff … the list continues to go on and on. “um, probably—”
“girl, don’t answer that.” toji grumbles, immediately cutting you off from speaking any further. 
shiu snickers, making himself comfortable by sitting between the both of you. “awh. mad that she was gonna say me, toji toji?”
“call me that again ‘n you’ll be six feet under, shiu.” he stares at him, and you nearly gasp once you feel toji softly place his hand down near your thigh. his touch . . . it never failed to make you practically weak in the knees. 
you feel yourself growing more hot the more toji gingerly skims a thum between your squeezed thighs before you speak, “so you two know each other?”
“yeahh, we fuck on the low.” shiu shrugs, and that makes the tips of toji’s ears boil. the difference between toji and shiu was somewhat cute yet humorous. toji was more laid back and stern whilst shiu was more playful and perhaps even a little dominant. “toji would never admit it though.”
“…..we’re just close friends,” toji bleats, and a near cute pout tugs on his lips. he’s still holding onto your thigh, yet it starts to go higher and you had to restrain yourself from moaning. “he works for me too or whatever,” and that’s when toji leans in close to you, scudding a thumb near your chin. “enough about him though.”
firmly, toji grips your chin before closing the remaining distance with a kiss. a rough kiss. you already lost whatever composure you had left, moaning right into his mouth the moment his lips mashed against yours. minty, he always had such a sweet candied flavor to him.
toji groans himself, feeling your tongue swiftly glide against his, giving it a brief suck.
the way you were somehwat of a . . . sloppy kisser so to speak, he always found it so cute. you breathe through your nose, warm jagged breaths colliding amongst each other before suddenly you’re pulled away abruptly. 
your peripherals spot shiu lingering near the corner of you. you turn while he holds your chin now, removing his cigarette before whispering in a low, “mmm. may i get a taste too, doll?”
“y—yes,” you mutter immensely, and you don’t even realize how fast you said it before shiu swipes a thumb against your bottom lip. so shiny, he’s missed your lips—he remembers how you taste, it was saved all the way in the back of his mind. he stares at you for a long while, a quite stern yet relaxed expression.
“now now, open that mouth for me,” he whispers, and you listen without even questioning. “just like that, goooood girl . .”
toji watches the two of you. he’s got the biggest scowl on his face and its adorable.
it’s not like you two were a thing or anything, but he wasn’t fond of sharing his new favorite girl.
once you part your spit-glossed lips, shiu blows a nice amount of smoke into your mouth. a decent sum of smoke. you moan, wanting him to kiss you and after long seconds later, he finally does. shiu’s kisses were more sincere and passionate. it was as if he was waiting to kiss you again for ages, it felt natural. you couldn’t lie to yourself, you missed shiu . . a lot more than you wanted to admit probably. nothing relatively bad caused the two of you to break up. the two of you just separate and decided to be just friends, but did friends kiss the way you and him were doing? 
probably… not.
a concoction of your own saliva concisely mixes with his, and you can still taste the rough scented smoke on his tongue. you feel yourself throb, grazing your tongue near his before toji pulls you off.
“okay that’s enough,” toji growls, and then you watch as he wipes your lips. you could tell he wanted more of you, and not like toji would ever admit it, but . . seeing you kiss shiu turned him on a little. “tell me,” he says, and his thumb runs across near your chin. he was so close to your lips, nearly inches apart from kissing you again. “who do you want more? me or that idiot?”
you keek at the two of them, both exchanging the same lust filled gaze before you hum, merely out of breath. “i— i want both..”
“greedy girl,” shiu snickers, moving a few strands of hair away from your face. shiu’s right beside you before he makes you sit right on his lap. you hear toji grumble before he starts to peel the cover that was shielding the top half of your body off. “i bet you’re still a mess from toji, huh,” and he gently reaches in between your legs to rub against your slick entrance. you moan, feeling shiu drag two fingers inside. he feels the residuum of toji’s cum that filled you to the brim, merely leaking all out before he chortles. “my, what a dirty girl. how’s it feel when i do . . this?”
you mewl out another whimper, feeling him curl his fingers further inside before shiu runs it against your swollen slit. “g—good,” and then you stare at toji who’s got the cutest jealous scowl. “toji . . kiss me.”
“don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do,” toji carps, and he cups your face, kissing you anyway. you lean into his embrace, and that’s when you feel shiu’s knee propped up right underneath you—right between your precious thighs.
you moan, your body moving rhythmically before sooner than you knew it, you were riding shiu’s thigh, you hear shiu cackle, a hand teasingly sliding up your frame. he bounces his thigh and a tiny squeal leaves past your lips as toji’s tongue roughly swipes against yours. you felt so hot, being felt by two men—two men that wanted you just as bad as you wanted them. the friction, it had you whimpering all inside toji’s mouth, you couldn’t stay still and they both found it adorable.
“so eager,” shiu murmurs, a hand squeezing against your hip. his roughly textured fingers always felt soft on you, you remembered his touch like it never left your body.
(mainly because it didn’t, it never did…)
you were still a bit damp from your shower, nearly dried off when shiu leans in to kiss near your neck. “toji doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you,” he whispers, taking a fleeting pause between each pull away he makes. “jus’ look at how y’er riding my thigh right now, doll. you missed this, missed me.”
toji turns your head to focus strictly on him now, deepening the passionate kiss before he bites gingerly near your bottom lip. you moan, your arms slinging around his neck before he eventually breaks away.
“shut up, shiu,” he scoffs before a hand trails down towards your ass, he gives it a firm squeeze before spanking it. “you want both of us, princess? ‘n look at me when you answer.”
the entire room felt clouded with heat — the tension, you could feel it from a mile away. you were pulsing, yet you were most likely sure it wasn’t your heart but instead right between your legs. you stare into toji’s eyes, murmuring out a sweet, “yes, i want you both,” and toji’s thumb continues to run against your lower lip. he teasingly pulls it down, darkened eyes flickering towards your mouth before you moan. “please...”
“such good manners for a good girl,” shiu utters, and he continues to twitch his thigh against your legs. you were still insanely sensitive thanks to toji earlier, feeling his hand rub right near the inner part of your thigh. the way his pants against your leg creates so much friction, you started to spasm—it was that easy. “i bet i can make you finish quicker than toji ever could.”
“oh please. is that a challenge?” toji gruffs, and he suddenly makes you lie flat on your back.
you swore things like this only happened in the movies—being shared between two hot men, coincidentally enough, you had some sort of history with the both of them. more-so shiu, toji was just a mere fling, nothing more . . or was it? “don’t get so cocky. i last longer than you anyways.”
“yeah? and how would you know?” shiu snickers, placing his cigarette back between his lips.
“ . . . . ”
their banter was so annoying yet it was practically laughable. you eye as they both sat over you, shiu makes you suddenly sit up before you’re laid flat on all fours. your palms dig into the silk cushioned sheets and toji’s right in front of you. “pretty girl,” he huffs out in a rough voice, grabbing ahold of your chin. “stick out that tongue ‘n say ah for me, baby.”
you comply with ease, slowly rolling out your tongue and toji groans.
always so obedient, you watch as he removes his own shower towel before being met with his hefty shaft. you could never get used to the sight, despite how feral he had you just moments ago.
“y’er pretty but you’d look even prettier with this bratty mouth stuffed all full,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. you moan, feeling as toji rubs and smears his fat tip against your lips. he then smacks against your tongue and you moan, oh so desperate for him to hurry. the way your tongue tried to sneak a lick but couldn’t due to the movements, cute…
toji’s tip was dashingly pretty, swollen with a pearly pink tip. he had a few specks of black hair near his base, the carpet most certainly matched the drapes. your tongue strums against the head before he grips a handful of your hair strands. a brief yank that makes you slightly jolt forward earns a sweetened moans from you.
“toji’s made such a mess out of you, huh,” shiu says from behind you, and you gasp once you feel him bring a kiss towards your ass. his kisses were sweet and gentle, he brings a single sharp spank to your ass simply to watch the recoil jitter right before his eyes and he grins. “mhm. missed this ass. look at how happy she is to see me again.”
your back arch you had going on was immaculate, hands propped into the fat sheets of the bed—your eyes remained focused on toji the entire time, slowly but surely lapping up the remaining sprinkles of pre that coat his tip near his frenulum. his most weak spot…
you made sure to take your time, purely savoring his sweet yet bitter taste. he groans, pulling your head forward just a second before you whine once you feel shiu’s tongue run against your soaked entrance.
