#Sparkling Treasures [Saved]
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transientfrost · 9 days ago
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General Tag Drop!
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shysuccubusstuff · 1 month ago
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dragon! Sylus hc:
Content: SFW + NSFW stuff; slight stalker behaviour + lovesick! sylus + size difference + established relationship + hemipenis (double dick, basically) + unrealistic sex + breeding kink + aftercare; non proof-reader.
Note: ofc I had to write something about this hunk-- I mean, I've been saving some wishes for him (got around... 46??) so yeah, I'm really close to pity so I hope to be lucky and get him cause he's so FUCKING hot with his tail and horns... Hope everyone is doing fine!! I already did the pulls, sadly I didn't get both, so now I'm stuck with one of them and one card for Sylus which is not the pair (I got Immobilized I think it's called). I haven't seen the actual story cause I still have the hope of getting it, so bear with me if I mess up/invent stuff cause, yk. I tried to do some research about how a dragon "thing" would work but damn, I ended up on a deep rabbit hole... let me know if you liked it ♡♡
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Dragon! Sylus who finds you trying to steal his treasure. You look so tiny in contrast with him that it makes him want to eat you up ♡. Despite that, he restrians himself, not wanting to break his brand new toy so fast.
Dragon! Sylus who turns into his human form in fear of crushing you with one of his claws. Even despite he is several times smaller, you still look so tiny close to him... God, he really is trying his hardest you know?
Dragon! Sylus who acts all rough at first, threatening you with his mean words and his nasty demeanor when in reality he is dying to touch you. So he does, getting close to you so he can "threaten" you with his size, his tail slowly wrapping around your waist as he whispered his empty threats.
Dragon! Sylus who almost chuckles after seeing you retreat, one of your pockets filled with golden coins you had managed to "steal" (he let you take them, of course). Little did you know that this would basically give him a great excuse to follow you around, always feeling his pair of eyes piercing your back, always unable to find him among the crowd. Other times, he simply hid on the dark alleys, his red eyes glistening just from the idea of being found out by you.
Dragon! Sylus who is ecstatic when you finally regain your courage to return to him (his treasure). He has to try as hard as possible to avoid smiling like an idiot when he sees you amost trembling in front of him, yet you try to keep that brave facade.
Dragon! Sylus who keeps his act together, acting all high and mighty, acting as if he doesn't care when he sees your eyes sparkling, not because of him, but because of the great amount of fortunes he had gotten from all those years. Does it even make sense to feel jealous because of some stupid treasures?...
Dragon! Sylus who is able to slowly warm you up. It begins as a merely transactional relationship, always letting you get your way with him. You wanted his golden coins? Sure, take them. Needed some jewellery? Take what you want. Need a fast trip somewhere? You know he will let you ride him (funny word). Then, he gets more touchy, he starts by brushing your fingertips when the two of you walk through the gorgeous field of flowers, then catching you on his arms as you almost trip, finally allowing you to get on top of him as your hands touched his bare chest.
Dragon! Sylus who slowly gets accustomed to the human ways, slowly learning how to hide his horn and tails, then taking you to small dates around town, buying you anything your fingers touch with the excuse of "having too much gold pilling around was no fun".
Dragon! Sylus who learns about the human custom of gifting a ring to their loved one. He thinks about simply choosing one from his pile, but he finally decides to create a custom one. He spends several days working on it, thinking about the best design for it and what jewel would he want encrusted, finally choosing a red spinel.
Dragon! Sylus who confesses in the middle of the blooming field, getting on one knee and proposing to you, his heartbeat pumping rapidly, making him afraid of the possibility of you hearing it.
Dragon! Sylus who ends up shedding a few tears after you accept him. The tears rapidly dry because of his high temperature, but you kiss them, making him feel even more flustered.
Dragon! Sylus who almost drops the small snack you two had bought when you suddenly told him that you wanted him to do it, that you had been waiting for him to say anything. He tries to play it cool, acting as if he doesn't truly understand you, not like his grip turning the snack into bits.
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Dragon! Sylus who sometimes snuck on your room, carefully sitting on your bed, laying on top of your chest and enjoying your sweet scent. The slit on his lower half opening and allowing his erection to rise. He tried to steady his breathing, afraid of being caught by you. He started to use his hand, slowly going up and down, as one of his hands caressed your hair. He knew it was wrong, of course he did, but his rut was far too close and this was the only way of keeping just enough sanity for him not to jump at you at the slightest touch.
Dragon! Sylus who tries his best not to hurt you, letting you ride you, his hands gripping your hips to avoid you taking more than you could handle. "Be careful, sweetie. There's no rush, we have all the time in the world." He keeps reassuring you as you try to get used to his whole lenght, his other cock rubbing against your tummy as you hug his back, your nails digging on his back as he slowly made his way into you.
"You're doing so well, sweetie. Remember to breath, yeah? I'm almost completely inside." He whispers into your ear, one of his hands petting your hair while the other keeps you in place.
Finally, you let out a heavy sigh, finally being able to rest while his tip rubs against your cervix. He keeps you there for a few seconds, letting you adjust to him until you start to move your hips, his hands now supporting your thighs. Despite the rhythm starts quite slow, Sylus soon takes charge of it, starting to speed up as he got closer. At the same time, he keeps leaving soft kisses all over your face, intercalating between soft pecks and his tongue exploring your mouth, sucking on your tongue or bitting your lower lip as an attempt of avoiding you getting cock-drunk.
