#I would understand it more if it wasn’t something that could easily go to the food shelf and had to be thrown away instead
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witchygagirlwrites · 23 hours ago
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Real Man
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Jay Halstead x Reader
Your ex pushes Jay too far
Warnings: Suggestive?
“So I was thinking” you cut your eyes up from your computer to your boyfriend who was currently sitting on the edge of your desk giving you one of those smiles he knew could get you to agree to damn near anything. “Thinking what honey?” he shrugged “Will’s birthday is tonight. Wanna go out to Mollys with him and Nat? Get a couple beers? Maybe we can go get dinner or catch a movie after?”
You felt a smile slip onto your face “Date night after we ditch your brother so him and his girl can go home to her kid?” he nodded “Exactly” you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth like you were having to think about it for a second and laughed when his eyes widened “I’m kidding Jay! Pick me up at seven” he shook his head “That was mean baby”
You turned in front of the mirror to check your reflection once more. The dress you picked was one of Jay’s favorites on you, along with the boots. You heard a knock at your door and checked the time, six fifty five. Damn.
You walked over to the door and opened it to find Jay on the other side. He turned when the door opened like he was about to say something but when he saw you his mouth snapped shut. “What?” you asked, suddenly double thinking about your outfit. He shook his head “Are you trying to not go out? Because that dress makes me want to stay in” you felt your face warm along with pretty much the rest of your body at his comment.
“C’mon baby, Will is waiting. You’ve got plenty of time later to do with me as you please” one his eyebrows raised and you winked at him then grabbed your jacket “Let’s go” you felt his hand on your lower back as you locked your door and then on the way to his truck it slid lower to gently squeeze your ass. When you gasped lightly he leaned closer, letting his teeth graze the soft skin of your neck “I’m gonna take my take with you later”
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. Maybe Will would understand? No no no. You had to meet him.
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Jay had his arms around your waist and you were leaning back against his chest. Him and Will were playing darts and while you could have sat down you didn’t exactly mind an opportunity to be in his arms. His lips brushed your neck before he stepped away just long enough to throw his dart and it landed on another bullseye. You laughed at the look on Will’s face “Why are you playing darts with someone who was in the rangers that we consistently use as the help from above and expecting to win” Will cut his eyes at Jay who explained “Her idea of help from above is a sniper on the roof”
Will nodded “That’s a good point” Jay laughed and squeezed your hips “Damn sweetheart I already beat him in four games” you nodded turning your head to look back at him “It was getting sad” “Oh was it?” Jay laughed, leaning down to catch your lips in a quick kiss.
________
“Well if it isn’t my leftovers and the sad sap who got em” You immediately stiffened at the voice. Your ex Lee Richards.  A narcissist, toxic, insecure asshole. The complete opposite of the man whose arms you were currently in and who must be very drunk to think this was a good idea.
Jay turned, pushing you behind him as he did so “Walk away Richards. I’ll give you one chance” You cut your eyes at Will, silently begging for help when Lee had the nerve to say “Ya know that first time you fucked her we hadn’t been broken up but what? Three weeks? She was probably thinking about me”
Jay laughed and it was anything but a humorous sound “And yet the entire time I was between her legs she damn sure wasn’t screaming your name when she was begging me for it.  Maybe she was just tired of little boys playing grown up and needed a real man to show her how a woman should be treated. Now get the fuck out of my face before I break your jaw”
Lee ever the idiot swung on Jay who easily blocked the punch with his left hand and threw a punch with his right that connected solidly with a sickening crunch. He dropped onto the floor, holding his face. “I’ll press charges” he threatened around the swelling but Nat, Cruz and about half a dozen other people all piped up saying it was self defense. Jay winked at him “My word against yours. You work for a nobody I work for Hank Voight. Get up” 
Lee scrambled to his feet and made a beeline for the door. You reached for Jay’s hand and he let you turn it over “I’m fine baby, his face isn’t hard enough to hurt me” you kissed his hand then whispered in his ear “That was the absolute sexiest thing I have ever seen” he cut his eyes at you and a smirk slipped onto his face “Happy birthday Will, I’ll catch you later” then grabbed your hand.
“Where are you two going?” Will called as Jay tugged you behind him through the bar and out the door.
__________
Your back was against Jay’s truck while he worked the sensitive flesh right below your ear with his teeth. A low moan of his name slipped out of your lips, your fingers finding their way into his hair. He moved back up to your mouth, leaving a bruising kiss against your lips “Did it turn you on that much? Me defending you?” one of his hands slipped under the hem of your dress and when you didn’t protest that the two of you were outside, visible to anyone and instead just left your legs fall apart wider he laughed against your lips “Damn, remind me to knock idiots on their asses more often”
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highlordofkrypton · 3 days ago
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This is the story of Lucien Vanserra, as told in his own words, of his journey through his immortal life. Lucien recounts how he, a vampire, fell in love with the radiant and innocent Tamlin and how he destroyed both of their lives.
Finally, the time has come for your main gift @yaralulu for this year's @acotargiftexchange. This is the first of five chapters, so I hope you are seated and ready for bloody and toxic yaoi! Special shoutout to @olenvasynyt in this chapter, hope you like it and thank you for the inspiration!
TAGS: Explicit (oh yes, there will be smut), Lucien Vanserra/Tamlin, Alternate Universe - Vampire. More tags to be added along with new chapters.
READ ON AO3 OR UNDER THE CUT.
Vampires aren’t real.
If they were, surely the world would know about them by now? Science has advanced far too much, along with surveillance and weaponry. There’s no way that a vampire could get away—
No, they could.
The nights are more active with workers and party goers alike keeping the streets alive. People go missing all the time, and the understanding of disease and unique conditions could easily explain away the symptoms of vampirism. Fear of the sun? No, an allergy—skin sensitivity. Sunglasses? It’s nothing more than the consequences of a hangover. Nesta has seen it all, and she unravelled every single thread with plausible explanation and proof. If this one doesn’t work out, then she’ll know: vampires aren’t real.
Her manicured fingers trace the winding banister, up to a plain apartment. She would have imagined something much more wondrous and lavish for someone with the means to live forever, thus accumulating limitless wealth. Instead, he lives among the people, blending in with what would be his next meal. I could be next, she remarks, made of flesh and blood just like his neighbours. Is this worth it?
Curiosity is an insatiable hunger, and poverty deepens it. This could be the discovery of the century, and it would have her name on it. Nesta Archeron would carry her surname out of disgrace and finish her father’s work—the work that had him branded as a madman. People are much kinder to her, likening her interest as esoteric. It works in her favour that witchcraft and astrology are becoming more and more on trend. But she doesn’t want to be a trend. Her hunger lies in the truth, no matter how painful and terrifying. Her work is Putlizer worthy, she just needs the right subject.
Her knuckles rap at the door, just below the metal plaque written ‘406’.
Nesta had met the breathtaking stranger at the bar, drinking her woes away. Another opportunity slipped through her fingers in favour of lesser, more amenable male colleagues. Her mouth is too sharp, and her brain too smart. Maybe journalism isn’t for me, she’d lamented into a glass of whiskey, and at that very moment, he’d slid into the stool beside her. Her lips parted to reject him, but they hung there in muted surprise as she stared. He was beautiful, except beautiful didn’t cut it. He was breathtaking, so much that she could not find the words to express the depth of his handsomeness. Not quite pale, his pristine skin carried an olive undertone which she was sure would ripen nicely under the kiss of the sun, if he cared to venture out into it. His eyes—one amber, and the other pure gold—glinted in the darkness, as if stealing the light in the very room. There wasn’t enough light to make them glow like that, but that made him all the more entrancing. His long auburn hair was tied into a loose bun, strands artfully placed around his face to frame his high cheekbones and sharp jaw. He was so beautiful that she could not doubt that he was something more.
They got to talking, and he made her laugh in ways that were not obnoxious or at her expense. His flirtations were smooth and subtle, but not so much that she did not notice. His words were like the undertones of sweet maple in her drink—present, but not overwhelming and yet, it marks the difference between a good whiskey and everything else.
“I have your story,” he said so easily, as if changing lives were something he simply did at the drop of a hat. “Do you believe in vampires, Nesta?” He slipped a card into her pocket, and she had run her fingers over the gold printed address over and over again before finding herself here. 
The door swings open, and there he stands, nearly a foot above her in all his ethereal glory. His red hair had been let loose to fall across his shoulders like soft silk. She yearns to reach out and touch, her curiosity running wild in his presence. Instead, she tightens her grip on her purse and tips her chin up in defiance of the nerves bubbling inside her.
“You’re here.” The velvet of his voice sends shivers down her spine, and the delicate smile makes her weak. Does he know its power? He has to. His confidence is unmistakable. “Come in, Nesta.”
The apartment is modest, to say the least. It is the antithesis of its inhabitant who naturally commands a crowded room. Here, in the plainness of the room, he is the only thing that matters and it makes her painfully aware of him and his every movement.
He takes her coat, but she keeps her purse, and guides her to the small living room. He sweeps his slender hand towards the single seat while he takes the couch across from her. His arm rests along its back, extended and possessive, and he crosses his long legs. Although he’s the one being interviewed, his gaze weighs on her. It dissects her, and his thoughts are unreadable. He is nothing more than pleasant, patient and willing.
Nesta quickly takes out her things, as if not to waste his time—as if he didn’t have plenty of it. Her recorder is placed between them on a cheap ikea coffee table of pressed wood; she prefers it over using her phone, too easily distracted by the pop of notifications if she were to leave it out within view. In her lap, she keeps a notebook and a pen to jot down any questions that float to mind so as to avoid interrupting him.
“Are you ready?” He asks her. “Do you have enough battery on that?” His eyes flicker down to the recorder.
“I have my phone if ever,” Nesta explains. A small part of her thinks this is some kind of prank, and that she came all this way for nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time I went home with a man and ended up disappointed. What do I have to lose?
She sits back into the chair. “You were saying vampires were real?”
“I’m not just saying. They are real.”
Nesta smiles, and chuckles softly. “You’ll have to excuse me if I seem… incredulous. In my line of work, people make bold claims all the time and they rarely have the proof to back it up.”
If her resistance bothers him, he doesn’t show it. He is nothing more but comfortable. He watches her for a long moment, smiling again. His lips spread to bare his teeth, and the smile widens and widens to reveal two pointed fangs in place of his canine teeth. Before Nesta can argue about the use of false teeth, his eyes light up, and he speaks a single command: “Undress.”
Oh, yes, she would like that. She would like nothing more than to please the man before her. Nesta looks down, fingers darting to the buttons down the centre of her shirt. She frees the topmost one, then moves to the second one.
“Enough.”
Nesta blinks, her attention still pointed downwards to her blouse. A small gasp escapes her as she looks to Lucien in horror, and though his display had been innocuous, the realization that she is not safe prevails. He could hurt her, and she would be willing.
“I won’t harm you, Nesta. I just needed to show you that the things I can do… they are beyond human ability.” He keeps that pleasant smile on his face.
“Why me?”
“Because I want to tell my story. I have lived a long life, and to think that one day, it could fade to nothing,” he turns his head, glancing out the window, thoughtful. “It was not a good life, and I thought to confess to a priest, but I do not care for God’s forgiveness. Perhaps by helping you, I can atone for what I have done.”
Fear simmers beneath her curiosity, but Nesta won’t leave. She wants to know, she needs to know what could haunt someone like him? The terror he brings makes him even more attractive, and Nesta loathes herself for that thought. She nods. “Go on.”
“My name is Lucien Vanserra and I am a vampire, like my brothers and my father before me. I can no longer remember when I was born, or how I became the way I am, but what I remember is the first time I felt alive.” As he speaks, he looks beyond her, to a distant past she will soon be privy to. “And the day I died.”
Vampires don’t die… do they? Nesta isn’t sure what he means, whether he’s hinting at the way he was turned, or something metaphorical. Regardless, she knows exactly what her hook is going to be.
“My early life is nothing more than a haze, walking through this world as something more than human, but less than…” His pink lips purse, looking for the words. “Less than,” he simply decides, and Nesta simply understands. Sometimes, there are no words for that feeling, but only someone who has experienced it will understand. 
“You see, my father is very old and controls most of the world’s… interests. He has worked very hard to build an empire. My six brothers and I were his tools to achieve that.”
Were? These brothers, are they biological?
Nesta knows better than to interrupt a story. She jots her question down, and leaves it for later in case it’s answered later in their evening together. He pauses to give her time to write, and when she lifts her gaze, her breath catches yet again. The weight of his full attention is something. It brings heat to her cheeks, and she glances away, as if to wordlessly ask him to do the same.
Lucien glances away, lightly resting his chin on his knuckles. “His will was all that mattered. He would starve us, make us fight each other for scraps.” He looks back at Nesta before she queues another question. “Of human meat. We’d have to try and draw blood out of it.” Again, he turns his head and finds that distant point to stare at. “It was more of the same. Pain. Hunger. Hate. It all blends together after a couple of centuries. I can’t imagine what it is like for my father. Thousands of years,” he says breathlessly, shaking his head. “And so stagnant.”
“He’s still alive?” The surprise draws the question out of her before she can help it, but Nesta is rarely apologetic, even for the most honest of mishaps.
A purse of the lips is all his father is worth it seems. So little emotions have poured from this man before her; perhaps that’s her responsibility then. Not only to tell his story, but to feel it on his behalf. His life is more than words on a page; she’ll make sure to do it justice, to give it the second chance he so clearly yearns for.
“I would say so. My father has a way of… surviving even the worst odds. Or perhaps my eldest brother has finally dealt with him.” The corner of Lucien’s lips twitch, mild annoyance rearing its head. “I find it strange how humans are the one who show more grace than any of the gods you all worship so.”
“She was my first, a peasant woman in some distant countryside. The details of the place have long faded, but I remember her face, clear as day. The most beautiful human I had ever seen.” Lucien looks at Nesta when he speaks the next words. “At the time.”
“My father had tired of me and my weak heart. You see, out of my six brothers, I fancied his methods the least. Humans are… not cattle to me. They’re small, and weak, yes, but what they excel at is beyond the physical.” He lifts his index finger, tapping over his heart. “It’s here. With every beat. Jesminda embodied that with her every breath. She was better than all of us put together.”
“But that… comes later. I tend to digress when it comes to her.”
The corners of his lips twitch again, and this time, Nesta thinks it's the ghost of a smile come to haunt his melancholy.
“I was starving, and for my kind, hunger is madness. I lunged at her. I was going to drink her dry. I didn’t want to, but there is nothing that can stop us when we are… like that. Or perhaps I am simply a weaker creature. I don’t know how she knew, and she only ever told me that I looked desperate, not evil. She offered me her wrist to drink. I don’t remember letting go, but we both survived the encounter.”
Lucien leans forward, holding his hands out for Nesta’s notebook and pen. She hands them to him without complaint. He begins to draw.
“I loved her, and it was my first time experiencing such a feeling. You cannot truly understand love until you have been truly devoid of it. Anything else is fascination. Affection. Complacency. It was like seeing the sun for the first time and realizing that it does not burn me. It was a drink that could sustain me for the rest of eternity, even in the smallest doses. She was my heart, and every memory of her is a beat in our song.”
He finishes the sketch, handing the notebook back to her. Jesminda is beautiful —a match to his ethereal beauty. Nesta traces her fingers over the lines drawn, etching clearly defining her darker skin tone and long dark hair. Her irises are left clear, likely a pale colour. Are they as sharp as Lucien’s? No, Nesta doubts it. Jesminda has a warmth to her, even in a simple quick portrait drawn by the only soul left to remember her. Was she a vampire, too? Did she choose to stay by his side as long as she could?
“I didn’t have a chance to turn her,” Lucien supplies, and that leaves Nesta even more in awe. 
A human as beautiful as a vampire. A human who’s kindness cleared the haze of Lucien’s meaningless existence. Nesta is careful not to smudge the ink, still tracing her outline as if she could learn more from Jesminda herself. She wants to know what she saw in Lucien, but that is a mystery lost in time, isn’t it?
“I wanted to, believe me, but my father rather enjoys inflicting pain. I do not think he found greater joy than tearing my heart right out of my chest and making me watch.”
Lucien goes quiet for a long, long moment. When he goes still, it’s unsettling. There is nothing natural to it. He might very well be made of marble. 
“I’m so—”
“Save your breath. You’ll see, I’m not worth your pity. Looking back, I think he did us a favour.” He shifts again, peppering in the smallest mannerism tied to humanity. “The story isn’t about her because I don’t think Jesminda would want anything to do with the thing I’ve become. No,” he says to himself. “She’d grieve, I would think. Hm. Yes. She saw something in me that was worth believing in, and my father killed it along with her.”
“I promised a story about a vampire, and you will soon see that the only thing we share in common with you is this mortal plane, and our features. The rest…” Lucien huffs, amused. “Is a fantasy you’ve all made up to cope with the existence of the devils walking among you.”
“I have an amendment to make,” Lucien says, suddenly.
“Oh?” Nesta asks softly, invested in where this is going.
“This more than the story of how I lived, and how I died. This is the story of how I became my father, and it all begins with him. Tamlin. My love, my mate and my greatest sin.”
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mascwoman · 19 days ago
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I think I might be brain-poisoned from working retail for so long, but I had a guy ask if he could take something home with him because it’s a product we don’t carry and it was just like?? no?? why would you ask that???
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sooniebby · 11 days ago
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ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄
w.c › 6k
Warnings › faceclaims. Part 1. Slow burn, some slight romance with Hyojin (but Mingi is still the main love interest).
Plot › you begin to learn just how obsessive Mingi is
Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Four Years Ago
“They’re going to add another member. To fill a gap, they feel that you guys another need main vocalist.”
When Dawon had told Mingi and the others that, it was like hell broke loose. They all couldn’t believe that the company really believed they weren’t good enough, after all that training.
Hyojin, however, didn’t see the problem with it. He could actually understand where the company was coming from—even if he did hate them for other reasons.
He didn’t think the others couldn’t sing but there was something he felt was missing. A more mature voice—sultry he’d say.
Which was why when everyone met you, he could understand why the company put you in the group. You were the package deal, minus rapping, but that was okay. And while he’d never tell Yohan, you were a much better leader than he could ever be.
So he was a bit upset for you when the other members were set on ignoring you.
The group was finally filming for their debut single. It was a school boy concept, young love and all that. Hyojin didn’t care too much about that. As long as the song was good and he wasn’t forced to make garbage music, he was fine.
“Okay, guys, we’re going to do pairs for this shot,” Gaeul said, getting the boys attentions. “The director said the pairs don’t matter. So, you guys can pick.”
Hyojin didn’t have to put two and two together that it would get awkward fast if they got to who would be forced to pair with you.
So, he eagerly stood up from his seat, “I’ll pair with (Name)-Ssi.” He said, fixing the tie to his uniform. He ignored the glances the others gave him as he looked over at you.
You were staring at him with a shocked face before a wide grin pulled on your lips, “Okay.”
Hyojin smiled slightly. He moved to follow you to the shooting area when he caught a glimpse of Mingi. His eyes widen as he saw Mingi staring at him as if he wanted to murder him. The boy was picking at his pants as he glared at him.
Who knew someone so young could make such a scary face?
Though he didn’t understand why Mingi seemed so angry? Did he.. want to pair with you?
That didn’t make any sense—he didn’t exactly talk to you.
Oh well, Hyojin had other things to worry about.
He was a bit awkward for the camera so he wasn’t having the best of time filming. The amount of times the director told him to not look like he’s having a war flashback was too many to count.
The set was a bedroom, stuff randomly around. This director had wanted it to feel a bit more real and only gave you and Hyojin the direction to act like students who were discussing how to confess to their crush.
Hyojin didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to do that but you seemed to understand.
Once the camera began to roll, you basically stole the scene with ease. Acting cute seemed like second nature to you. Hyojin just followed whatever you did, letting you lead him.
Just as the scene was about to end, you both sat on the bed as you opened a fake note. Hyojin leaned in to see that there was a little stick figure drawing, causing him to crack a slight smile.
He glanced over and felt himself freeze, your face close to his. You were staring at him with eyes he couldn’t really describe. A soft gaze as a slight smile pulled on your lips.
Did they put lipstick on your—
“Cut!”
“Great job, guys!” Gaeul said, walking over to you two. You easily pulled away as Hyojin tried to think about what just happened.
“Thanks for pairing with me, Hyojin-Ssi.” You said, smiling at him. The rest of the sentence didn’t need to be said.
“I wanted to pair with you… uhm, you don’t need to speak so politely with me.” He said, deciding to bridge the gap.
Your eyes widen before you eagerly nodded, “okay. Call me Hyung then, Jinnie.”
Jinnie?
Oh man, you were too cute.
Gaeul coughed, clapping her hands together, “great, you two are cute! But c’mon, you guys need to film a quick video for the vlog the Dawon is making.”
You and Hyojin joined the other members back in the dressing room. Dawon was holding a camera as he motioned for the group to stand up and start the intro. You stood in the middle as Hyojin stood on your left while a disgruntled Yohan on your right.
It seemed like Yohan wouldn’t like you at all… or anyone besides Hyojin for that matter.
Every member immediately got their camera ready persona on as you smiled, ready to start the introduction when someone stopped you.
“Ah, Hong (Name)-Ssi, you shouldn’t smile, it’ll go against the boyfriend image we have for you,” one of the producers said, causing you to freeze.
Another one hummed in agreement, “and maybe angle your head a bit to left, your face looks better on camera that way.”
Gaeul let out a grunt, “uh, thanks… but I’m his manager.. I can handle the group.”
“Well, handle him better.”
You ignored the questioning stares the members gave you as you dropped your smile. Hyojin wanted to say something back but he was a rookie—he had no power over the people funding their debut.
He could only watch as the light in your eyes practically went out from their berating. From that moment, he could easily tell there was a different set of standards you had to meet compared to the others.
From then on, he was going to help you, in anyway he can.
That’s why he’s your favorite… right?
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
You wanted to die.
At age twenty five you came like a teenage boy right in front of your maknae.
How embarrassing.
You grabbed your pillow and let out a loud scream, wanting to just close your eyes and never wake up. Mingi was taking a shower and you were scared he’d come into your room later.
There was no way in hell you wanted to see him again tonight.
Maybe tomorrow.
Or a few weeks.
You glanced over at your phone and stared at it for a few minutes. Maybe some posts from those freaky Miras would make you appreciate life again. Or something like that. Whatever bullshit idea you could come up with to justify you still going to the NSFW side of your fandom.
Now that you knew about the rise of gay/bisexual men into you, you wondered if you could find any.
Your biggest fan account, itsokokok had recently posted so decided to see if maybe they were congregating in the replies.
The new three posts of today was from three hours ago. It was from three different album promotions.
The first was from debut: it was a short clip of you in the music video. Your duo scene with Hyojin. You didn’t remember just how cute you acted in it, really playing up the teen boy being in love.
You checked the comments, many filled with people that weren’t Miras. Most of it was just guys saying you were really cute but in a natural way.
Second was of your performance from… pre debut? Huh, how did they find this? You looked to be maybe fifteen—a performance from your high school’s talent show. The video was of you dressed in a suit and tie performing A.D.T.O.Y by 2pm.
Quite the song for fetus you to be performing but hey, none of the adults stopped you.
It seemed the comments did have morals and mostly just complimented your ability to sing and dance at the same time. Though a few wanted you to preform the dance now… probably to thirst over you.
Lastly, the third video was one year old, a short clip of the music video for your second to last comeback. You didn’t know how they could thirst over this but you clicked on the video.
You were wet in the video, standing in front of a swimming pool. Dressed in a white button up and black slacks. The white shirt was stuck to your skin as you delivered your line, tugging at the loose tie around your neck.
At the time, you didn’t find the whole aspect of being wet on camera a bad thing. The song was about drowning in your feelings so being wet made sense.
Though you now regretted it.
@bluemuuun
↳ need him bad… don’t even know his name
@hanniesmira
↳ you don’t know Miracle?! Hong (Name) from Miracle? Dude you’re missing out, they have great songs
@bluemuuun
↳ I’m not even into kpop, I just want to fuck him ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
@slipslickk
↳ he looks good wet—I need one of his members to fuck him on stage already pls
@dohasflatass
↳ wonder if Min collapsed after seeing (Name) during shooting ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
@hanniesmira
↳ knowing min, he probably threatened anyone who stared for too long ㅎㅎㅎ
@hyunkikii
↳ Mrcle definitely take turns on his ass, got a phatty for real
@hyoojinie
↳ his gaze into the camera is so slutty
Just as you were about to log out, you came across an older post itsokokok posted. It was of your early debut. One of the stage performances. It followed you dancing with a stoic face right when it was your center turn until it was Yohan’s turn.
As soon as the main camera was off you, a wide smile pulled on your lips as you danced along. Whenever it was your turn to sing, you immediately dropped the smile.
You were mostly following the orders the company gave you. Being the stoic boyfriend.
Nowadays you stopped caring but back then you were so scared of being taken out of the group that you followed whatever the company told you.
The comments were filled with comments of Miras, a few stating they missed this side of you. If only they knew that it wasn’t the real you. You scrolled through the comments before seeing one by itsokokok himself.
He was responding to someone saying they loved you when acted stoic, and hating this new ‘fake’ you.
→ then you don’t know the true him
You sat up, staring at the comment for a moment. Itsokokok didn’t seem to really comment. He had little to none captions and just posted once everyday at random times, possibly whenever he was free. It wasn’t even anything too crazy but the comment oddly felt like he knew you?
Well, probably not. He might’ve just noticed that you were putting on an act due to your pre-debut activities. It was a drastic difference if you paid any attention.
Speaking of, how did he find any of your pre-debut stuff? You tried to think if you maybe posted them yourself or maybe your classmates or something.
Maybe your mom? She loved posting videos of your performances on her Instagram. She even gained a lot of followers because of it. Her account was basically a fan account at this point.
He might’ve just found the pre-debut performances she posted, it’s not like she’s hiding it.
You shrugged. It wasn’t too creepy. He seemed to actually appreciate you.
And that’s all you can really ask for in a fan.
“Hyung.”
You blushed and quickly turned off your phone. Mingi stepped into your room, rubbing at his face as he got on your bed. You simply watched him get comfortable before glancing over at you.
“You’re so stiff.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips. “Are you scared I’ll eat you in your sleep?”
“Mingi!” You bristled, quickly turning off your lamp as you got underneath your covered. You kept your back to him as you tried to drown out his laugh.
It was silent after a minute. You glanced back to see him fast asleep. That was fast.
Staring at him, you wondered how much he’s changed. He wasn’t seventeen anymore.
Maybe he really did love you…
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“Solo activity?”
Your group mates were looking at you in shock. It had been almost a month since Gaeul had told you about your change in marketing and now the company finally has something for you. Your solo stage.
They were all in your apartment, getting comfy on the couch when you suddenly came out ready to leave. Everyone had been practicing daily for the comeback that they had planned for a relaxed day today.
“Yeah.” You said, feeling a bit nervous. “Did.. Dawon Hyung forget to tell you guys?”
“Oh, yeah, he did.” Yohan muttered.
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Doha said, glancing back at the tv. You wanted to ask what he meant by that but then Yohan delivered a swift kick to Doha’s shin.
“Have you been practicing before us then?” Kihyun suddenly asked. “You’re already prepared to perform it?”
“Mhm… I’ve been practicing daily after our recording sessions.” You bit your lip. “It’s an easy song to learn.”
“Ah okay,” Yohan said, speaking for the others who were just staring at you. “Do you want one of us to come with?”
“Come—? Uh, uhm.” Your eyes gazed at them in disbelief. They wanted to come? Why did it feel like they were attached to your hip these days?
Mingi rolled his eyes, coming out from the kitchen. ��(Name) Hyung doesn’t need someone with him. He’s not a baby.”
“You’re just jealous he might not choose you,” Doha shot back, smirking at the deadly glare Mingi sent his way.
“Ah, I guess I could bring one of you guys,” you said, causing them to perk up immediately. Their eyes stared right into your soul. You felt your hands sweat as you tried to think about who to choose.
No way would you choose Mingi… he was making you uncomfortable these days. The way he gazes at you like you’re his entire world is insane!
Yohan would be too annoying.
Kihyun would be a bit awkward.
Doha was being annoying to Mingi and you didn’t want reward his behavior.
Your gaze narrowed in on Hyojin. His eyes met yours as a slight grin pulled on his lips. That’s all he needed as he stood up with a triumphant smile. The others immediately groaned and shook their heads in annoyance.
Hyojin moved to follow you out the door when Mingi suddenly grabbed his arm. You almost yelled at Mingi for his aggressive behavior but Hyojin didn’t look shocked at all.