“aw. toji got ya all soaked already? damn shame,” shiu grits, and your eyes suddenly droop out of pure pleasure the moment he delves his tongue right between your slit. you couldn’t lie, you missed his long tongue—so long, it reached many many places.
his technique was always killer, a bit different than toji. he preferred eating you from the back, the tip of his hooked nose prods everywhere, getting damper and damper in the process. he removes his cigarette of course before he dives in, and you could barely concentrate. you couldn’t process anything in that small brain of yours. it was merely impossible.
“eyes up here, girl,” toji reminds you in a rough pitched voice, bringing your head to face him once more. you felt the sensation brew and brew, nerves forevermore pulsing through your veins. your mouth was full, toji’s cock was so fat that strands of your own spit starts to seep out near the corners of your lips. pouring down like a waterfall, you were a drenched mess.
and he loved it.
“oh fuckin’ shit, how ‘bout that? y’er drooling for me,” he scoffs, bringing a thumb to wipe it all away. “such a mess,” and then he slowly thrusts his hips into your mouth, making you cling onto his beefy thighs. “such . . a . . fuckin’ . . messsss,” he’d coo gruffly between thrusts. you could savor his taste forever, such thick balls reaching to the very back of your throat. “how’s it taste. the meal okay?”
it was a mere joke, he knew you couldn’t physically reply due to your throat being blocked with such bulky inches of dick, but you nod.
“yeah? yeah. best meal you’ve ever fuckin’ had. don’t forget it.”
you whine, feeling shiu’s tongue resume against your clit. he knew just where to go, to pivot and slither his tongue past all the right spots. he’s always been a sloppy eater, occasionally breaking away to spit right onto your swollen folds. it was his favorite part. spitting on your cunt only to clean it up happily with his tongue.
“she’s so pretty,” he sighs, and then that’s when he blows on your pussy—straight on it. your eyes start to roll back, it was dramatic, really…
“get her niiiiice ‘n wet. i know toji always fails at that part,” shiu jibes, and that earns a vexed glare from toji. you tremble within him, his tongue being practically no match for you. you part your lips, nearly gagging once toji reaches way past near the roof of your mouth. “ooooh. that spot, baby?” he purrs in a seductive voice, watching his own spit trickle right in between your puffed folds. it was a sight to witness, glistening spit making your entire clit sheeny.
“she’s gonna cum, shiu,” toji groans, basically guiding your head by this point. you bobble back and forth, back and forth, a hand then wrapping around his erect shaft. your thumb skims against the few veins that coat near his dick, and you continue to moan out sweet muffled whimpers. so close, you could nearly taste your candied orgasm approaching.
shiu hums, two rough hands spreading your ass a bit further before he starts to create loooong sloppy sucks.
by that point, you were just near the edge. he was so good, you felt your nipples start to perk and tense—you whine, still taking toji into your mouth before you watch toji start to moan louder too. the both of you were approaching quickly, he huffs out a single breath before giving you a single head pat. “make me cum girl, fuckin’ do it.”
you blink thrice, feeling your eyes become watery for a brief moment. gradually, you swipe your tongue against his tip before sinking deeper down. your throat was so compatible, compatible with his inches. so much saliva ran down the sides of your mouth and down your chest. he had to keep wiping it like a true gentlemen.
gentleman was… a word.
waves started to grow, rising and rising. the build up of it all was purely exultant, euphoric even…
for the both of you, it felt so hypnotizing. equivalent to a tsunami about to create total havoc, he felt the ache in his thighs subside before building back up again. your maw lowers just a tad bit. and toji groans lowly, making your head go back and forth until he heard those sweet gagging sounds once more.
he was really that big, you always wonder how he even fit inside your mouth sometimes—he always made it for though…. just for you.
his favorite girl.
the moment toji cums, it’s so much.
it comes out in warm spurts. ropes and ropes galore.
your tongue catches it all, making sure to not miss a single drop. it tasted sweetly bitter, sugary but bitter. he shakes a bit, a hand still tightly grabbing onto the crown of your head as he finishes down your throat. whenever he came, he came a lot. toji never failed to leave your throat full, loaded with such velvety ropes of his honeyed flavor. “s-shittt,” he’d pant, feeling his chest tighten. hearing toji stutter was always cute, the swear that left past his lips sounded so enchanting. he swallows, and whilst he pulls out his now flaccid length, he grumbles. “stick that shit out for me.”
you loll out your tongue yet again, showing him that you proudly swallowed it all and he wipes a few beads from his forehead, feeling at such a high, “….phew girl.”
you end up finishing shortly afterward, your body jerking against shiu’s tongue. it felt so intense, you shook violently, legs shaking—contractions arising everywhere. his tongue slows down, still against your clit before the endorphins that ran through your body waves and roams all throughout. you bit your lip, finally coming undone and your moan was so pitchy and loud.
“forgot how noisy ya usually get,” shiu remarks, and you felt yourself still profusely throbbing. you swipe a tongue over your lips before moaning. once shiu gifts your ass with a final mean spank, it’s so rough. “awh,” and then he shifts his gaze towards toji—a very flustered-and-out-of-breath toji. “look at toji babygirl. ‘s all speechless. is he usually like this?”
“n—no,” you spat, intaking a sharp breath before sitting upright. your entire body still felt warm, tingles running all over before you stare at toji yourself.
he glares at the two of you, suddenly feeling cornered before sternly.
“shut the fuck up. ‘m not flustered,” and then he grabs ahold of your arm. softly, he pulls you into his chest before he falls back. “any-fuckin’-way,”we’re not finished here, little girl. we haven’t even gotten to the best part,” and you watch as he gives himself a few concise strokes. he was surprisingly hard a bit, despite his previous release. “shiu, get over here.”
“ah, so demanding,” he sneers. with glossy eyes, you reach for shiu’s black long slacks, giving it a cute tug. he hums out in sheer amusement, watching your fingers unzip near the fly of his pants and you could make out the bulge that was eagerly presenting itself. he moves closer, closing the distance between the two of you before toji briefly lifts you up. “oh i see,” he whispers, and then you feel shiu’s hands softly graze against your waist. “doll, can you handle both of us inside?”
“y— yes,” you quickly reply, throwing your arms over toji. he snickers at you, that same scar that runs across his lip contorting each time his facial structure twitches. again, this entire thing—this entire scenario, it felt like a dream. a fever dream.
a fever dream, you never wanted to wake up.
not now, not ever.
“yeahhh? let’s see,” shiu breathes, and he gingerly brings his hands towards your hips.
thumbs of his gently presses into your skin before he picks you up. by now, you’re hovering over toji’s angry tip. toji leans back, all manspread with that annoying sly grin. he’s waiting, awaiting patiently. he was never a patient man, but for you, maybe that could have been changed.
you moan, slowly but gradually sinking down onto toji’s thick length.
the sounds your cunt made upon impact was so lewd, salacious squelch after squelch—it ringed into your ears, so tediously repetitive. as you got lowered down onto toji, you wriggle your hips a bit, grinding forward and he grunts. “don’t fuckin’ do that,” he mutters, spanking you. “stay the fuck still.”
shiu gazes from afar, and that’s when he whips out his own hardened shaft — he breathes, smothering his glossed lips together before preparing to go inside of you too. into somewhere where it wasn’t so occupied, you let off a soft whimper once he inserts himself, real slow.
you were a ticking time bomb, gnawing down on your lip as you started to feel madly stuffed. you’ve felt stuffed by toji, but with them both? you felt extra stuffed, double stuffed even..
“s-shiu ‘s big,” you moan, feeling him slowly ease his way inside—everything felt so hot. your ears, the very tips of them was probably fuming with a scorching temperature by now. “fuckkkk.”
“always the right size for you, baby girl,” shiu huffs out, a thumb strumming against your sides. you stare at toji and he’s got the biggest pout on his face. the fact that you two had history irked him for reason—again, he shouldn’t care. it shouldn’t bother him. the two of you weren’t even together but still. it pissed him off, he felt threatened—as if he had some sort of competition against his best friend. “there we go, easy now. bare with me,” and his voice was so low, right up against your ear. being double stuffed between the two of them, you whine. your hand placement was right onto toji’s beefy pecs before you tap on him, yearning desperately for his attention.
“what.” toji grumbles, his tone was sharp and he grips onto your waist just as you’re about there at taking both of them fully. his pout was cute, briefly glancing at shiu who was propped right up behind you.
his pecs were so soft, chiseled even. it flexed a bit each time you ran a finger against his skin and he shudders a bit. “can i…” you mumble, a quick short second stare averts towards his nipples. they were so hardened—perky, you felt awkward at even asking but they were so big, literally right in your face. “can i suck on them?”