"You said you were ready, where did all your spirit go, sweetie?" He pushed you away, forcing you to look him in the eyes as his hips kept slamming against you. "I do have to say that this look fits you quite well, here on my lap all dazed because of me. Sure you have to go back home? I could treat you so well here... Get you all knocked up and pretty, treat you like a queen every single day, just think about it." He forced you to keep the eye contact by keeping your chin up with one of his hands, the other pressing against your lower stomach so you could feel his tip constantly hitting against your G-spot.
Even as you tried to stop him from running his mouth, you were still far too dazed, fat tears running down your cheeks as he kept overstimulating you orgams after orgasm without giving you a single break. His grip on your hips tightening as his member started to twitch inside you. "Get ready sweetie, I'm close. Want me to fill you up? Get you pregnant with my seed so you can finally stay with me forever."
You nodded, your brain far too overwhelmed to make a coherent sentence, only beinf able to nod as you blabbered a few words: "Get me pregnant, please! Love you, love you so much! Just fill me up--- My brain is turning into mush!" He smiled wickedly, eyes glistening with desire as he got to mark you completely with his seed, his tongue exploring your mouth as he kept trying to keep himself as controlled as possible.
By the time you were back up, Sylus was resting under you, your face completely rested against his bare chest. "You did so good, sweetie. Let me take you to a lake I know, the water is quite warm at this time of the year, we can bathe together. Let me take care of you, I will clean you up." He kissed your forehead, taking you bridal style and starting to fly with you on his arms, one of them covering your face to avoid the air annoying you.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 2 months ago
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❝ That heavy breathin' on the floor ❞
Vander x ftm!reader | Sevika x ftm!reader (customer) | Silco x ftm!reader | fluffy, NSFW, angst | reader has had top-surgery & bottom growth | versatile. bottom. reader | NOT PROOFREAD + partly written on my phone | wc: 17k
warnings: violence against a sw, police brutality, r! is nearly assaulted but is saved, r! is a prostitute, brothel mentioned, mentions of addiction, spanking, fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex, strap-on, minor daddy kink (sevika), pussy-eating, choking, slapping, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock, terms like boypussy, pussy, boycunt, cunt are used), murder, graphic depictions of violence
masterlist; pt. 1; pt. 2
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authors note: this kind of gets a bit heavy at the end with themes of injustices against s*x workers along side police brutality and r! nearly getting assaulted by a haughty rich dude from Piltover. If its it's too heavy, please prioritize yourself ! *song on repeat: Billie Boss Nova by Billie Eilish *YN is described as being shorter than Vander (202cm), Sevika (185cm), and Silco (182cm) in this fic.
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"So, how'd you decide this career was the best course of action in your life?" your lips twitch at the question. Well, less of the question and more of the person asking; there was an accent these Topsiders have. Dripping with condescension and haughtiness. It was like they were bred to have their noses pointed up, as if there was some sort of treasure up those pin-holes.
"You're asking for my life story?" you drawl, watching as his hands crawl up your thighs. They were splotchy with age spots, but plumper than the old timers from here. Figures. You split your legs for him and he wets his lips. "You get off on that sort of things?" you throw an arched brow his way, a look he dismisses with a wanton grope of your unclothed cunt.
"If I say I do, you'd have to indulge, correct?"
Even the way he asks his questions felt like he was talking down to you.
You hated events like these. The brothel hosted them for the handful of clients who could afford to rent out a whole floor for themselves, usually they were sleazy Topsiders with their stupid little kids who'd come of age.
Easier to pop all sorts of cherries in the underbelly of Piltover because 'they'd do just about anything for some coin!'
You take a long drag of your hookah while the old fuck grinds his palm to your dick. It's strange how soft his hands are. You're used to callouses, palms that strike with power behind them and grips that bruises. This was pathetic.
"My dad bailed on my mom before he knew I was even conceived," his eyes glimmer with morbid curiosity. He rubs his hands up and down, a tepid rhythm that sincerely lacks in any semblance of pleasure. "My poor, young, dumb, mother. She tried really, really, really hard." "Did she?"
You nod, looking off at the floor where a whore was sucking off another Topsider; laid on her belly between his legs on the cushions and duvets. The theme of this event had been some dumbass ancient civilization. With white toga's and golden wreaths some of their kids spent a week working on.
"She worked her ass off. Determined to make life worth living for me."
"Did she work...here?"
There it was. That sick fascination. He didn't even know if this story was real, you could be bullshitting him but it doesn't matter. As he strokes your cock, his eyes gleam with a cruelty that only men of his status could possess. Pain was a fetish; it was a welcomed one even. But this? This fetish that he has, of listening to sob stories and fulfilling his torture fantasy. Did he think he was better than a sexual sadist because his hands were soft and wimpy?
He must. Perhaps he even thinks this line of questioning elevates him from your usual customers. Makes this all feel more 'ethical'.
It was funny seeing a predator file their teeth down into shiny sparkling stubs (his veneers were blinding) but forget they still had claws. Your lips curl away from your teeth, in disgust and rising anger.