Mingi whispered something while Hyojin rolled his eyes.
“Childish.” He said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch what’s yours. You should worry about Yohan Hyung instead.”
“What? Yah, what are you talking about?!” Yohan yelled, glancing over at Mingi.
You stood there mouth agape. Mingi didn’t… no way he wouldn’t.. Hyojin grabbed your hand before you could properly spiral and lead you out of the apartment.
Just what the hell was Mingi’s problem?
Hyojin didn’t see you romantically, what is he worrying about?
Once you reached the music show, you were quickly dressed in an outfit to match the song you were performing. It was business casual, apparently.
Hyojin sat on the couch as the stylist helped you get dressed. He was silent for the most part, tapping away on his phone. It was another reason why you chose him. He wasn’t an annoying little shit like the rest of them.
“Jinnie,” you called, fixing the fake glasses on your face. “How does Hyung look?”
It took a minute before he finally glanced up. His eyes widen as he took you in. You were dressed in a white button up, sleeves rolled up with a loose black tie. Black slacks with sleek black dress shoes.
“It reminds me of something I wore before,” you laughed, tugging at the tie as you looked over at him.
Hyojin coughed, the tip of his ears getting red as he mutely nodded. “Mhm… you make it so hard, Hyung.”
“Hm?” You tilted your head, walking over to him as you plopped down beside him on the couch.
“I think Mingi will be upset if I told you… but everyone in the group has.. liked you.”
“Liked me? Like…”
“Romantically.” Hyojin said, smiling slightly. “But Mingi had stronger feelings for you.”
“So what… did he.. did he tell you guys to back off or something?” You asked, still reeling from the fact your members liked you. The thought seemed ludicrous!
“Yeah.” Hyojin said bluntly. “Something like that.”
You raised an eyebrow, “what did he do?”
“Secret.”
“Hyojin.”
“Mhmmm, I can’t remember.”
You glared at him as he went back to his phone. “I don’t understand. You guys really liked me..? How? Why?”
Hyojin shrugged. “I don’t know about the rest of them.. but I just liked you for you. But it wasn’t the strongest feelings.”
The strongest… You briefly wondered about Kihyun. Maybe he had stronger feelings for Kihyun?
But before you could ask, a staff member called for you. Hyojin gave you a thumbs up as you got up and left.
While you were nervous, you weren’t exactly nervous to preform on stage alone. You’ve always performed alone before debuting in Miracle.
The month you spent practicing for the song was a breeze. It was a song that took inspiration from a past song you composed. The choreographer didn’t go all out with the dance.
Though what you were really nervous about was if people would actually care.
What if the so called growing interest in you deflated immediately?
You shook your head, walking onto stage. A group of six dancers followed you. The crowed actually cheered a bit when you came on. There was a few Miracle lightsticks. But immediately, a group of male voices rung out in the building.
Everyone seemed shocked at how loud they were, even the dancers as they got into position. You couldn’t help but grin and eagerly wave at them.
“귀여! ♡♡♡♡!”
“Thank you!” You said into your mic, laughing at the immediate screams from the crowd. You walked to your position, letting the dancers grab your waist as they pulled you to sit on two of their arms—a makeshift throne.
The lights dimmed as you got ready to perform. You tried to remember all the times you performed alone and channeled the energy of younger you.
While you would dance, you would focus mostly on having great vocals. This song was a taste into the title track, you needed to show a great intro.
The performance started with a slight hiccup when the back track started before you but you continued as if nothing happened. It allowed for your vocals to truly show anyway.
The major part of the song that seemed to get most of the crowd excited was when one of the dancers grabbed your tie and tugged you towards him. You couldn’t help the slight blush during that part, feeling oddly excited over it as well.
Was this a kink?
You ended the oddly homoerotic song with the dancers kneeling in front of you, your hand digging into one of the men’s hair.
Cheers erupted as soon as you were finished. You felt excited, hearing mostly male voices scream your name. The dancers immediately stood up and grabbed you, lifting you up in the air as you shrieked in shock. Your arms immediately wrapped around one of their shoulders at the sudden movement.
If only you knew just how angry this little action would make a certain someone.
The drive home felt long for some reason. Hyojin was on his phone so you decided to check how Miras were doing.
Not too surprising, not that many Miras talked about the performance. However non fans were praising it. Itsokokok had posted.
It was three posts, seems like he had a pattern. The first was of your recent performance. A short video of the moment when the dancer pulled your tie. Your face didn’t hide any of the hidden pleasure you got from that short moment.
During practice, the pull was never harsh so it really did shock you when he tugged it harder this time around.
Of course, the comments were filled with people thirsting. Mostly non fans—gay men in particular. The same Miras that actually liked you were thirsting over you while also gushing at how you finally had a solo activity.
Shocker, the NSFW side that talked about your members fucking you actually appreciated you.
The next post was of a pre-debut one. This time, it was a nineteen year old you preforming an original song. It was the song the company used to create the solo song you just preformed.
Most of the comments didn’t seem to notice this at all. You were mainly shocked the account owner even found this clip.
Lastly, it was a clip from the group’s occasional vlog. From the setting, it was of the time the group was planning Mingi’s nineteenth birthday. You were kneeling down as you picked something up.
The camera was just on you as you arched your back by pure instinct. You don’t even remember doing that. A laugh was heard from the camera man, you quickly noticed it was Yohan filming before video you looked back and glared at Yohan.
“Go do something useful!” You had yelled, “Minnie’s party has to be good. I won’t let you ruin it.”
@bluemuuun
↳ does his back naturally arch like that??
@hanniesmira
↳ his relationship with min is so cute.. i bet today’s performance killed min ㅋㅋㅋ
Before you could read the rest, the van reached the apartment complex. You and Hyojin left as you got inside. Hyojin waved you good night before going into his shared apartment with Kihyun.
You wondered back to his claim of the members all liking you.
That just didn’t make any sense.
As you moved to unlock the door to your apartment, it swung open, showing a pissed Mingi.
Fuck.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
“How was the performance?”
Hyojin glanced over at Kihyun. He had just walked in and was set on just speed walking straight to his bedroom. Kihyun was sitting in the couch and didn’t look away from the tv.
“It was good, Hyung is a good performer.” Hyojin muttered, slipping off his shoes. He slipped off his coat and slowly walked over to the living room.
“Yeah, he is.”
“Well… I’ll go to bed—”
“Hyojin.”
Hyojin sighed, looking back at Kihyun. Kihyun was finally looking over at him. His piercing gaze made his back tense. The slight hums of the tv filled the odd tension as Hyojin fought the urge to just walk away. It was too late to be dealing with this.
“Are you… still upset about what I said this morning?” Kihyun finally said, his gaze softening.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Kihyun stood up from the couch as he walked over to Hyojin. “I didn’t think it would upset you… I thought you were over him.”
Hyojin felt his jaw tighten, “you might’ve gotten over Hyung easily but I actually liked him. I liked him a lot—I only backed off because Mingi was right, (Name) Hyung would never see me romantically.”
“So… what’s the problem? Aren’t we—?”
“—dating?” Hyojin pinched his nose before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, are we? You only want to have sex, nothing else. Even if we are ‘dating’—I won’t allow you to speak about my past feelings as if they were trivial.
“(Name) Hyung is an important part of my life, especially because he’s still here. It’d be different if he wasn’t around anymore. So I’m sorry, Hyung, my feelings for (Name) Hyung wasn’t some three second attraction like yours… If two years ago, (Name) Hyung had returned my feelings in anyway… I’d never have gotten with you.”
Kihyun sighed, “I didn’t mean it that way, Hyojin… I didn’t realize you had liked him that much. I—”
“Hyung.” Hyojin interrupted him. “Come back to me once you figure out if you want to be boyfriends or just fuck buddies. I’m not breaking myself over another guy.”
With that, he walked into his room, slamming the door shut.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Mingi immediately tugged you inside and glared at you. “What type of solo stage was that?”
“What do you mean?” You asked, moving to walk to your room. Mingi was already following you as you tried to keep yourself calm.
You were older! You’re the group leader… he needs to.. he can’t treat you like this.
Especially over a simple performance.
“Hyung.” Mingi’s voice was tight. “We’ve never performed a song like that before—the company never allowed it.”
“Well they’re just trying something new with me. They’ve finally noticed a group of people they can advertise me to. I can..” you placed your bag on your bed and sighed, “I can gain some fans that actually care about me.”
“Fans? Is that all you care about? What about the music?”
“Mingi, obviously I care about the music!” You said, staring at him as he stood in your doorway. “But it’s normal to want positive feedback from sharing your art! You get it all the time, I’ve seen how Miras react to you.”
“So what, you’ll feed into the silly relationship the company uses to get people’s money?!”
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Mingi, it’s not that serious. I’ve always wanted to do a sexy concept anyway—no one forced me.”
As you glanced back at him, any anger you had tempered down. You couldn’t be mad at him—not for long anyway. “I get it… you’re just worried but I consented to everything.” You muttered, hoping that would calm him down.
“So you consented to be whored out for some fans that only like you because they want to fuck you?”
You blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
A laugh left your lips as you stared straight at Mingi.
“Choi Mingi.” You whispered, your gaze hardening as your fists clenched. The words you wanted to say was in the tip of your tongue and if you weren’t so angry—you would’ve held back.
But you didn’t.
“Remember your place.” You said, walking over to him. “I am your Hyung, not your boyfriend. I’m not yours and you can’t act so possessive over me, do you understand? I don’t know what you told the others but it’s not your right to tell them to back off.”
“You—?”
“Yes I know! I’m not your boyfriend and I won’t ever be your boyfriend!” You yelled, pushing Mingi out of your room, causing him to bang his head right against the wall. He stared at you in shock as you froze. Any anger you had was gone as you wanted to rush and check if he was okay.
But you couldn’t.
You shouldn’t.
You cleared your throat as you glanced down at the ground. Your throat felt tight. “Choi Mingi, I don’t think you really love me… because if you did, you wouldn’t have insulted me to my face.”
A pained whimper left your throat as you quickly looked away from Mingi. “I’ll go… spend tonight with Hyojin. Don’t.. don’t bother me.. please.” You whispered, moving to leave as quickly as you could.
A hand gripped your arm before you could even step an inch away. Your body tensed as you waited to see what Mingi would say. He didn’t feel like that boy you knew… how much had he changed?
You reluctantly glanced back to see what he was going to say only to see him kneel down. Your eyes widen as he pressed his head against the floor, hands resting on the ground.
“죄송합니다. 죄송합니다, 형.”
“Mingi…” You whispered. You slowly knelt down and gripped at Mingi’s shoulders, pushing to make him sit up but he fought against you. He kept repeating himself, his words slowly being muffled by the sound of his gasps.
“Mingi. Choi Mingi.” With his refusal to look up, you decided to try a different method. “I’ll leave.. I’ll go to Hyojin if you don’t look at me.”
You got whiplash at how quick he looked up. Your gaze softening at the sight of his face. His eyes were red as tears streamed down his face, his face blotchy and red already. He kept gasping for air as if crying so hard was taking his breath away.
Despite yourself, you remembered the only other time he cried so hard in front of you.
“Childish. You really are childish.” You whispered, wiping away at his face. His body physically loosened at your touch as he leaned into it. Though you could tell he wasn’t coming any closer, even if his hands twitched to touch you.
It didn’t look like he was in the capacity to speak so you decided to do it for him.
“I’m upset, Mingi. I’m so upset you would hurt me like this. Were you jealous? Why would you say that about me?”
Mingi shook his head.
“Then why did you say that? What could you have possibly meant?”
“Scared..” he managed to mutter, taking a second to take a deep breath. “You’re… older… I’m… younger… the.. dancer… older… what if… what if you want an older man…? What if… you’ll leave me… because he’s better..”
You blinked, staring at him confusion. “Mingi, that’s so silly.” You whispered, cooing when he tried to glare at you—it didn’t pack a punch with his face wet with tears. “You were insecure and that’s okay… but that was not the way to go about it. Are you scared that… I’ll leave you if I get more fans?”
He hummed. “You… might… leave the group.”
“Why would I? You have solo activities but you don’t want to leave the group. I can have solo activities too. I like our group. You’re really acting your age, Mingi.”
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as he immediately began to try and pull away. You pulled him back in quickly as you brought his face to yours.
“Next time, if you’re feeling a certain way, you can.. voice it? Instead of talking down on me, okay?” You said, giving him a slight smile. “But I’m happy you immediately apologized. I didn’t think you would do that.”
Mingi sniffled, finally sitting up straight. “It’s because I—”
You clamped his mouth shut, a blush on your face. Mingi only rolled his eyes. Even when he was sad he had the strength to roll his eyes. Wow.
Despite yourself, the previous anger wasn’t as strong anymore. You didn’t think you would be so easy to forgive but you were. Was it because he apologized? He seemed so sincere that you knew it wasn’t a joke—Mingi can’t cry on command, he’s tried many times.
Surprisingly only Kihyun could.
He… he really loved you?
“Minnie,” you said, unable to hide the smile at his eager gaze from hearing his nickname. “Is it true… that you told the other members to back off?”
Mingi frowned before he silently nodded.
“Why….?”
He pulled your hand away from his mouth as he looked away. “They didn’t love you like I do. It was just simple infatuation…”
“How could you be so sure?”
Mingi raised an eyebrow, “Hyung, I’ve trained with them since I was fourteen… I’ve known them longer than you do. Besides, it’s not like they fought me on it… well not all of them.”
“All of them…? Did…?”
“One person disagreed.”
“Who?”
“Secret.”
“Mingi.”
“Ah, I can’t really remember.”
“You and Hyojin are the same, little shits.” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “But still, that was wrong of you. You shouldn’t mess with anyone else’s feelings.”
Mingi looked as if he wanted to talk back but simply nodded. “Okay… it was two years ago anyway.”
“Two years ago?”
“Mhm. On my nineteenth birthday.”
“Ah.”
You wanted to ask more but it looked like Mingi was done talking. He rubbed at his eyes as he began wiping at his tear stained face. While you weren’t angry anymore, you still weren’t exactly so forgiving without any work on Mingi’s part.
“Minnie,” you said, watching as he perked up. “I’m still mad… so you can’t touch me at all for a month.”
His eyes widen as he stared at you as if you just told him his parents died in a plane crash. His lips wobbled as a pained grunt left him, he was obviously trying to plead a case but the rational part of him knew not to push it.
He looked as if he’d cry again.
You only smiled. “Punishment for calling your Hyung a whore. I think I’m being quite nice, don’t you think?”
Mingi squared his jaw. “Yes, Hyung…”
“Good boy.” You whispered, smirking at his pained expression. “You can’t sleep with me tonight, unless you want to sleep on the floor. Night, Minnie.”
Mingi was going to have a tough month.
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
→ have you guys seen this performance??
→ 씨발! If I had a dick it’d be hard ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
→ who is this???
→ he sounds so good??
→ wish I could pay attention to the lyrics but his ass is distracting me
→ 대박! He sounds so stable
→ I found his group performances!!! Why is he so underrated??
→ does he have any other solo work?
→ my dick hard
→ the group sings so well, I’ll tune in for their comeback!!
→ his photo cards are cheap!! I’ll buy a dozen ㅋㅋㅋ
→ I think I came
ཆི❤︎ཆྀ
Three years ago
Mingi was confused. He saw so many fan accounts for other members. Way too many for himself—he didn’t get what was so special about him. But little to none accounts solely for you. The group had debuted a year ago, surely someone likes you enough to create an account?
He sighed, scrolling through the lists of popular Miras accounts. Why weren’t they praising you? You were the best, a great singer, dancer, and leader.
Was it because you didn’t fit the Korean beauty standards?
How stupid.
Mingi didn’t care about what fans thought of him so long as they liked the music—but it seemed to bother you that no one was giving you any attention.
So, he decided to rectify that.
It took him a minute but he soon figured out how to create an account.
He chose his profile picture—a picture from the group’s season greetings, one where you had frosting on your nose as you smiled at the camera.
He’d never use social media before so his generic names for the account were all taken. He didn’t know what else to name the stupid account as, it was just so he could post pictures and videos of you.
After a short break before he mentally crashed out, he decided on a different name.
Itsokokok
It was a lyric from the group’s debut title track. Your first line of the song. Not many people would probably know but that was fine with him. The account was honestly mainly for him.
He didn’t know what his first post should be so he decided on a picture he took of you. Luckily he had posted it on the group’s Instagram so no one would think anything of it. It was a candid photo, you were looking up from your phone because he had called your name. You looked so cute despite how tired you were.
His first ever picture of you was his first ever post.
Shit, he was down bad.
no smut this time, sorry yall, but chapter three will give yall what’s deserved, next week Friday. Trying something different with this OC. Anyway, next chapter, he’s about to get freaky. Also can you guess who was the member that refused Mingi’s request? ;)
죄송합니다 — is the most formal way to say sorry in Korean
Tag list: @euthymiko @love-kha1 @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @tomoeroi @smellwell @remdayz @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @cherry-blossoms-187 @ofclyde @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @onementally-unstabel-kid @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @chaevvonders @bangchansdirty-slut @honey-valentin3 @hoshimochicchi @lucaisnothere @jaxyy219
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months ago
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬
Satoru Gojo
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Summary: Satoru makes the biggest mistake of his life. If he could go back in time, he would take it all back in a heartbeat.
Warnings: Heavy Angst, Cheating, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Some Biting, Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Creampie
*This is a commission for the lovely @mew4-ever18. Thank you so much dear, this was so fun to work on❤️ also you can thank her since she wanted me to share with y'all!
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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There’s something wrong with Satoru, and you can’t quite put your finger on it– Well, you have an idea of what it is but you don’t want to accuse your fiancé of such an outrageous act of betrayal. He’s coming home later than usual, bearing gifts and stinking of some cheap perfume. He claims he’s working late with his secretary, the company is going through a rough patch and he has to fix it all.
You noticed it from the beginning. One night Satoru came home later than usual and he wasn’t your usual Satoru. He was distant and refused to even make eye contact with you. He was hiding his phone, and was extra wary about where he put it for the night. It happened six months ago, and you were willing to look past it because you loved Satoru and it was surely a one time thing.
Until the next day where the same thing happened. And then a week later. Six months later you’re dealing with the same issue, trying to convince yourself that it isn’t happening. The signs are all there, but you don’t want to question your partner’s loyalty. Truly after making such accusations, everything will be over. So you bite your tongue even though Satoru clearly acts differently for a reason.
“How was work today?” You ask him, clearing the table from the dinner you just had. You surprised him tonight, preparing one of his favorite meals since you knew he’d be home early tonight. You hope that by surprising him with food, he’d come home early more often.
Unluckily for you, Satoru played with his food the entire duration of the meal. He was looking at his phone the entire meal, barely acknowledging your presence. But you’ll attribute it to him having a rough day at work. A rough week at this point… Nevertheless, you’ll find a way to excuse his behavior.
“Can you help me clean up?” You ask him after your question goes ignored, and Satoru barely acknowledges your existence. You’re getting tired of this, and you’re not sure for how much longer you can withstand it. You speak again, your voice much firmer this time, “Satoru, honey, can you help me?”
“Uh… Sure.” He replies, standing up from the table and doing just as you’ve asked. You make some conversation with him, knowing you hold his attention for a small fragment of time and you have to make it count. He gives you vague answers, but at least he gives you something. 
Midway through the conversation is like a flip switches in Satoru, and he begins to smile as he speaks to you. He cracks a couple of jokes, and you two begin to laugh like the sweet couple you are. You feel like you’re in the very beginning of your relationship once again. He’s making jokes just to hear your sweet laugh.
Before you know it, you’re cuddling up with him on the couch. You allow yourself to easily forget about his past behavior, simply because he’s acting like the man you love after all this time. 
“Was dinner not good? You barely touched your food.” You ask him, and he bites down his lip.
“It was good, I wasn’t too hungry though.” He answers, though he quickly changes the topic. You partially understand why he wants to talk about something else. You’re finally having a good time, he doesn’t want it to change. “When’s your next work trip? I don’t want to get accustomed to having you here.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow for three days.” You respond, and you see a small pout come to his face. You almost laugh at the response, chuckling before kissing his cheek. You don’t understand the response when most nights he isn’t by your side either way, but you still appreciate the reaction. “I’ll be back in no time, babe.”
“I’m going to miss you.” He says, a phrase that is odd to hear from him but it brings a smile to your face. Maybe whatever is going on is fixable. You peck his lips, getting even closer to him.
“You can appreciate me while I’m still here.” You tell him, and within a blink of an eye, you’re on top of him. He’s given you no sign, but you feel the need to try to initiate something with Satoru. You had a consistent sex life with him until recently. The last time you felt Satoru’s touch was three months ago, and it was unsatisfactory to say the least… You hope you can change his mind this way. It’s stupid. 
You’re getting frisky, your hands unbuttoning his shirt while you kiss him, full of desperation. You need him. You’re too caught up in your own sentiments, barely noticing that he’s not touching you. You’re doing everything.
He’s not even kissing you back. You’re grabbing his hands and putting them on your ass since you know it’s one of– If not his favorite part of your body. But his hands quickly fall, telling you he’s disinterested.
“Satoru–” You pull away, about to ask why he isn’t even moving. Before a business trip, he’d make sure to remind you how much he loves you– But right now he can’t even keep eye contact with you.
“I’m not in the mood.” He mutters, and you swear you hear your heart break. It feels like this confirms all of your fears and doubts. You just know you’re frustrated. You get off him, and without even thinking twice, you blurt out,
“Are you cheating on me?” Which makes his eyes go wide. He looks at you, offended that you’ve asked that question. As if he hasn’t given you reasonable doubt. But even though the question lingers in your mind, you regret the words that leave your lips.
“How dare you?” He immediately replies, and you feel the urgent need to apologize for what you asked. You still want an answer that’s not his offense. Even though his response should give you an answer, you’re still wanting to hear him deny it.
“You’ve been acting weird– I don’t know what to think.” You try to justify yourself, as Satoru stands up from the couch.
“What? I told you I’m busy with work! But your first thought is that I’m–” Satoru finds himself yelling, and he stops himself. He takes a deep breath to not be too rash. He’s upset, but he won’t yell at you. “I love you so much, why would you even say that? I’ve done nothing but be loyal and cherish you but you’re–”
“You’re acting weird, Satoru! I– I’m sorry that I even suggested that but you’re acting really weird.” You’re tripping over your words, getting nervous during your confrontation. This is something that can completely ruin a relationship, you should’ve bit your tongue and held back on asking the question. 
“I can’t even look at you.” He mutters, walking away from you. He’s heading toward the front door, and you can’t stop him. You want to tell him to stop, you can figure this out; however, your voice gives out. Maybe deep down you know that you don’t have to apologize for anything. 
The feeling lingers, deep down you know you’re right. 
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You allow yourself time to think. Time away from Satoru to decide what you want to do with your relationship. Work keeps you busy, but it reminds you of him. You met with him through your work, you were hired to accompany him on a trip and he kept flirting with you until he mustered up the courage to ask you out.
You’re wondering if maybe your work is the reason why he’s acting like this. Maybe you’re overthinking that he’s distant, and he’s actually just worried that someone else will woo you. You’ll think of anything to excuse his behavior, anything to stay on cloud nine when it comes to your fiancé. 
During your time away you reflect on your relationship. You need to have a serious chat with Satoru, something that you’ve been holding off on. You don’t want to have tough conversations in fear of hurting him, but it’s hurting your relationship.
You’re losing sleep over your issues, and you can’t stay away for another day. You’re going home early to try and fix your relationship problems, because you won’t be able to properly rest if you don’t fix it. 
Luckily, the lights are on when you come home. You’ll be able to speak with him immediately. You hope that by next week this will all be something that you laugh at. Alas, you know that you’ll need to put in a little more work. 
You walk into your place, leaving your luggage in your car. You want to talk to Satoru as fast as you can. 
You expect to find him in the kitchen, cooking something for himself since Satoru tends to try to make himself something when he’s free. But you guess you’re a little late. It’s past dinner time, he’s not in the kitchen… But he did leave a mess. You’re about to walk past it and check for him in the bedroom, but your eyes fixate on the sink.
Two glasses of wine. One has a red lipstick stain. The son of a bitch lied to you– No, maybe you’re overthinking. Perhaps he invited his mother over for dinner. He’s probably upstairs, too tired to clean up after himself so he left the mess for the morning.
You take a deep breath, using all your might to move your feet. You have to go upstairs to talk to him. You pray that you find him sleeping so you can avoid this whole situation right now– Or that the scene that plays in your mind isn’t happening.
Satoru is loyal to you. Satoru is loyal. You keep repeating the words to yourself as you walk upstairs. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest with every step. You’re getting sweaty, and thinking of the worst when you’re standing outside the closed bedroom door.
You hear it, and your heart breaks. You’re fidgeting with your fingers as you press your ear against the door to listen better. It’s his voice… It’s Satoru. Your Satoru. The same man that got defensive when you confronted him about his loyalty.
A man that you’ve loved so dearly for years, has betrayed you in the worst way possible.
But maybe, just maybe, you’re getting this whole situation wrong. You refuse to cry when you’re probably misreading this situation. Perhaps he’s just watching some explicit videos on his phone, something to kill his loneliness. You crack the door open, and you want to puke at the scene. 
A gasp leaves your lips, as if you’re surprised by it all. As if you didn’t already feel this was happening. Tears well your eyes, quickly spilling and falling down your face. He’s not only betraying you, but doing it on your own bed as if it were nothing. The bed that you’ve laid down beside him and shared so many intimate moments.
You make eye contact for a split second before you look at her. The woman that was always so sickly sweet with you is in bed with your fiancé. You always knew that there was something up with her, there was no plausible reason for her to be so nice. You brought up your concerns with Satoru, and he brushed them off.
“You two can go to hell.” You yell, remembering the words that Satoru always told you: She’s no one important, she won’t last long in the company or something along those lines. And yet here she is. You’re holding your breath, unable to exhale until you finally turn around. You hear Satoru call out your name as you begin to walk away.
You try to hold back on crying now, you don’t want to look pathetic in front of them. You’ll simply leave, even though he calls out your name to talk to you. The man that you swore you’d love for the rest of your life has made a fool out of you. With his secretary of all people… How cliché. 
“It isn’t what it seems!” Satoru is yelling, trying to catch up to you. You take a swift look at him, rolling your eyes. At least he has clothes on now, that’s an improvement. 
You don’t want to entertain him, you just head to the front door as Satoru mutters out baseless apologies. You don’t want to hear it, he’s just spewing whatever to get you to stay. Your hand lands on the cold doorknob, and before you get to turn it, his hand lands on your wrist.
“Please let me explain.” There’s desperation in his eyes, something that would’ve made you drop everything and tend to him ten minutes ago. Right now your blood is boiling, and the only sight that you want to see is a bloody Satoru lying down on the floor– It’s extremely unlike you, but you guess your thoughts won’t be too normal after finding out your fiancé balls deep into his secretary.
“Fuck you, Satoru. Fuck you and your secretary–” You begin before a loud laugh leaves your lips. It’s rare that you curse, but you can’t hold back now. You truly mean it, never in your life do you want to see the man that stands before you. You were ready to devote your entire life to him; yet, this is how he repays you. “I guess you already did, didn’t you?”
“Please, it was nothing.” He tries to explain which makes you scoff. You pry his hand off your wrist and open the door.
“I’m coming to get my stuff tomorrow while you work. I’ll leave the engagement ring on your nightstand.” You tell him before walking away, leaving him behind to yell your name. He mindlessly calls out to you, hoping that you come back to talk to him, but you don’t dare to look back at him. 
That concludes your relationship of years with Satoru. A few minutes of pleasure were worth ruining your four year long relationship, and an eternity together. You wipe away the tears that leave your eyes, trying to not feel bad about it. After all, Satoru made his bed, and you can’t change anything about it.
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Satoru tries to contact you more times than you can count, which results in him being blocked everywhere. You don’t want to speak to him ever again. You spoke to his parents one last time, and explained everything to them before closing that chapter of your life. You want to completely forget that Satoru Gojo ever existed in your life. In your mind, you want it to be as if you never crossed paths.
You had two weeks of dwelling in sorrow, pitying yourself for your ex-fiancé’s actions before school started. Going back to teach English was actually going to be more helpful to you than you thought. The students keep you busy, managing to push away any dark thoughts from your mind.
You find the school to be a safe space from all the drama that surrounds your life. You don’t have to worry about Satoru trying to get you to communicate with him, and you know that he won’t dare to show up at your work. The idiot somehow found out where you live, and he’s been attempting to send you flowers or other romantic deliveries that quickly get turned down or end up in the trash. 