“girl what?”
you moan, starting to move forward against the both of them, a pace starting—so incredibly stuffed, they both reached deep inside of both holes before you clench. you huff out a single breath before repeating yourself. “i said can i—”
“i ain’t deaf, i heard what ya said,” he responds, bringing the left cheek of your ass a brief squeeze. “you wanna suck on my … nipples?”
“awhhh. don’t be mean, let her suck toji. i’d suck too,” shiu cackles, and he starts up a jerking rhythm. you moan out, feeling the girth of them both wholly stretch you out. it felt too good, drool-worthy. “your tits, i mean—pecs are fuckin’ huge man.”
“shut up. y’er both fuckin’ weirdos,” toji swats, clearly irritated. it was cute, he was cute. he then averts his darkened green eyes back towards you, pleading with your eyes. “fuck. fine….fine. just not so rough, ‘m sensitive there.”
you smile, leaning near his chest before softly rolling your tongue against his nipple near his left chest.
you earn an abrupt strained moan from toji, and he wasn’t kidding. he really was sensitive there, his head throws back slightly—so much was occurring that you kind of forget how you were being stuffed full of not only one cock but two. you were quite vocal yourself. slumped against toji as you start to suck on his nipples, you gingerly nibble against it and he slips off a whine.
“aw, doll. you got him soundin’ like a girl.” shiu titters, and his rhythm had you moaning with toji’s pec right into your mouth—you felt your mouth ‘pop’ in surprise, feeling shiu’s fingers slither down against your back. his touch, it was so warm. the way he’d strum his fingers alongside your back had you throbbing desperately for more.
“s—shut up man,” toji groans, a hand grabbing onto your head. he gives it an awkward pat, not exactly wanting you to stop because it feels good. the way you flick your tongue against his nipple, lathering it with your saliva—so lewd, he’s always loved that part about you. he ruffles your hair and for a split second you can see that his eyes sort of soften. “shit baby. just like that…”
toji’s rough and mean demeanor went away for a moment it seems.
you whimper once you’re brought back to reality. reality of feeling yourself soak up both shafts buried deep inside of you, buried to the very hilts. your cunt pulsed and pulsed as you’re just rutting back and forth against him. you’re jerking, it was so repetitive as the bed creaks. it created the same harmonic noises of squeaks and creaks, forevermore ringing into both of your twitching ears.
“f-fuckin’ freaky girl,” he breathes through clenched teeth, watching as your eyes playfully linger up at him. “no one’s ever— did that to me before.”
your body felt so warm against theirs, both bodies colliding against you—you felt the pace quicken, clenching down on both of them before a whine slides out. your mouth was still primarily occupied, sucking on toji’s nipple. with a muffled, “mhm,” you suck down a bit deeper, making sure to coat every part of the center of his pec with spit.
he stares at you the entire time with dark dilated pupils, sucking his teeth before he feels his cock twitch inside you.
he was turned on….
yet after a while it dawned on him, toji wasn’t gonna cum from being inside of you with shiu, he was gonna cum from you sucking on his sensitive nipples.
a hard reality to face, he was the epitome of embarrassed.
“fuck,” he growls, watching you still attach your lips against his nipples—shiu continues to stuff you full from behind, he starts to feel his breathing rapidly pick up. toji’s thigh aches as he’s just bouncing it against you. “shiu, quit fuckin’ looking at me like that.”
“like what?” he chortles, and you were approaching close too — it was coming quick, so quick that you could barely even fathom anything.
you were merely drooling against toji’s hardened pecs, feeling as if you were in heaven. you always did wonder what his pecs tasted like, and it didn’t disappoint. you moan, lapping your tongue up against his nipple once more before he groans out again. this time, it’s the low pitched moan he always does when he gets close. his jaw tightens and he spanks your ass, a rough smack that brings you back into reality again for the umpteenth time. shiu snickers, making you arch forward in toji a bit more before purring, “aw. gonna cum just from our girl suckin’ on y’er tits?”
our girl.
for some reason, shiu addressing you as his and toji’s girl made you throb a bit. actually, ‘a bit’ was quite the understatement. you were convulsing, stuck in a lewd frenzy as you were just spasming out. every few seconds you felt shiu’s thumb prod against the outer part of your hole, his strokes was slow yet deep and thoroughly thorough. same with toji, although he was starting to merely bottom out. more like he already was.
“fuckkk,” toji groans, and you suddenly lean in to kiss him. he moans right into your mouth, tasting bitter arousal all on his tongue. he pants heavily, short two second pants pouring into your mouth. wrapping his arms around you, he shudders from the sudden cold air that wafts against his bare chest.
he ends up finishing inside of you, such sloppy ropes of cum pouring right into you—you slump against his chest once more, intaking all of his warmth before squeezing him dry.
shiu was reaching his peak too, the more he picks up his frenetic pace, the more he was so close to give you another deep filling. it was so sticky, you felt the remains of toji’s sopping cum run down your dripping cunt, jerking forward against him you let off a moan before reaching down to touch yourself.
“ah. no touchin’ our pussy.” shiu swats your hand away softly, pinning it behind your back.
yet everything comes to a halt when your phone rings.
your ears twitch at the loud screeching ring of your ringtone, it was more closer to toji so you mutter.
“who is it?”
“y’er dad.” he replies, fat thumbs turning the brightness down on your phone whilst he squints.
“a-answer it. just tell him ‘m busy.” you whine in a shaky voice, merely feeling yourself about to burst right into both of them.
“okay.” toji snickers.
toji swipes the green button to accept the incoming call, putting it on speaker for you all to hear.
“heyyy honey… i was just calling to check on you. i had to go step out for a moment to buy some beer. want anything?”
“hey buddy,” toji snorts. “she said she’s busy.”
“toji?” your dad responds with a tone of pure confusion. there’s a long three second pause before he adds onto his sentence. “uh. what’re you doing with my daughter’s phone?”
“well shit. that’s a good question,” and you nudge on toji, watching him merely burst out into a straight goofy guffaw. you’re so close to your orgasm that your vision started to blur. stars clouded your entire eyesight, and you feel shiu guide your hips to its inevitable release. “heh. ‘m just joking man. she’s …….. takin’ the trash out. left her phone on the table.”
“oh okay! that’s so sweet of her, tell her i said thank you.”
“i’ll be sure to do that,” toji grunts, his thick base thwacking against you — he was still a bit sensitive from his previous release, and shiu ends up dumping a load into you after a while. you end up mimicking his actions, releasing yourself but toji has to cover your mouth. “since you asked, i’d take a pack of beer too. we still up for the game tonight?”
“yeah man! go packers!”
toji sneers, feeling you coat his entire lap with your slick arousal. you were soaked, a quavering mess before shiu pulls out.
“i’ll talk to you later though. drive safe,”
and he tosses the phone aside once your father replies with a cheery “alrighty then!” he was so oblivious. if toji hadn’t have been covering your mouth when you orgasmed, you were sure he was gonna hear. it was a lewd sight entirely, you started to suck on toji’s fingers and he eyes you with a sly smile. he wasn’t so whiney anymore, in fact— you ended up squirting on them both with them still shoved inside of you, so much too.
it came out so much, you were filled up with slick amounts of seed as well as damping yourself. you feel all against toji’s chest, moaning before shiu spins you around to kiss him. you lean into his touch, still tasting a good amount of smoke thay resides on his breath.
toji watches for a few long seconds before pulling you to kiss him instead—you moan, savoring both of their tastes before you feel toji’s fingers skim against the entrance of your filled up pussy.
“wonder how y’er dad would react at you doing this instead of taking the trash out. getting stuffed by his two friends, tchhh,” he mutters, delving two thick fingers into your cunt— he swirls it into a circular motion before pulling it out, staring at the mess that coats his digits. “shiu. c’mere.”
shiu inches towards toji before smirking. he gives his best friend a sly grin before humming. “yes, toji?”
“taste her for me.”
shiu lets toji slide his fingers into his mouth, and he sucks on them.
slowly, he glides his tongue across his fingers, tasting every inch. you found it a little hot as you watched, the way shiu stared at toji in such a playful gaze—you started to feel like the third wheel for a moment.