Then Doe appears in front of you. Her hands stroking up your thighs as she blocks the Topsider's face from yours. The twitch in your brow is hidden behind your mask, but the corners of your mouth twist in confusion. She slips her fingers into his hold, giggling as he greets her.
"Mr. Erikson," she returns the flirting he dishes out, slipping his finger under the strap of her toga and tugging it down. When she brushes her hair over her shoulder, she gives you a pointed expression.
Calm the fuck down, was written all over her face. When she flits her eyes to your trembling hand, you loosen your grip on the hookah and click your teeth. She climbs smoothly onto that old fuck's lap, distracting him with her perky tits while you walk away.
The beaded curtains rattle angrily as you sulk past the threshold. Glaring at every privileged little fuck there on your way out of the hall. When a blonde man tried to grasp at your wrist you tug it away with a snarl. Fucking Topsiders. Going to the Undercity to get their dicks wet, maybe even delude some poor shit into thinking that they could be more. As if they'd ever marry anyone from here, or claim the children they fathered.
Because that's what Topsiders do. They take. All they know to do is take and take and take with no regard nor care —
A hand grabs at your wrist, harshly tugging you back and when you spin you grab the brooch at your shoulder and unclasp it to press the point to Sevika's neck. Your eyes widens and she lets out a low whistle.
"Hello to you too."
"Fuck, Sevika," you hastily bring your 'weapon' down, mindlessly clipping it to the golden make-shift rope-belt at your hip. She lets your wrist go while you lean in to make sure you hadn't actually drawn blood.
"Don't just grab me like that," you chastise. She takes notice of your get-up then glances towards the muffled noises of the hall behind you. "You finished in there?" she asks.
You should tell her no. You'd been asked for by name from the Topsiders, having done well at a previous party like this.
"Yeah. You want me for the night?" she shifts the tooth pick to the other side of her grin, reaching another hand to tug you in by your waist. "C'mon baby, say it nicely."
Sevika tilts her head, her rough hands making your lashes tremble. Both of her hands grab firmly at your ass, hitching you up and close. Her firm body, the scent of smoke and ash and alcohol easing you down as they mingle with Sevika's naturally smoky cologne. Judging from the bag of coin she has hidden in her jacket — that you can feel from under your hand — she was most likely in a good mood from winning a game.
"Say it sweet, how'd you'd ask those Topsiders to fuck you?" she's just getting a rise out of you. It wasn't a secret to Sevika that you despised the Topsiders. Even if you never ranted to her about it, every time they walked into the establishment your mask could barely keep your expression of dismay at bay.
You narrow your eyes at her. Smoothly slipping a hand into her jacket and taking the bag of coins out and holding it out of her reach when she tries to grab it.
"You think you deserve to fuck me?" you play along with her game. Leaning your face in to hers, your mask brushing her cheek. "Little limp dicks like you can barely make me hard, much less cum." Sevika's grip is bruising. The fabric of your toga nearly giving away to her harshness. Sevika was going to fuck you just the way you needed. Fast and hard; a true Zaunite in every way.
Your mask had been tossed aside, most likely on the floor of your room somewhere. The spray-painted golden wreaths, brooch, and belt were safely placed onto one of the dressers. The toga did not get that much grace though. Having been ripped away from your body as Sevika spun you around to pin you down on your stomach at the edge of the semi-circle bed.
"Sevika!" you exclaim in genuine alarm. She can still hear the smile in your voice so she just stares at the cloth material in her hands and breathes out a laugh. It lands next to you while she takes off her cloak.
"That cost money?" she questions mindlessly. You turn over on your back, staring up at her, stark naked. She'd spit out the toothpick before she smashed your lips together up the stairs, yet somehow she's found a cigarette to put between her teeth.
"Yeah," you replied in a matter-of-fact tone, reaching up to your nightstand to grab your box of matches. Striking one to light. She leans over you, her rough hands feeling up your split thighs and you light up her cigarette for her.
"I bought the damn fabric." "Cheap fabric," she replies as she pulls climbs on the bed. Her clothed body pressed against yours.
"Or maybe you're just freakishly strong," you retort with a huff.
"I'll pay extra," she laughs when you raise your brows.
Whores. So easy.
"Fuck, Sevika." She strokes your dick with her fingers which makes your breath hitch. "Yuh - You're gonna...You have to slow down."
"I know you can take more than this." You scowl at her, she just presses down on your poor dick. "I'm talking about gambling, dumbass. You're getting the extra coin from it, aren't you?"
She rolls her eyes, grabbing you face in her other hand and smushing your cheeks — involuntarily making your lips purse out like a fish while she stares down at you. The white smoke slithering up into the air making her grey eyes shine like a vengeful spirit.
"You don't want me here spoiling your ass?" she says gruffly, her fingers now slipping down to your winking hole and smearing your slick over it. "Who else is gonna remind this hole how rough you need it?"
Your eyes soften. She can see your resolve melt as she slips a finger inside of you, she groans just as your brows twitch and knit together. Anal was Sevika's wheelhouse. She always made your entire body shiver and shake when she gets in the mood to fuck you as if you were nothing but her personal flesh light.