You hate the turn of events. You were practically begging for a more eventful life since everything had suddenly become so dull– How you regret wanting that change. Yet you guess it’s better like this. You should be grateful that you found Satoru’s true colors before it was too late. 
“There’s someone that wants to talk to you… He’s at your desk.” Your coworker warns you as you walk to the office. You furrow your brows, picking up the unsureness in her voice.
It’s been nearly two months since everything happened, so Satoru is the last thing on your mind. So you don’t have a problem walking to the office, assuming that it’s a student that is seeking help. Though you’re not too sure about it since most of them are supposed to be in class.
A scoff leaves your mouth when you enter the office and you see the man that you’ve been avoiding for the past two months. As you watch him lean over your desk and inspect every little gadget that’s on it, you realize it’s a miracle that he hasn’t shown up at your door to beg for forgiveness.
He hasn’t realized that you’re in the same room, so you have two options: turn around and pretend like you were never here, or confront him. You want to turn around and avoid him. And you will. But just as you turn on your heel to leave, he calls out your name. 
“Can we talk?” Satoru asks, clearly desperate to explain everything to you… But what is there to explain? No matter the reason, what he did is unforgivable.
You want to yell at him, and tell him to get out of your life forever. But your coworkers are standing around and you don’t want to cause a scene. You have to swallow the sharp words that rest at the tip of your tongue. You choose a more professional way to deliver your message,
“Mr. Gojo, please stop contacting me. Next time I receive some sort of message from you, I’ll be forced to file a restraining order.”
He calls out to you again, but you don’t acknowledge him in any way. Your coworkers stare at him, wondering what happened between the two of you, but no one is bold enough to actually ask. For your ex-fiancé to show up at your work to talk, and refusing to speak to him is no small feat. Regardless, no one will ask you and no one is going to dare to speak to the man.
They don’t get a chance either way, Satoru quickly walks out of the office after checking his phone, leaving the place behind. Leaving too many questions unanswered.
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“What do you need?” Satoru answers the phone with attitude when he gets into his car. He’s too annoyed to deal with anything else, especially with her. The woman that he broke things off with immediately, yet she won’t leave him alone for some reason. 
For some reason, as if he hadn’t started an emotional affair with her– Sure, for him it was purely physical but for her it seems like feelings developed. Even though he tried to fire her (which didn’t work out since she threatened to sue due to an inappropriate workplace relationship with a very clear power imbalance), she keeps trying to call him and act as if their relationship hasn’t ended. 
“When are we meeting again?” She acts as if nothing happened. Her voice is so irritating to him, it’s become one of his most hated sounds. He rolls his eyes when he hears her speak, and he has to sigh. He can’t get rid of her completely, as much as he wants to. 
“Please refrain from calling me unless there’s a work emergency.” Satoru tries to remain calm. He’s not going to waste his energy by losing his cool on her. By keeping things professional, he hopes that she’ll take a hint and leave him alone. But he’s not so lucky, he’s getting extremely bad karma for his actions. “Is there anything else? I’m busy.”
“We– We have to talk.” She sounds hesitant, though Satoru doesn’t really care. If she wants to never speak again, he’d be overjoyed. 
“What is it?” He asks, hoping that it’s something she can say over the phone. He wants to meet as little as possible with her. The line is quiet for a minute before she says,
“Can we please meet in person?” She questions, making Satoru scoff. No way in hell will he willingly meet up with her. His response gives her the answer she needs. She knows he’ll hang up soon so she blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”
“Huh?” His eyes go wide as he processes the words that he just heard. Pregnant? No, that can’t be, he’s always been so careful with her. He ensured she was on birth control and he always made sure to wear a condom. A pregnancy shouldn’t even be possible. “What– You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“I– I’m not. I wish I was.” He can almost hear the smirk that’s on her lips. She tries to act like this is something bad, but he can hear that this is ideal for her. “I swear I’m not lying.”
“What the fuck?” Satoru is pinching the bridge of his nose as he wonders how the hell this happened. He still can’t believe her, and he won’t until he sees a test result right in his face. One that he sees her take.
He absolutely can’t trust her with anything.
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Satoru finally decides to leave you alone for the first time in months. You’re still on his mind, but he has bigger issues to deal with right at this moment. Somehow, someway, he’s becoming a father. This wasn’t in the cards for him, especially with someone that isn’t you. 
“What do you think about going shopping for baby clothes tomorrow?” She’s resting her head on his lap, talking like she usually does when she’s with him. He’s engrossed with his phone, creating a new account to check up on your social media. Satoru’s given you space since he has a girlfriend now. 
He’s not sure if he’s a coward or what, but he can’t do much. He got someone pregnant, so he’s forced to step up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but he isn’t the type of man that’s going to leave his child behind. But he’s for sure the man that secretly looks at his ex’s social media. 
“Satoru, are you listening?” He hears, and he hums in response. Though he’s not too enthusiastic, which makes her sigh. She raises her head from his lap and squints her eyes as she looks at him. She doesn’t have to look at his phone to know.
She snatches the phone out of his head and tosses it to the side, making a frown appear on his face. He’s about to protest but she gets on top of him, cupping his face. “You know… I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” Satoru can’t make eye contact with her. He feels guilty by just looking at her. Not because he feels like he owes her anything, but because by looking at her he’s reminded of you. You two would’ve been married now. 
“Baby, stop thinking of her.” She says, going down to peck his lips. The sentence would’ve driven any other woman mad, but that’s her reality. It’s been her reality since the beginning, ever since she decided to sleep with a man that was in a relationship. “I saw her last night.”
“Where?” A sudden spark appears in his eyes which ticks her off. She has to pretend like she doesn’t see it.
“She was out with some man.” She’s fighting off a smirk, she can’t seem wicked in front of Satoru. Though watching his expression darken satisfies her. “She’s moved on, you can move on as well.”
“I guess.” Satoru is vulnerable, weak enough to believe anything that goes past him. As long as he gets to hear about you, he doesn’t care if a statement is true or false. Though he doesn’t like the news he’s receiving. “Are you sure it was her though?”
“Yeah. I know so. She’s hard to confuse with someone else.” She answers, and Satoru clenches his jaw. Perhaps it was just a male friend, no one that you’re interested in romantically… Though he did the same thing, and this is where it landed him. “I’m here for you, baby. Me and our baby.”
She grabs his hand and places it on her small bump, reminding him that they’re bound together for life. Satoru is biting down his lip, jealousy consuming him at the mere thought of you with someone else. He almost wants to get back at you. As if you’d get hurt by what he does or doesn’t do. You’ve moved on from him, you clearly don’t care about what he does. 
Satoru knows that he’s lost you, he doesn’t win anything by not giving in. He is touch deprived, desperate to feel something more. He’s already sacrificed so much for the few moments of pleasure that the woman in front of him gave him, what’s one more time?
Her lips land on his again, and he doesn’t fight it. But he also doesn’t kiss her back. The situation reminds him of the last time that you made a move on him and he rejected you. He’s so close to shutting his eyes and listening to his dick, but he almost pukes when an image of you pops up into his head.
He can’t do it, not even when he’s trying to get back at you. It’s his bad karma. He ends up pushing her away, telling her, “It’s best if we don’t.”
“What’s the harm in it?” She’s annoyed that he pushes her away. He’s not wrapped around her finger like she thought.
“I’m not in the mood.” He takes a firm stance, and she tries to remain calm. She opens her mouth to speak but Satoru clears his throat, “I think it’s best if we stop whatever we’re doing here. It’s not healthy.”
“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows. Satoru takes a deep breath, thinking of how to land the blow. He knows that she won’t be too delighted, but does he really care about her feelings?
“If we’re going to have some sort of relationship, it’s only a co-parenting one. I’m not interested in anything else.” He says, and she begins to laugh as if it’s some kind of joke. Though it fades when she realizes that Satoru has a stoic expression on his face. He couldn’t be more serious.
“Satoru, I am carrying your baby. You can’t be serious.” She makes a big show of it, putting her hand on her bump. She wants to make it as clear as she can that she’s expecting his child. 
“Which is why we’ll co-parent. Other than that, I’m not interested.” He responds, and her hands ball up into fists. She doesn’t understand. He’s already lost everything, what’s the harm of being with her now? He should move on since you clearly don’t care about him.
“What is wrong with you?” She asks, completely offended. How could he not want her? He’s risked everything to be with her, but when he actually can be, he refuses. “We’re having a baby, you’re not with her anymore– We can finally be together.”
“I don’t want to be with you. It’s simple.” Satoru answers, and before a major argument ensues, he stands up. He begins to walk to the door, leaving her behind to yell at the wall. He knows arguing is senseless.
If she wants to escalate the situation, he’s more than willing to settle everything in court.
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Satoru is trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s becoming a father, and you aren’t the mother. His secretary is six months along, and time is flying by. The day that his baby is born is getting closer, and he has to come to terms with it soon.
His parents aren’t thrilled by this. They love his son, but they hate that this is the result of an act of betrayal. They dreamed of becoming grandparents but the situation was much different than this. They’ve made their feelings clear to Satoru, but Satoru couldn’t care less. He has his own feelings to account for. 
Satoru has his own weird feelings and behaviors to deal with. Like camping in his car, and waiting outside your apartment. He wants to see if you’re actually seeing someone else. With all his other issues, he’s been limited in time. He’s only been able to check up on you through social media, and you haven’t been posting which means he has no way of checking on you. He can’t contact your friends without getting cursed out, and he can’t just reach out to you to ask. Therefore he only has one way to check up on you; even if it’s creepy.
You leave the house at around 8:00 PM, and he’s on the move. You take a cab, and he follows you to a nice restaurant. Outside of it you meet a man. Satoru squints, trying to see every detail of this man. Perhaps it’s some relative that you’ve decided to meet outside a very expensive restaurant. Who is he fooling? You’re clearly on a date.
He still exits the car and enters the restaurant. It’s unlikely for him to get in without a reservation, but luckily Satoru is influential– Even when he isn’t well known, he has money to spare. 
He convinces the hostess to give him a table near your own, but your back is turned to him so you don’t see him at any time. He’s listening in, and he feels like a psycho for even being here but he has no other option. It’s a one off situation, a confirmation that you’ve actually moved on before he finally lets you go for good.
He doesn’t know why his heart hurts so much as he hears you laugh with someone else. He fuels with jealousy as he hears the dumb conversation that you two have. You don’t even sound entertained, but Satoru feels his eye twitch. He can’t just pop up at your table and ask you to speak, you’ll for sure ask him for a restraining order.
It’s best if he just leaves, it’s clear that you’re going out with someone else. He can’t do anything else. But just as he’s about to rise from his seat, someone catches his eye. He frowns, seeing the woman that carries his child, arms intertwined with someone else’s.
He watches attentively, trying to figure out if it’s a relative that he’s yet to hear about. He doesn’t really remember anything about his secretary… It was all sexual, and he didn’t care enough to listen to what she had to say about her life. Perhaps it’s a brother– The same stupid way that he thought you were here meeting a relative.
Satoru stands up and approaches their table, genuinely smiling as he sees them, “Good evening.”
“Satoru–” She looks astounded when she sees the man. She looks back and forth between the man that sits across from her, and Satoru. Her face grows red, knowing she’s been caught red handed. But she can play it off, she just has to control the situation before either speaks. “This is Satoru, my boss.”
“Nice to meet you, and who are you?” Satoru extends his hand for the man to take, and the man suddenly straightens his posture. She tries to speak, but Satoru directs his attention elsewhere. He doesn’t care what she has to say, he’s not going to believe her. Satoru doesn’t hear a name from the man, he blocks out everything except the vital word: fiancé.
“Well we– We… We were taking a break for some months and we’re back together now.” She attempts to play it off, and Satoru smirks. Right. As if he was dumb enough to buy it.
“We have a lot to talk about on Monday. Dinner’s on me tonight, enjoy it.” Satoru is sickly sweet with them, overjoyed by what he found out. He walks from the table and breathes a sigh of relief. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He just has to take one DNA test to prove that he isn’t the father, and he’s free of her. 
He’s upset to find that you’re not alone romantically, but he’s overjoyed by the news he’s just found out. He might not be becoming a father like he thought.
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After finding out about Satoru’s betrayal, you thought you’d never move on. A man that you were ready to devote your life to, threw everything away for no apparent reason– You never asked why, but you don’t care either way. A year later you’re thriving without him, and with a man that makes you happy.
The perfect man that sends you flowers to work weekly even though you’ve been dating for almost a year. A man that’s open to communication, handsome, hilarious and to top it off you have great sex with. You’re still not sure if Akito is the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but you’re pretty comfortable by his side. After all, he fills in all the checkmarks.
You’re preparing dinner with him tonight, singing along to one of your favorite songs as you chop some vegetables and he pours you something to drink. As the song and your voice drowns out, you bite down your lip and you prepare yourself to speak. You've had something in your mind for a while, but you’ve been too nervous to say it.
“I think I’m going to leave the agency.” You tell him, as he slides you a glass of your beverage. He continues his task without saying anything, and you feel the need to explain yourself. “I hate leaving on business trips every now and then. I just want to focus on teaching.”
“I get it.” Akito sounds unphased, and it bothers you. You feel his arms as he hugs you from behind before kissing your cheek. You bite down your tongue, unsure as to why you’re annoyed by this. He should be thrilled since it means that you’ll be around more often. 
“Is that all?” You ask, and he hums in response. He lets go of you and grabs a pan to begin his part of the dinner.
“Won’t you miss traveling? You’re going to lose touch with some of your languages.” He finally says, and you purse your lips together. You’re not satisfied by the response. Satoru would’ve reacted differently– No, you can’t compare him to Satoru. Akito would never betray you like Satoru did.
“I can always travel in my free time. Plus, it’d be more enjoyable since I don’t have to worry about work.” You respond, and he hums again. You compare him to Satoru once more in your head, before changing the topic. You can’t compare him to Satoru; after all, they’re on very different levels.
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“Hey!” An all too familiar voice calls out your name when you walk into the school. You begin to walk faster to the building, not wanting to speak to a ghost from your past. It’s been well over a year since the last time you saw him, and you intend to keep it that way. 
You know he’s following after you, and he’s quickly catching up because of his damn long legs. Just as you’re about to enter the building, he grabs your arm, stopping you from going inside and avoiding him. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you look back at him and look into his regretful blue eyes– And your heart skips a beat like the first time.
“May I help you?” You ask, averting your gaze as guilt quickly consumes you. It immediately feels as if you’re cheating on your boyfriend.
“I heard that you’re not working with us anymore and–” Satoru is stumbling over his words, getting nervous. He should probably ask how you are first, or any other small talk but he knows it won’t help in this situation. He can’t waste a single second. “Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know I did with our relationship… But you’re leaving your job as a translator for–”
“Mr. Gojo, my decision is frankly none of your business. The last time we talked was over a year ago, you have little to no influence in my decisions.” You answer, and he gives you a weak nod. “Did you come all the way here just to ask me that?”
“I would feel like shit if I knew I did something else to make you quit… But I guess you wouldn’t leave the agency just because of me.” He runs a hand through his hair, giving it away that he’s nervous. You feel your face get warm, feeling giddy knowing that you make him feel nervous. But you quickly try to shake away those thoughts. 
“I just want to focus on teaching. That chapter of my life is over…” You explain, although you don’t have the need to. “How did you even find out?”
“Heard from a friend of a friend.” He responds before an awkward silence ensues. He should probably speak, but what would he even say? Hey so you remember my secretary, right? The one I cheated on you with? Well she got pregnant and made me believe that it was my baby but it totally wasn’t. That won’t make for great conversation, and frankly it would earn him a punch in the face.
“Will you let go of my arm?” You ask him, and he looks down to see his hand holding your wrist. He nods and lets go of you, muttering an apology for it. You take a good look at his face before turning around to go inside.
“Can we go grab a coffee soon? I’ve been getting counseling and I want to have at least one last conversation with you before moving on.” He says which makes you stop in your tracks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about it… 
Maybe it’s what you need. One last conversation with Satoru will confirm your feelings for Akito. It’ll help you move on to the next chapter of your life with your amazing boyfriend. Not getting closure from Satoru is what’s holding you back .
“Are you free after four?” You ask him, and his eyes widen before quickly nodding.
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Satoru frantically looks around the café, trying to find a sign of you anywhere. It’s five after four, and he’s sure that you’ve stood him up. He’s a nervous wreck as he waits for you. This is what he considers his last conversation with you, and he knows that once you get to the café, his time with you is limited.
He shouldn’t be too upset about it since you haven’t spoken in a while, but knowing that it’s the last time you’ll talk still stings. He dwells on his decisions, regretting everything he’s done that’s led to this. If only he could go back in time, he’d beat himself up for making such a stupid decision. He let go the love of his life, all for nothing.
He zones out, thinking about you. A warm smile comes to his face as he remembers every tiny detail of you and of your relationship. His times with you were some of the happiest of his life, and his stupid self just had to screw that up. 
A snap of a finger brings him back to reality, and he’s overjoyed when he finds you standing in front of him. You bite down your lip as you see your order resting on the table. At least he remembered that.
“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as you sit across from him. You try to act indifferent. As if this doesn’t matter to you at all. You’re here to do him a favor, at least that’s what you’ll make it seem.
“How are you?” He won’t get to the point as easily as he did earlier. He slides your drink, hoping that you’ll take it without a second thought.  You glance at it, but you don’t take it into your hands immediately. 
“I’m great.” You respond, not asking anything back because you don’t want to seem like you care about him even though you do. You’ve been wondering for days on end how Satoru is holding up. Wondering if he’s moved on, if he’s with his secretary or whatnot. “So you’ve been getting counseling.”
“It’s been a rough year.” He chuckles, and you give him a subtle nod. You can relate, but your year has gotten progressively better. You’re happy with where you are. “You’re always on my mind but now more than ever.”
“I would say I’m flattered but… I’m not sure.” You confess with an awkward laugh. He agrees. 
“I haven’t gotten to properly apologize, and I need to do it to move on.” Satoru begins, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I threw away our relationship for nothing. You were the best thing to happen to me, and I messed that up.”
“Yeah…” You feel yourself get emotional, tears welling up in your eyes as you hear the apology. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear it. You thought that never talking to Satoru again would fix your issues, but you feel so much weight lifted from you as you hear his apology. 
You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You won’t begin to cry in front of him. 
“Why did you do it?” You blurt out, wanting an answer for the reason why he betrayed you. You’ve come to terms that it isn’t for your fault, but you still want to know what prompted him to make that decision.
He stays quiet, which makes you ask, “Did I do something?... Was I not enough in that sense?”
“No! No, you’ve always…” Satoru begins, biting down his lip as his cheeks turn pink. It’s almost embarrassing to say out loud. “The best that I’ve ever had.”
“So, what was it?” You ask, and Satoru sighs. He doesn't really know himself. It was just something that happened and he couldn’t stop once it began.
“I’m an idiot, that’s all.” He admits, and it’s not the satisfying answer that’ll ease all of your worries. But it’s enough. “If I could go back in time, I would beat myself up for even thinking about it.”
“I would too.” You joke, and he chuckles in response. He’d deserve it. “But I guess I’m happy you did it. I’m happy with where I’m at now.”
“Really?” He raises a brow, and you nod, further confirming your words. He looks into your eyes, knowing that you don’t mean it. It’s so easy for him to read you. Maybe it’s because you’re with him, and there’s no way that you’d feel happy sitting across your ex-fiancé who betrayed you, but you don’t look happy. That spark that appears in your eyes when you’re overjoyed with your life isn’t there. “I heard you’ve moved on.”
“Yeah. I’m with this guy named Akito. I met him through work.” You share, and Satoru can’t help but furrow his brows. 
“Did you meet through the agency or–”
“The school. His nephew is in my class and we met through a parent teacher conference, since the parents couldn’t show up.” You explain. You finally grab the beverage that Satoru gave you and you begin to drink it. Conversation begins to flow smoothly, and you change to a more lighthearted topic.
You laugh nonstop for almost an hour. Satoru has a lot of flaws, but he knows damn well how to make you laugh. You completely forget that you’ve had a tumultuous past with him. The man in front of you isn’t the man that betrayed you, but simply an old friend that knows you better than anyone.
Though your loving conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you check the time and you realize that you have to go back home soon. You cut him off as he speaks, telling him, “I should get going.”
“Huh? Oh yeah.” He responds as he checks his watch. He got a little carried away, but you didn’t seem to mind. You’re about to stand up, but you take a moment to stare at him.
You bite your tongue, wondering if you should tell him what’s on your mind. Satoru is fun to have around, even if he isn’t your boyfriend or anything like that.
“We should do this again sometime. You might not be the best partner but you make a great friend.” You comment as you stand up. You’re about to walk away, but his voice stops you.
“I can’t.” He says, which takes you back. You’re a bit confused by his response– Is he dating someone? Is that why he can’t become friends with you? No, he wouldn’t have insisted on apologizing if he was seeing someone else. Sure, it gives him ease of mind but Satoru wouldn’t.
Before you can question it, he confesses, “I’m in love with you. I can’t be friends with you while you’re with someone else.” 
“Oh–” Your stomach drops at the confession and your breath hitches. Out of all things he could’ve said, he said that. You open your mouth but quickly close it because you can’t say anything. You’re speechless. You point to the door and say, “I have to go.”
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All the weight that was lifted off your shoulders after your conversation with Satoru, quickly comes back. You’re laying down next to your boyfriend who sleeps so peacefully beside you. He asked to spend the night and you couldn’t refuse. Yet tonight you keep glancing over, and wondering if you’re happy next to him.
You’re comfortable. Akito is a great man and you can see him being with you for the rest of your life. But do you love him? You knew you loved Satoru within a month of dating him, but you’ve been with Akito for a year, and you’re not sure about your feelings
You just want to curse Satoru out for putting you in this situation. You shouldn’t be questioning your feelings for your boyfriend. You’re happy, that’s enough.
You shut your eyes and lay on your side, trying to fall asleep. You aren’t going to question your feelings for your boyfriend because of Satoru. It’s all some dumb tactic to question your feelings. Satoru knew damn well that showing up at your work, and asking you to coffee will make your feelings come back–
Your eyes snap open as you realize that you’re still in love with Satoru.
“What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” Akito speaks up, and from the sound of his voice you know that he’s been awake this whole time. You’ve been squirming, trying to find the right position that will get the unwelcome thoughts out of your head. You sit up on your bed, reaching over to turn on the light.
“I think we have to talk…” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up as well. You told him that you met up with Satoru, something that he had no issue with until now. Now, he’s absolutely worried. With one swift look at him, he knows. He’s gotten to know you better than you know him.
“I should’ve known.” He chuckles, getting out of bed.
“I’m sorry.” You mutter, and he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize for it. You can’t control it.” He says as he begins to get changed in front of you. “It hurts like a bitch but at least we only wasted a year.”
“I’m sorry.” You repeat, burying your face into your hands. “I didn’t think this would happen. He’s hurt me so much and I–”
“It’s not something you can control, so I’m not mad.” He reassures you, but no amount of reassuring is going to make you feel better for what you’re doing to him. 
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After breaking up with Akito, you take a week to decide on what you actually want to do. You love Satoru, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should be together. You come to the conclusion that you want to try one last time; you’ve already wasted four years on him, would it hurt to waste some more time?
You contact him first, and you agree to take things slow. So painfully slow for Satoru, but he’ll take all that you’ll give him. He understands why you don’t want to rush things, so he isn’t annoyed by the fact that your relationship progresses slowly– But he’ll admit he’s tired of using his hand all the time.
A year after reconciling, you leave Satoru high and dry. The most you do is make out, and just when you’re moving to the next base, things come to a stop. You go back home, not even accepting the offer to cuddle. 
But tonight is the night, Satoru feels it in the air.
He’s cleaning up after cooking you a decent meal while you do something. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but he’s happy as long as you’re near. He couldn’t care less if you’re snooping around or stuffing something into your pockets to take back to your own place. 
“Satoru!” You yell, making the man nearly drop a plate. He bites down his lip, knowing that you’re in the bedroom. This is it, he’s sure. But he still has to clean up… Screw it. He can clean up in the morning.
“I’m coming!” He yells, putting the plate down in the sink and nearly running to the bedroom to go after you.
He finds you sitting on the bed, a smile on your face. This is it. 
You stand up, taking a couple of steps toward him before your hands meet behind his neck. You kiss his lips as Satoru’s hands go straight to your ass– That’s the most you’ve let him do. Poor guy has suffered enough, at the very least he can squeeze your butt to deal with this torment.
“What do you think if we–” You begin, and he frantically nods which makes you giggle.
You pull away from him, not allowing him to help as you take off your clothes. His hands go to your hips, but they’re quickly slapped away. You don’t need any help, but he doesn’t mind. Even when you take things so slow tonight. He’s not mad that you’re doing things slow tonight, he’s been waiting for so long to feel you, so he’ll appreciate every second of it. 
Satoru knows that he loves you, but staring at your beauty like this just confirms it more than ever. What a fool he was to even reject you once. And he almost hits himself as you get naked in front of him. How dare he?
Satoru helps you onto the bed before pecking your lips. Satoru begins to hungrily kiss down your neck, going down to your breasts. His tongue rolls around your nipple sucking. His soft hand caresses your thigh, the mere act making you squeeze your legs together. He hums against your nipple, something that earns a moan from you. A simple moan that nearly makes the man come in his pants… He’s needed you for so long.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says when he unlatches from your nipple. He kisses your breasts before going down and kissing your stomach, praising just how beautiful and perfect you are. He’s never been as lucky as tonight– Or well, the night that you decided to give him another chance.
He kisses down until he reaches your cunt, a smirk on his lips but he won’t spread your legs apart just yet. He begins to kiss your thick thighs, the sudden urge to bite down consuming him. It’s just a tiny bite that makes a small cry come from your lips. But you don’t stop him because it feels so good. He licks his lips, looking at his late night meal. 
His head goes down, tongue licks up your folds, almost going insane at the taste of you on his tongue. Satoru spits on your cunt before his lips go to your clit, a moan leaving your lips as you feel his warm mouth on you. 
“Oh, daddy. It’s so good.” Your moans sound like music to his ears. He’s sure he’s enjoying this more than you, even when you begin to moan daddy in total pleasure, he’s sure that he’s missed this more.
Satoru’s mouth kisses your clit before detaching, his tongue going down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy. He teases it, while his thumb plays with your clit. He’s already driving you insane, doing everything that he knows drives you insane. He wants your body to feel like it’s on ecstasy. He needs you to think of him and only him when you need some relief.
His tongue goes back up to your clit, circling around it while his fingers gather your slick.  He pushes two fingers in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. They’re just so thick and long, it’s hard for you to contain yourself. You can’t help but moan, “It’s so good, daddy!”
It encourages him even more. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making you get even louder than before. Your voice is like music to his ears, and he wants to keep hearing it so he’ll do anything and everything to get a reaction from you. He remembers your body better than he expected, though he doubts that it’s something that he’ll ever forget.
He makes it clear how much he loves eating your pussy, moaning against your cunt with every lap of his tongue. Your thighs squeeze around him as you get lost in your own feelings of satisfaction. He’s going crazy. He can die happily right here.
You’re getting louder as pressure builds up on your lower abdomen, your climax approaching. Satoru feels you squeeze around him, fulfilling him. He’s completing his duty. A duty he should’ve been doing over the years.
He’s glad he’s back in between your legs, tasting you on his tongue. There’s no sweeter melody than you moaning in complete pleasure because of him. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reach your peak, but that doesn’t stop Satoru. He takes his fingers out but his tongue keeps lapping at your cunt, running through your folds but mainly focusing on your clit. 
Satoru isn’t stopping until he’s satisfied, which makes you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away. He whines but it doesn’t take him too long to kiss up your body until he reaches your lips. He pecks your lips over and over again until you put your hand over his mouth to stop him. 
“I need you so bad, Satoru.” You tell him, and Satoru doesn’t waste a second. He gets undressed in less than thirty seconds, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. He spits on your cunt before running the tip of his cock through your folds before teasing your entrance. You’re not one for begging, but you’re nearly begging the man to put it in. You’re desperate. “I need to feel you, daddy. Please, please, please! I need it.”
Satoru is dying inside because he doesn’t feel you around him. He needs you more than you need him. Right now. Always. Satoru pushes himself in, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he feels you around him. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moans as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. He begins with slow thrusts, one hand on your plush thigh while the other is on your hip. “I missed you so much.”