“mhm,” he mumbles, cleaning both of his fingers before he pulls it out. a pretty sheeny cobweb of spit left his mouth before he wipes his lips, dark irises focusing back towards you. “you taste so sweet on toji’s fingers, doll. like you always have.”
it was so filthy, they were filthy and you only wanted more…
you gasp once toji suddenly drags you off his lap, making you bend over for him. “i want more of a taste, bend the fuck over, princess.”
you do, being face first between shiu’s parted thighs and he gives you a subtle head pat, a thumb slides against your lips before he brushes his finger to make your jaw hang open.
you had heart eyes, metaphorically, not literally but even still—
a sweetened whimper pours from your glossed lips the moment toji’s tongue swipes against your folds, wasting no time to suck near your throbbing impulsing nub, tasting the aftermath that they both created with no shame whatsoever.
in front of you, you wrap a hand around shiu’s length, staring into his eyes before suddenly near the edge of the bed, you jolt at hearing your dad’s voice through the phone . . .
“what the actual fuck am i listening to?”
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bigwishes · 2 months
Text
Embarrassed?
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Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.
"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"
He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.
But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.
He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.
---
The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.
"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.
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His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.
He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.
Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.
"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"
Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.
Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.
"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"
He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.
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As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.
He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.
He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.
Cutcshhhhhhh!
the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.
"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.
Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...
but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.
He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.
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"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way
Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.
"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"
Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.
The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.
The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.
He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.
He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....
A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him
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Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.
He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.
Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....
Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.
"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"
Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.
"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"
the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them
The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.
Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.
"god...I'm such..."
His dick instantly got hard again.
"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"
Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.
"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"
Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...
Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.
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chunksworld · 1 month
Text
Swim
IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)
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A/N: #BreedMinju. Thank you to Kaede for beta reading as always.
————————
You never imagined in your wet dreams, in all of the times you masturbated to her, or even that time you drunk texted her a picture of you shirtless after one too many drinks at the bar that the woman you met inside the elevator during your first day at the company some two odd years ago would be in your apartment watching some rom-com from the 90s that you are too inebriated to remember the title of. Your heart is pounding, partly because of the double serving of triple shot espresso you perhaps shouldn’t have drank this morning and partly because she looks devastatingly stunning in that white shirt that completely conceals whatever shorts she maybe wearing underneath which further accentuates those long legs of hers—
“I don’t remember the TV facing this direction, unless there’s something on my face?”
Shit.
Aside from her God-given physical features, it’s the way she can toy with your feelings and flirt with you so effortlessly that always leaves you wanting for more. Every single little interaction with her is an adventure on its own; the way she would wink at you every time you pass by her in the office, the way she would walk up to you to fix your tie while telling you how your perfume “smells like the oceanside on a summer day” —whatever the hell that means— or how she would always give you words of encouragement with that bright smile of hers during stressful days. 
It should mean something, has to mean something. Right? You can’t ask anyone for advice either, not when you’re the only two people born on this side of the century in your department. Your coworkers are either divorced or having a midlife crisis, and quite frankly, you might be having a quarter-life crisis if such a thing exists. You can’t stay professional any longer, and you are more than thankful that you’re not at the workplace right now because the thoughts swimming inside your head are absolutely not safe for work. And it’s all because of this fucking woman that’s laughing as if everything is sunshine and rainbows: Kim Minju. 
It doesn’t help that she’s the prettiest woman you know. even more so than the handful of girls you’ve hooked up with during college. Evidently, you are not the only one that shares that sentiment because you don’t miss the old way some of your older male coworkers would give her a certain, disgusting look that you wish to erase from your memories and you know she deserves better than them. She deserves someone like you, but you don’t exactly know if that feeling is reciprocated. But as to how far you can push your luck, you haven’t found out the answer to that yet—perhaps tonight is the night. 
“Are you still with me? Or did my goddess face lure you in too deep?” 
That now makes the two of you not paying attention to the movie—granted you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times during college when you were a hopeless romantic but who are you to turn down Minju when she specifically requested it? Plus, that’s not your concern at this very moment when she scoots ever so closely to you and the heat her skin radiates is enough to burn you. “Honestly, I don’t blame you if you have a crush on me. I sort of have that effect on guys.” There’s that fucking wink again, and the way she pouts her lips as if she is posing for a selfie. “I admire your resilience though, most guys would have me moaning their names on their bed already by this point.”
“Not funny, Minju.” It really isn’t, not when she’s mere inches away from you and if you were just a bit more drunk now those irresistible lips of hers would be meshed with yours now. You try to look away but you can’t, they captivate you to no end and you don’t even want to look away now—the sheen on those cherry red lips, the way they stand out against her milky white skin, the way she then bites her lower lips as to tempt you even further, the way sweat slowly drips down the side of her face and to her neck and you think they’d look good with your bite marks all over them.
Even if you look down, her succulent thighs and legs are all that will pervade your senses and you won’t be able to stop thinking about how you just want to rip whatever garments she’s wearing underneath and have her spread her legs while you eat her out like she’s your last meal on Earth. “You can’t just keep doing this for years and not expect me to make a move eventually.”
“Then what’s stopping you, hmm?” 
Minju somehow shifts even closer to you, her lips practically brushing against yours, her eyes staring deep into your soul, her hands resting on your thighs. She probes into you even deeper, much deeper than any other time and emergency sirens are popping up in your head. There have been many close encounters like this, way too many for your liking. 
The way she would wear pencil skirts on certain days and make it her mission to bend over in front of you as much as possible to show the unreal curvature of her ass—then proceeding to smirk as if she doesn’t know how much your cock wants to burst through your pants. The way she would purposely bump into you and pretend to fall so you can pull her into an inadvertent hug. 
Or when she would wear those dresses that hug her curves tightly during galas and she would give you a courtesy hug for a second longer than corporate policies would allow. Or when she kissed you during Christmas party last year and claimed that she had to do it because you two were “underneath a mistletoe.” 
It all has to end tonight, because God forbid you have to spend another night alone on your bed making a mess while you shoot ropes after ropes all over yourself thinking about her. It’s exhausting having to play these games with her when you’re 99% sure she is into you and you have to take action now before someone else does.
“Minju, I don’t think you’re ready for what I’m packing down there.” You test the waters even further, carefully studying her facial expressions while trying not to get lost in her eyes. It’s quite a difficult task when the alcohol is hitting you harder by the minute but when a sly grin appears across her face as if to challenge that statement, you know you have her right where you want her.
“Oh trust me, I know what you’re packing down there.” Minju glances downwards at your erection and your sweatpants are doing a poor job with how it’s about to poke through your pants. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be spending my Friday night here when I could be hanging out with Chaewon and Yujin.” It’s getting dangerous now, her hands traveling down your body and cupping your length through two layers of clothing.
And honestly you might as well be naked now with the way your cock reacts to her touch —your tip is leaking heavily and your breath starts to shorten. “So what’s it gonna be? You can’t tell me you have a different plan for how this night is going to end.” You can’t push back any further, you won’t push back. You take the first dip, lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she takes this opportunity to swing her legs over and straddle you on your couch—the movie in the background is long forgotten and all you care about right now is her.
You straighten yourself up and wrap your arms around her waist possessively; two years of pent up sexual frustration finally coming to an end and you make the most of it. Her lips are everything you’ve dreamed of; soft and sweet and succulent and you can’t help but think about how they slot in with yours perfectly as if you were meant to kiss her all this time. Your hands travel to her face to cup her cheeks, pushing her head deeper into yours and you notice her hands encircling around your back. 
You take a break to catch your bearings, staring deep again at her now lust-filled eyes and you get a front row seat to the facial expression you’ve been dying to see for forever now.  She moans into your mouth when one of your hands slides underneath her dress shirt to feel her smooth skin and the ridges of her abs which itself isn’t a surprise—what is surprising is the lack of bra when you travel further upwards and you come into contact with tits that you are sure is perky and round. “What a fucking slut, Minju. No bra?”
Your suspicions are confirmed when you practically rip the buttons off her shirt and throw it somewhere in your living room and your mouth waters at the sight of her breasts, they are definitely not the biggest you’ve seen but the way they sit on her perfectly shaped body with all of her curves and intricacies is more than enough to make up for it. “What’s the use of wearing one when I knew we were gonna end up like this anyways?” But before you could dive down to taste them you find your shirt being removed as well and the hunger in your eyes is mirrored by the way she’s staring down at your own pack of abs. 
“I mean if I had it my way I would’ve told you to be shirtless already with only your boxers on before I came over but you can’t have everything in life right?” She is as handsy as you, those delicate fingers mapping your chest and your stomach with every little touch as if to decipher where her lips would go later. But you absolutely cannot wait any longer, grabbing her hand and placing it on her sides while you devour her nipples. Taking her left breasts between your lips while massaging the right one and the whimper of your name that escapes her lips is downright sinful while you alternate between the two. 