"Fuh - fuck you," you hiss out. She knows you don't mean it. Because your customer's moods was your own wheelhouse. You know how they like to play, how much chase they want, how much biting they love. It's why your roster of clients were oddly attached to your fox mask.
She brings her hand to your neck and watch as your back arches of the bed as she fingerfucks your ass while she has her thumb inside of your cunt. Her cigarette was beginning to burn too much and when the ashes drop onto your thigh, you squeak in alarm but don't tell her to stop. So she simply doesn't.
Sevika occasionally slips her fingers back inside of your cunt to gather more lube and you only give her a whine of displeasure.
"You're fine," she reassures, "I'm the first Jane of the night, right?"
When you give her a quizzical look she laughs.
"Your ass is way too tight. Either I'm the first of the night or there's some micro dicks at that party."
"You're way too fuckin' cocky, you know that?"
When Sevika has you fully stretched out, she gives you a moment to catch your breath. Watching your chest raise and fall as you're splayed out on the bed whilst she takes off her clothes and grabs at the cloak and bag she dropped on the ground. Your thighs were wet from your own slick and the lube she'd fished out from your drawers, you watch her move when you lift your arm away from your face.
She's putting on her strap. Just the sight of it has both of your holes clenching. Sevika smushes the cigarette in an ash tray and whistles, twisting her wrist to point down and you hate how much your stomach flutters at the casual dominance. You get on your hands and knees, face pressed to the bed. She grabs the globes of your ass, stroking her dick in the other hand.
"...Are you waiting for me to beg?" you wonder after a moment.
"Might be nice to hear." Your laughter makes her grin. Not that you could see it. You take a few breaths, then look at her from over your shoulder.
"C'mon, daddy. Fuck me." You whine out. Sevika stares on. Unimpressed. You curl your lip, twisting your upper half a bit further to stare back.
"That's a classic."
"I've heard better."
"Hah! From who? Doe?" you fully lay on your side now, smirking as you look up at her. "You're real sweet on her, huh?"
When Sevika grunts, you throw your head back to laugh. She grabs at your ankles but you kick her efforts away and drag yourself further up the bed. She calls out your name flatly but you just giggle.
"You are," you purr. "Thought you said falling for whores are for chumps."
Sevika narrows her eyes, grabbing at your calf and tugging you back down. You squeal, still smiling even when she grabs your ripped toga to tie your wrists together and pull it between your legs as she bends them so far forward your knees are nearly touching your chest.
"Struck a nerve, daddy?" you challenge. Her dick catches on the rim of your asshole, pressing but not breaching.
"You're such a fucking brat. Just a fiend for this kind of shit, huh? Like it rough?"
The thick head of it presses in and you groan. The noise airy — as if she'd knocked it out of you by simply pressing in despite the resistance.
"Your wolfman fuck you like this too?"
You make a noise. Half-squeak and half-gasp, brows furrowing and jumping in alarm when she just slams in more than half of her cock inside.
"Fuck!"
"He fucks your ass like this?"
She readjusts her stance, the bed creaking as she keeps your body at her complete mercy. Pinned under her frame, hands tied up and pulled by her strength while her thick cock is intently filling your ass up. The position makes her hit all the right spots, and you want nothing more than to drown in the overwhelmingly delicious pressure she's pulling you into. But her questions has caught you completely off guard.
"Sevika," you moan out, pushing at her waist with your weak fingers, trying to relieve some of the pleasure. She slopes her brows in faux concern.
"Yeah, you're sweet on him, aren't ya'?"
She slides into you some more, the veins on her cock making your toes curl as your hole clenches around her. She groans as though she can feel it. And you toss your head back.
"You're fucking huge," you whine out.
"Is he bigger or smaller?"
You roll your eyes at her and she smirks. She inches back a few then just drops all her weight down. The moan you let out is nonexistent, mouth opened in a silent scream as your back arches and your vision goes white.
"He make you feel that good?" You suck in a quick breath, as if remembering you could but she doesn't let up.
"I definitely touched something there, huh?"
She starts thrusting. Shallow but quick, just pistoning in and out of your poor ass while your cunt weeps out for a sliver of attention. She ignores it all in favour of waiting for you to flutter your pretty eyes open.
"Duh - daddy," you hiccup out and she just pulls your tied hands out from between your thighs to instead pin above your head.
"S'little too late to act nice, sweet cheeks." You mewl, hips bucking as she continues her onslaught. "Daddy, plea - ah!" The smack of her palm against your ass has your entire body jolting.
"It's a yes or no, baby."
Tears darken your lashes, you bring your hand to her face and use any bit of core strength you have to press your lips with hers but she simply pushes your face down. Not by your neck. No. She's intentionally cruel as she has the space between her thumb and pointer right under the top row of your teeth.
As she thrusts out moan after moan, all you can do is let her hear it. It's humiliating. The noises you make are all choked up, saliva is beginning to pool from the corners of your mouth. No matter how much you thrash or push or try to buck, she just continues to rail you.
You know Sevika would stop if you tapped at her four times in a row. It was something the both of you had long established as a non-verbal safe-word when there's a craving for something harder.
She knows you know how to stop her if you need to. You don't. So she ploughs into you, groaning as she watches you struggle.