His eyes are glued to your face of pleasure, and the look on your face drives him weak. You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s crazy for him that you’re actually with him. Satoru moans your name before biting down his lip. He doesn’t want to be too loud, he’ll just look pathetic.
“Right there–” You moan as he begins to pick up speed. His cock hits every right spot, and it won’t take too long for you to reach your peak again after your first orgasm. It feels like he’s doing everything to drive you over the edge, and you can’t complain.
You’re squeezing around his cock, and he feels like this is an out of body experience with how good he feels. His nails are digging into your soft skin as he tries to contain himself. The hand that’s on your hip goes to your clit, he wants to ensure you orgasm again before he finishes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says. You hate the fact that no one will ever please you the way Satoru does. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why you’re getting back together. He goes just at the right speed, filling you with so much pleasure. Satoru does everything in his power to fulfill you.
You’re coating his cock with your juices, moaning loudly as your second orgasm of the night slowly gets the best of you. Perhaps it’s your high talking, but you’re so glad you took him back, and that you’re having sex with him tonight. You have no idea for how much longer you could’ve gone without him. 
“Oh daddy– I’m gonna–” You begin to announce but before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you. You drive him absolutely insane, how could he have ever screwed things up so badly?
“Can I–” He begins as his thrusts get sloppy, surprised that he’s lasted this long. You couldn’t give him a more resounding yes.
He swore he was done for when you got naked in front of him. He’s moaning, feeling too good as you’re wrapped around him. He can never go so long without you again– In every manner, truly.
Satoru comes to a stop deep inside of you, grunting before filling you up with his cum. He remains buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. When he pulls out, he lays down beside you.
He brings you into his warmth as he kisses your forehead over and over again. Words can’t even describe how he feels as he lays down beside you. He’s needed this for longer than he thought.
He kisses the tip of your nose before saying, “I’ve missed this so much. You’re so perfect.”
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Giving Satoru another chance was one of the best decisions that you could’ve made. Though things took a while to come together, and you don’t blindly trust him like you once did, your relationship is nearly perfect. Sure, Satoru has his flaws but you’re over the moon while you’re at his side.
Things took a while to start up, but then things escalated fast. By a year and five months you were engaged. By two years you were married, which made everyone happy; especially his parents who have always seen you as a daughter. And now after three years, you’re pregnant with your first child.
You’re six months along, expecting a healthy baby. You and Satoru came to an agreement to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, which does cause you to bicker since you think you’re expecting a boy and he badly wants a baby girl. He swears he’s happy regardless.
You’re happy your relationship isn’t stale, like it once was. Truly, every day by Satoru’s side is magical. Though right now…
“Are you almost ready? The venue is an hour away.” You remind Satoru as he decides which tie he wants to wear. Akito’s getting married, and although you don’t have much contact with the man, he’s invited you and Satoru to come; of course, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.
“You can’t rush beauty, my love.” Satoru jokes, making you roll your eyes. He decides to go with a navy blue tie, and he rushes to your side for you to tie it.
“If we’re late, I’m going to be so mad.” You remind him, as you tie his tie for him. You feel his hands resting on your bump, caressing the soft fabric of your dress as a subtle smile comes to his lips.
“It sounds like a dream. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” Satoru says before kissing your forehead. You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be too mad at him when he’s just trying to lighten the situation.
“Can you stop moving?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You kiss his cheek when you’re finished, turning around to walk away before being promptly stopped by Satoru. He wraps his arms around your bump, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Can’t we just stay? Watch a movie or–” He begins, and you glare back at him. “Got it, we have to go.”
“That man helped me through some of my toughest times, the least we can do is go to his wedding and give him a very expensive gift.” You lecture him, and Satoru pouts like a child that’s getting scolded. “Now hurry up.”
“See, you’re hot when you’re mad.” Satoru responds, and you glare at him as if you could kill him. He won’t lie and say it’s not a bit scary, but he’s feeling an emotion that perhaps he shouldn’t be feeling.
You begin to walk away, leaving him to finish getting ready. Even though you’re a pregnant woman, Satoru somehow manages to take longer than you to get ready.
“I love you!” He yells, hoping to calm down the anger that brews inside of you. He should know better than to mess around with your hormonal self, but Satoru can’t help his personality at times.
A sigh escapes your lips, knowing that you can’t leave him hanging as much as he’d love to.
“Love you too, Satoru!”
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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year ago
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Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨
TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming
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(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)
Entrapment
A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?
~~~~
You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.
He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.
You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.
Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.
The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.
~~~~
The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.
Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.
Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.
Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?
It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.
It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.
“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.
“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?
No.
He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.
He just wouldn’t.
“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”
~~~~
Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?
Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.
It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.
In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.
But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.
Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.
~~~~
Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.
Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.
No more calculating.
No more cunning.
No more being methodic.
No more.
Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.
At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.
One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.
After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.
He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.
Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.
You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.
“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago
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Love both your Cannibal + Reader series and your Benjicot Blackwood fics, and had an idea for combining them. Someone insults or threatens Reader and Benji goes absolutely feral, like full on Bloody Ben. And Cannibal’s just like ‘okay, so maybe this one isn’t that bad.’
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This is probably my longest piece ever to date, so be warned that this will take a bit to get through.
It wasn’t necessarily easy to travel anywhere in the seven kingdoms when you rode a dragon like Cannibal, everyone could see you from miles away due to how big he was that even from a far off distance he was still quite easy to spot. So when you and Cannibal landed in the Riverlands for a moment of rest, you were quickly spotted by three young lads who were sword training in the clearing, the lord of house Blackwood Benjicot Blackwood and Oscar and Kermit Tully.
While scared stiff at first and a lengthy discussion in regards of your reasoning for being in the Riverlands, Oscar, Kermit and Benjicot were more then okay with you staying for a few days whilst Cannibal rested up, with Benjicot even going as far as to offer up Raventree Hall as your temporary accommodation until then.
‘I couldn’t lord Blackwood, that’s far too-‘
‘I insist.’ He said as Cannibal looked at him suspiciously, for the dragon had seen that same look upon the young lords face copied on countless others during your trip across Westeros, you had yet again gained the attention another lord unwillingly; much to cannibal’s dismay as the behemoth huffed smoke from his nose in some form of a indignant snort.
This was going to be a long few days for Cannibal, that was for certain.
And a long few days it was as for the next couple of days you and Benjicot had grown quite close to each other during this time, always being seen together no matter where you went as the young lord showed you everything Raventree had; from the shooting ranges, stables, library and more but your favourite place would have to be the Weirwood and it seemed that Benjicot felt the same as he would always accompany you there, arm in arm as though you were a couple of betrotheds, a thought that had became more and more louder the more time you spent with the sweet and somewhat awkward Blackwood lord.
You even got the pleasure of meeting his aunt, Alysanne Blackwood, someone you thought wouldn’t like you but her eyes pretty much light up upon seeing you both as a smile spreads across her face. ‘It is nice to finally meet you, rider of the infamous Cannibal, my nephew here has spoken quite a bit about you as of recently.’ she said as she looks over at Benjicot, who now had a face as bright and red as the ripest cherries.
‘He has?’ You asked as you too now looked at Benji as he refused to meet your eyes, aware of the fact that Cannibal’s head was poking out to look at him dangerously. Benjicot knew of dragons and their bond with their riders was unlike any other but Benjicot was certain that Cannibal was beyond overprotective of you, making him skeptical of anyone and everyone who showed you the slightest bit of interest.
‘Oh he has and in such vivid detail too.’ Alysanne replied as she smirked at the halfhearted glare her nephew gave her. He had always been too easily read when it came to his poorly concealed feelings for you during your time at Raventree, seeing as she often caught him staring at you with wonder while you looked elsewhere. There was an added softness in Benjicot that was only reserved for you and you alone, and that alone made Alysanne want to get to know you better, to understand what her nephew saw in you to be so captivated in such a short span of time.
‘I believe that’s enough from you dear Aunt.’ Benjicot said as he tried to softly ease you into following him back to the Weirwood, somewhere where he wouldn’t be teased for something he had admitted to in private. Why he ever thought that his aunt would ever choose to keep quiet about this over teasing him -and in front of you no less- he’ll never know but what he did know was that he was on borrowed time before you and Cannibal leave Raventree, leave him and the Riverlands for good. So if he wanted to say anything to you before then, he had to act fast but there was one issue; cannibal.
Cannibal didn’t like anyone from what you’ve told him of the countless stories of your journey across Westeros in search of a peaceful place for you and your dragon both, a place far away from the grasp of the war to come, and so far Cannibal hated every last lord and lady that you had met as he found them unworthy of you and your trust.
‘Cannibal doesn’t believe either side of this war is worth saving? And you’re just going to trust his judgment like that?’ Benjicot asked, curious as to how you hadn’t picked a side unlike him, whose mind was made up almost within immediate effect.
‘I am common born Benji,’ you reminded him, ‘and as far as am aware we are the ones who suffer the most during turbulent times liked these, so why should I be forced to choose a side when all they really want is a wild card to call upon when they’re at a disadvantage.’ You looked over at Cannibal and sighed. ‘All they want is control over him and I’m the key, but if they found a way to do so without me, they’d kill me in an instant.’
Benjicot bristled, anger bubbling in his veins as he then said. ‘I wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let them so much as lay a hand on you, I swear it.’ He promised and he truly meant it but much like your dragon, you’ve grown to become distrusting of any word that left a lord or ladies mouth, for they always told the sweetest of lies that you don’t realise until it was far too late.
You smiled bittersweetly at him as you reached over to hold his hand, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. ‘I want to believe you Benji, truly I do, but I just can’t.’ You confessed to him as you stood up with Benjicot following suit. ‘Far too many people have used similar words but haven’t been true to them even in the slightest. I know you’re a honourable man, but I’ve learnt to never give out my trust to those until they’ve earned it.’ You added as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, wanting him to know that he still has some reign over your heart as you took a step back from him, leaving him to realise that this was you saying goodbye; he had ran out of time sooner then he had expected.
‘I’m sorry lord Blackwood, but my time at Raventree hall has come to an end and I thank you for your hospitality but it is time that me and Cannibal leave.’ You were just as sad to leave Benjicot for you finally felt something for someone else that you haven’t experienced in a while, you had fallen for him and that had frightened you and so you’d rather leave and let him find someone else to hold in his heart, despite how painful that would be to witness but you didn’t want to be less astray; not ever again.
And then without another word, you left Benjicot standing under the Weirwood tree, unsure of whether this was actually happening and that he was watching his happiness walk away without him putting up the slightest bit of a fight. He may not fall in love but he knew that when he did he loved hard, and he doesn’t believe that he’ll ever love someone as hard he did you, even if he didn’t say it but Benjicot was certain you knew but were afraid to say it.
Benji knew that he couldn’t keep you here with him in Raventree and while he wanted that to be reality, he knew that reality could be often disappointing and that it would be better to let you and cannibal leave as planned, but he was better off calling himself a coward for the rest of his life if he didn’t at least let you know how he felt. So without a second thought Benjicot bolted down the way you went in hopes of catching up to you in time, pushing himself to go as fast as he could towards the clearing where you first met, all the while his mind raced with all the words he wished to say when he had the chance.
Unfortunately for him it seemed as though the Brackens had gotten to you and Cannibal first, which didn’t help but make him mad, as he saw that cannibal was more then ready to set the Riverlands aflame while you stood in front of him in a protective manner despite the swords being pointed at you.
You were protecting Cannibal at the expense of yourself for you believed that he held more value than you did, whereas Benjicot thought that you were just as valuable as your dragon companion.
‘Bracken!’ Benjicot shouted, causing everyone to look at him as he drew his sword, a crazed look in his eye.
‘Benji?’ You whispered as you watched him take a stand in front of you, shielding you from the very people who had been threatening you into giving up Cannibal, all the while looking like a man possessed by anger and a need for bloodshed.
‘Blackwood.’ The man with brunette hair spat as he trained his sword at Benjicot’s throat, forgetting you and cannibal almost immediately. ‘This business has nothing to do with so.’ Benji scoffed as he took a step forward, allowing for the tip of his rivals blade to be but a hairs breath from piercing his skin. ‘This is Blackwood land.’ he sneered, caring about nothing else but keeping you safe from harm. ‘So of fucking course this is my business, considering that it looks to me that you were about to harm them and their dragon.’
You couldn’t help but watch on helplessly as the tension grew heavy the longer this tense stand off continued between rivalling houses, you could tell through your bond that Cannibal was curious, calm even as he wanted to see who spills the others blood first; the Bracken boy with the brunette hair or Benjicot.
Cannibal do something, anything. You said telepathically to your dragon.
He’s fighting for your honour little one and it would be a dishonour if I were to intervene. Cannibal responded.
You groan you only want to watch the bloodbath and eat who’s leftover. You replied disgruntled.
While that may be a reason but watch young Blackwood closely my dear, for his next move may surprise you as well as I. Cannibal said as you head his words and watched as the Bracken try to attack Benji first, only for Benji to intercept the attack with one of his own that sent the man you now knew as Aeron staggering backwards, all the while Benjicot ran his tongue over his teeth as he smiled chaotically.
It was something that shouldn’t have elicit a reaction out of you but the sight of this side of Benjicot definitely had its..effect over you as you tried to stop the heat from spreading across your cheeks.
. ‘Is that half assed attempt all you got?’ He scoffed, ‘I’m not in surprised, you Brackens fight like a bunch of pussies.’ He continue to goads Aeron, who only scowls and tries to attack Benjicot again but fails as the young Blackwood lord side stepped him before bringing the pommel of his sword down on the Brackens back, causing him to fall pathetically to the ground as his sword fell out of his reach.
‘What’s so important about this bitch and their overgrown reptile that makes you pick up the sword Blackwood.’ Aeron spat as he struggled to get back up. His words seemed to have angered Benji more as he was quick to grab Aeron by the cloak he wore, and then threw him one handedly so that he was forced to look up at Benji, just as he puts his foot on his chest and leans in close with his sword pointed at Aeron’s neck and nicking the skin there.
‘They mean more to me than you’ll ever understand.’ Benjicot said lowly. ‘Their life is worth your more than everyone in house Bracken combined, and I don’t take lightly to when they’re being threatened by the likes of craven little cunts like you.’ He finished before lifting his foot up and brining it down on Aeron’s head, knocking him out completely before looking at you with the soft expression that you were most familiar with, dropping his sword and holding your face between his calloused hands.
‘Are you okay?’ He asked but you were paying more attention to what Cannibal said.
He’s not so bad, little one. The behemoth tells you with pride. Quite the fighter with an insatiable lust for bloodshed, he’s a worthy suitor for your hand.
‘Yeah,’ you tell him, smiling as you held your hands over his own, ‘I’m fine, we both are thanks to you.’ You add and Benjicot smiles as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your forehead without a second thought before resting his head there afterwards, closing his eyes as he sighed in relief. ‘Good. I’m glad.’ He whispered.
‘Benji?’ You asked softly.
‘Yeah?’ He replied, wanting to stay in this moment for a little while longer.
‘I trust you.’ You tell him wholeheartedly, causing him open his eyes to look at you.
‘Really?’ He asks, hoping that this wasn’t a dream.
‘Yes Benji, I trust you-‘ before you could finish those words, Benji had already leaned in for a kiss, which you quickly melted into as you reciprocated his feelings by returning his passion with your own, lips weaving against one another and hot tongues pressing against hot tongues messily.
Everything was perfect until you heard Cannibal speak inside you head.
Little one if you wanted to fuck him, you need only ask for me to leave for a while.
Needless to say cannibal ruined the mood.
‘Cockblocker.’ Benjicot muttered as cannibal huffed smoke at him.
Carful little bird, I can still eat you.
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months ago
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Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao
——
Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).
The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.
Danny took out his phone.
“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”
Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”
“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”
“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.
“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”
“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”
“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”
“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”
“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.
“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”
“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”
Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.
Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.
Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.
“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.
If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.
——
Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.
“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.
Batman grunted a yes.
“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”
Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.
"Is this..."
"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."
Batman stared at the picture.
"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"
"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."
Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.
"I heard you had something about Luthor?"
Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."
Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.
"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.
"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.
"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"
Batman grunted.
"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."
Batman swiveled his head over. "What."
Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."
Batman stilled.
"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."
Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."
"And why not?"
Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"
"... Point."
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adispit · 3 months ago
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Hii! Do u write for xiao ?? If u do can u do with a amab reader who is extremely sensitive during sex and gets overstimulated really easily and cries??
A Hefty Price
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Xiao x bttm m! thief reader
content warnings: slight dubcon, overstimulation, reader cries, Xiao is a little ooc bc he’s irritated and pissed here, mindbroken reader (fucked into oblivion), punishment sex (?)
note: hiya I didn’t know if u wanted plot with it so I just did it, hope you enjoy 😭🫶
You always thought you could get away with it. Xiao’s warnings, his sharp glares, the low growl in his voice whenever he caught you—it had become almost a routine, something predictable. You'd brush off his words, slip through his fingers, and disappear into the night with whatever prize you'd set your eyes on.
Maybe that’s why you kept going. Deep down, you believed Xiao would be lenient with you forever. That no matter how many times he cornered you, no matter how many times he said, “This is your last chance," there would always be one more.
But tonight was different.
The moment you saw him step out from the shadows, his figure illuminated by the pale moonlight, you knew something had shifted. His eyes weren’t just filled with the usual exasperation or annoyance. There was something darker, more primal, simmering beneath the surface.
You should’ve stopped.
But instead, you smirked, brushing off the unease creeping up your spine. "What, are you here to lecture me again, Xiao?" you teased, trying to keep your voice light. "You know how this goes. I’ll be gone before you even—"
You never got to finish your sentence.
Xiao moved faster than you’d ever seen him before, closing the distance between you in an instant. One moment, you were standing, your usual bravado shielding you from the weight of his presence, and the next, you were pressed against the stone wall of Wangshu Inn, your wrists pinned above your head in a grip so tight it made you gasp.
"Xiao—" you choked, but the words were caught in your throat as you met his gaze. His golden eyes bore into yours, no longer just filled with warning, but with an animal like intensity that sent your pulse racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear—and everything to do with something far more dangerous.
"You think I’ll let this slide again?" His voice was low, rough, almost unrecognizable in its rawness. His face was mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "That I’ll keep letting you walk away like nothing happened?"
His grip tightened around your wrists, his body pressing you harder against the cold stone. The sudden, brutal force of it made your heart stutter, a flicker of panic mixing with something else you didn’t want to name. He wasn’t just angry—he was done. Done with your games, done with your teasing, and done with your refusal to take him seriously.
"You always brush off my warnings," Xiao growled, his voice so close, so filled with something dark and primal that it made your knees weak. "You think I’ll be lenient forever, that I won’t do anything to stop you."
You swallowed hard, the smirk that had once danced on your lips now completely gone. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to understand what was happening. Xiao had always been intense, but this—this was different. He wasn’t holding back anymore.
"You’ve pushed me too far," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. His hand left your wrist, sliding down to your throat in one swift, controlled motion, his thumb pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. "You think I’ll keep forgiving you? That you can keep stealing, keep defying me, without consequences?"
His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "No more."
Your chest tightened at the finality in his tone, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had always played with fire, but now, you were burning. Xiao’s restraint, his patience—it was gone, replaced by something far more wild, far more dangerous.
"I… I didn’t think—" you stammered, trying to gather your wits, but Xiao wasn’t having it.
"That’s your problem," he interrupted, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make you still. "You never think. You believe you’re untouchable, that you can keep running from your consequences."
His fingers pressed harder against your skin, his body trapping yours completely against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he watched the realization wash over you. For the first time, you truly understood—you had gone too far. You had pushed him too far.
You opened your mouth to speak, to say something, but nothing came out. His grip on you was unyielding, his presence overwhelming. The usual playfulness you had wielded against him was gone, shattered under the weight of his fury.
His other hand slid down your side, pinning you in place with a strength that left no room for argument. You gasped, the pressure making it clear that this time, there was no escape.
"You never took me seriously," he murmured darkly, his lips brushing against your neck, sending heat coursing through you. "But I’m going to show you exactly how serious I can be."
Your breath hitched as his hand moved lower, tracing the lines of your body with a possessive touch, one that made it clear—he wasn’t playing around anymore. There was no teasing, no games. You had crossed the line, and Xiao was about to teach you the consequences of defying him.
"You’ll remember this," Xiao muttered, his voice filled with quiet dominance as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body leaving no space for resistance. "You’ll remember who you belong to."
Your heart raced, fear and something else—a darker, more dangerous thrill—mixing together as you realized just how far you had pushed him. Xiao wasn’t fucking around anymore.
And now, you were going to pay for it.
Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, your heart thundering against your ribs as you stared up at him, completely at his mercy. Letting out a quiet whimper at his gaze, you could feel heat pool in your core, inwardly groaning as his body pushed against yours, giving you no space to retreat or run. “Quiet, (name). Take your punishment.” He shot you a silent glare of disapproval as he fumbled clumsily at your pants.
You weren’t stupid, despite haven’t done this kind of thing before, but you knew what the Yaksha was trying to do, and was clear to your eyes. There was a flash of thought that crossed your mind that if Xiao was the one standing before you, and you weren’t pinned against a wall, you might have considered sharing your first with him.
Your body, however, was much more honest. As he freed your cock, it was already erect, as pearls of precum slid down your length, the cold night air graced your naked lower abdomen. Teeth chattering as the cold wind blew, it didn’t stop your cheeky mouth teasing him much to your regret later on, “Seems like the yaksha is quite the inexperienced one— Ah!” He gripped your dick forcefully, sending a shock of mixed sensations of pain and pleasure through your body. “You never shut up do you, mortal?” Xiao rebuked unhappily as he gingerly jerked your cock up and down, bringing about an onslaught of sheer pleasure and ecstasy that seemed to intertwine with each other.
Being a virgin yourself, it didn’t take for you to release, splattering ropes of white cum into his hand as you let out a strangled gasp. Your eyes widened as you felt Xiao's teeth graze your sensitive skin, a shudder running through your body. The combination of pleasure and discomfort had your nerves alight, every touch sparking a new wave of sensation.
"Nnh...haaah..." You whined, hips bucking involuntarily as you grinded down against the firm muscle of Xiao's thigh. The friction provided some respite, but it wasn’t enough to quell the ache building in your core.
“Stay still.” He let out a growl of frustration before biting down on your collarbone, fangs glinting in the moonlight, sunken into your sinewy skin. The bruising pain and burning pleasure felt indistinguishable as your mouth hung open with inaudible gasps escaping.
“You don’t listen,” he murmured darkly, his breath warm against the raw skin of your collarbone. His teeth released your skin, leaving the bruised, throbbing mark of his claim, the sting lingering like a brand. “You never listen.” His tongue flicked out to trace the bite, sending another wave of heat through your body.
Not intending to give you a break, his fingers thrust into your waiting hole, making you squirm and writhe, insides clenching around his fingers. “Hhn!” A gasp left your lips as you felt the fingers prodding a certain bundle of nerves, nudging it repeatedly until you was moaning incoherently. A little sob even escaped you, as your cock twitched, spurting white all over your own pelvis again. Your whole body quivered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the stimulation didn’t cease, your breath came out in ragged gasps, each one more shallow than the last as your body trembled under his control.
The Yaksha’s name left your lips in a stutter.
The pleasure left you reeling in its wake like a tidal wave engulfing your body in full force. Tears began to decorate your eyes as you let out small hiccups and chokes from the merciless sensations that seemed to plague your fatigued body endlessly.
Xiao’s hand shifted from your ass to your chin, forcing you to look at him. His golden eyes bore into yours, sharp and unyielding. For a moment, something flickered in them—a recognition of the tears that now streamed down your face, glistening in the moonlight.
But his grip didn’t soften.
“Are you crying?” Xiao’s voice was rough, his words cutting through the haze between you. His thumb brushed against your cheek, smearing the tear across your skin. “After everything, you still don’t understand.”
“I’ll make you understand.” You let out a scream as he impaled you on his cock, the girthy length bullying his way into your insides, searing his shape into your walls. There was pain, yet most of it became pleasure as Xiao started to thrust in and out of your tightness. Inaudible, slurred cries escaped you as you hung your head low, body rocked back and forth as Xiao fucked you deep and slow. The tears kept falling, but you were helpless to stop them. Everything about this moment felt too intense, too overwhelming.
Half-sober, you muttered pleas and apologies from your hoarse throat amidst the obscene squelches of his cock kissing your walls repeatedly. “Too late.” He huffed a noncommittal sigh as he put your arms over his shoulders and carried your limp legs with his arms before driving his hips against yours with full force.
Your brain was mush at this point, barely registering anything as your overstimulated hole rapidly twitched and clenched around Xiao’s disappearing cock into your hole. Your cock let out pitiful drops of cum, if that could even be called that, as you had truly lost count on how many times you had climaxed simply from the sensation of his cock scraping against your sensitive walls.
You had truly paid a hefty price.
note: might have made him a little too intense here sry 😢 but i ran w it he’s tired w readers shit lol 😹
Reblogs are appreciated!
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girlgenius1111 · 5 months ago
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no time
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jenni hermoso x reader. jenni is feeling neglected by how much time r is spending away from her, focused on football and getting her degree. jenni decides r is avoiding her, and pulls away too. eventually, it all becomes too much for r, who is feeling the pressure from everyone and everything. i would say teeny amount of angst and majority amount of fluff. for all the underfed jenni girls 😌😌
-----
Jenni knew you were busy. She knew you had a million things going on, and that the lack of time you’d been spending her was probably completely unintentional. A more insecure part of her worried that it was intentional, but she tried to quiet that part down. The Spaniard came across as a very outgoing, confident individual, and for the most part, she was. In her relationships, though, she had an issue with asking for what she needed, just like you did. She craved your attention and your company, but something inside of her just… wouldn’t let her ask for it. 
And it wasn’t like Jenni wasn’t trying to spend time with you. She’d come into the office while you were studying, trying to convince you to take a break. In the past few weeks, the answer had been no. You were drowning in school work, with practices picking up in frequency and intensity for the team. When you did have time to focus on school, you were always rather exhausted. Adding another 2 classes to your course load this term had been a mistake if you’d ever made one. Instead of the two you normally took, sometimes three, you were taking four. Four more classes, and you’d be done with your degree, fulfilling your promise to your parents to have a backup plan in case football didn’t work out. Maybe you didn’t deserve a degree. It was pretty idiotic to come to the conclusion that four classes wasn’t that much more than two.
Jenni had never cared for school, getting it done as soon as she could. She loved you, a lot, but she couldn’t really comprehend the deeply ingrained need you had to get your degree, and get perfect marks. She was supportive nonetheless, but she didn’t really quite understand what another two classes would entail. For the first part of the term, it had been manageable. Now, things had piled up, and you were absolutely drowning. 
You were a perfectionist, and you’d do anything to make sure your university work was perfect, your football was perfect, at the expense of everything. Even your own wellbeing. And, apparently, Jenni’s wellbeing too, although you weren’t quite aware of the toll your lack of time spent with her was causing. 
It was really a lack of communication that caused things to bubble over. 
Jenni felt neglected. And you wanted nothing more than for her to pull you away from your late night study sessions and remind you to put yourself first, because you were sure you couldn’t do it yourself. If either of you had just spoken to the other, it would have been resolved so easily. Jenni would have realized that you needed her, but were too stressed to really know what you needed. And you would have realized that giving Jenni space wasn’t some kind of gift for her, and that she would be happy to sit next to you while you studied and just keep you company. Communication was an area that your relationship tended to struggle, though. It was a work in progress, and this situation clearly presented where there was still progress to be made. 
-----
As you typed away at your computer, you again wondered why on earth you had added classes. Another term would have been worth it, if only to avoid this hell. It was Tuesday, and you had 3 essays due on Sunday. The week was stuffed full of training and extra workouts, though, and then the team was traveling for an away game. Everything had to be done by Friday, or it wouldn’t get done, and that wasn’t an option. 
Not only did it have to be done, it had to be perfect. There was no possibility of halfassing any assignment. You’d tried before, but you always ended up redoing it until it was perfect, and it was just much easier to do it the first time around. 
You had just finished the first essay, which was at the very end of the page limit. It was up to your standards, you decided, reading over it once more before turning it in. You should have felt relieved, that one of the things hanging over your head was now completed. Instead, you could only look to the next essay, and the one after that. And the exam next week, the project the week after. It was so easy to get overwhelmed if you thought too hard about everything, so you did your best to focus on each task one at a time. 
Perhaps it was this very narrow view of your life that had you not really thinking about your girlfriend in the other room. She’d been waiting for you to emerge from the office all afternoon, only getting you to take a short break to eat. 