You lick, slurp, and at times even get your teeth involved—just anything that can get her squirming and writhing on your lap is enough to fuel you. Even more so when she pushes your head deeper into her chest and she’s moaning “more please, fuck” in between whimpers.
Minju is one needy girl and that’s one fact that you find out quickly when she starts to grind on your hips and you can feel just how warm and wet her shorts are. You inadvertently bite on her nipples and she screams your name at the sensation. You utter a “sorry” in response but it doesn’t really matter when she gets off of you and you think you’ve absolutely screwed up. Fucking great. She stands up and you are about to give a more sincere and heartfelt apology but those thoughts are quickly washed away when she removes her shorts and then her panties.
“I want to see that cock. Now.”
You don’t waste a single moment before you proceed to do the same thing to your undergarments and the sight of her fully naked in front of you causes you to leak even more precum with your cock freely exposed to the air. Minju looks hot—which in itself might be an understatement with the way she’s fucking you with those wide eyes of hers, the way her nipples are glimmering under the lights of your living room thanks to your saliva, the way her abs contract with every breath she takes, the way those stocky thighs are slick with her essence. Forget those wet dreams because none of them could match witnessing the actual Kim Minju naked in real life in your apartment.
Minju squeals when you drag her back down towards you to make her straddle your lap again. No more games, no more foreplay, you slowly sink her down your cock and drink in her moans when she buries her face in your shoulder. She is suffocatingly tight, extremely wet but tight and you almost spill mere seconds after finally inserting your entire length inside her. You wince slightly as her manicured nails press into your shoulders and eventually your back. “Fucking—shit—If I only knew—” 
Your pace is slow and methodical, even though you want to just pound her into oblivion and have her screaming to the point your neighbors will complain the morning after. She is Minju after all and she deserves that respect, but as to how long you can control yourself you don’t know. For now, you are content to just have her in your arms and revel in this moment that you’d never thought would ever come. Just feeling how your cock molds perfectly inside her and how her small bunny hops gradually increase over time and her face becomes lost in pleasure is more than enough.
Especially when you feel every inch of her goddess-like body pressed against yours when she arches up to you; her thighs bouncing against yours, her abs grinding against yours, and those breasts pressed against your chest. “—so deep, fuck—harder!” It’s about time you take control and you do just that, you plant your feet to the ground and you grab handfuls of her asscheeks with each hand before thrusting up in time with her thrust and Minju’s gone completely delirious now. 
Gone are the coherent sentences as they are now replaced by expletive-filled chants of pleasure. She’s damn near crying on your cock, tears welling up in her eyes due to pleasure and so you pull her face away to get a glimpse of her sweat-misted face and how her eyes are unfocused. You don’t know what came over you but you feel your heart skip a beat seeing such surreal beauty up close and personal so you pull her in for another makeout session, continuing your long and hard thrusts while your tongue ravages her mouth much like your cock does with her pussy.
“Fucking hell, we should’ve done this sooner.” Another kiss on her lips, then another lick of her nipples—make that two licks, no in fact, you devour them once more. It’s becoming clearer that they’re starting to become your favorite part of her body and it’s completely justified. “ I can’t believe I had to jack off to your pictures when you were just one call away.” The woman in question doesn’t respond but she blushes, the raw honesty of your words is enough to reveal that shy and demure side of her again despite the situation you two are currently in. 
Minju just brushes her hair aside in response while looking away, taking the initiative to bounce on your cock and you let her take over once again. “W-Well I’m here now—“ A particularly hard thrust deep into a certain spot inside her has her clenching around your cock much tighter than usual, you take mental note of this “—I hope I’m as good as advertised.” Of course she is and even better than whatever scenario you were cooking up inside your head, but instead of showing it through words you just smile at her and hope that it’s enough to show your admiration and you let your body do the talking.
You’re noticing how tired she’s becoming being on top so you don’t waste any more time and pick up the pace while still letting her guide the way. It’s silence between the two of you aside from the sounds of passionate lovemaking and that is just enough to push you two closer to the edge. You feel her clench tighter around you again and likewise you can feel your balls throbbing in anticipation too. It’s been a stressful week at work and there’s no better place to unload than inside her welcoming pussy. You’re just as close to her as reaching your orgasm and it’s becoming extremely difficult not to do anything but to burst inside hers. 
Forget the lovemaking, you lift her up by her asscheeks and stand up from the couch and you immediately feel her limbs coil around your body as she gasps at the sensation of being fully seated by your cock. You start to thrust up again, this time more relentlessly without the restrictions of the couch and she’s leaking even more now and you can actually feel her juices stream down your cock and you know she’s extremely close. “D-Don’t stop, please. Don’t you ever fucking stop!” She’s bouncing much higher than before, almost completely unsheathing your length before she crashes back down on it again and now she’s actually crying in pleasure. 
“Hnnghhh! Fuck! I can’t, I can’t—” There was certainly no way she was going to last any longer. “—G-Gonna cum on your cock!” And a few more of those wild thrusts is all it takes to set her off, going limp and forcing you to grab hold of her even tighter so she doesn’t slip off—a task given difficult given how much sweat is emanating both of your bodies but you don’t care especially when all of those juices causes you to slip out of her for a minute and you don’t care about the mess you two are making on the floor at this very moment when you’re about to follow her with your own orgasm. 
“Such a fucking good girl for me, Minju.” You slide back inside her, this time it’s easier thanks to the lubrication she provided and you can’t help but grit your teeth and close your eyes. It’s too much, all of this. What transpired tonight and what it means for your future. It’s all too much to handle and you can’t hold it any longer. You’re about to give her the biggest load you’ve ever given anyone.  “You deserve all of this, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad.“ All she can do is nod as she is still sensitive from her own orgasm but with the way she’s wrapping her arms around you tighter she wants it as badly as you do. “Gonna fucking cum inside.”
“Please! I want your hot—hnggh—I want your cum. Please. When a beautiful woman like her gives you such a permission you don’t waste it, you hold her tight as you begin to pump ropes after ropes of cum in her pussy with every deep thrust. You don’t want to stop cumming, can’t stop cumming—your legs going weak and forcing you to sit down on the couch while you continue to unload deep inside Minju. It feels fucking euphoric, feeling your load drip back down to your cock and balls as that seemed to drain the soul out of you. 
You’ve been holding back from the moment you first saw her all those years ago and there’s no better feeling than this, not even a promotion could rival how addicting having sex with her feels and you want more. You want to continue diving into the ocean that is Kim Minju even if it means drowning, nothing else matters but her.
As if to try to coax more cum out of you, Minju continues to grind her hips while kissing you. This time it’s much more slow and gentle while you lay her on the couch and hover on top of her. It’s beautiful how her hair, though disheveled, cascades down her shoulders and fans out on the cushion below. 
Her limbs are still wrapped tight around you, your softening cock starting to harden while you begin to fuck her once more—you’re making a mess of the couch with how you’re fucking your cam back into her but it doesn’t matter when she’s going to be filled again. “You still have enough cum for me? I’m surprised.” 
You place kisses on her neck this time, making sure to leave marks dark enough that no amount of foundation can conceal it once Monday comes around. Surprisingly she doesn’t protest, perhaps she does want everyone to find out about you two. “Guess I didn’t do a good job of draining you, huh?” You respond by fucking her harder into the couch, feeling the furniture creak and move with every thrust and you render her speechless once again. 
Lean down to capture those bouncing tits in your mouth and continue to work her to another orgasm which wasn’t difficult to accomplish considering how sensitive she still is. It didn’t take long to set you off either and you unload whatever remaining load you have, which is still plenty considering you almost passed out with how much you left inside her just ten minutes ago.
She urges you to sit up on the couch again and she gets off of it to kneel down in front of you before then taking your flaccid cock in her mouth to clean you off. The sight is pornographic, the way she shows off your combined juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it all. “Hmm, we taste good together. I don’t mind having some more of that.”
Minju gets off her knees to sit down right beside you and the way her naked body glistens under the natural light outside your apartment is an unparalleled sight that has your heart swooning and doing backflips. “Well, I’m free this entire weekend.” And perhaps shooting your shot when all of this has already happened is quite a ridiculous predicament to be in but you don’t want to be selfish after all. Surely a girl like her has plenty of suitors you’re not aware of and you don’t want to tie her down especially when nothing is official yet.
“I guess I could be convinced.”