"C'mon baby, that's it." She's purring, sweat beading down her face as her hair comes undone. She's a vision like this. Her strong arms flexing under the low lights, her firm stomach clenched as though you were truly milking her cock. It makes you a bit delirious, especially when she's chewing on her lower lip and looking down at you like this.
"Cum around my cock. Like a proper bitch," you groan, knowing she's close from the way her grip on you tightens.
You're feeling the building pressure finally reaching its peak and you bite down on her hand, glaring at her as you moan around her flesh. She just smiles, wide and proud. A true predator.
Her teeth sharp just like her claws.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel your cunt pathetically squirt, the wetness just urging Sevika on as she forces you to bite down harder.
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"You alright?"
Vander's voice feels like an ice pack against bruised skin. An apt metaphor considering he was putting an ice pack to your bruised ass.
"Mmm," he chuckled at your muffled response. After Sevika and you got scolded by your madame, you sought refuge at The Last Drop. Of course, Sevika simply thought you wanted a drink and you had. You hung around her side until she got swept up into a game of poker and slipped away to the back. All under Vander’s watchful eye.
He had grabbed an ice pack just as you slipped through the back, tapping another bartender’s shoulder to take over while he went upstairs. Which is where he found you. In his bedroom, shimmying out of your outfit and looking at him with those pleading eyes.
“You’re off early,” he kneaded at the back of your thighs, watching as your muscles jumped and twitched. “You tapped out?”
He sounds rightfully surprised. You’re not the type to just get off work early because of a bruised ass. You’re tougher than most of everyone here. You stare at him, face smushed against your crossed arms. He reaches to brush some hair away, and you melt further on his mattress.
“Darling?” you frown but finally confess. “I ran away from some dumbass party that the madame was hosting for some Topsider fucks.”
“You thought I’d be angry knowin’ that?” Vander arches a brow. Laying down next to you, trusting that The Last Drop could handle just a few more minutes without him. “You’re allowed to be angry at them. Shits bloody unfair.”
You get on your elbows, placing your chin in your palm while he looks down at you.
“Aren’t you angry at them?” you watch his expression shift. It’s a barely noticeable twitch, really it could be written off as a muscle spasm if anything.
“Aren’t you tired of being angry at them?” you continued.
“I put those dreams on the shelf a long time ago,” he attempts to soothe you by cupping your face. It works, just barely, but you lean into his warmth. “I’ve got too much to lose. This place, the kids.” He pauses and brushed his thumb across your cheek, his pinkie tilting your head up.
“You.”
The comfortable silence washes over. You take a breath and sigh, nuzzling into his large palm. The sweet act has him smiling, glad you drop the topic and using his strength to pull you to lay on his front.
“Sorry, I’m a little dirty.”
“Mm, I like you dirty.”
He laughs. The action jostling you a bit but you simply wrap your arms around his neck while he holds you firm.
“You could just work here.” He runs his hand down your back, kneading his thumbs in at a few knots. You groan into his ear, shaking your head. “You dunno’ what you’re sayin’”
“I’m serious,” he adjusts the ice pack and you shiver a bit as the its sweat drips down between your thighs. “Bar could always use a nicer face than mines.”
“Derek’s pretty enough.” Vander laughs. It rumbles in his throat this time and you grin just hearing it.
“B’sides, you’re plenty handsome.”
“Yeah, but not one of us compare to you, darling.” You hum in agreement, sighing as he works more knots loose.
“Don’t have ta’ come here to lick your wounds if there’s no wounds to lick. Could spend more time with Powder and Claggor, the kids are fond of ya’”
Your eyes slip open. Heart squeezing fondly at the mention of those little rascals. Vander and you aren’t exactly a thing, not said outloud anyways, but he introduced you to his kids. That meant something. He taught you how to sneak into his room too. When your landlord had to kick you out for a few weeks to accommodate for her lame ass nephew, you sheltered at The Last Drop and well, you all bonded.
The guilt in your heart stabbing into you night after night as more feelings poured into this already tumultuously boiling pot of emotions.
But Silco thought it was a good thing. He’d probably be telling you to take Vander’s deal on becoming this weird stay-at-home bartender/boyfriend/babysitter to get more information. Whether it be from Sheriff Grayson or the ever restless Vi.
“Think about it?” Vander blinks up at you when you lift your head. When your lips meet, it’s sweet. Slow and sensual, more lips than tongue. Pecks and real long-lasting ones. You murmur his name and he whispers yours back.
“You not sore?”
“Fuck me slow?”
He smiles and claims your lips again. Vander drifts his hand to the ice pack and removes it. The thud it makes when it falls to the ground makes you giggle, so he attacks your neck next; you give him free reign, gasping when he switches your positions to have laid down next to him.
You’re not even sure what happens next. One moment he’s clothed and the next he’s not as he practically snuggle fucks you on your side. He doesn’t have a bed frame but the springs in his mattress makes a few jostling noises as his cock slid in and out of your cunt.
“Vander, ah-mmphf, fuuuuck,” you press your face into the pillow and simply let him move you around. Completely at his mercy as he holds your waist.
Sevika glanced up at the faint thuds she was hearing above her. But refocuses on the table before her, scoffing at her competitor's lame poker face. Someone turned up the juke box and the noises are a distant memory.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he lifts one of your arms to wrap around his neck, kissing the underside of your arm and brushing his teeth there. The sensation of his beard makes you shiver.