She just wanted to spend time with you. Catch up on a show, or hold you on the couch and talk. It didn’t make any sense to her, why couldn't you just put the schoolwork down for one night, and pay attention to her. Maybe you would have, if she’d just asked for it. Instead, she sat quietly in the living room, trying her best not to cry as her feelings began to overwhelm her. Was she really that horrible to spend time with? That her own girlfriend preferred mindless busy work to being with her?
Deciding to end her pity party, she wiped at her eyes, checking in the front hall mirror that there were no visible tear marks, before she made a very pathetic attempt to get your attention. It wasn’t very late, but training had been grueling today, and Jenni knew that if she was tired, you must be exhausted. 
“Mi amor?” Jenni called from the doorway of the office. “Are you coming to bed?” 
You didn’t even turn your head away from the screen in front of you for a full 20 seconds, and when you finally did, it was to stare almost blankly at your girlfriend. “Huh?” 
“I was just- I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.” Before you could reply, Jenni was turning around and heading down the hall towards the bedroom. No goodnight kiss, no request for you to join her.  You blinked after her, struck by how cold she’d just been with you. Now that you thought about it, she’d been like that for a few days, and you hadn’t noticed. 
You turned back to your outline, copying lines from your notes mindlessly as you tried to figure out the source of Jenni’s frustration. Of course, you settled on yourself. You were a disaster at the moment, and you knew that. The only logical thing you could come up with was that Jenni was just… annoyed with having to deal with you like this. There were only a few weeks left of term, and you decided to try to bother her as little as possible until then. Once school was over, for good, you could go back to being the smiley, relaxed girlfriend Jenni was used to. The one Jenni preferred. 
You had very little clarity of when you fell asleep. One second, you were typing away, eyes drooping. The next, you were facedown asleep, your face smushed into your keyboard. 
Jenni managed to fall asleep without you next to her, but did not remain that way for long. After only two hours she woke, frowning to herself when she realized the bed was still practically made on your side. With a sigh, she dragged herself from bed and walked down to the office, prepared to drag you to bed if she had to. Even if you were avoiding her, she had to put her foot down somewhere; this was bordering on unhealthy. 
She trudged into the office, lips curving into a small smile as she noticed you out cold on your laptop. It didn’t look very comfortable, and the quiet inhales and marks on your cheek told her you’d been asleep for a solid amount of time. 
“Amor,” Jenni sang, her voice soft and loving as she roused you from a deep sleep. 
“Jen?” You picked your head up, blinking groggily up at her, and winced at the knot that had appeared in your neck. You’d fallen asleep, you realized. It was dark in the room, and Jenni’s face was half hidden by shadows. It was unreadable, and you cursed yourself internally for immediately breaking the promise you’d made to yourself just a few hours prior. The promise to not make Jenni suffer through your stress along with you. She must be so upset with you, having to come check on you like you were a child. Still, Jenni was kind and you knew that the way she carefully picked you up and cradled you to her chest didn’t mean she still wasn’t annoyed. It didn’t mean you weren’t being too much for her, it just meant Jenni was a good person. 
“Let’s go to bed, sí?” She cooed, carrying you down the hall. 
You nodded into her chest, allowing yourself a moment of comfort. You fought against the tightness in your throat and the moisture in your eyes as you realized just how exhausted you were, not wanting to make the situation any worse. Warmth filled your girlfriend’s chest at the feeling of having you so close to her again, but that feeling faded quickly when she placed you down on the bed, and you immediately rolled to the edge of your side. As far from her as possible. 
This cemented it in her mind, honestly. That you were avoiding her on purpose, using your school work as an excuse. And you were only more sure that she was tired of how much stress you brought to her life when she didn’t curl her body around yours, as she normally did. Both of you were miserable as you drifted off, completely incorrectly convinced that the other person was angry.  
-----
You were not a morning person, but your girlfriend was. It was your daily routine at this point for her to wake you up in the morning, a mug of coffee in her hand and a soft smile on her face, dimples just barely peeking out. Or, you’d wake to her curled around you, her breaths steady puffs on your neck. Never, never, did you wake to nothing. No Jenni at all. Your alarm went off, and you groaned, feeling that the few hours of sleep were not enough. You were barely conscious, rolling onto the other side of the bed in search of your girlfriend’s warm body. Nothing. 
Waiting a beat, you listened for her footsteps coming up the stairs. Nothing. Minutes passed with no appearances from the striker, and you rolled over towards the bedside table, grabbing your phone. Her location showed her already at the training grounds, a full hour early. You pictured her taking free kicks from all over the pitch, the same scowl on her face she always got when she was worked up about something. You loved that scowl, despite the cause of it. You liked to make it turn into a huge grin, one that brought out the dimples on her cheeks. 
God you missed her. Suddenly, with full force, you missed her deeply. Though you’d seen her last night, it felt like you’d been gone for weeks. You supposed you had, too caught up in your school work to think of much else. You wondered if she missed you, too, or if she was glad for the break.
No way to know, you decided, even though there very clearly was. Deciding that you could get a bit of your next essay done before you had to get ready for training, you dragged yourself out of bed and down the hall to get some coffee. There was some left on the counter for you, in a mug that had Jenni’s face on it, a joke gift she’d given you last christmas. On the very rare occasions Jenni had to leave the house before you were up, she almost always left a little note. Sometimes it was something cheesy and adorable, and other times it was just a heart. Today, there was nothing but the mug, the coffee inside already cold. 
------
When Jenni entered the house after dinner, she was feeling kind of guilty for being so distant the past few days. Especially after seeing how exhausted you were the night before. With the whole day to think about things, she realized maybe she should be more worried than upset with you. 
She’d left before you were even awake. Obviously, you couldn’t discuss anything at training, and you’d gone straight to the library after to work on your essay. Jenni had made herself get out of the house, getting together with a few friends, texting you quickly that she wouldn’t be home for dinner.  
She knew she’d been a bit immature and that she should have just communicated her issue to you. Before you, she’d never felt needy. Now, though, it felt like any time away from you was difficult. And the distance she’d forced in the past few days hadn’t made her feel better like she thought; she hadn’t gotten used to not being around you. Instead, she just missed you even more. Maybe she would have talked to you, honestly, if she hadn’t been convinced that you were upset with her, tired of her. 
She couldn’t hear the clicking of the keyboard coming from the office, and that would have been her first guess as to your location. Moving further into the house, Jenni looked around, finally spotting you in the living room. You weren’t lounging in the armchair, watching a show, like she’d been expecting. Instead, you were curled up into a ball on the sofa, sobbing into your hands. It was loud and painful, and the brunette was sure that you hadn’t even heard her enter the house. There were papers scattered around you, your computer set aside, still open to the essay that just wouldn’t get done. 
The small sounds you were making in between each sob broke Jenni’s heart, and it only took her a minute to unfreeze, and cross the room. 
“Amor, hey,” she cooed, crouching down next to the sofa and trying to tug your hands away from your face. You jumped slightly, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. You thought you’d have more time to hide your breakdown before Jenni got home.
“Go away.” You murmured, attempting to move away from her. Jenni was strong, though, and before you could move very far, you were being pulled into her lap. 
“No. Talk to me.” Jenni encouraged, finally getting a look at your face. Her stomach dropped as she realized just how exhausted you were, and just how upset. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to stop your tears, fighting against the urge to lean into your girlfriend. If the past day had taught you anything, it was that Jenni didn’t need to deal with your stress. That was the reason she must have been pulling away, and you wanted to respect her obvious need for space. 
“I’m fine, Jenni, just go to bed. I’ll be in later.” Your voice was raspy from crying, and Jenni’s brow furrowed. 
Shaking her head, she leaned in to place the gentlest of kisses on your cheek. “Cari, I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is wrong.” 
Again, it felt like every part of you was begging to collapse into her. You just couldn’t do it. “You have enough on your plate. Don’t worry about me.” Even as you spoke, tears ran down your face, and you sniffled pitifully. 
Jenni rolled her eyes in response, her slender fingers pushing your hair away from your face. “I love you, I am going to worry about you. Especially when I find you like this. Now tell me what is wrong so I can fix it.” 
There was nowhere for you to look but at her, and her eyes were so earnest and so concerned, you gave in. “I-I’m just so stressed, Jen. I can’t- there isn’t enough time for me to get everything done and I’m so tired and I can’t do this anymore I’m losing my mind, and I’m too much for you and I just-”
Jenni became laser focused on the end of your rambling sentences, her hands working frantically to run through your hair and caress your face in comfort. “No, you are not too much for me, mi amor. Never. Why would you think that?” 
Looking at her with wide eyes, you wondered why she was lying. “You’ve been avoiding me these past few days. You’ve barely been here, you left this morning without even waking me, I-”
Shaking her head rapidly, Jenni felt guilt tugging at her. She should have known better, should have known you’d never do anything to hurt her, but yourself? That was another story. “Amor, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I was only trying to give you space.”
“I was trying to give you space.” You choked out. “I thought you were tired of me.” 
“No, mi amor, no.” Jenni sighed, gripping you by the shoulders and internally cursing herself. “I thought you were tired of me. You’ve been so busy, and I just thought you wanted to spend less time with me.” 
‘No, I didn’t want that.” You shook your head, shrugging her hands off your shoulders, only to wrap your own arms around her abdomen and bury your face in her neck. “I was just so busy and so overwhelmed, I didn’t want to stress you out.” 
With a gentle hand on the back of your head, Jenni pressed you in closer to her and left a kiss on the side of your head. “You do not stress me out. I want to help you when you are stressed, but I cannot do that if it feels like you do not want me around.” 
You nodded into her neck, knowing she likely felt the tears running off your face and onto her skin. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered. 
“It’s alright, cari. I’m sorry too, I should have noticed you were stressed.” 
When she only got a shrug in response, she leaned you back from her and studied your face closely. “What’s going on, hmm? School doesn’t normally get you like this.” 
Subconsciously, you tried to match the rise and fall of your girlfriend’s chest, willing yourself to just calm down so you could have a conversation. “It’s the extra classes. It’s way too much, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m barely getting everything done and it’s building up and-” 
“Extra classes?” Jenni asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. 
You blinked at her. You’d told her about the extra classes… right? Admittedly, Jenni didn’t listen very hard when you talked about school, so it was entirely possible she’d just missed it, but she always remembered the important things. “I told you. I’m taking four this term.” 
“Four! Why would you do that?!” Jenni exclaimed, her face so comically surprised, you had to fight a smile. “You didn’t tell me, amor.” 
“I did!” You argued back. “So I can finish school this term instead of after the next one.” 
Jenni shook her head, her face turning slightly stern. “You did not tell me. That is too much, mi amor, why would you do that? No wonder you’re so overwhelmed.” She tutted. 
You thought hard, your eyebrows scrunching in a way Jenni found downright adorable. “Oh. I decided when I was home with my family for the holidays. I must have told them and forgotten to tell you…”
You looked at Jenni wearily, wondering if she’d be upset. Instead, she was chuckling at you and shaking her head. It was very you to forget something like this. Jenni liked to joke that you spend all your brain power on football and school, and there wasn’t any left over for common sense. 
“Sorry, Jen. I thought I told you.” You mumbled, face turning red with embarrassment. Maybe your girlfriend would have been annoyed, if she wasn’t so very in love with you. All your quirks, though, were just silly to her, endearing. She had become horrifically soft for you, she realized. 
“It’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose.” Jenni said kindly. “I understand now, why you’ve been so busy. But, amor, if it is too much, why don’t you just drop a class? Or turn in a few assignments late. You only need a certain grade to pass, no? Not everything has to be perfect. You have to give yourself a break.” 
It was everything you’d needed to hear, and still, everything you refused to believe. You couldn’t drop a class, couldn’t get less than a perfect score. You didn’t deserve a break, not until everything was done. Jenni’s face fell as your eyes began to water again, and she worried she said the wrong thing. 
A flood of words spewed from your mouth, trying to help her understand what you didn’t even really understand. “I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to take a break without someone telling me to, I feel like my body is shutting down Jenni, I’m so tired,” you sobbed, once more pressing your face into her chest, likely staining her shirt with tears. She was quick to wrap you in a hug, hushing you quietly. 
“Oh, mi amor.” She sighed, stroking her fingers through your hair. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were having a hard time, I’m sorry I didn’t help.” 
That felt like an incredibly ridiculous thing for her to apologize for, and you told her so. “You shouldn’t have to do that, you shouldn’t have to take care of me like that”
“Of course I do. I want to. That is what partners do, no?” She replied incredulously, using her sleeve to gently swipe the tears off your face. She hated to see you cry, but she loved how long your eyelashes got when they were wet with tears; it made your eyes look bigger, somehow, and it always made her want to hold onto you and never let go. 
“You don’t have to.” You argued weakly. 
Jenni kissed you gently instead of replying right away, her soft lips pressing into yours telling you more than she could probably convey with words. “I’m going to, cariño.” 
“Okay.” You whispered, effectively convinced by her kiss, knowing Jenni well enough to know that if you agreed with her, she’d kiss you again. And she did. 
“We’ll start now then. Let’s take a break. We can lay on the couch and take a nap and then order dinner in.” She was already shutting your computer and carefully putting your notes into a pile, before placing it all on the table. 
“But my essay,” you argued halfheartedly, knowing you would probably only be capable of writing incomprehensible sentences at this point. The striker turned back to you, a stern look on her face once again. Jenni shook her head firmly, her thumbs running back and forth across your cheeks in an incredibly soothing manner. “No essay is worth this. You need to take a break, and rest.” 
“I- I don’t…”
“Hmm? You don’t what, amor?” Her voice held a challenge, almost begging you to argue with her about needing a break. She didn’t understand, but she wanted to, more than anything. 
“I didn’t finish.” You whispered. “I don’t deserve a break until I’m done.” 
“Cariño,” Jenni sighed, gently pulling on the back of your neck until you’d tucked your face in against her. She kissed the top of your head, mumbling her next words into your hair. “You are not a machine. You deserve a break whenever you need one, and you need one right now. No arguments.” 
And though it felt all wrong, you let Jenni remove all your study materials from the room, putting them god knows where. She returned, sliding onto the couch and pulling you so you were laying in her arms. 
Once your favorite show had been put on the TV, you looked up at her, chin resting on her chest. “I’m really sorry you felt so neglected, Jen.” You murmured. Now that you were no longer panicked about not getting your essay done, guilt had flooded you. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I promise. I’m so-”
“It’s okay, mi amor.” Jenni smiled. Now that her insecurities had been relatively addressed, [and now that she felt ridiculous for having them in the first place,] her only focus was on getting you to relax. Incidentally, that meant you would be spending a fair amount of time with her going forward, and that was a win for the striker. “I do not want to hear any more about it, si? All is forgiven.” 
Jenni’s ability to forgive was one of her best traits, and you knew that when she said she forgave you, she meant it. 
“Now, for my plan.” She continued, smiling almost mischievously at you. 
“Your plan?” You asked wearily. 
“Si, my very smart and well thought out plan.” Jenni grinned. “We are going to make a schedule. There will be Jenni time and study time, but not too much study time.” 
“What about too much Jenni time?” You smirked. 
She frowned at you. “That is not possible.” 
You laughed, laying your head back down on her chest. “Anything else?” 
“And now it is nap time, because your eyes are falling shut and you slept for three hours last night.” Her arms locked around you, allowing no escape. Not that you wanted one. 
“Okay.” You mumbled, squirming slightly until your face was tucked into her neck, blocking out the light of the room. You drifted off quickly, lulled into sleep by Jenni’s hands rubbing up and down your back, and the rise and fall of her chest under you. 
Jenni waited an entire hour to order dinner, thinking that she could wake you when it arrived, if you weren't already awake. She got the message that the food had been delivered a half hour after that, trying to wipe the stupid grin off her face at the way you were curled up on top of her. How she could have ever doubted your love for her, she wasn’t sure. 
“Amor? The food is here.” She whispered, pushing your hair out of your face enough to see that your eyes were shut, your face relaxed. Giving up ridiculously quickly, she settled into the couch, allowing you to stay asleep. The food could wait. You needed the rest, and your girlfriend was more than happy to be a pillow for you, for as long as you needed her to be.  
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as if i would study if i was jenni's girlfriend, and not spend the whole day looking at her like 🙂
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suguru-getos · 2 months ago
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Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — K. Bakugou x f!Reader
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Summary: You, a top model meet pro hero Dynamight on your Victoria's Secret fashion show. You didn't know how easily you both could cling like magnets. Maybe you found your soulmate, why else does it seem so easy? So loving? So ethereal? A/N: I missed writing my Jerk (Bakugou) so here I go. The character is giving off Y/N from Wattpad almost (KEKEKEK) :3 What! Sue me! Also brb gonna take a bath in holy water after this. Not beta'd take the typos like a pro ;) also this is probably my longest fic IN A WHILE and that's saying something!!! Warnings: N!pple play, F!ingering, S3x(P in V), missionary, doggy-style, squ!rting, breed!ng, dirty talk, spank!ngs. Let me know if I missed anything. :3 Oh and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF
You sucked in a breath when you heard the announcements go off, the announcer urging the models to get done with their hair & makeup fast. It wasn’t like any other show, honestly. It was the Victoria’s Secret show. The internet alone can swamp any and every other news when this ‘phenomenon’ occurs. You have been on a strict diet of salads, high pilates & cardio, and for the past two days — dehydration to show your abs more. Being a successful model is all about making it look effortless even if it’s all graft, tenacity & utterless devotion. No career is easy at the end of the day after all.
“Y/n, are you okay? The show is about to start.” Your manager, also the manager of this event comes up to you, long, poised strides in her red bottom pencil heels. She’s wearing a satin, well-tailored coat and a skirt. “Can’t wait to munch on a fucking burger and drink a gallon of cold soda.” You smirk, your eye makeup was completed, the final touches of the makeup setting spray was splayed on by the makeup artist tending to you.
“You look gorgeous, Y/n.” He commented, voice feminine & fashion sense incredible. He was gay, and one of your best friends in the industry. “Man, so many people would be here in the show.” You snorted, “who’s coming to sing?” Your curiosity is piqued. There is always a star who comes in and makes sure the runway ends up a much better experience.
“It’s Jungkook.” Your manager responds curtly.
“Fuckin’ hell they literally bagged Jungkook?” You scoffed almost, ah— shit. Jungkook has a massive following, of course they would. Even if he’s your ex boyfriend. Of course they fucking would. You pursed your lips, your relationship with him was entirely kept a secret. He’s an idol, worshipped infact— and that ended up for the best when you parted ways. The NDA was perfect. Though you often wondered if the glamour you chose for yourself would ever allow you a fair chance at getting the right partner.
“Eh, Jungkook’s not my type.” Your bestie, the makeup artist Samuel hums, his shoulders shrugging up. “I got my eyes on the heroes.” He winks, adjusting the last finished strands of your hair. The heroes…
“I don’t understand why the heroes are invited to stuff like these.” You roll your eyes. It is weird to think about. He chuffs, “oh come on— they’re just as big of celebrities & events like these are all about glamour and showing off.” He snorts, “Dynamight’s coming, Star and Stripes is coming, a lot of the heroes who are under the top three would be here. Gahh I wonder how Dynamight looks in a suit… dude’s fucking jacked. I’m drooling just thinking about it.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Okay okay, drooling dog. Leave me alone and let me calm my tits before the walk begins.”
Dynamight huh, Katsuki Bakugou. The number one hero of Japan. He is popular enough, you have seen him bag the Calvin Klein’s Times Square ad. Your fingers itched towards your phone, searching up Dynamight on Instagram. There were two accounts. One of them was the official hero account, named Dynamight. The other was— seemingly his personal account, it was named BakugouKatsuki. Both of them were public though. Ah, you will stalk him later. Now isn’t the best time.
You get up, itching in your feet into the pencil heels and stretching your body. Amidst the ruckus, you were given your Victoria’s Secret wings, and your lingerie set. It was beautiful, you’d give them that. They do end up spending and extravagant amount of money for this after all. “Phew, I’m ready.”
There were other models lined up before you, you had been the show-stopper. It’s flamingly obvious not to think much about yourself, but you’d give yourself credit for being one of the top models in the entire industry. You also have a whooping Instagram following, and your socials are always stacked with brand deals. Jungkook was singing Seven, a safe version. You don't want to be delusional and think he chose that song because he wrote it for you, nah, you and him are over for good. Besides, he was in a parasocial relationship with his fans. That's just not your vibe.
You exhaled, engaging your core and coming out finally. It was your turn to go in and leave the crowd in absolute awe. Your time to shine! Yeah, your time to shine. No matter how many shows you have participated in, the feeling before the runway is second to none. You stepped out, peppering flying kisses to the crowd as you passed by Jungkook, catwalking.
You didn't think the first person your eyes would meet would be Bakugou himself, it was eye contact that lasted a few seconds, as you turned around and walked back inside, coming out with the fashion designer and clapping.
"What was that Bakubro?" Red Riot was sitting beside his high school best friend, smirking when he noticed Katsuki caught red-handed. "Didn't you say you have no interest in watching models and this was a waste of time?" He snickers, pulling Katsuki's leg.
Katsuki.... on the other hand, was mesmerized. He had never seen someone so beautiful. Honestly, he wasn't one to keep up with the models and the glamour the industry had to offer. He had a simple routine, focus on training, go patrolling, partake in brand deals, and sleep by 9 pm. This seemed different, especially when the eye contact you both had was so magnetic. What the fuck was happening to him he wondered... why was he behaving like a high school student all over again. Dynamight was in his late twenties now. It's not to say that he hasn't dated people at all, he has, in fact, he has a fair share of girlfriends too. He just wasn't expecting you to latch onto his heart & rip it out of his chest (respectfully).
Maybe he dan divert his mind until after the show. The Victoria's Secret brand had dealings with the Bulgari Hotel in Milan. (Where the show was held), of course, your and Katsuki's suites would be on the same floor. The show was a huge success, you knew it the moment you walked back inside and got jump-hugged by the entire team. They loved your walk, and it made you grin like an appreciated child.
"Finally I can binge." You snickered, getting out after thirty minutes or so from the show. In your head, the eye-contact with the ruby-eyed man was nothing much, merely a coincidence perhaps. You don't know much about Bakugou Katsuki anyway. You do tell your gay best friend about it though, chuckling & giggling at how he loses his mind over it. "I think Dynamight will stay in the same hotel as mine, but before leaving, I can secure an autograph for you if you'd like."
"YOU'D DO THAT?" Samuel is on top of the world when he hears your offer. How nice and kind of you. "I could do that of course!" You smile, he has been great and helpful in calming your nerves before your show. You can do that for him without thinking twice. "Great, thank you so much Y/N! You are a literal gem." He whines, kicking feet in excitement. "Dynamight's known for being intimidating and a no-bullshit guy, so just be...careful." He smiled. You raised a brow at the description, chuckling. Whatever, it's just an autograph. You were sure Samuel was just fangirling.
You walked towards Bakugou and his friend Red Riot, wearing a plain white tee shirt and some shorts. A Prada handbag over your shoulder, Cartier bracelet set on your left arm, and some boots just so you look fine in case you get accidentally papped. "Uh oh, Hottie alert, Hottie alert. She's coming this way Bakugou." Kirishima warns, while Katsuki doesn't turn, smirking. "Maybe she's into you just as much huh?" "Shut up, Kiri. I'm not even into her." What a lie, what a damned lie, because when you tap his shoulder, his entire body shudders.
"Hey- Dynamight, hi!" You smile, watching him turn to face you. Geez, he's tall and big, the blonde doesn't make him look any less intimidating. He has a scar on his eye but it only accentuates his gruff and masculine look. You swallow, "Hey there." Katsuki raises a brow, smirking at you. "Y/N right? The fabulous show stopper." He praises, and you can't help but blush a little.
"Hehe, yeah, thank you so much." You gently tussle through your bag, taking out a notepad. "Can I please get an autograph?" You smile, you wouldn't be one of those cunts who would outrightly say that it's not for you. Why do you need to specify explicitly anyway? "Aww, she's a fan?" Katsuki grins, taking the notepad from you. "Haha!" You don't respond. You don't want to ruin the vibe of the interaction. Unlucky for you, Bakugou is a pest. "So should I write Y/N, or ShowStopper Y/N?" He smirked, uh oh... "You can make two?" You raised a brow, smiling softly. "One for me and one for Samuel, my makeup artist." You smile. "Sure can." He writes the autograph, smirking, "You didn't want an autograph did ya?" Ouch, how did he catch you red-handed so easily? "Hm? Why do you feel so?" You raise a brow, taking the notepad from him. "I'm the number one hero of Japan, Sweetheart. I got my own tricks up my sleeve." He smirked, oh what a charming guy. You wonder why is he infamous for being intimidating then... maybe just his personality and his looks. "I don't mind getting one, honestly, who knows I might become a fan in the future." You smiled back. "Oh yeah? That's gonna make me real fuckin' proud of yer taste, Sweetheart." He grins, and Kirishima has long excused Bakugou and you to chitchat alone.
You chuckled, oh my, he was cocky and yet charming enough to pull it off. Meanwhile, all Bakugou thought was how your eyes are so pretty, and you smile so easily it should be illegal. Your smile makes even the crankiest of people smile. Him included.
"Whatcha doin' after this?" He asks you, raising a brow. Please be free, please be free. "Ah- it's just, my own ritual of unwinding after fashion shows to go and binge on junk food. I am going to this amazing pizza place." You smile, and Bakugou notices your body, you are stunning, but it's clear you need to maintain unrealistic standards for this. "Mind if I join?" He confidently asks, Bakugou Katsuki's confidence ever since he was a child was sky high. He doesn't mind chasing what he wants, he doesn't mind latching on to what he wants. He doesn't mind putting in the work for what he wants. Whether it's the number one hero ranking, or his new ambition - You.
"You can." You perk up, of course, you don't mind that. You wonder if he's asking you on a date or just hanging out with you. "Alright then, let's go?" You ask him again, truth be told you were starving. You need a lot of water down your stomach and also, food. "Lead the way Kitten."
You blink at the nickname, Kitten? "Kitten?" You snorted, why? "Yeah, cus you walk the show like a little lion cub," he smirked, quite assertive behind his reasoning. It makes your heart flutter. "I, see... interesting. Is it something you do? Give people you like, nicknames?" "Yeah, it's a me thing," Katsuki smirked, he loved how you sneakily asked him whether he likes you or not. "I do that to people I hate too though." He teased, biting his lip and smirking at the confused pout. "Not you though, I like ya." He admits upfront. Katsuki doesn't want to play games. It's either he doesn't give a shit, or he's into it dedicatedly.
You gnaw at your lip, walking ahead of him, thank god your back is turned towards him. Else you'd be embarrassed of just how easily he can sway you off your feet. You and him get into the car after, driving to the nearest pizza place. Your knees touch during the car ride, fuck why are you thinking about the slightest of touches Jesus! Neither of you avoid the touch though. "So I'm guessing the pre-walk schedule is pretty ass, huh?" You like that he wants to know about you in a 'I want to get to know you better' sense and not in a 'I want to hook up and leave you after' sense. "Yeah, the last four days I have been dehydrated. I can enjoy in peace now though, before the next show." You nod, looking at him in the eyes, evaluating his expressions. Bakugou looks, conflicted. On one hand, he admires this, on the other hand, he's pissed that this is what gets imposed. He clicks his tongue, "If I were to organize a damn show I'd make sure none of the dehydration shit happens, tch." You chuckle at how intensely he feels about it. It makes you feel validated, makes you feel seen and heard. "Yeah? Maybe you can organize one for your merch." You winked.
"Fuckin' Brilliant aren'tcha?" Katsuki exclaims, grinning wide. He would, and you'd be the show stopper, and it would be a statement towards normalizing human bodies. It sounds so perfect in his head, he would definitely bother his Assistant about this later.
When you both reached the Pizza place, Bakugou gets your door, smirking when you are almost shocked by it. "What? The least ya can do is expect a Hero to be chivalrous, ye?" You giggle, holding his hand, noticing the sheer difference in your hands versus his. Your hands are soft, meek, delicate, having their own hand care routine. His hands are smooth, a little moist due to sweat which you think doesn't bother him. It doesn't bother you either honestly. Plus, he smells amazing... almost in a way that could make you dizzy from it all.
"Um, what should I call you? Dynamight? Bakugou? Katsuki? Japanese people prefer to be called by their last name until they explicitly give permission, no?" You have done a few shows in Japan and know a thing or two about their culture. Bakugou only smirks harder, holding your hand & caressing it with the pad of his thumb, he leans it up to show you. "If I'm holdin' yer hand, I'd prefer to be called Katsuki, Sweetheart." "Y-Yeah, right." You are flustered. The way he looks at you is so intense and yet calming. This man is almost paradoxical.