Those ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But it was all worth it the moment she gives you that smile that makes your heart race even faster. And despite kissing her for what seems like a million times already, this one has special weight. As if to tell the world that the most beautiful woman you have ever known and perhaps will ever know is now yours and there’s nothing that could change that. Screw all of those disgusting old men with their mid-life crisis because your quarter-life crisis just ended in the most satisfying way possible.
You’re embarrassed by the way you whine the moment you don’t feel her lips on yours anymore but you are quickly consoled the moment she stands up and turns around to flaunt that perfectly shaped ass of hers. Suddenly, blood rushes to your cock again as if you didn’t cum twice already. 
“Come on, take me to your bedroom.” Minju eyes you like a piece of meat once again when she pulls you up to your feet. 
“There’s one more hole you forgot to fill.”
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ghostfacd · 10 months
Text
I BET ON LOSING DOGS.
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
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PART TWO
summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.
warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return
author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓
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You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.
Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.
“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.
He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”
Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations
“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”
He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”
You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.
“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.
“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.
“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back
Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.
After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.
“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”
“Who hates you Coryo?”
“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”
“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.
“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.
“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”
But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.
- - -
The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.
You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.
You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.
His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.
“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.
He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.
He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.
“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.
“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.
“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”
- - -
Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.
You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.
Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.
“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.
“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.
“But Coryo—”
Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.
Well, he thought, this was it.
This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.
“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”
But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.
- - -
“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.
You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.
“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.
“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.
“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”
“I know! I was going to—”
He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”
His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.
“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.
- - -
Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.
Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.
So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.
Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.
But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.
He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.
What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.
Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.
He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.
If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.
“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.
“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”
“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”
Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.
“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”
You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.
When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.
“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”
Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”
Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”
God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.
“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.
Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.
If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.
- - -
The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.
“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”
You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.
“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.
“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.
“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”
“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”
He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”
Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.
“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”
But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.
You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.
Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.
Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.
Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?
He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.
If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.
And this? It was just the beginning.
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nervoushottee · 6 months
Text
With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.
Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),
Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!
*not edited at all babes*
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Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 
It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 
After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 
It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 
And that’s when he saw you. 
“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”
Nuri.
Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.
‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 
That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 
“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 
“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 
Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 
“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”
The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 
“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 
“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 
“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.
“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 
Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”
”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”
After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 
—— —— —— ——
The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 
His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 
‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.
The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 
He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 
He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 
Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.
“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 
“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”
How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.
“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 
“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 
“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 
You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 
He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.
You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 
What the hell is happening to him?
“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 
Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 
“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.
“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 
“Yes please.” he begs softly. 
And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 
He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 
So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 
You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 
“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 
‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.
When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.
“Touch me and you will see me.” 
He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you
Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 
He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.
Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 
When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 
His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 
You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 
“Let me see you.” 
His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 
“Show me again.”
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jellyfishrnice · 5 months
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Yandere! Rich suitor idea
Hear me out-
The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!
Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.
The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.
Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.
Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.
And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.
Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.
But, the attraction was simply one sided.
You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!
He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.
And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.
-
"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?
"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.
"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.
You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.
"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"
"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?
"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"
"I don't want other options."
You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.
You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.
"I'm leaving."
"What?"
"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.
You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.
But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.
"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."
"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.
You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.
"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"
"No." He says in a much firmer tone.
It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.
"You're not leaving."
-
HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO
Not proof read forgive me 😔
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bahablastplz · 6 months
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Roommate: Chan x Reader
Roommate Chan who wants to help you destress with a massage after a long day... Content: Just straight-up smut Warnings: Fingering, praise, degradation, a little humiliation WC: 1100
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You were laying on the couch with Chan. 
Chan has been your roommate for some time and your friend for longer than you could remember, so to be sprawled across the couch, limbs somewhat intertwined and a movie to be played in the background was nothing unfamiliar. Especially after a long day at work, taking the time to unwind together was nothing new. 
But today you were just so tense. Stiff all over, muscles tense and sore, you were unable to find relief. You suppose that your gym workout from yesterday had been a little intense, and you were certainly feeling it now. 
Subconsciously as you watched, you started to punch your legs a little bit, trying to get the tightened muscles to relax. 
Chan’s hands shot out and grabbed your own, making you freeze. 
“What are you doing, babygirl?” He sounded concerned but the nickname made sparks fly through your body. 
“Nothing,” you say, trying to explain it away. Of course, Chan would never let that happen. 
He doesn’t let go of his grasp on your hand. “You call punching your legs ‘nothing?’” He inquires. 
“My legs are just a little sore,” you sigh. “It was leg day yesterday.” 
“Ahhh,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it did. His eyes are back on the screen, but his hands are grabbing your legs to place them over his lap, pulling you even closer to him.  
“What are you–” 
“Shhh, helping,” he says. His big, strong hands are on your legs now, his dexterous fingers working into your muscles. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him working away the tension, his thumbs moving over your thighs to rub deep yet gentle circles into your skin.  You’re aware of every movement, however, and you hate how flustered his actions have you. Chan never shied away from physical touch, and he’s even given you a brief platonic shoulder massage before. As your roommate, of course he’s seen you in more vulnerable scenarios, seeing into the more casual or intimate aspects of your life, but this… you couldn’t help but stare at the man who seemed so unfazed. 
As he rubs into a particularly sore area, you let out a tiny groan. 
“Feels good?” he asks, a small smirk splaying across his features but his eyes glued to the screen. 
You nod your head. The tone of his voice has arousal running through your entire body and your breath hitches as he moves higher, still only mid-thigh. You hope he doesn’t catch your reaction–surely he won’t, he’s not even watching you.  
Lightly he slaps the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Use your words,” he scolds. 
“Yes,” you answer, too fast. “Feels good, Chan.” 
“Good girl,” he praises, though the way he coos the words makes it feel less like a compliment. Your eyes stay glued to him and the way he stays unaffected; his words make you squeeze your thighs together lightly, searching for a little relief. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab the flesh of your thigh hard between his fingers, causing you to let out a moan. 
“Such a filthy girl,” he says. “Here I am trying to give you a massage and make you feel good but you’re over here having dirty thoughts, aren’t you?” His hand stays between your legs, rubbing your inner thigh but not making its way higher. You squeeze your legs harder, trapping his hand between your legs. 
“Need you, Chan. Touch me, please?” You decide to just say it, just needing to get past the hurdle knowing it will be worth it. He doesn’t let up as easily as you think though. 
“Oh? But I am touching you, sweet girl,” he says, pinching your inner thigh and causing you to spread them open for him. “Or are you talking about your needy pussy?” He trails his hand up, resting it against your clothed core. You nod your head unabashedly and he laughs at your excitement. His eyes are on you now, finally, and you burn under his gaze. You watch as he pushes the fabric to the side and dips his fingers shallowly into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his fingers. He pulls out to show you how soaked his fingers are. 
“Look how wet you are for me, baby,” he praises. “My sweet, dirty girl is so needy for me, all from a little touching.” 
“Just for you,” you confirm, and you watch him take a deep breath, affected by your words. Sliding his hands back down to your center, he gathers more of your arousal and spreads it around your clit, circling slowly around the area with his fingers. It’s obvious from his stare that he is more than alright with taking his time with you, relishing in the way that you fall apart on his fingers. He hisses when you spread your legs open wide for him, giving him full access. He moves fast, grabbing your shorts and ripping them off of your body. When you close your legs again he tuts, grabbing them and forcing them wide open for him, slotting his body in between your legs. 
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He slides two fingers into your entrance now, shallowly fucking his fingers in and out of you. “Such a slutty pussy, for me.” You relinquish control and let him take over, submitting to the urge to arch your back and let out a loud moan. He continues to babble about how he can’t believe he’s waited for so long to have you like this, how he’s been thinking of touching your pussy for so long, and you start to tremble beneath him. 
“Chan,” you say, trying to warn the man, but he shushes you. 
“I got you,” he says. He shoves his fingers into you deeper but doesn’t change his pace, curling his fingers. “Let go for me.” That’s all you need to find your release, completely coming apart for him on his fingers. He sweet talks you right through your orgasm, slowing his movements. 
You watch as he pulls his fingers out of you, looking deep into your eyes as he puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “So sweet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He reaches over your body for the remote, clicking the power button and turning off the device. The action makes you laugh. 
“What?” he laughs with you. “Don’t act like you were actually watching that, I definitely wasn’t.” You scoff at his words and screech as he picks you up, cradling you into his chest. 
“Your room or mine?”  ***
Author's note: Sorry not sorry for the double Chan post, he is my bias though so don't be surprised...