“Deeper, please, Vander. Need you s’much deeper.” He kisses you, pulling out to readjust his position. You’re still laid on your side and he straddles your left leg and slides his thick cock inside of you again. Your voice trembles.
“There, darlin’?” you nod, whimpering when he rocks his hips in and out of you. You clutch at the bedsheets, turning your face into the pillow again as your cunt clenches down around him.
“Fuck, c’mon. Don’t push me out,” Vander threads his fingers through your hand and gently, as if you were made of glass instead of jagged metal, turns your head to him.
“Easy, loosen up a bit. Can’t fuck you how you need me to if you’re too tight.”
You whine, taking a few breaths and trying your best not to clench around him. Fuck, he was so thick. Even if you weren’t clenching, you were sure he’d still feel snug. He thanks you with a kiss to your forehead, gently shushing you when he moves again.
“Vuh...Vander...fuuuck, baby, please.”
“I’ve got ya’, come on, cum f’me.”
“You — Are you —”
Vander grunts, nodding as you once again clamp down on him. He knows you’re close, right on the edge and he wants to follow and dive with you. He kisses you, practically straling your breath away as his thrusts get sloppier and harsher. You mewl, nails digging into the back of his hands. Your orgasm washes over like a wave, your hips bucking as Vander feels your cum spurt around his dick and balls. He’s close behind, filling your insides with thick ropes of cum. He’s murmuring something into your skin. Something you can’t make out.
“Shit, shit.”
When he pulls out, your cunt clenched around nothing but air. Twitching and pulsing just like your little dick, aftershocks of pleasure running through you. His cum begins oozing out between your legs and he pants at the sight. You do nothing to stop him when he places you on your back — putting a pillow under your ass — and dives his head between your legs.
“Vander,” you moan out. Breath hitching as he licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Let me do this for you,” he mumbles, groaning at the taste of your cum and his mixing together on his tongue. “Just let me take care of you.”
You stretch your arms above your head while he eats your boypussy out like he’s a starved man. His beard wet with your juices as your writhe on the bed. He doesn’t even tease, just intently cleaning and eating you out. You moan weakly for him, voice hoarse from servicing the Sevika and now fucking Vander.
You pinch your brows, squirming on the bed and gasping airily as Vander eases you into your nth orgasm of the day.
When you reach that peak, he eases you back down from the clouds. Carefully stroking over your thighs as he watches you catch you breath.
This is where you belong, he thinks. On his bed, legs spread and boycunt leaking with his cum; his name coming out your lips and his hands on your thighs. Vander presses kisses up your hips and chest, finally giving you a kiss on the lips.
“You alright?”
“Mmm.”
He chuckles and you trust him enough to slip your eyes closed.
“Just rest,” he tells you. “I’ve got you.”
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Quitting was a sordid affair. There'd been a few passive aggressive claims from your madame about you crawling back and you calling her a cunt. Despite that, the both of you still acknowledge each other when she does walk into The Last Drop — it's hard to hate the woman who'd been generous enough to teach you everything you needed to know to survive.
The month that passed had been smooth sailing. You've gotten closer to Vander and his kids, even Benzo's little protege Ekko had come around to you. Which interests Silco, so you get close to Benzo. When Powder needs help with carrying stuff to his shop, you help. The guy was loyal to a fault and stubborn just like Silco had mentioned.
The first lesson you'd been taught in your ex-profession had been not to get feelings involved. Don't even dare to associate with customers who begin to get emotionally invested — it was bad for business in the long run. Sex isn't complicated but once you tangle in feelings? Bad mix for you. But when it came to listening in and relaying information, that career devastating choice is a powerful weapon. To turn trust into a dagger and thrust it under their ribs, tilting the blade up to hear that poor sucker suffer with each inhale.
So why is it so different this time?
How could you tuck in Powder at night and then sneak off to meet Silco in the docks to tell him what you'd overheard from Vander, Benzo, and Sheriff Grayson's discussions?
Were you that heartless?
Revolution is messy, Silco had once told you. It takes blood, sweat, tears, guts, and more guts. You don't ask for permission and you certainly don't ask for forgiveness after. Violence was necessary for change. Vander had lost sight of that, gotten soft.
But isn't it too cruel to play with his heart this way?
Would he love you if he knew what you were fighting for?
Would he condemn you for how you want respect?
He'd given you free roam of his home. Let his kids get attached to you. Gave you a job. All because he loves you.
"Is this really okay?" Vi says, which pulls you out of your thoughts. Your pupils shrink, turning to face her with your brows near your hairline.
Right. You were at the river with the kids.
The water gleamed and glimmered with metal wreckage in the bottom. There was also the unmistakable sheen of oil in it, but it honestly just added colour to the teal. The kids had breathed in worse, besides, it wasn't everyday they get to swim and just act their age.
"What? It's harmless," you snicker out, smoothly recovering as you lean back on your hands. She frowns, standing next to you on the banks. Vi constantly looks up at every little noise. Even if her head didn't turn, it was like the tip of her ears would just flick up like a vigil cat.