You both get inside, taking one of the cozy booths of the restaurant. The vibe of the place is luxurious, Grenadil, African Blackwood, lamps which are delicately hand-carved. The place speaks Old-Money.
Bakugou takes a seat next to you, handing you the laminated menu with exquisite handwritten Calligraphy, "There ya go." He smirks. You notice the menu he has given you has no prices on the dishes. He has his own menu. "Uh, they have no money imprinted, are you sure this menu is okay?" This is your first time seeing this. "Yeah, s' okay. S' cus y'er not supposed to be worrying about the price of the dishes." He says it rather assertively. "The man should." He shows his menu. Oh- Of course, for a place this extra, they would have some new ritual like this for all the trophy-wives. "Katsuki- no- I'd feel guilty." You pouted. "Yeah? Yer gonna feel guilty for it bein' my job to spoil ya? On a date? Our first date?" All of a sudden, every doubt in your mind is faded. Things were escalating so quickly yet, you feel like you know this man for years, how bizarre, how comforting, how amazing! The way your heart breaks into little palpitations of excitement is second to none.
You looked down, a hue of red creeping into your cheeks. ''Gah would ya look at that!" Bakugou points at your flustered expression instantly. "She's the prettiest baddest Queen in this world, and I got her feelin' cutesy and feminine, ye?" Yes, yes it has... it's always the little things after all. You chuckle, looking up at him, extending your hand over the table so he could hold it. "You smell amazing, Katsuki." You compliment him too.
Honestly, you have never felt someone smelling this amazing as Bakugou. "Yeah? Part of my charm." He croons in his gravelly voice, the tip of his tongue brushing his upper teeth in a mischievous grin. "S' a part of my quirk." He admits, leaning back and manspreading a little. Your heart feels like it would jump out of your chest at that, you swallow the thick lump of saliva. "Yeah?" "Yeah, that's right Sweetheart." Bakugou hums again, kissing your knuckle. "What about you, have any quirks?" "Unfortunately, nope." You chuckle, a little embarrassed. You know if this man is the number one hero of Japan, he must have a formidable quirk after all. "Aw, she's my little quirkless rarity gem ain't she?" "Yeah."
Katsuki's words were healing something within you that you didn't know was broken. You were feeling all sorts of things, slightly aghast at how easily your senses feel dizzy around the true embodiment of masculinity. A little merry on how you don't have to think about anything and let him take care of you. You needed this after the tough show you've had. You ordered a pizza, and some drinks with it. "So, what next?" You don't want to get too ahead of yourself either. Maybe all this could fade the moment you both sleep together.
"Next, we go on another date, then another, then another. In between those dates, I'll steal a kiss or two." He grins. Making you chuckle, how old school... "That's all you will steal?" You ask him, quite upfront on your own this time. "Mm~ I can't be too greedy or I might make a certain Kitten uncomfortable." He winks.
"Would I make a certain hero uncomfortable if I stole more than a kiss?" You smirk, watching Bakugou grin in surprise. "Nah, the hero wants what his Princess wants." He admits shamelessly.
The dinner goes by in a haze, Bakugou asks you about your family, how many people are there in your nuclear family, you ask him, a little bit of what and hows about starting a career. You get to know he's a Taurus, and his MBTI Type is ENTJ, his Enneagram is 8w7. No wonder he is so steadfast and determined. The dinner ended with you two getting back to go to the same hotel, walking and chit-chatting through your lives, how a daily routine in your lives looks like, favourite coffee order, favourite animals, favourite bands, favourite brands, favourite foods.... until Bakugou was in front of your suite.
"Uhm, goodnight Katsuki." You smile, getting on your tippy toes and kissing his lips softly. A burning sensation ripples through your nerves instantly. Oh no- now you can't stop. Now he can't stop. There is an unsaid desperation in the way you & him deepen the kiss, a relief washing over you as the suite's door gets unlocked with a beeping sound of your card against the sensor.
You jump on him immediately, cupping his face, scratching his undercut, rabid pants echoing through the room as you lean back to catch a breath. "Wildin' aren't we?" Bakugou smirked, leaning you against the wall with his hand supporting the back of your head as he kissed you more, fuck you have awakened something carnal within him. "Yeah- yeah-" You manage to choke on your breaths as he dives against your neck, nibbling at the supple skin, licking the tender ache. "Katsuki- please-" You want more. Especially now when you can feel his semi nudged against your heat. You want it so bad, you didn't even know him a few hours ago... and now here you were.
"Yeah? Are ya sure?" He asks, seriously. He doesn't need this to be hurried. "Yeah, I'm sure."
And that was all Bakugou needed, his lips smashing against you once more, tongue exploring your mouth, colliding against yours, his mouth wrapping around your tongue and suckling nastily. Katsuki leans back, a string of saliva connecting your lips and his. He supports you by your booty, hands kneading the area on your clothed shorts as he manspreads on the couch, watching how you straddle him. You take off your shirt on your own, and unhook your tee shirt bra next. Before you can switch to your shorts, Katsuki removes his own shirt. Oh my god-
He is jacked, and there are battle scars all over his body. Your hand leans in, absentmindedly tracing one of them. You could only imagine how dangerous it must be, how dangerous his line of work is. Everyday he keeps his life on the line to protect people like you - to protect those who can't fend for themselves. Your eyes softened, and Bakugou notices you lean into the duvet of your thoughts. "Hey, they're from years ago." He smirked, kissing your cheek. "Literal years, when I was Baby Dynamight." He chuckled, lightening up your mood instantly. He leans in, hands kneading and groping at your now perky breasts and tits. "She's fuckin' stunning god damn." He cusses under his breath, eagerly wrapping his tongue around one of the nipples, while his fingers pinched and played around with the other. The sensation sends waves of pleasure down your core, it aches so deliciously good. You lean your head back, gasping out at the welcomed assault on your body. This was beyond perfect. "Katsuki-" You mumbled, just chanting his name as he switches to the other nipple, his hand caressing your sides, knuckles caressing the temples of your cheek. "Mhm~ so perfect, Princess."
Every action only makes you dive deeper into a space you've never dived on before. His fingers skilfully unbutton your shorts next, peeling off your panties. "Let's check what's the situation." He smirks, though his ruby eyes are steeled on your face. Massive hands cupping your bare pussy, you can feel your essence coat his palm, but you're not shy anymore. You want him to know he does this to you. You want him to be aware of the effect he has on you. "Fuckin' soaking." He smirked, middle finger and ring finger parting your entrance while his middle finger nudged against your tight hole. The tip pierces inside your pussy almost instantly. "Oh perfect little thing." He snickers, curling it just the right way to make your eyes roll back. "Yeah baby, keep makin' that pretty face f'me." He groans, leaning in and latching onto your sensitive tits again. "Not sorry bout it in the least, need to mark ya." He groans, suckling against your skin, marking your breasts in hickeys while he drills his finger inside your cunt. The pleasure has you reeling soon, eyes rolling back. "Katsuki- please-" you buck your hips against him helplessly, pussy twitching and fluttering shamelessly. "Yeah baby? Gonna cum?" He croons, smirking at the way your body gets littered in goosebumps. "Mhm~ Yeah." You nodded like a bobble head, the pleasure reaching new heights. "Gonna make a mess on Daddy's fingers?" he asks again, almost edging you. The new nickname has you clamping tightly as a reaction, Bakugou chuckles. "Then cum."
Your entire body shivers at the assault, his thumb finding it's way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles around the bundle of nerves, watching you tweak and tremble. "Atta girl! Good job little one." He smirked, quickly changing your position to laying on the couch with him hovering over you. His hand never leaves your clit, pulling out a long and tiring orgasm as his massive cock greets you. Before you could say anything before you could protest in whines that his massive, veiny cock could never fit inside you. It could break you- his cock fills you up instantly.
You see white, your senses are torn apart. The pain surges through your body like venom, filled with excruciating amounts of pleasure. You scream out, cunt almost ripped open despite being so wet and so lubed. "Kah- AH- t'suki-" You are broken, this is exactly how you expected it to feel like. Still, you want him to move, you want him to make you feel better. You want him to show you how it feels when he's pistoning this inside and out, when he's ruining your insides his shape.
Bakugou leans in, caressing your face and peppering it with soft kisses. "Yeah Princess, you did it." He praises, and you couldn't help but rut your hips against him at the praise. You need him. "Uh huh? Wan' Daddy to take care of you?" He smirked at that, relishing your shameless movements, his cock jams against your pussy, fervour akin to an animal in a rut. You feel so good he can't help but want more either, thrusts powerful enough to cause your breasts to jiggle from the impact. "Atta girl, look at you, taking me like yer made for me." he groans, watching your fucked out expressions, listening to your melodious cries that only make him push you further. "Kah- Mm!"
His hand caresses your clit, pinching at the sensitive bundle of nerves, tap-slapping it, caressing it, playing with it. Every movement sends you reeling towards the peak of pleasure. It's not too long before you feel like cumming again, a familiar knot building in your pelvis, eager to snap. "Gonna fill ya up, yeah? Need your insides to know who knocked em up' need yer pussy to know who fucked her up, who stretched her up, who ripped her up to his shape-" The way he speaks is making you spiral, your mouth falls agape as another orgasm tears through you. Helplessly wailing and letting your pussy flutter around his muscular and veiny cock. His own release comes with it, hot and thick seed painting your insides his.
You're panting like you've just run a marathon, Bakugou's sweat only making your senses hazy with its sweet, caramel scent.
"Got one more in ya?" Bakugou asks with a smirk, watching your eyes widen. You are thinking, you are contemplating. "N-never did it before." You answered honestly. "Good, then it's my princess' first time." He smirked, manhandling you to bend over the couch's arm rest, letting your legs nudge together. "Get on yer tippy toes Kitten." he kneads at your ass, spanking it once just to test the waters.
The whore-ish moan that comes out of your mouth at that only makes him more amazed. "She likes spankings huh?" He smirks, slapping on the other side and watching his hand print cover almost your whole ass cheek. "Fuck-" He hissed at the sight, watching you get on your tippy toes as he pierces your cum-dripping pussy once again. Your stomach is already pressed by the arm-rest. The position is enough to make you see stars, you can't form words. Just mewling and moaning with mouth open. His thrusts are a lot precise, a lot sharper, a lot more calculated and a lot more rough.
The force of his pelvis colliding against your ass feels like spankings in itself, your womb is crying at the feeling, your cunt squelching and making lewd noises that echo like music to his ears, just perfectly entwined with your loud moans. "Fuck- you are bloody gonna have me addicted to this shit." He groans, sounds of pap- pap- paps filling the room.
You feel weird, you feel like you could pee from the pressure alone. "Katsuki- feel like gonna squirt." You whine, embarrassed. "Aw, it's okay, do it." He hums, hand wrapping around your hair and tilting your head back for a passionate kiss.
And so you let go, you don't have any choice anyway with his thrusts ripping your pussy. "Fuck- fuck-" and so you end up squirting, the liquid dripping down your thighs as you cum your brains out. Katsuki tips off the edge at the sight too, oh what a lovely mess indeed. "Oh that's fuckin' incredible" He chuckles, slowing his thrusts to a stop.
You are floating in subspace already. You can't believe the hero you were going to stalk on Instagram has your insides bred, twice. Katsuki carries you princess-way and takes you to the bedroom, "gonna get ya some water, you were so amazin' holy shit Princess." he chuckles, peppering your face with soft, feather-like kisses. You only hum and groan in response, he literally fucked your brain into mush.
He returned with some water and added electrolytes that he found in the fridge to ensure better hydration. "Come on, champ, c'mere." He cradles you on his lap like a baby - his baby to be precise. He held the glass for you, letting you drink from the straw while his other hand is busy petting your body soothingly, your arms, your hair, your back.
"Do you want to sign an NDA? If we're gonna be a thing?" You asked him, genuinely curious, but it upsets him that this is the first thing that you say. This industry really is disgusting. "Nah, I'd like you to sign an NBA."
You raised a brow, what does that mean? "Mm?"
"Non-Breakup Agreement" He chuckled, watching you giggle too as he leaned in and kissed your lips.
985 notes · View notes
meleeyz · 1 month ago
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┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗙𝗜𝗧𝗦 ꒱
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader
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୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled
୨୧ It's the first oneshot I've written here and in English, enjoy and let me know your opinion ;)
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Ekko’s workshop was always buzzing with a quiet, electric energy, a space where ideas sparked as easily as bolts from his tools. Today, though, the hum of his work seemed charged with something more, something new.
You were perched comfortably on his worktable, your gaze fixed on him as he knelt beside his half-dismantled hoverboard, hands busy replacing a cracked circuit. You’d shown up in a new outfit, something more “work-appropriate,” as Zeri had put it. She’d insisted on it, practically yanking you to her favorite underground tailor that morning, saying you needed “a proper look if you’re gonna hang around the Firelights.”
The end result, strangely enough, looked like it could’ve been handpicked from Ekko’s own wardrobe—a mix of utility and edge, sturdy but stylish enough to blend in with Zaun’s streets. Though it was obvious that Zeri had chosen the style, the whole look had an uncanny resemblance to Ekko’s own favorite fit, down to the last detail. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d done it on purpose.
Maybe he wasn’t as subtle about his hints as he thought he’d been.
You noticed him watching you, his brown eyes lingering a moment longer than he probably meant them to. You fought back a small smile and threw a comment his way, something light and sarcastic about the “coincidental” matching outfits, pretending not to see the faint flush that rose to his cheeks in response.
“Zeri did say it was supposed to be work-appropriate,” you said, crossing your arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “But I didn’t think she meant this close to the Firelights’ dress code. You got a hand in that, Ekko?”
He looked up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, though he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he returned to his work, tugging at a stubborn bolt and muttering something unintelligible about “stupid circuitry.” But you noticed the twitch in his lips, the way he was holding back. As he worked, you found your gaze drifting over his features. The concentrated furrow of his brow, the way his hands moved with practiced ease, the quiet intensity that settled over him whenever he was focused on a task—it was captivating in a way you hadn’t quite expected.
Ekko could feel your eyes on him, too, and the idea that you were watching him—really watching him—sent an electric thrill down his spine. He didn’t want to say anything and risk breaking the moment, but it made his hands feel almost clumsy as he tried to focus on the hoverboard.
“Enjoying the view?” he teased, raising an eyebrow without looking up. His voice was casual, but he was anything but.
Caught off guard, you huffed and rolled your eyes, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.
“Not really. I was just wondering how long it would take you to fix a single circuit board.”
Ekko laughed under his breath, stealing a quick glance up at you.
“Good one,” he said, tightening the last bolt with a playful shake of his head. “You might look the part, but I think you still got a ways to go before you understand how delicate this stuff actually is.”
“Oh, I understand delicate,” you replied, leaning forward with a slight smirk. “I just thought you were faster than this, Little Man.”
At that, he finally set down his tools, crossing his arms as he straightened up and fixed you with a challenging gaze. “Careful with that nickname,” he warned, though his tone was light. “Only certain people get away with that.”
You raised an eyebrow, shrugging as if it were no big deal, but you couldn’t hide the amusement in your eyes.
“Good thing I’m not just ‘certain people,’ huh?”
A brief silence settled over the room, and the air thick.. Ekko glanced down at your matching outfits, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t resist saying it now.
“Guess we look pretty good together, don’t we?” he mused, looking back at you with a glint in his eye. He tilted his head, inspecting the outfit with mock seriousness. “I mean, not that I had anything to do with it or anything…”
You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling you.
“Uh-huh. Right. Because I just happened to show up looking like your twin by pure chance.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault if you’ve got good taste,” he shot back, raising his hands in defense. But there was a glimmer in his eyes that gave him away, the faintest hint of guilt wrapped in a smile. He shifted under your gaze, hands back at the hoverboard, suddenly finding the bolts extremely interesting.
“Ekko,” you said, leaning forward with a grin. “Just admit it—you told Zeri, didn’t you?”
He bit his lip, trying to hide the grin that threatened to break free.
“What? No. Me? Tell her to match you with me? Why would I… I mean, I don’t need to do that, obviously. I just… maybe gave her a few hints, that’s all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.
You tilted your head, your expression amused but curious.
“A few hints?”
“Alright, maybe more than a few,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “I may have… strongly suggested that she’d do me a solid. Told her you needed something sturdy, something that says ‘ready for action.’”
“And something that conveniently matches your look?”
“Hey,” he said, flashing a grin, “it’s all part of team spirit, right?”
You laughed, and the sound filled the small workshop, bringing a warmth that had little to do with the stuffy, cramped room. Ekko looked at you, his face softening as he watched the way the corners of your mouth lifted, the easy way you teased him. In that moment, he felt a surge of pride mixed with something he couldn’t quite put into words.
The tension between you shifted, settling into something quieter, more comfortable. He hesitated, caught between the impulse to say more and the safety of holding back. But he found himself taking a small step closer, his eyes serious now as they met yours.
“You know,” he said softly, the bravado slipping from his voice, “I just… thought you’d look cool. Like you belonged here. Not that you need clothes for that or anything,” he added quickly, fumbling over his words, “but… it helps.”
For a brief moment, you forgot how to speak, his words catching you off guard in a way that left you momentarily stunned. When you finally found your voice, it was softer, more genuine.
“Well, I guess I should thank you, then,” you said, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “I could get used to this look. Guess I owe Zeri, too.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but the laughter quickly faded into a thoughtful silence. He looked down, suddenly unsure of himself, as if he hadn’t just been wearing a confident smile a moment before.
“You know, I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly. “I don’t say it much, but… it’s cool having someone like you around.”
The words hung in the air, raw and honest, laced with all the things he hadn’t yet dared to put into words. You felt your heart skip a beat, your usual sarcasm and wit replaced by something softer, something fragile.
Before you could respond, he tapped the board, testing its balance with a nudge.
“Alright, give me a hand with this?” he asked, a little too quickly, holding it out towards you. “The stabilizer’s acting up again.”
Grateful for the distraction, you hopped down from the table, moving to stand beside him. You watched as he leaned over the board, pointing out the issue, but you could hardly focus on the gadget. Instead, your gaze wandered, noticing the fine details in his hands, the deftness of his movements, the way his focus was so intense.
Together, you both adjusted the stabilizer, a comfortable silence settling over the workshop, punctuated only by the occasional click and buzz of Ekko’s tools. When he was satisfied, he gave the board a final spin, and it hummed to life, hovering slightly above the ground with a soft glow. He grinned, proud of your combined handiwork.
“Not bad,” he said, his voice warm with pride. He turned to you, his eyes bright. “Almost feels like I’ve got a new partner-in-crime. Think you could handle it?”
You rolled your eyes with a smirk.
“You think I can’t handle a little trouble?”
“Fair point,” he replied, a laugh bubbling out as he nudged your shoulder. He stepped back, reaching out his hand toward you with a grin. “Hop on. You can test it out, see if my handiwork holds up.”
You took his hand and he put his arm around you, playfully saying that you would fall or something, whatever, you didn't really pay attention to him but instead all your concentration was on his hand holding your waist, and with a push you both left the workshop, the tree outside was as beautiful as ever, the cool breeze hitting your face and you could swear there was a strange feeling in your stomach thanks to the height.
Yeah, it was probably the height…
After a few loops, he brought the board to a slow stop, both of you leaning on each other for balance. He stepped off first, offering his hand to help you down.
“Guess it works pretty well,” he said, giving you a satisfied nod. “Must be the matching outfits. Makes everything run smoother.”
“Must be,” you replied, smiling as you gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing.”
His eyes held yours for a moment longer, his expression softening as he considered your words. “Yeah, maybe we should,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
As you climbed the stairs in the tree to re-enter the workshop, you two began to chat calmly again, pretending that everything was exactly the same as before. But now you couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of happiness. Ekko’s touch, his words, and the way he’d gone out of his way to match outfits with you—it all felt like a secret shared only between the two of you.
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bunicate · 9 months ago
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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍. lucifer x fem reader
warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. prbly excessive use of princess/little girl/human. size kink. praise. nipple sucking. fingering. possessive luci. unedited as usual. wc ꒱ 6k ノ 18+
note . . ᘏ⑅ᘏ ノ i dunno if this is even a repost anymore bcuz the original fic was only 2k words :c . . i also thought I wasn’t cwazy abt luci anymore but boy . . wus i wrong. i still luv him dearly. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys. thankuuu ^_^
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lucifer could never understand why humans, beings fettered by something as meaningless as mortality, could possess the ties to control and bind demons.
how such frail bodies of small messes, succumbing to sicknesses, phobias, and other little weirds are able to form pacts with such powerful creatures
it’s a polarizing thought that he’s never challenged or sought to change. he understands them for what they are. arguably worse than demons, and he wants nothing to do with them. they are violent, weak, and fickle, and somehow—in the irony of it all—the universe plays a trick on him.
he lowered his defenses and foolishly got ahead of himself. he was unlike his brothers; he didn’t need love or companionship, and yet, of all the powerful beings and creatures, it’s a human that turned him into something unrecognizable.
it was faceless, sneaking up on him, and he was unable to remedy it as he slowly felt it consume him whole.
a bond was webbed between the two of you, and he’s certain, frighteningly so, that nothing could break it.
granted, that level of trust surely didn’t form overnight, as you proved to be quite troublesome. you were used to peeking your nose where it didn’t belong and going into places mortals should never be, making his job more difficult, but still, he trusts you.
with six younger demon brothers and a human to look after, discord became frequent. secrets wrapped tightly were easily unveiled just from your existence in devildom.
he kept a mental checklist of all your wrongdoings, and now your invasion of his heart was another.
his heart.
nothing but proof of his existence, only meant to pump blood and oxygen, has now expanded far too much to fit within his ribcage. it was suffocating.
it made room for a different kind of love, for someone else, and he didn’t think it was possible. he became spoiled by your affections.
he yearned so much for you that he was convinced that his carnage and sadism might have withered. at least, that's what he thought, only to realize it’s been tucked away in a cavity that you simultaneously filled.
he’s unfortunately reminded that it never really went anywhere. he’s respected and feared by all, and yet it wasn’t enough to deter his brothers from causing any mishaps, especially one in particular.
♡ . . ♡
it’s dinner when lucifer decides to strike.
chatter and the smell of only the best food in devildom fill the room. he almost feels bad for souring the joyful atmosphere—almost, but as always, there's an impending conflict that would render him irritable for the rest of the night.
he sits at the head of the table as the eldest brother and strongest demon, earning everyone's stare from the shift in the atmosphere. you and his brothers could sense that he wasn’t going to make a meager announcement. lucifer moves slowly, careful to prevent any of his heedless anger from slipping through.
he looks at everyone in the room, but his gaze lingers on you a bit longer.
“forgive me for interrupting dinner, but it’s come to my attention that someone here has stolen something valuable of mine.” his voice is deep, stern, and accusing. it echoes in the candle-lit hall.
“my credit card.”
maybe it's his sadistic streak, but he knew asking that question was ultimately trivial. he knows which of his brothers is guilty; you all did.
there’s only one demon dumb and desperate enough to steal from lucifer of all people, and while the perpetrator was obvious, it didn’t make anyone any less anxious.
the avatar of pride is infamous for his punishments, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end. when anything goes amiss, they must answer to him, and you were no exception to that rule.
you point your manicured finger at mammon, and his expression morphs into utter terror. he yelps at your tattling, already plotting at least three different ways to make his escape.
“oh my,” asmo laughs.
belphie yawns obnoxiously, unamused by the series of events. it was just another typical night in the house of lamentation; nothing should surprise anyone, and still, lucifer let a troubled sigh escape.
mammon throws a fit of indignation, as if his culpability wasn’t already obvious.
tossing his hands in the air, he whines, “damn it. why’d ya’ have to tell?” he slides down the seat of the chair, trying to avoid lucifer’s angered stare as much as possible.
you don’t think to reply, almost even rolling your eyes at him. everyone knows it’s him, and like the well-behaved girl you are, you figure it makes no sense to drag out the inevitable.
but when everyone’s eyes settle on you in curiosity, you slouch in your chair and blush at the sudden attention. you feel nervous, like you made a blunder of some sort.
they expectantly await your answer, but you don't have one.
“s-sorry, mammon,” you squeak out.
your hands in between your thighs and fidget under their stares.
you couldn’t, at least not confidently, admit that lucifer has you wrapped around his finger. he expects far too much of you, and you couldn’t possibly ruin that because of mammon, but that didn’t lessen the slight guilt from easing in.
“don’t apologize,” lucifer says, bolstering his voice—his attempt at scolding mammon while reassuring you.
“it’s not up to her to entertain your lies. perhaps if you weren’t always up to no good, she wouldn’t have to confess to your wrongdoings,” he lectures.
he sneers at him, and you watch as the younger demon slinks back further. “you’re the second oldest. act like it.”
mammon huffs.
“ahhh, lucifer, you’re no fun.”
admittedly, the brothers would get away with a lot more if it weren’t for your honesty.
make no mistake, they all love you dearly, but the troublemakers couldn’t tolerate your obedience when it comes to lucifer.
when he asked you who ate all the food satan prepared for breakfast the next day, you didn’t hesitate to say it was beel. when he asks you who wrote ‘lucifer sucks :p’ on his wall, you don’t stutter to inform him of satan’s and belphie’s not-so-secretive plan of his tormentation.
anything he wants, anything he asks, you obey. that was just the nature of your relationship.
after mammon realizes pouting won’t get him out of trouble with lucifer, he goes back to eating, and the others follow suit. soon the lively atmosphere returned, but you felt rather self-conscious.
you looked over at lucifer in the hope of finding something that you're weren't sure of yet, only to see that he was already staring at you. you nibble on your spoon, suddenly feeling bare from his lowered gaze.
there is a sense of security that you crave. his look of approval serves as a reminder of why you’re faithful to him. it was rewarding to know that your loyalty didn’t go unnoticed.
you look away quickly to hide your flusteredness by sipping on your tea, but the sweet taste of earl gray isn’t enough to distract you.
dinner begins to slow and wrap up. one by one, everyone bids their goodbyes. mammon is the first to depart, knowing he’d need as much of a head start as possible. when you finish the remainder of your dinner, you get up to leave as well.
you think about how to spend the rest of your evening, and your mind wanders to cramped thighs and ruined pillows.
you grow heated by the memory of previous nights. you touched yourself too many times to count after constantly witnessing lucifer’s disheveled state after his long day of reprimanding.
you stuffed your cunt with your fingers nightly, trying to mimic the feeling of something much larger. it was difficult to commit such acts quietly in a home full of creatures with nearly perfect hearing, and still, you wonder what fantasy will tether you tonight.
maybe the one when he fucks you in diavolo’s office, or your personal favorite, he punishes you.
you fantasize about him pulling up your dainty dress to put you over his lap and spank your plump ass until cum soaks your thighs, but tonight, you don’t have to conjure up anything.
lucifer stops you in the middle of your daydream. grabbing your wrist gently, he catches you by surprise.
you clumsily turn. frazzled eyes meet unwavering carmines. you’re almost certain he could hear the thump beating between your legs.
the prideful demon pulls you close, forcing your bodies to collide and connect like missing pieces. his breath is warm against your ear.
“would you like to come by my chambers later tonight?”
you look up to search his face, wondering if there’s even a sign of doubt. after countless days and nights and all sorts of muddled feelings between sheets, there is a part of you that can’t truly accept that he sought you.
one of the most eligible bachelors in all of devildom, known for his fearsomeness, is holding you like you were glass, asking for your company.
you soak in his expression, and it’s nothing less than firm and impenetrable, and it's then that you realize it was not a question. he was not asking.
struck with a whirlwind of desire from that revelation, you nod weakly, but the demon only shakes his head in response.
“words, my little human.”
your head tilts on its axis only for a moment. your chest had to be wide open, bearing your insides to him. the effect he had on you must have been that obvious. you’re a puddle.
was it normal to feel the static every time he was around, after every word he spoke?
you feel hazy, but also a small sense of relief that you no longer have to question if he still wants you. you’ve exhausted your fingers and toys, and finally, what you have been needlessly craving would be fulfilled in a room only a few doors down. his gaze flickers to your lips, and they shine with promise.
you mustered up all the courage you had left.