Masterlist Recs
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Text
If It All Fell (5)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, references to nonconsensual situations (very brief, nothing graphic, and not Az)
a/n: Hope this clears some stuff up ;) More to come and especially more Az to come. Thank you forever for reading and sharing your thoughts! This is getting me through the semester <3
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 6 ♡
Series Masterlist
~~
Azriel walked you to your room. 
He knew exactly where to go, which corners to turn and which to pass, which was very convenient as you still found yourself struggling with the task. The House of Wind, as everyone so lovingly called it, was practically a maze for someone with no memory of its twists and turns. But Azriel had absolutely no trouble getting you to your room. 
Once you got to your room, however, he appeared to have many troubles. 
“You can come in,” you prompted, looking over your shoulder to find the shadowsinger with his shoes at the threshold. “I promise I just cleaned it. Or, at least I’m pretty sure I cleaned it. It’s hard to know where to put things when I only just started…” 
Your voice trailed off. Upon further inspection of the man standing just outside your door, you found that he didn’t simply look hesitant to enter. He had his hands pressed to the doorframe, his head slightly leaned into the room, and his eyes were slowly trailing along your belongings. The expression on his face read as forlorn, but his body read as tense. 
He had been here before, obviously. Of course this would be hard for him. You probably had everything in the wrong place and he had just told you about the difficult time he was having—how close the two of you had been before you lost everything. 
“Um,” you began, pressing your lips together tightly when his gaze flickered to you. “Maybe you could… or would you mind maybe telling me where my bags are? If you know. Mor gave me a surface-level tour, but she didn’t seem to know everything.” 
Azriel looked down to the ground beneath your feet. He blinked back up to meet your eyes. “Of course,” he replied, with so much practiced restraint in his tone you weren’t sure how he gritted out the words. 
When he stepped in the room, it felt as if something shifted. He walked between tables and furniture and he fit like a puzzle, his wings never brushing anything, his eyes never casting down to analyze his body in the space. He looked like he belonged—he looked like he completed the space. 
Something finally felt right. 
Nothing felt right… but this did. 
Azriel pushed open the closet doors, rifling through a cabinet you had only glanced at before. After a few silent moments, he walked out with bags in hand. His shadows hadn’t followed him. They drifted towards the bed instead, burrowing into the blankets and pillows until the plush surface became dark. 
Azriel zeroed in on them as he placed the bags by your feet, staring off at his shadows as you brought your attention back to him. This close, you were able to catch his scent—the cedar and night-kissed air you’d recognized many times in recent days. But it had been so faint before, like he had been gone for weeks and the scent still lingered, or he had been in the room but only for a brief time. Nothing like now, with his chest only inches from your face. 
“They seem to like my bed,” you laughed, just a small, breathy sound. An attempt to diffuse some of the untouched tension in the room. 
The side of Azriel’s mouth curled up. You watched it rise, silently relishing in the heat of his body as it radiated into the space between you. “I can see that.” 
He wasn’t a man of very many words—that’s something Mor had thankfully shared with you—but you wanted to fight against that. You wanted to hear the soft, low rumble of his voice. You wanted his laugh to spark in the air, to feel his words against your skin as you had just a few moments earlier. Azriel told you he didn’t hate you, that he was close to you, and suddenly the space between you felt impossible. 
You just wanted to hear his voice. 
“Have I changed things much?” you asked, heart thudding when he brought his gaze down to you. “I don’t know how much time you used to spend in here… or currently spend in here, I suppose—it’s only been a few days—but I’ve moved a few things. If you could tell.” 
Azriel took in a long breath. “Actually, you—” he shook his head with an expression you could only decipher as baffled “—you put everything back. Cassian and Feyre, they moved a few things around when you were being brought home. Things that might have… well, we just didn’t want you to be overwhelmed.” 
Overwhelmed. 
“We should have known that was a ridiculous idea. You’re too brilliant, even without the context.” 
Warmth flooded you; one compliment from Azriel and it was as if nothing mattered. You didn’t need your memories, you only needed this.
Azriel’s cheeks colored as if he felt the rush of emotions himself, his eyes bright. 
No, that wasn’t right—you needed your memories. You needed to remember each and every time he had looked like this. 
“Probably didn’t help that there were a bunch of empty spaces everywhere. If you leave nails on the wall it becomes quite obvious that something belongs there,” you quipped, a small smirk playing at your features. 
Azriel laughed. Not a full laugh, but one that you had no idea you were missing before. “I will be sure to pass on the message.” 
“Good. Cassian has many messages coming from me, it seems. Conflicting ones as well.” 
“Right, of course. I will convey to him that you missed his presence earlier, but also that he is awful at hiding things from an amnesiac.” 
“Perfect, thank you, Azriel.” 
He gazed upon you, eyes flickering to every corner of your face. 
They rested on your lips and then your eyes, trailing up until his hand followed to move the strand of hair that had wisped across your forehead. He brushed it away with delicate fingers, not a touch of hesitancy in them. Like it was natural for him, normal. 
And maybe it was. 
“I don’t know what to pack,” you whispered, trying to keep some of the lightness in the room. “Can you help? I haven’t a clue where most of my things are and you appear to be much more knowledgeable.” 
Azriel drew his hand back, his eyes closing for a few long moments. 
You wished you could delve into his mind the way Rhysand could—that you could understand some of the pain written in the tight clench of his eyelids. 
“Of course I’ll help you.” 
It began with him gathering things from the connected washroom. He entered the tiled room and opened drawers without fault or mistake, collecting perfumes you had been gravitating towards and zipping up products you hadn’t even found yet. He packed your brushes and jewelry as if he’d done this all before, as if your request for help wasn’t really a request, but an expectation. 
“Have we traveled together before?” you found yourself asking as you followed behind the shadowsinger, a bag hanging from his arm. 
Azriel smiled, turning to you with a glint in his eye. “A few times.” 
You were very close friends, then. 
Azriel led you back to the closet where he pulled a few articles of clothing from the hangers, holding each out for you to approve before he neatly folded them. You denied nothing, rather surprised by his taste and sense for whatever the weather was like in Day. 
He moved further into the closet, half of which was sparsely filled. Maybe you filtered out your clothes with the seasons. 
Or maybe something was missing. 
Azriel paused.
You watched his scarred fingers brush over the purple dress you had worn on the first day you spoke to him after waking up. He rubbed the material against the pad of his thumb once, and then twice, before closing the closet doors and taking an abrupt step back. You stepped with him. 
The shadowsinger said nothing.
“All done?” you asked. “Anything else I would need at Day?” 
His shoulders rose and fell. Some of his shadows returned to make revolutions around his body.
“Azriel?” 
“I—I’m sorry. Give me a moment.”
The shadowsinger stalked over to the bed, went to sit, but then seemed to think against it and began pacing instead. You tucked your fingers into your palm as you watched him, trying to hide the discomfort you felt as his clear unease. 
Had you done something wrong? 
Maybe you were being too familiar. This friendship between you was new and comfortable and exciting, but that was for you. 
For Azriel, there was a gap, an immense amount of pain and missing connection. 
He didn’t hate you, and that was… wonderful news, but this was also uncharted territory. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have asked for his help—shouldn’t have invited him in. 
“Azriel, I—” 
“I need to explain this to you,” Azriel began, running a hand through disheveled locks. “I need you to understand why this is so hard. I don’t want you to assume this is your fault or that this is anything other than what it is.”
You nodded, but he didn’t look up to see your confirmation. 
Azriel sighed and his wings flared slightly, returning back to his body in a quivering motion. 
“I am terrified, y/n.” 
This time, Azriel did look up to catch your gaze. 
“I am terrified because this has happened before. It’s like I’m reliving it. Like you’re reliving it but you just don’t remember.” 
Your fists unfurled as your brows met a point. “No one’s told me—“ 
“I know,” he breathed out, defeat the most prominent emotion on his beautiful face. “Last time this happened, the more we told you about the past—about certain aspects of your life—the more it hurt you, y/n. You’d… you’d scream until your lungs gave out every time we tried to share something new. It was like that for weeks.” 
The Illyrian forfeited his internal battle with the bed, dropping down into a seat on the foot of it. Unsure of your place within your own room, you simply followed him, standing in front of his bent knees, eyes prompting him to continue. 
He watched you as you moved. 
“Has anyone told you what you do for this court? Your job?” 
You shook your head. 
Azriel continued. “You work as an emissary between courts and continents, but that’s more of a cover—a more comprehensible title for those outside of our circle. It’s hard to explain, but that power Rhys mentioned? It’s—it’s as if you have this intuition. For everything. You look at things, at people, and you just… know them. You look past lies and you pick up on things that are seemingly impossible to catch.” 