"Vi, it's fine. We're allowed to be here," you peer down at Claggor teaching Powder how to squirt out water between their palms while Mylo is on the shore. Wet and a bit glum looking as he shakes off the water from his hair.
"It's good to get a bit of sunlight," you tell Vi as you swing your legs over and smile as Powder accidentally shot a stream of water up Claggor's nose with amazing accuracy. Mylo laughs and Claggor splashes the water back over him. Her furrowed brow softening the tiniest bit.
It quickly returns as she turns her attention to the tall buildings with their golden ornaments and expensive detailing. You lean on your hands, nudging her leg with your elbow to pull her back.
"Hey, bet if you aim just right you can splash Mylo, Claggor, and Powder when you dive." She raises a brow, smirking at you.
Vi and you didn't have the best beginnings. She knew what your profession was and Mylo didn't exactly help with his long tales of the 'rumours' he's heard. Vander could protect himself, she knows this, but she got prickly when you had unceremoniously moved in during your landlord-nephew fiasco. Over some time though, she finds herself liking your more cynical nature. Although you acknowledge that they're kids, you also give them more credit than most adults do. It's nice feeling respected as a person.
"Hah! What are you betting?" You open your mouth to put an offer of some coins when the yell of an enforcer makes you twist your head and instantly clamber onto your feet.
"You! Stay there!" He yells, his blue uniform gleaming under the light. It's so rare seeing them all armoured up above ground. The sight should mean that you were well within your rights to be here, if he wore the armour that meant you were close enough to the Lanes to get him uncomfortable.
"C'mon, let's go! Let's go!" Vi nods and instantly hurries to gather her siblings attention, Claggor lifting Powder out the water and rushing to the shore while Mylo gathers their clothes. You know the enforcers would take some time climbing down — especially with his dumbass protective wear — so you use those precious minutes to ensure every one of them were ahead of you.
"(Y/N)!" Powder and Mylo call out when they hear you yell behind them. Vi skids to a stop, eyes wide when you find yourself pressed to the brick wall.
"Just go! Go!" she hesitates and you grit your teeth. "GO!"
The enforcer turns his gaze to them, his harsh breathing against your ear making you shudder. Vi is helpless as she grabs Mylo and Powder's wrist to tug them forward.
"We didn't do anything wrong!" you seethe out as you feel him patting you down.
"Not loiterin', not skulking, we were just - Fuck! Take it easy!" he kicks your ankles apart and you try to spin around only to get backhanded by your faceless attacker. He covers your eyes with his gloved hand, moving your head here and there as though he was inspecting you.
"Yeah, you're him," his mask makes his voice sounded inhumane. A machine-like quality that zaps out any bit of remorse or compassion from him. "You fuckin' slut."
Crumpling to the floor, you quickly cover your head and curl up when you see his boots flying in your direction.
Powder can only see glimpses of this violence as she turns her head back. Vi tells her to focus but she can't. Because all she sees is you on the floor, torso bare because you'd been swimming, bare foot too; hair wet, completely defenseless. Your grunts of pain echoing through the tunnel and your eyes having relief in them as the kids narrowly escape.
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"What happened?" is Vander's first question when they all tumbled into The Last Drop. Instantly straightening up at Vi's distraught expression. It was still too early for anyone to have stumbled in, even by the Lanes standard, so he gave them all his attention.
"Vi?"
"We - we were just - we were just swimming," Mylo breathes through his nose, knees nearly buckling at the fright and rush of adrenaline. Their run through the underground, barefoot, and wet had certainly brought enough attention as is. Vander ushered them to get in, locking the front doors as they all suddenly find their voices.
"He said it was safe, they just, they grabbed him!" Vi is beginning to stomp, and Claggor nods along.
"(Y/N)?" Vander asks and Powder nods, eyes brimming with tears as she turns her attention to the doors. You should be bursting through it right now. Why weren't you?
"We were just swimming," Mylo repeats. Vander grabs his jacket. "I'm going with you!" Vi announces.
"Your feet are bleeding," he points out. "All you'd do is get in the way. Everyone of you stay here. I'll fix this."
Powder watches on as Vander rushes out the front door. Vi is still arguing, attempting to follow along either way but whatever shit she got trapped in her skin causes her to wince and falter. Claggor catches her, attempting to guide her to the chairs while Mylo is repeating the same thing.
"We were just swimming."
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Topsiders had a weird thing for grudges. You understood that better than most. Eye for an eye and all that. But for Topsiders? It seemed rejection was worthy of a grudge. When you come to from the haze, you're on the wooden floors of a familiar face's house. His figure comes in fours, then twos, and finally come together in one.
Mr. Erikson. From that dumbass toga event at the brothel.
He's much more hideous in brighter lights. His plump cheeks and beady eyes more prominent. You cough, attempting to get up onto your feet only to be kept down as a familiar boot presses down on your shoulder. The bruise that was already blooming there made you grit your teeth while he harshly stomped down. Erikson winces, waving his hand to make the enforcer stop.
"Not so rough now. If he's too broken, it'll be painful to look at."