“yes, i would love to come by later.”
you’re amazed that it didn’t come out as wobbly as you anticipated. you’ve gotten better at pretending, you suppose.
lucifer gives you a sweet smile. he’s pleased with your answer, and butterflies erupt in your full belly.
his gloved hand then completely engulfs yours to bring it to his lips. not once breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckle before he departs. a hopeless romantic.
he sets out to find mammon, and that gives you enough time to prepare.
you stalk up the stairs, declining levi’s invitation for a night of competitive gaming pitifully on the way. you’ll make it up to him next time.
by ushering yourself into your room, you act immediately. you don’t spend too long getting ready. a steaming, hot shower would suffice. you wash up with a bar of gentle soap, then follow through with too many to-count spritzes of perfume and faint-smelling lotion.
white with pastel pink trim.
your night clothes are simple and short enough to keep him on his toes. you look over at yourself in the mirror.
when did you become so daring ? you didn’t know. maybe asmo’s tips on charm and seduction were finally rubbing off on you. you wonder what his reaction would be if you told him you were using them on his brother. maybe he already knew.
you turn off your light and open your door. you peek down the hall.
it’s silent and empty, just as you predicted.
quietly, you shut the door, cursing to yourself when you hear the faint cry of the rusty hinges. your trek down to his room was anxiety-inducing, but in a good way. you feel refreshed, your body is more than ready, and you’re excited.
you hoped no one would drop by unexpectedly. beel would most likely wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of lucifer’s room. not that it mattered anyway.
it wasn’t really a secret—not that those lasted with you around—but it would be. . . awkward. you’d much rather not have to deal with anyone overhearing all the naughty things you’ll beg him to do.
you stop your train of thought when you reach the end of the hallway. you’re in front of his door, and you sway from your heels to your tippy toes. the fluttery ache in your chest was making you skittish.
you take a breath to compose yourself, and then you knock with three light taps.
“come in”
it takes a good chunk of your strength to open his heavy door, but you appreciate the time it grants you. it gives you the space to calm yourself down and ease your prickly nerves.
when you enter, you let your eyes wander around the room first. nothing but books, old records, and silhouettes of things you couldn’t make out in the dark. you walk in and find him leaning against his unusually messy desk.
there's soft light from the lamp that hugs his frame and illuminates his coat discarded on the nearby dresser.
he fiddles with the strap of his gloves, giving you a small smile at the sight of your presence.
“you don’t have to knock, my love.”
he allows his gaze to explore, drinking in the outfit you picked out specifically for him. already, his trousers are suffocating and distracting him, but he’s quick to recover.
you bite your lip out of habit under his lustful stare.
“i know, but i wanted to just in case you were busy . . .”
there’s an amused huff.
his long legs carry him over to where you stand swiftly. his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.
“sweet girl.” and the way it skirts the edge of sensuality could make you melt. “even if i am, feel free to steal me away,” he whispers.
you swallow down a moan at the thought. maybe one day he'll eat those words.
his hand trails from your face to the nape of your neck and pauses.
“you washed your hair,” he observes.
you shake your head.
“it got a little wet in the shower so I’m just letting it air dry for a bit, luci.”
you pull at a wet strand and watch it dutifully bounce back in place. “ i was too lazy to dry it.“
he watches the notion with careful eyes. you wanted to giggle at how serious he looked.
“i wish you would’ve asked me to help you. i don’t want you getting a cold.”
you smile at his sincerity. you realized very early on that lucifer enjoyed tending to you. he likes consistency and being depended on.
‘it’s for your own well-being,’ he says, but you think he likes to have a pretty girl to fuss over
you offer him a small pout. “i did think about it, but i assumed you were still scolding mammon. i didn’t want to bother you.”
“besides.” you turn away, “i don’t think he wants to see me right now”
already, you’re embarrassed by the thought of facing mammon again. flustered, you recall tonight’s dinner and the look on their faces. you are definitely going to avoid them at school tomorrow.
you slouch, "he totally hates me.”
you say it half-heartedly, but lucifer looks at you with seriousness.
he softly grabs you by your chin. “don’t speak like that. he doesn’t hate you—none of us do, and i’m not sure we are capable of harboring such thoughts.”
you smile. “i dunno. i’m pretty sure you guys hated my guts when i first came.” you chuckle, thinking he’d at least join in, but he frowns. his heavy hand strokes the top of your head in an affectionate rhythm.
“we had our differences, and i was far too harsh. that i know.”
there’s a faraway look in his eye, and you know there’s a silent storm forming. you reach out to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.
“i never hated you,” he says.
you knew that your actions played a part in straining the early stages of your relationship. you also had to come to terms that not only lucifer, but multiple brothers harbored resentment towards humans,
its not a perfect story, but everything about this was completely unconventional. you’re just a woman who somehow found herself stuck in an attempt at other-worldly diplomacy, now sandwiched between the trying relationships of seven powerful demons.
things are rocky, but it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.
“i was only teasing, luci. i'm not mad or scared anymore.”
the hand you rested on his cheeks gets gripped by his larger ones, and he kisses your palm fondly.
“besides, i think we both know i wasn’t completely innocent.”
he takes a deep inhale.
“still, i think about how things were before.” he recalls the past in disdain; he blames his pride and then himself.
“my brothers and i . . . we are devoted to you, and we have the pacts to prove it.”
it’s a provocation you’re still not entirely used to. you had 7 demons who offered themselves to you, and the proof is imprinted on their skin.
in the human world, you’re everything and nothing at the same time. feelings of loneliness and insecurity that are far too loud and are still not enough to matter. you realized everyone lived selfishly, and your heart wasn’t hardened enough to follow suit.
lucifer's thoughts about humans didn’t change, despite his proximity to you. talks of your life as a young girl only cemented his thinking.
you were far too perfect for humans, too devious for angels, and too innocent for demons.
you were an entity on your own, and scarily he worshiped you. all of you.
he’d never tire of sinking his cock into your wet cunt, filling you with his seed, and hearing those saccharine moans that fall from glossed lips. he was ravenous, but you truly didn’t know the extent of it.
“my brothers care for you deeply, as do i, but you must know.” his eyes seem darker and much more predatory, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. like a bunny trapped in a hunter's cage, your doe eyes double in size and tremors rattle through your frame.
“you’re mine alone. your mind and body belong to only me.”
lucifer is well aware that six other cocks competed for your attention. a crass choice of words, but nothing less than true. they vied for the human girl, with nearly everyone wrapped around her dainty fingers. you are a color in the world shrouded in sisyphean darkness.
his lips part on your skin. “they can touch and taste you because i allow it.”
rough hands pull up your skirt, and he grabs a handful of your ass. “this . . . this is all mine.”
you make sure to turn and give your butt a little wiggle. it's more than a sultry gesture, and lucifer thinks a human so docile posing erotically might be the one thing to kill him.
how do you make soiled underwear look so pretty and enticing? there’s a possessive streak, a soft darkness that opens its curtains upon your presence. it peers over his shoulder, urging him to devour you. to pick at your remains until he’s consumed you.
“you're beautiful,” he groans. he inches close to you, and you think your lips are going to meet halfway, but he kisses your forehead.
then, your eyelids, your nose, and the side of your mouth, you look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he doesn’t budge when you try to squirm.
lucifer steps back and leads you to his chair. he settles into the squeaky leather until his back is comfortably cushioned.
he pats his firm lap.
“come.”
you know he’s holding back. his muscles ripple beneath you, he slouches farther into his chair, his legs spread to give his groin space to freely twitch against the slackness of his pants, and it only invites you
you struggle to decide where to sit. his knee or over his lap, both very promising positions, but he decides for you. he pulls your hip so your cunt is nestled right up against his cock. you sigh breathily, already your brain turning to mush.
“i didn’t even touch you, and you’re already making such a mess, sweet girl.”
the angle you tilt your head hides your expression, but from the flutter of your lashes and the purses of your lips, he knows you’ve grown shy.
"you kissed me,”
your sweet tone and your faint aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine make his cock stir.
“is that why you’re so worked up? just from my kiss?”
not even on the lips—not yet at least, and you’ve already wetted the fabric with your sticky arousal.
“what will happen when daddy touches right here?”
it’s a feathery graze against your protruding bud. his knuckles nudge the seat of the moist cotton, right where the white turned nearly transparent against your swollen cunt.
“it aches, doesn’t it?”
slender fingers slip under the band teasingly. he studies the subtle twitch of your hole, pumping a stream of glossy slick.
“do you want me to make it go away, hm? do you want daddy to make it better?”
you nod, a broken moan falling from your trembling lips.
“ i wantmore daddy.”
you spread your legs wider, hoping he’d be more generous with his caress.
“soon, my love.”
his hands trail from your pants to your stomach to your shoulders.
his hands rub your stomach and under your breast, settling right on your hip. you know he is hyper-aware of the thin fabric separating his cock from your heat.
even in his lap, he’s taller than you, but only by a few inches. his eyes are low and hazy.
“i wish to take my time with you.”
his thumb trails over your nipple.
“you have no idea how much i missed you.”
his other fingers pull at the other nipple.
you’ve felt those same digits on your neck, in your mouth, curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, and now between your thighs
he begins to grope at your exposed flesh. he admires how supple they appear, and he has to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into them.
your body never falters, and it responds so well to his hot and addicting touch. lucifer tries not to tease you; after all, he is rewarding you, but the little sounds and pants that leave your lips almost make him rethink.
your skirt is wrinkled, and he flips it at your hip, and your entire bottom half is almost fully exposed. your bare legs are on display, and so is your clothed mound. he mumbles sweet praises into the side of your breast while tracing the outline of your pussy through your pants with his finger.
you pull him away from your chest to kiss him, and lucifer has to remember that you’re human. that your small and pouty mouth, which struggles to swallow, is as fragile as the rest of you. palms splayed about on your back remind him he can mold you.
his hands are in a constant of motion, tugging and squeezing at your flesh. it feels like he’s in awe of every part of your body no matter how it differs from his. his touches are messy and yet controlled. they search you in subtle restraint, fearful that they’ll hurt you.
you’ve never been touched this way. to have someone want you so desperately— to possess you almost. his hands are burning you and you feel on top of the world.
you moan at his caress and feel heat rush through your body. if it weren’t for the lack of air in his lungs, he’d never pull away but eventually he does. lucifer experimentally probes your clit and looks up at your face to admire your expression.
“do you like that?” he whispers. you bite your lip, and your voice raises in pitch, “mhm.”
lucifer smirks to himself and kisses your nipple. “what did i say about words, little one?”
he stops his ministrations on your cunt and licks at your areola teasingly. he settles the tip of his tongue on your heated bud, flicking it, sending a shiver down your spine.
“is my good girl acting up?.”
“n-no, daddy, never.”
between each breath, he plants open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“i hope so. i would hate to have to punish you.”
he sucks diligently and roughly. his tongue aggressively strokes your nipple, addicted to how it feels in his mouth. he closes his eyes and continues his assault on your chest.
your soft cries filled his room, and the feeling of your teat on the surface of his wet muscles pleased him. the aforementioned headache was long gone because the plushness of your body took over his mind and soul.
you may feel an indescribable urge to obey him, but he's just as much under your spell as you’re under his. he’s the embodiment of pride, but he’s not against admitting that you invade every inch of him. you don’t know it yet, but anything you ask of him, he will deliver. he wonders if you could hear his heart thrumming against his chest.
you’re naked, but he feels equally as exposed.
he continues sucking on one breast, his other hand busied itself, rubbing the neglected one. you arch into his touch, your tit spilling out of his hand. the weight of it feels secure in his large palm.
the stimulation has you unruly within his embrace. one minute, your hips are still from his flicks at your pussy, and then it jerks up, wanting more from his skilled and wandering hands.
lucifer likes this side of you, desperate and unashamed of how you wanted him to use your body.
you’re so sensitive that any subtle movement sends pressure to your clit. every time you whimper, especially loudly, he's quick to praise you.
“such lovely noises. i bet you’d do anything to please me, hm?” he hums.
you remember his earlier warning eager to be on your best behavior. “yes, daddy.”
it was hard to verbalize but you were at his mercy. anything for his approval, anything for his praise, you’d do it, especially if it meant you’d get rewarded like this.
he then pulls up your soaked panties, and you gasp at the sudden gesture. they stretch across the surface of your wet pussy, and they snap from his brute strength. the break in the fabric spanking your cunt.
“what a pretty thing.”
he tosses your ripped panties to the floor, ruining your perfect set. but he’d buy you another.
“i just want to be your good girl,” you say, rubbing your legs together in anticipation.
“you’re always my good girl. isn’t that right?”
you nod and feel happiness bloom.
“the best girl for daddy,” lucifer sensually encourages.
at this rate, you’re dizzy and drunk on his intoxicating words and erotic touch. you’re babbling, and lucifer finds it endearing.
you whine when he finally takes his gloved finger and rubs slow and tight circles on your slippery bud. “dada—.” you cry especially loud.
“i know, i know,” he shushes.
you felt relief consume you at the friction of his gloves on your trembling cunny. he continues to rub and fiddle with it until you’re forced to bury your mewls into the crook of his neck.
he takes another finger and presses down on your twitchy button, and you flinch at the sudden burst of pleasure.
he knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows how to make you fall apart. his finger continues to work on your sensitive nub, and you gradually begin to soak his lap with your arousal.
he drags his fingers over your labia and grazes over your desperate hole.
within a few strokes, he plunges two fingers into your heat. he watches you push your tits into his face from the pleasure that forces the arch in your back. and he takes a deep inhale. your pussy greedily latches onto his fingers, and you’re practically fucking his hand.
“you look so delicious in my lap. such a beautiful sight, and it's reserved for only me.”
the depth of his voice sends shudders through your body
he loved how his fingers slid right in. it felt like your pussy was made to take what he gave you. his big fingers fervently stroke your insides, and your legs shake.
just watching your tiny hole stretch to the width of his fingers threatened his self-control. he wanted to fill you with something much bigger, and he’d know you would take it because you're his precious girl.
he wants to see your cunt wrapped around his heavy cock, but he’d settle for now.
just seeing you so pliant in his arms from his tongue lapping at your breast and his large fingers was enough for him.
you drip all over his wrist, and it darkens his gloves.
lucifer’s fingers rub every soft ridge, and your cunt is more than happy for it. the wetness, the squelch, the tightness—it’s overwhelming for you. you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.
"i'm going to cum, daddy. please." you don’t know what you're begging for, but whatever he was willing to do, you needed it now.
lucifer knows you’re close—very close. you’ve nearly gone stiff, and you’re shaking against him. your toes are curled, and your first is clutched.
“oh, is this princess’ pussy going to make a mess?” he coaxes. you open your mouth, moaning, and lucifer leans down. your foreheads are touching, and you unabashedly mewl, your minty breath fanning his face. “is she going to cream for me?”
you feel your orgasm sneaking up on you. lucifer only increases the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunny. he becomes more brutal, only wanting you to be within his arms as his only goal.
he’s so close to you that your lashes touch his skin. sweat simmers on your chest, and he sucks on your now bruised bottom lip from all your biting.
with two fingers still buried inside you, stroking your walls, he presses his thumb to your clit once more.
“that’s it, it’s pretty girl.”
you felt it coming; you had ample time, and you tried to keep yourself contained, but the force was still too unbearable. you had no idea how much he was holding back.
“i’m so much bigger than you. so much stronger, and you’re so little, princess.” he chuckles in a state of disbelief.
“and you’re not even scared.”
“you’re too trusting, but i suppose that’s why i love you so much. daddy’s brave little girl.”
like a lick of lightning, lucifer feels his desire threaten to snap. his human—his sweet mess full of little weirds, kind eyes, and a soft mouth was going to make him lose himself. he's growling like a beast with every chant of his name.
“daddydaddydaddy —hiccup— love you lots, b-but. i-i can’t think anymore. can’t take it.”
drool collects on the side of your mouth.
“i know it’s a lot for you right now, but you’re doing so well, princess.”
he re-adjusts your body on his lap. “just think about daddy and his fingers.”
the appendages stretching your cunt pull out briefly.
“look at that precious pussy.”
he spreads your labia watching the uneasy throb of your hole that begged to be stuffed.
lucifer wants to mount you, but he remembers what he is when he can smell the blood pumping through veins and the feeling of your heartbeat under the tips of his fingers.
he needs to treat you like a prized dolly to dress up, to kiss, and to fuck.
you don’t need to think; he knows what’s best, and he wants to keep you on a shelf for his own use.
you made him a beast, luring him into darkness, but he was never good at hiding. he felt like he was defiling you. you were truly an entity different from anything he’s ever known. sweet as brown sugar, and he’s tainting you.
still, the thrust of his arms grows stronger. nothing but the milky, wet sounds of your drenched cunt
“your little pussy is crying. you can let go for me.”
your hearts swell with another wave of heat. the sweet babbles of you wanting to reciprocate his love die on your tongue when your body stills. you toss your head back with a pretty wail nearing your crescendo. noisily, his fingers pump your pussy with trickles of wetness spurting out.
your hips jolt forward and erratically hump the heel of his palm, hoping to reach your end much sooner.
“m right there, —!”
he's going to make you cum hard. everything from the sound of his voice to his rough fingers to the shape of his cock could make you cream. his skill never fails you, always leaving you nearly boneless. you’re always going to come crawling back for more, without a doubt.
lucifer feels your walls pulsate around him, warning him of your impending orgasm, and it strokes his ego.
“daddyyyy,” you pant deliriously. his thumb drags at your clit repeatedly and with the sensation of your insides being drained, you sob. you’re too loud, but you can't remain silent any longer.
lucifer kisses your forehead to soothe you, and with a slight pinch of your throbbing cunt, you erupt in the middle of his embrace. the dam finally breaks, and your pussy convulses angrily like it's trying to push his fingers out.
“thaaaaat’s it, baby. daddy is so proud of you.”
he increases his pace, draining you of all the cum your cunny could pump out. until your knees buckle around his wrists.
your chest expands, desperate for more air. your head is fogging up, and you’re exhausted. your limbs are strewn across the demon, lacking complete strength.
lucifer lets you cool off from your high, and he slips his fingers out of you. without hesitation, he buries them into his mouth. the taste of you fills his taste buds to utter satisfaction. you're delicious, sweet and sour, and addicting. he would inject the very essence of you into his veins if he could. but maybe he's already hooked on you; that would explain his racing mind filled with thoughts of only you.
this demon that he’s become terrifies him, but he doesn't want to change. his family and his precious human are all he needs.
he wraps you up in his arms and hugs you. your back is now pressed into his chest, eyes closed blissfully. lucifer tucks your head under his chin, and you rest safely in his hold.
he silently admires the number he did on your body and feels the familiar feeling of pride bursts within him. he looks at your beautiful face, your puffy nipples, and used pussy and he feels gratified fulfillment engulf him.
“perfect human,” he mumbles.
he graces you with another kiss on your heated skin.
“my obedient little girl.”
2K notes · View notes
mynicosensesaretingling · 2 months ago
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When the Snow Falls
a Lando Norris x reader story
Request: Can you write me Christmas market date with Lando including first kiss? 🙏🏼Childhood friends to lovers, I always got dragged to karting racing by my dad and that's how we know each other.
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Warnings: none , written in my notes app
Note: I guess I am officially kicking off the christmas season with this one. It’s my first time writing for Lando but I most certainly hope you enjoy it <3
——
The year was slowly but surely coming to an end, with Christmas just around the corner you found yourself on your way to your first Christmas market visit of the season. For as long as you could remember, Christmas markets had always been your favorite part of the holidays, and this year, it felt even more special—because you were going with Lando.
You’d known Lando Norris practically forever. Your dad had dragged you along to karting races when you were both kids, and you’d quickly bonded over the long hours at the track. Back then, you didn’t care much for racing, but you did like hanging out with him. Already as a child, Lando had managed to make everything fun—whether he was sneaking you snacks from the paddock or teasing you about how bored you looked while your dad obsessively watched the races.
Even years later, when Lando’s career took off and he became a Formula 1 driver, things between you didn’t change. Sure, he got more famous, busier, and a lot harder to keep up with, but whenever you saw him, it was like nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing.
Lately, things had been… different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something between you had shifted. There were moments now where he looked at you just a little too long, where his jokes seemed to hold a new kind of meaning or where his hand lingered on your shoulder, sending chills up your spine. You’d always been close, but lately, you found yourself thinking about him in a way that friends shouldn’t—like the way his smile would make your heart swell with joy or how the sound of his voice made your chest tighten just a little.
And now here you were, approaching the Christmas market bundled up in your favourite scarf and a thick coat, with snow lightly falling around you. Letting your eyes wander over the scene in front of you, you could easily tell that the market was packed, the sound of music was mixing with the lively chatter of the people, various colourful lights were twinkling overhead and the winter breeze carried the smell of seasonal treats and mulled wine. The whole place looked like something out of a Christmas movie.
You spotted Lando waiting for you near the entrance, hands shoved in his pockets, his breath fogging in the cold air and snow flakes adorning his wild curls. When his searching gaze found you, his face lit up with a grin that sent warmth all the way to your toes—despite the freezing weather.
“About time!” Lando called out with a teasing smile. “I was starting to think you ditched me for someone more fun.”
“Like who?” you shot back, chuckling as you walked up to him. “I’m only here for the free hot chocolate.”
“Harsh,” he said with a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “But understandable.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. That was the thing about Lando—he made everything easy. With him, you didn’t have to try too hard to be funny or smart or interesting. He just got you. Always had.
Lando bumped his shoulder lightly against yours, a playful spark in his eyes. “Come on then, let's see what else we can find to complain about.” he teased. But his words held a warmth that wrapped around you like the winter chill never could. You knew he wasn’t just talking about the market—it was his way of reminding you how comfortable everything felt when it was the two of you.
As you linked arms and wandered into the market, the festive lights twinkling overhead, you felt that familiar feeling of comfort settle over you, the kind that only ever seemed to come when you were with Lando. Despite everything—the years, the fame, the distance—it still felt like it was just the two of you against the world, like it had always been.
“So,” Lando said as you passed a stall selling Christmas ornaments, his breath visible in the cold air. “You still remember how much you hated coming to the karting track back in the day?”
You laughed, gently shaking your head at the unexpected throwback. “I didn’t *hate* it. I just wasn’t obsessed with it like you were.”
“Liar,” Lando teased, nudging you playfully. “You looked absolutely miserable every time I saw you.”
“Yeah, because my dad was way more invested than I was,” you shot back with a grin. “But you made it bearable. I could always count on you offering me an escape from the racing madness.”
He smiled softly at that, and for a second, the teasing glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by something else—something that made your heart skip a beat. “Well, you were mine too, you know. It wasn’t all about the karting.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a brief moment, the bustling market seemed to fade around you. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Lando pointed toward a stall up ahead. “Come on, let’s get you that hot chocolate you came here for in the first place.”
You followed him through the crowd, the energy of the market buzzing around you, but your thoughts kept circling back to that look in his eyes. There had been something different about it—something that made the air feel just a little heavier between you.
Whilst you had been lost in thought Lando had bought two steaming cups of hot chocolate and you only found yourself snapping back to reality when the driver carefully handed one to you. “Here. This should keep you from freezing to death.”
You took it gratefully, cradling it between both of your hands, a satisfied hum leaving your lips when you felt the warmth seeping through your skin . “You’re the best.”
“I know,” Lando said with a cocky grin, but there was a softness in his tone that made your heart flutter.
As the two of you wandered deeper into the market, sipping your hot chocolate and chatting about everything and nothing, the playful banter flowed naturally. It always did with Lando. But even between all the sarcastic comments and dry jokes you could feel something unspoken hanging in the air between you, a tension that had been building for months.
The festive stalls blurred together as you walked, but then something caught your eye. You stopped in front of a small wooden stall, the soft green of mistletoe sprigs hanging from the awning, each tied with delicate red ribbons. You stared at them for a moment longer than you meant to, your stomach doing a little flip as the realization of what mistletoe symbolized hit you.
“You know what they say about mistletoe…” Lando said, his voice suddenly becoming a little quieter, a little softer. He was standing close—closer than usual—and when you looked up, his eyes were fixed on you, not the mistletoe.
Your breath caught, heart racing as you noticed the change in the air between you. Trying to steady yourself, you gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what exactly do they say?”
He took a moment to reply, his gaze still locked on yours. “Apparently, you’re supposed to kiss under it.”
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The noise of the market, the lights, the people—it all faded into the background. It was just you and Lando, standing there in the middle of the market, the snow falling softly around you.
Your senses where overwhelmed with how close he was now—so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, could see the soft, nervous flicker in his eyes. For a split second, you thought about backing away, about brushing it off with a joke like you always did.
But you didn’t. Instead, you stepped forward, almost closing the space between you. “I guess we should follow tradition then,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the market.
Lando’s eyes flickered to your lips, the desire in his eyes as clear as day before all of sudden his lips found yours. It was soft and tentative at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hands gently cupped your face, pulling you closer as the years of secret longing were finally revealed in his every touch.
When you finally broke apart, breathless and a little dazed, Lando was smiling that familiar smile, the one that never failed to make your heart race. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” he admitted, his voice low and a little nervous.
You smiled back, your heart still hammering loudly in your chest. “Me too.”
Lando let out a breath of relief, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d never work up the nerve.”
His confession coaxed a soft laugh from your lips, your hands resting on his chest. “You, nervous? That’s a first.”
“Only with you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper and eyes holding his heart. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead before readjusting and pulling you into a warm embrace. “I guess we’re not just childhood friends anymore, huh?”
“Guess not,” you whispered back, not trusting your voice as a feeling of warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate or the twinkling lights above.
And as the snow continued to fall gently around you, you remained in Lando’s embrace, your head resting against his chest as you found comfort in the rhythm of his heartbeat. Your eyes followed the sparkling snowflakes and the world around you seemed to slow. With his arms wrapped securely around you, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, like all the chaos and uncertainty that had been swirling in your life had finally come to a halt. You couldn’t help but contently hum as you felt like everything was finally falling into place. The way you fit against him, the warmth you shared despite the cold, and the quiet peace between you told you everything you needed to know.
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cressidagrey · 6 months ago
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Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 4
Summary: 
Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.
Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.
Warnings: 
ANGST, very bad self image, some sort of non graphic self-harm (if you squint), Rhys is kinda an asshole, vomiting
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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There wasn’t so much as a scratch on his son. 
Not a hair on his head was harmed. 
Nothing. 
Feyre cleaned him with shaky hands, running a rag wet with warm water over his skin. Nyx was babbling in response, shaken but clearly…alright. 
Nyx. His son. 
The sudden weight that was lifted off Rhys' shoulders, as he crossed the room in three long strides...it felt like he could breathe again…as he pressed a kiss to Nyx’s head breathing in that scent that was unmistakenly his and then doing the same with Feyre. 
Her scent was thick with misery, shaking against him…Lilac and Pears, usually so perfect...
“Eira’s blood is all over him,” Feyre whispered. “I’ll wipe it off and I just find more.” 
Elain was sitting across from them, silently drinking tea, eyes concentrating on something far away. He wondered if she saw anything…any vision at all? But she didn't say anything. 
Feyre hung onto his hand and he cast out his mind, feeling Madja’s determination, as she…she tried to…
Save her. 
Save her from dying because she had thrown her own body between death and his son. 
For years, Rhys had believed the second-born Archeron sister to be... 
She had just been there. 
Existed in his periphery. 
She had been the only one who had at least tried to make Feyre’s life easier, the one who had cooked and cleaned and hacked up wood and washed the blood out of Feyre’s clothing and mended it when she had taken a tumble…Eira had at least tried. He still didn’t think that it had been enough but she had that going for her. 
Privately, Rhys had thought that the only thing that was fierce about Eira Archeron was her ability to love. 
The one and only time she had outright argued with any of them… had been about her sister… about Nesta and their intervention. 
She had argued harshly and fiercely about how they had no right to do this, about how it wasn’t fair…about how she would pay back that money if it meant that they would leave Nesta in peace. 
It had not only surprised him but also Amren and even Feyre…and even when they hadn’t listened to her…
It didn’t matter what Nesta threw at her head, her sister was still there every week, waiting for him to bring her up to the House of Wind. 
Every week. Like a clockwork, she had been there. 
Rhys easily admitted that he hadn’t been particularly understanding to her at that time.
And now, that ability to love had been…it was going to be the one thing killing her, wouldn’t it?
He hadn’t said it. He had only said that it looked bad…but he could feel how Madja was slowly reaching the limits of what she could do for her. 
Everything that was…
Eira Archeron, the one cauldron-born sister with no great ability. The one that had seemingly adapted well enough to being fae…never complained, never said anything. If she had suffered, she had done so silently. 
The quiet one, the one that liked the background…the one that had pined away silently over his brother, when her twin sister had been the object of his desires. 