Your head shook as Azriel fumbled over each of his words, confusion swirling in your gut. “That doesn't make any sense. Mor said that Rhys found me working at some boatyard by the Sidra. She said I used to help build vessels—there’s no way I have a power like that.” 
“You do,” Azriel affirmed. “Rhys only went to find you because he heard of a girl building boats from memory. You took one look at him and knew what he wanted. Rhys said he barely had to offer you the job.” 
It was a struggle not to grind your teeth together in frustration. 
You used to know everything. 
And now you knew nothing. 
Your head began to hurt, or maybe you were just noticing that it had never stopped hurting.
“You said—” you started, tone heavy with vexation. Your eyes couldn’t find a solid place to land “—you said this has happened before. What does that have to do with these powers?” 
Sensing the rise in your mood, Azriel seemed to even his own out. A balance between the two of you. You became agitated, he became calm. But you could tell he was struggling.
“Around 270 years ago, after you’d been working for the court for a few decades, Rhys sent you to Day. It was routine. You were going to gather information for a High Lord’s summit meant to take place there, but really, Rhys wanted you to scope out the area. To get insight on any plans, any secret dealings. You were meant to be gone for a few days at the most.” 
Azriel’s fists clenched atop his knees. His face remained impassive.
“You were gone for six months. Gone. No one could reach you, Helion had assumed you went home already. It was right after you and I… became friends, so I was worried for you. More than the others, but no one was without worry. We found you eventually, but you—”
Something choked. Azriel choked. His head hung down and you replayed the last few of his words in your mind—the way they tightened and then tapered off. 
This was too much. 
Conveying comfort in the only way you knew how—in the way this family tended to love—you stepped between Azriel’s legs and brought a hand to his cheek, raising his face until his glassy eyes came into view. 
“You don’t have to talk about this,” you whispered. “If it’s too hard, we can stop.” 
Azriel’s jaw quivered. His next words seemed to tumble from his mouth without warning. 
“Fuck, I miss you.” 
It was simple instinct that led to your reply. “I’m right here.” 
Something stirred within you, tugging lightly. Your heart, you deduced, beating so fast it was playing tricks on you. The shadowsinger in your hands twisted slightly, just barely so that the corner of his mouth touched your palm. Your heart tugged again.
“You didn’t remember anything, like now,” Azriel revealed, speaking just as you were about to pull away. You stopped yourself, feeling as if your touch was an encouragement to speak. “It was worse though, you were in so much pain. Any time you tried to remember anything, or even just tried to learn, it was like you were being pierced through the skull. You—you screamed so much.
“But it didn’t take us very long to figure it out. My spies in Day found the culprit and it was easy to capture him. He was weak. Strong powers, but weak in every other sense of the word. It was another Daemati—like Rhys. He became infatuated with you during your time in Day. He knocked you out, found a way to use your powers against you, to make them hurt.” 
Azriel shuddered. His mouth got closer to your hand like he was leaning into it. 
“It took a few weeks to get him to fix it. But those months, y/n—the time you were gone. You don’t remember them. I can only imagine what you went through. And when we brought you home you hurt so badly. So that's why… why us going back there is hard. Because this is all so similar and if it’s happening again I can’t…” 
“Azriel,” you softly called, sure that this was the most amount of speaking the shadowsinger had done in a while. Sure that he needed a break. A respite. “It’s not the same, is it? You know that. My head hurts, but not like that. I don’t struggle to be reminded of the past. I learn new things. There is no evil villain waiting to take me away.” 
“Y/n—” 
“It’s not the same. I might not have access to these all-encompassing powers you speak of, but I can tell you that much. I’m sorry for what you went through before—that you had to watch a member of your family go through that then and then now… but it’s different. It’s different and I’ll be okay.” 
His pond water eyes stared back at you as you attempted a reassuring smile. You felt his knees press against your thighs where you stood between them, and the pressure spurred you on. You ran your thumb along the high point of his cheek, relishing in the flutter of his lashes, gravitating towards him to relish in that closeness as well. This moment felt like yours, and something was telling you it was yours. That no one else could have this with him. 
But you didn’t have your powers, your fae abilities, so maybe that feeling was nothing but hope.
Your thudding heart lulled you into a long breath. 
“Maybe, if it would put you at ease, you could stay with me while we’re in Day? At my side, I mean. You could whisper everyone’s names into my ear so I don’t look like a fool and make sure I don’t get lost—” 
“Yes,” Azriel replied, sure and resolute with no traces of the impending tears that had made his hazel eyes a pretty pool just moments before. “I won’t leave your side once. I promise.” 
His devotion made you pause, surprise evident in the rapid blinking of your eyes. You wanted to protest, to tell him he didn’t need to promise something so taxing, but determination had set in his brow, and Azriel—your friend—wanted this. Needed this. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you, Azriel. For telling me all of this even though it was hard. For being here for me even though I know that’s hard, too. You’re a wonderful friend. I can’t wait to continue to find that out. I promise to be just as wonderful.” 
“You are already the most wonderful thing in my life.” 
Part 6 ♡
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jjk4isen · 11 days
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ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.
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❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞
summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.
desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.
notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P
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must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.
in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.
and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.
ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.
including you.
your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.
perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.
trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.
what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.
the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.
the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.
at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.
you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.
after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.
you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.
“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.
“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.
“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.
“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.
suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.
as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.
“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”
───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺
the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.
you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.
weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.
did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?
no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.
it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.
the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.
“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.
without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.
“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.
“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.
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when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.
fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.
“follow me” they say, holding the door open.
obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.
only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.
“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.
don't kid yourself.
no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.
your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.
“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.
“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”
“why should i need to do that?”
“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.
beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.
the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.
“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.
gee must people be so cold around here?
you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.
───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺
only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.
uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.
is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.
and the silence that followed.
it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.
maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.
“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.
with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.
the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.
perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.
you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.
sukuna thinks you're pathetic.
just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.
your flesh and blood.
to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.
sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.
so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.
just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.
“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.
you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?
“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.
“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.
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your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.
you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.
life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.
and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?
it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.
weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.
he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.
but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.
and that angers him to no end.
what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?
‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.
so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.
the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.
“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.
the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.
is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.
───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺
after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.
it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.
out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.
they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.
the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.
the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.
it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.
yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.
thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.
however, her dreams were short lived.
yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.
she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.
sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.
she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”
yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”
she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.
“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”
sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.
“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.
and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.
sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.
“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.
“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.
it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.
and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.
yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.
you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.
but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.
“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.
sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.
upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.
but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.
he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.
his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.
your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.
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the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.
you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.
“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.
you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.
“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.
“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.
“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.
“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.
“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?
“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.
“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.
“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.
“but i don't know you.”
he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.
“then you can start from this moment forward.”
“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.
“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.
“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.
“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.
he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.
without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.
and they were working.
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the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.
“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”
if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.
your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”
since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?
“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.
you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.
pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.
uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”
you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.
“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.
“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.
four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.
a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.
seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.
the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.
he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.
“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.
“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.
“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”
“i would let you.”
it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.
taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.
he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.
“aren't you going to stop me?”
“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.
now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.
and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.
but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.
sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.
your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?
“human–”
sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.
your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.
sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.
“next time i wont.”
“as i have said, i will not stop you.”
───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺
the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.
and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.
uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.
sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.
the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.
“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.
but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”
sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”
“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?
“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.
“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.
“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.
“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.
the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.
“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.
“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”
as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.
“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.
“what are you suggesting?”
“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”
───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺
everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.
all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.
it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.
okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.
so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.
that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.
the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.
you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”
for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.
yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.
with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.
your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.
“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.
“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.
your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.
but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.
“human.”
“i have a name”
“human.”
the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.
“you do realise i can heal myself?”
a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.
“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.
“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.
“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.
“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.
“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.
“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.
he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.
“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.
“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.
an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.
your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”
sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.
“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.
he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.
and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.
sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.
when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.
as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.
it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.
───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺
sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.
but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?
it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.
a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.
sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.
he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.
and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.
sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.
and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.
instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.
he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.
that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.
any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.
however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.
he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.
he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.
another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.
sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.
for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.
he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.
“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.
“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.
a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.
sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.
his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.
but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.
your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.
“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.
“answer me” a plea.
still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.
“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.
the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.
his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.
“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.
“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”
sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.
perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.
but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.
“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.
with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.
“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.
“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.
“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”
sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”
kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”
great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.
“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”
sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”
conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.
and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.
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