Rhys had half expected that to end in a brawl, but once again…Eira hadn’t…nothing had been said. She had been willing to silently pine away.  
And then the mating bond had snapped for Az and that had been…
Quite frankly, the last fucking thing Rhys had expected. 
Every…every other female would have somehow made more sense in his mind. 
“Where’s she?” Nesta stormed into the room, Cassian hot on her heels. 
“Upstairs,“ Feyre answered. “Nesta, let Madja work,” his mate tried but Nesta fixed her with one look. 
“She’s our sister. If she dies, I am not letting her die alone!” Nesta snapped out, stomping upstairs. 
And that was that. 
Nobody tried to stop her. 
“She won’t die. It’s Eira,” Elain said, her voice strangely detached. Like that was written in stone, with all the trust in the world and Rhys wished, he had some of her confidence. Nobody else had it. 
Mor sat on one chair, knees hugged to her chest. His normally always so bright, colourful cousin curled together in one miserable ball. Feyre shook next to him and he reached out for her hand, gently squeezing it, before he let her go. 
He could feel the very foundations of his brother's mental shields wobble. 
His eyes snapped to Azriel.
To Azriel who stood there, hands still covered in Eira‘s blood, red streaks on scarred skin. 
Outwardly there was only a flurry of shadows trailing around him, worriedly. No other signs. 
But his eyes…his stare was empty. 
*Cassian. Don’t let him leave your sight,* he told his other brother sharply, mind to mind. *And try and get him to clean his hands,* he added as an afterthought. Maybe that…Maybe that would help…maybe…
*Rhys,* Caddian whispered into his mind. *If she dies…I don’t know if we’ll be enough.* Cassian didn’t say anything that Rhys wasn’t thinking. Nothing that he wasn’t dreading. *You know how he…he spent centuries waiting. He never talks about it but we both know how much he wanted a mate. How much he just wants to be loved…and…*
And the mating bond had just snapped. And if Rhys hadn’t pushed for Azriel to wait, they wouldn't even be in this fucking situation. 
Azriel’s mate’s blood…Feyre’s sister’s blood…Eira’s blood…it was on his hands. On Rhys’ hands. 
*I know.*
*If she dies, I don’t know what he’ll do.*
Neither did Rhys. 
“Madja is the best. If anybody can save her it will be her,” Cassian said aloud, probably for Azriel’s benefit, crossing over to Az, gently reaching out to touch their brother’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up,” he said quietly, gently pushing Azriel from the room, probably in search of a bathroom. 
Rhys pressed a kiss to Nyx's head, who was looking around the room wide-eyed, not understanding a thing what was going on. There seemed to be no sign of their son being exhausted from the magic he had expelled. Nothing. 
A problem for another day maybe. As long as he seemed fine... 
 “Mor?” he said quietly as he kneeled at his cousin’s side, reaching out for her, hand hovering…Mor looked at him, brown eyes wide and tearful. 
His cousin. He had killed Keir with nary a thought. 
“I never thought he would…do this,” Mor whispered, reaching out for his hand. “I thought…”
There was a tiny part of Mor that still believed that her family could change…that had still loved her parents…hadn’t wanted them dead. And he had taken that from her. 
“I know,” he whispered and she squeezed his hand in response. 
*I am sorry…* he said nonetheless in her mind and he could feel her surprise and then her acceptance. Mor wasn’t angry. Even when she had every right to it...Right to hate him for killing her father, even when Rhys had every right to do that as well. Hate could fester easily under such circumstances. 
*I am not,* Mor disagreed. *He got what he had coming…* A pause. Then she pushed a memory at him…Eira’s still body…the grey pallor of her usually pale skin…the way she had been limb and cold in Mor’s grasped as she had winnowed them to the River House and then fetched Madja…all in the span of seconds.
The blood…the dagger to the heart she had taken…Azriel’s magic pulsing around her, the shadows that hovered…all of it…it looked like the scene out of a nightmare. 
*It’s not looking good, Rhys,* Mor whispered. *Az doesn’t deserve this.* No, he didn’t. But neither did the female laying up there and fighting for her fucking life. 
All of it just because of…
He had pulled it all out of Keir’s head before he had killed him. The whole hare-brained plan, if one could call it like that. 
Nyx’s wings an obvious sign of his “half-breed” status…and with that, not something that Keir could stomach the thought of bowing to one day. Kill the heir, destablise the whole Night Court…Hope that Rhys could be baited. And then Keir would have made his move and the Night Court would be reunited under the glorious reign of Keir. 
And because of that, of the obsession of one male…his son had nearly died. 
He looked up sharply as he heard the steps. “Madja.” 
“I removed the knife. I stopped the bleeding,” Madja said, the dress she wore blood-flecked. “I did all I could.” 
He didn’t doubt that. The question was just if that was going to be enough. 
“She’s alive. For the moment,” Madja cautioned them quietly. “She’s…She’s fighting. The poison they dunked that knife in was…particularly nasty. It stops the blood from clotting…makes the pain feel much worse than it is.” 
She didn’t need to spell it out. It was torture. “Is…Is there an antidote?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. 
“None that her body would be able to absorb without killing her right now,” Madja said carefully. “She’s…magically exhausted. She expelled…most, if not all of her magic.” 
“She never had much in the first place,” Mor choked out. “She probably tried to winnow and…”
And that hadn’t worked. It had failed. 
“What…what can we do?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. 
“We wait,” Madja answered calmly. “I gave her every potion I could…I healed as much as I could… If she pulls through the night…I would be cautiously optimistic,” she told Feyre, her voice gentle. “Infection has already set in. She’s feverish. Lady Nesta is with her.“
And Rhys didn’t doubt for one moment that Nesta would stay right at her side…she was stubborn like that. 
“Is she…is she in pain?” Feyre asked, her hands tightening on Nyx, who was sucking on his thumb. 
Madja hummed softly. “She will be for days, High Lady,” she told Feyre, not unkindly. 
*Rhys…Could you…Please, I don’t want her to be in pain. Even if she doesn’t…even if she dies, Eira shouldn’t be in pain.* 
No, she shouldn’t be. 
*Of course, Feyre Darling,* he agreed quietly. As much pain as he could take from her, he would. 
“Mor?” he said aloud, and his cousin looked up, unfurling from her little ball. 
“I’ll deal with the fallout,“ she said, her voice only shaking around the edges. “Amren and I will manage." 
“She should be back soon,” he said aloud.  *She’s dealing with…the carnage,* he said into Mor’s mind and his cousin just nodded. It was better that…most people didn’t know what had happened...they didn't need to deal with the bodies…especially when they themselves didn’t even know how it had happened yet. 
Instead, he pressed another kiss to Nyx’s head and then, even when he didn’t want to leave him…he walked up the stairs to Eira’s bedroom. 
She had taken over a room on the third level of the house…away from both the master bedroom and also the room Elain had chosen, overlooking the garden. 
Eira’s room overlooked the River. It wasn’t the biggest bedroom either, with sloped ceilings that made it look smaller than it was…and the usual furniture that Feyre had picked for every room in the house. 
He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but maybe he had expected the room to have gotten a little bit more personality in the over 2 years that Eira now lived there. Something. Anything. 
The only thing that made it obvious that it was her room, was a box of thread spilling over her desk. 
Eira was on her bed and Nesta was sitting at her side, glaring at him as he opened the door. “Out!” Nesta snapped. “I do not want you to see her like that.” 
“See her like what?” Rhys asked, eyebrows climbing into his hairline. Half dead? Her skin was still grey, breath raspy…as he stepped closer to the bed, he could see the sweat beading at her hairline…
Nesta glared at him as she tugged a sheet around her, covering her.  
“In a state of undress,” she told him sharply. 
He blinked twice. 
He really couldn’t care less about it. Besides, she was still wearing a dress, even when Madja had cut it open to make it easier for her to reach the wound on her ribcage. And he had seen her in less…when she had been thrown into that cauldron and spat out again, the white cotton of her nightgown had become translucent. 
He hadn’t cared, because the only female he even wanted to look at anymore was Feyre, and her sisters were his now…
“I really don’t care about that,” he assured Nesta, who just glared at him. 
“She would,” Nesta spat out. “Eira would care, Rhysand.  She saved your son at the expense of her own life. The least you could give her is some fucking respect and her modesty.”
Right. 
“Is there ever going to come a day where you don’t expect the worst of me?” he asked with a sigh, moving to her desk to pick up the chair and bring it over to her side. 
He watched with surprise as shadows started to cover her body…becoming nearly solid in places, obscuring her torso from view, only leaving out her face and her limbs. 
Nesta stared at them for a moment but then seemed to think that they couldn’t possibly make it any worse. 
“Why are you here?” Nesta demanded from him. 
“I am a daemati,” he gave back drily as he sat down in the chair, mustering Eira’s prone form. Fine-boned, pale skin with a smattering of freckles just like Feyre. Not fragile, but…delicate.
“You are not poking around in her head,” Nesta seethed. 
“Even if it would take away her pain?” he offered lightly. Nesta harrumphed.  
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”
 Rhys took that as the only agreement he was going to get.
He reached out with his mind, expecting to carefully brush up against Eira’s mental shields…It seemed to be the only magical thing that she had easily caught on to. 
He had always left her mind alone, no reason why he should delve any deeper than surface sweeps he did on instincts…not when Eira’s mind had always been…soft in a sense. More worried about how other people felt than herself…
Now…unconscious. Ravaged by fever…there were no shields. Her mind bloomed under his touch, suddenly, harshly... She dragged him inside and he tumbled right into her memories. 
One quick snapshot after another. So quickly…too quickly. 
***
Wooden Ruler to her knuckles. Pain biting. Hard. Crying. Do not lie to me. 
She hadn’t lied. She hadn’t. The letters had truly changed places in front of her. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t…
***
A hand grasping underneath her chin, so tightly that it hurt. Steel grey eyes. Her eyes. She inherited them. 
Your resemblance to a mole rat is rather unfortunate. But don’t worry. I am sure you’ll make a proper wife someday. To a farmer maybe. 
That was alright. She could be a wife. She wanted to be a wife. Even to a farmer…she…She wanted to be a wife. She wanted to have children…a baby…
***
Molten ore being poured into her veins. Humanity burned away. Fury. So much fury poured over her body. Your sister stole from me… And she paid the price. In blood and pain and drowning. 
Heat and Cold and burning alive and freezing…
She hit the floor, her whole body not her own…not anymore. 
Not her body. Never her body. Never again. 
***
Again. And Again. And Again. 
Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth…
A quiet moan as she pulled at her ears, too long, too pointy, not hers, not hers, she never wanted these, but they were there sprouting from her head and they heard too much and she saw too much and she…
Back and Forth and Back and Forth…Iron taste in her mouth, too sharp teeth biting into her lip. 
She didn’t care. 
Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth and maybe she would fall asleep and she wouldn’t hear heartbeats and she wouldn’t hear voices and she wouldn’t be heard, sat in that closet, in that tight and dark little place, because everything else felt too much. 
Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth…
***
Peace. For the first time…in a long time. Peace. Just her hands, stitching on that button, one after another…the notes building in her throat. A children’s lullaby. Feyre had loved it. 
Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.
Said the scary one. 
The words stuck in her throat. 
She didn’t do it again. Not where anybody could hear it. 
She should make no noises. She wasn’t allowed to make any noises. Not allowed to take up any space. 
***
Screams muffled by pillows, shaking and crying and weeping and she didn’t know how she could stand it…Griefing and crying and she wanted to shout and scream and she couldn’t…she couldn’t…she couldn’t…
***
She was a failure. She always was a failure. Never enough. It didn’t matter what she did. She was dumb, she was stupid, she wasn’t good enough. 
As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.
So pretty. So beautiful…so blonde, with golden hair. So powerful. Everything she wasn’t. 
Everything she shouldn’t be.
Laughter. 
It was the truth. She was useless. 
She couldn’t do what came so easily to everybody else. No winnowing. No anything. Not good enough. Regardless of how hard she tried. 
***
Please. Please. Please. Just once…Just one time…
Garden. Wrought Iron table and chairs…broad wings sunning in the sun…a quiet conversation…a male’s laugh. So beautiful…so handsome…so kind. 
Her sister turned…he smiled. 
So beautiful.  So handsome. So kind. Hazel green eyes…dark curly hair. 
She wanted him. 
But he didn’t want her. 
So in love. With Elain. 
Not with her. Never with her. Never would be. 
Nobody would ever want her. He wouldn’t ever want her. 
***
Her sister. Her sister. Regardless of anything. 
Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.
She wouldn’t. Her tears didn’t matter. To anybody. She would deal with them herself. It was her own fault. She didn’t listen. 
She couldn’t listen. Her sister. Her sister. 
Her fault. 
She should know better. 
***
Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?
Silver embroidery floss, red silk. 
Black thread. 
Little hands painstakingly stitching, only for the dress to be just as painstakingly wrapped up and put in the chest at the bottom of her bed, never to be seen again. It was better that way. 
Never would be worn by a bride on her wedding day…or a Valkyrie on the day of her mating ceremony. 
Ugly Dresses. Not pretty enough. Not good enough. Never good enough. Not for Nesta. Not for anybody. 
***
Her own fault. Shouldn’t eavesdrop. They never heard anything good about themselves. 
We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.
Nobody needed her. Better if she didn’t bother anybody. Elain was prettier. Always was. Always would be. She was the ugly one. She wasn’t needed. She was worth nothing. 
***
Delicate tea. Ginger Cookies. Her sister’s favourite. Sun outside in the garden, dancing on the wooden floor…
Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do. 
Of course. She was a bother. She shouldn’t. She should know better. Others were more important. Shouldn’t bother. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. 
***
Quiet. Don’t bother anybody. Make yourself useful. 
Nyx. 
So beautiful. 
Just like Feyre. 
Sing. Softly. So nobody could hear. 
So nobody… just Nyx. Hers and not hers. Feyre’s. 
Envy. So much envy, because she wished she had what her sister had. She wished she had a husband and a baby and somebody that loved her. 
Somebody who didn’t hate her. But she didn’t. 
So she sang. Another human lullaby for the future High Lord. 
Again and Again and again and her broken heart broke even more. 
***
Blue velvet box. Winter solstice. 
Pearl Earrings. Beautiful. So beautiful. 
But for her…for her useless. Her ears weren’t pierced. 
He hadn’t even noticed that. It hurt worse than even his smiles at her sister. 
He had brought her a gift…but it wasn’t a gift that she could use, no gift that…no gift that was special to her…no thought behind it… just an item on a list to be checked off. 
Something for Eira. Beautiful and Impersonal and…
No attention paid to her. 
She didn’t deserve his attention. Never. 
But she wanted it. Just once…
Please, Please, Please, Please…
***
She wanted to help. She always wanted to help. 
At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!
Her sister. Her sister. Her sister. 
She wished to cease existing. She didn’t care anymore. 
She could disappear and she would do them all a favour. 
Especially him. 
***
Fledgeling happiness shattered like a glass bottle on a stone floor. 
Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.
Her feelings. An inconvenience. Should get over them. Now. Before they make trouble. 
Even when she never told anybody. Kept that secret close to her heart….
Of course. She would never tell him. 
She would never say a word. She would close her eyes and wish herself far, far away. 
Better that way. 
Wasn’t good enough. Useless. Stupid to think that she had a chance. She didn’t. Ugly. Not Enough. Worthless. Do not take up space. Melt into the background. Cease to exist. 
***
Rhys snapped himself from her brain, and then promptly wretched, vomiting onto the floor. 
723 notes · View notes
starlightguh · 2 months ago
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The Sharpest Tongue
Word count: 2,822
Summary: What if the stone Sylus won hadn't been the right one to send him and MC home to Linkon? As MC struggles to learn the local language, she finds herself the subject of the other warriors in the clan. Too bad it seems like Sylus has the sharper tongue amongst them all.
Tags: Cunnilingus, Grasslands AU, Jealous!Sylus
A/N: This is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I wanted to write something for the grasslands AU and saw someone mention we needed more jealousy grassland stories, so here you go! 100% transparency, I could not find anything on Talanian language, so I used Mongolian words, I'm not familiar with the language so if there are mistakes, I apologize!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Find this fic on Ao3 as well!
The Khan had given Sylus the bright red stone for his victory in the battle against the best warriors in the clan. My worries weren’t for nothing as there wasn’t any trace of meta flux emanating from it. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn’t resonate with it.
So we were stuck in the grasslands.
For someone who should have been happy due to our victory, both me and Sylus held somber faces around the celebratory fires and festivities. I could feel his red eyes staring at my downcast face as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“We’ll just keep searching kitten…As long as we’re together we can keep looking for a way to return home.”
I inhaled deeply and nodded silently as I turned to look at him, his expression was really soft and full of apology. I wanted to go home badly. But…Sylus had a point, wallowing won’t do anything. We’ll just make a plan to find a way back to Linkon.
I steeled myself by fixing my slouched posture and closing my eyes to take deep breaths. After a few moments I opened my eyes and smiled at Sylus, “Well I guess now is the time to embrace the nomad lifestyle…Until we find our way back home that is.”
Sylus stands, my eyes lingering on his distracting buff physique as he holds out his hand.
“Let’s not weep and try to make the most of our time together, hm? Shavanika.”
His baritone voice stirs an excitement in my belly as I take his hand and he begins to twirl me to the rhythm of the festive music the villagers are playing by the campfire. I feel the beads in my hair slap my cheeks as I spin around the orange hues of the warm flames near me. For a brief while as me and Sylus danced around the flames, my anxieties had drifted away. I was grateful to have him by my side and ease my worries.
My bare feet feel unsteady as I haphazardly try to follow the rhythm of an unfamiliar tune, but the warm and strong arms of the silver-haired warrior in front of me hold me steady. I smile and laugh at Sylus’ serious expression as we dance and lose ourselves to a night full of joy.
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After the festival, we packed up and moved to travel alongside the rest of the villagers. Me and Sylus agreed we would adapt to our surroundings of the people around us as we tried to find any clues about a way home.
I was not the fastest learner, but I did get a few things down, the women taught me duties I was expected to help with, from herding livestock, sewing, cooking, and laundry, I was slowly earning my place amongst the others. However, I was struggling with learning the language. I could pick up a few words here and there, but I couldn’t really understand or communicate as properly as I would like.
Then there was Sylus, he was a polyglot so picking up the language wasn’t difficult for him. He must have been fluent only after a solid two weeks of study. I was envious, but also grateful since I relied on his help a lot to learn and understand.
The warriors happily accepted Sylus, he easily fit in and would help them with hunts for resources as well as military strategies and ideas. The Khan favored him a lot and Tara told me whispers of them wanting to promote Sylus to a general title.
While we hadn’t been traveling with our clan for more than a month, we easily slipped into our roles quickly. And now it seems we quickly have found ourselves involved in more politics than we would like.
It was like any other day, I was riding my cream-colored stallion through the grassy fields trying to get the flock of sheep on the right path. I called out the different sounds and commands I was taught while keeping a stead-fast pace on horseback.
My hunter's instincts kicked in as I noticed one sheep was away from the herd, and upon further investigation, it was being hunted by a hungry coyote.
“Shit,” I hissed to myself and acted quickly as I grabbed a rope from my satchel. As the coyote pounced, I lassoed it and used my strength to pull him away from the sheep.
I was heaving and sweaty as I just lifted the clueless sheep back to the herd. As I was getting back on my horse, I heard some whistles call out to me. I glanced around and noticed a group of four warriors walking up and cooing at me.
I didn’t really recognize them, I only knew they were of the same clan since their chest guards had the same color ropes that Sylus wore. The men spoke to me in Talanian, but I could only pick out words like ‘strong’ and ‘brave.’
“I uh…am not familiar with the language yet, chlaarai .”
They seemed to just smile as one made a comment to the group in Talanian, they laughed and just waved goodbye toward me as they rode off.
I didn’t think much of this encounter until the next day.
We had set up camps deep in the Northern Grasslands, orange was taking over the skies as the dawn broke. I was hanging clothes I had just washed in the river on a clothesline outside one of the elder's yurts.
Behind me I heard the sharp tongue of Talanian, I glanced and noted those same big warriors from the other day were talking. I had paid them no mind as I did my duties.
Suddenly I heard the sharp thuds of angry footsteps behind me and a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I glanced up and saw a very pissed-off Sylus glaring off in the direction of the four other men.
He yelled at them in Talanian and growled when the other men responded in what I could only assume was a taunt. Sylus let go of my waist and marched up to one of the men and grabbed him by his leathers. People started to gather to watch the rowdy commotion.
I turned and saw Tarna and sighed in relief since she could explain what was going on, “Hey, Tarna….What exactly is happening?” I asked her urgently as it sounded like the men were raising their voices.
“Well…It seems the Khan’s second son Gansu said something about your er….” She paused and looked shy when translating what was said, “birthing hips, and how he wanted you as a wife to bear his children.”
I stood frozen as it all clicked into place. I looked over at Sylus who was still arguing with them, a scowl marred on his face.
“Sylus came in and said they shouldn’t speak about you that way that you were his beloved. Gansu told him that it didn’t matter to him unless you two were wedded or you were pregnant.”
“Seriously?!? If he’s the son of a Khan he can marry whoever he wants. Why would he want me?”
Tarna shook her head at me, “That’s why Sylus is arguing, he says that you are with him and will never have anyone else’s children.”
The arrogant Gansu held a smirk as he practically hissed at Sylus, a dark expression glazed over Sylus’ face. I’ve only ever caught glimpses of Sylus angry, but never this murderous.
“What did he say?” I asked Tarna, my voice full of worry. I could feel the icy chill of Sylus’ anger even from a distance.
“Gansu just said ‘well whoever takes it keeps it’ as a threat… I think you should go over and stop Sylus, if he gets in a fight with the Khan’s son they could severely punish him,” Tarna warned me.
I nodded and without a second thought, I ran up behind Sylus and gently placed my hand on his lower back. His tense body seemed to ease up a bit at my touch as I tried my hardest to speak in Talanian.
“ Amarkhan bai….S-Shavanika …” Fight not, beloved . These were the only words I could best make out with my limited knowledge.
Silently he grabbed my hand and glared down Gansu as he turned to walk away with me. I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Gansu and his men still taunted behind us. We began walking off towards our yurt and it wasn’t until we were a safe distance away I had to whimper to Sylus.
“Your grip is too tight it hurts,” I cried.
He seemed to snap out of his trance and he softened his grip and rubbed his large thumb soothingly across my hand, “Sorry sweetie… I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“I don’t exactly know what was said, but Tarna translated some of what you guys were saying. I didn’t realize the Khan’s son and his friends saw me herding sheep yesterday.”
“The Talanian language is very harsh, most of the words are very direct. The disgusting words from the Khan’s second son really got under my skin is all… Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him yesterday?”
“I didn’t think it was important… Also, I hardly saw you yesterday,” I sigh, “You came back to our tent pretty late… Are you sure you weren’t up practicing Talanian with the other village girls?” I hiss a bit. While the Khan’s son may be chasing my skirts, I can’t ignore the fact that all the girls of the village have been trying their hardest to catch Sylus’ eye.
Sylus stopped in his tracks and growled he turned to me and looked down with a sharp gaze, “How many times do I need to express to you I’m not interested in the other village girls?”
I match his glare and put my hands on my hips, “And how many times do I have to tell you I can handle myself, the Khan’s son doesn’t scare me. I’ll just refuse him.”
Sylus tsked his lips and leaned down to lift me up on his shoulder.
“Hey! Put me down!”
“No. It seems like I need to practice Talanian with the only village girl who matters to me,” he says sharply. He gives my butt a playful smack as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, my face in the direction of his backside.
I smack his butt back and he just chuckles, “You’re not getting out of this one Shavanika, so simmer down kitten.”
When he strutted into our tiny little yurt and set me down, his red eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and mischief. His hand remained on my waist as he spoke in a low and seductive tone.
My back arched at the feeling of his hands trailing down my waist and gathering my skirts up in his large rough palms. He set his other palm in the dip on my hip as he stared at me with almost an appraising look in his eye. “Let’s start with the lesson…What did that man call these?”
His left dominant hand was under my skirt caressing my thigh, I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes and tried to remember the foreign words spoken earlier.
“T-Toro? Kha-?” I sputtered out as his palm found its way to one of my bare-asscheeks. He squeezed it and tsked his lips as he brought his face closer to mine and he spoke lowly.
“Torkah Khongo,” the purr in his voice did nothing but further my arousal. I was being engulfed by the dominant energy Sylus was putting out. It didn’t take very much for me to become putty in his strong hands.
His other hand reached under my skirt as well and without further notice, the lengthy skirt that usually met my ankles were now scrunched up at my waist. Underwear wasn’t a common thing within the tribe, so I had been forced to forgo that luxury and be commando under my lengthy traditional clothing. I think for a situation such as a lustful Sylus, it was beneficial to be as naked as possible.
“Do you know what the translation is?” He quirked a brow.
“B-Birthing Hips?”
“Mhmm,” there was a slight growl to his response, “he said that you had the birthing hips to bear him many sons.” Sylus gripped my hips in a tightening grip. “Too bad for him these hips are miniikh.”
Sylus dropped to his knees in a squat as his mouth bit a part of my inner thigh, his hands rubbing the bare skin before him. “Do you know the translation?”
His mouth placed hot and wet kisses in my inner thigh, teasing me by being so close to where I actually wanted his mouth. I gasped out an answer as he was torturing me with kisses, “M-Mine?”
“Good girl, seems like you do know more than I thought,” he whispers breathlessly, “Let me reward you.”
He then licked my dripping slit, I let out a whimper in surprise.
“Tell me, who do these hips belong to?” He asked as he pulled away from licking my heat.
“Y-You.”
He smacked my thigh at my answer, “Ah-Ah-Ah, in Talanian sweetie.”
“ Ta,” I moaned out as he suckled on my sensitive pearl.
With a pop of his lips, he pulled away and smirked, “Hmm that’s a good answer, but I have a better one. Repeat after me: Nökhör .”
The pronunciation of the word feels strange as I try my best to repeat it, “noct-core?”
Sylus just shakes his head and repeats it slower for me, when I finally pronounce it right he rewards me by entering one of his fingers into my dripping center.
“Keep saying it sweetie, practice makes perfect,” he chuckles and his mouth finds my center again as he slowly devours me.
With his finger slowly pumping me and his greedy tongue flickering on my sensitive folds, my voice is nothing but a loud and needy whine of this new word he’s taught me and I haven’t a clue what it means. All I know is Sylus likes it as he happily groans into my dripping cunt.
“Louder. I want the whole tribe to hear you scream it, so everyone knows we belong to each other and no one else,” his lower face is dripping in my essence and his red eyes have a bit of a manic and desperate look as I look down on him.
“Sylus….” I lose my mind as he now has three fingers in me and the mouth of a sinner as he loudly slurps at my folds with his sharp tongue.
Ecstasy and euphoria wash over me as I come on his face with that new and unfamiliar word on my tongue. My knees shake and nearly give out, but Sylus stands and lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around his middle.
I lean my head forward as I pant into his ear, “What’s the translation of that word.”
He laughs as he rubs my back while I come down from my high, “Why, it’s my future title…It means ‘husband.’”
“Sylus! How bold of you to assume!”
He frowned at this and glared at me, “I'm not assuming anything, but unless you want to be the wife of the Khan’s son, then you must be mine…I can’t protect you from the leaders otherwise.”
I blush, “I-It’s just so embarrassing….I never thought about marriage.”
He smirks a bit, “Well I'm glad I can change your mind, at least while we’re here. Linkon has a very different culture from the grasslands, and we can talk about a proper marriage when we return home. Deal?”
“Fine but you’re not knocking me up while I'm here,” I huff at him as he lays me down on our pelts and strips off the rest of his clothes.
“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. You’re just too tempting, Shavanika.”
“Only for you my Nökhör.”
That night Sylus made me scream so loud that the Khan’s son did nothing but glare daggers as Sylus confidently walked through the village the next day I, on the other hand, was forced to stay in bed due to my wobbly knees. When I finally returned to my duties after a day's rest, the other girls just giggled as they saw me.
Tarna translated a message for me that the elders are happy for whatever blessings me and Sylus marriage may bring, but to keep it to ourselves at night. I was horrified and embarrassed, while Sylus walked around as the proud warrior both in the grasslands and in the bedroom.
The strongest warrior and the sharpest tongue will always come out on top I suppose.
~fin~
Translation guide:
Shavanika - Beloved
Chlaarai - Sorry
Amarkhan bai - Fight not
Torkah Khongo - Birthing Hips
Miniikh - Mine
Ta - You
Nökhör - Husband
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