Glaring venomously at him as you stubbornly peel yourself off the floor and onto your staggering feet. The world spins but you stomp your foot to get some sense of equilibrium. There's a pounding in your head that pierces through your eyes and there's blood in your mouth; but all you can feel right now is the numbness in your limbs and the rapid pulse in your neck,
"I named you to your madame. The fox with the sweet (S/C) skin and pretty lips. The boy with the tightest cunt I've ever felt. You were there at a previous party, my other son's birthday."
You spit out some blood, wiping it away with the back of your hand as you sway in your spot. He curls his nose but continues.
"I had been hoping to give you as a gift to my youngest, Troy. But then you left, and when I asked for you again your madame wouldn't tell me just where you went. "
"You fucking kidnapped me because I wouldn't fuck you and your son on his birthday?"
The incredulity of the entire situation makes you choke out a laugh. Even with your spinning vision, this office was clearly that of someone who made decent money. With its mahogany bookshelves and leatherbound covers. Some books here were probably older than your ass, much more priceless too. Hell, you bet even that stupid fucking nameplate with the name Stephen Erikson carved into the gold had costs more than you.
"She said you quit. It was very hard to find you, considering the masks and all." He sniffles derisively. Off-put by your brash display. You were so nice and tender at the brothel, now you were acting like a completely different person.
"There's other guys with cunts, you geriatric chaser —" The enforcer backhands you again and it sends you flying to a shelf, a few books tumbling down while you desperately try not to fall on your ass.
"Troy," the old man reprimands with a drawl. He turns his attention back to you; "We'll pay you handsomely for a night."
You shake your head, digging your nails into the wood as your vision spins again. Troy, that shit, takes off his helmet and he's much more honest compared to his father; his fetish for pain was evident. Perhaps Stephen hadn't filed his teeth like you'd thought. Maybe they were just made to grind bones to dust, prolong their preys pain because unlike a predator with their fangs these teeth aren't for a merciless death.
Clearly he had learned this from his father who was enabling this behaviour. He probably taught him everything he needed to know anyways. You pant as you notice the painted family portrait on the wall of the study. Mr. Erikson and his three sons, all wearing their Enforcer's badge with pride. You recognized them all, each stupid event flashing through your head and each memory makes you more and more nauseous.
"I'm a fucking bartender now, I don't do that shit anymore" you growl out. Stephen sighs, leaning back in his leather tuft chair, looking completely bored by this entire insane exchange.
"Troy tells me he found you with a few kids. Yours?" When you say nothing in reply, he takes your seething silence as a yes. "Following your mothers footsteps, are you?" He shakes a bag of coins. Then tosses it onto the floor, golden pieces spilling out in front of you.
"You can work your ass off. Make life worth living for them."
There was a knock at the door. You waste no time and yell but get the breath knocked out of you as Troy swiftly pins you to the book shelf, a gloved hand over your mouth as he holds your hips in place with his own. Your skin prickles, just his weight on you has your stomach feeling sick.
"Who the hell is that?" Troy hisses at his father, his blue eyes panicked. The old man, as cool as a cucumber, simply tells the person on the other side to state their business.
"It's just the bloody maid," he scoffs out.
But the maid does not state their business. It's just pure silence on the other end until there's suddenly pounding. It makes the old man stand and Troy loosens his grip so you bring your knee between his legs. As he curls over you shove him away and retreat into a corner just as the door bursts open.
You recognize them. Ran, Lock, a few other nameless goons who you don't quite remember, and in the center of it all?
"Silco," you move and you fall to your knees. His expression darkens. The men and women fill the room, crowding Troy and his father to the other end while Silco makes his way to you. He offers a hand and you take it, leaning against him as he looks you over. Your lip was cut and one side of your face was scratched up, bruised and sore. The fact that you were dressed for a swim, torso bare, and feet scratched up from being dragged, made his ire raise.
"They did this to you?" He shrugged his coat off, and slipped it around your shoulders. You drew the front closed, nodding as you tuck your head under his chin.
"I wouldn't fuck them and they got pissy," you whisper to him. Silco growls, the rumbling noise soothing you just like Vander's chuckle would. He cups your face in his hand, his pinkie sliding under your jaw and his thumb across your cheek.
"What is this? Who are you?" Stephen stands, reaching for something on his desk but getting slammed face first onto the hard wood. There's a loud crackling noise that follows and you flinch out of shock. Silco simply guides your head to his neck, one hand smoothing over the back of your head and sighing in relief as his palms lift with no crimson.
"Dad!" Troy's yell gets cut short when he's forced onto his knees. There was a scuffle, fists meeting face and knees slamming themselves into his diaphragm. A small smile twitches to your face as your eyes slip close. Silco squeezes you, jolting you a bit.
"Stay awake, come. Sit."
Silco moves casually. Setting you to lay down on the lounge chair in the study, taking his coat off your shoulders to instead drape it over your. He pulls out his handkerchief to wipe away your blood while he kneels next to you. He takes his sweet time with you, his men keeping the pigs still as they both find themselves pinned down.
"I'd heard an enforcer had been snooping around the brothel. Asking for someone, demanding even" His voice makes your heart calm down, adrenaline ebbing away as he presses down on the cut on your eyebrow. The pain keeps you awake, but he still purses his lips at your hiss. Silco stands up, sighing softly. A kid comes to your side, offering you a flask of water. He's careful as he tilts your head up, watching intently as you sip it down.
"You're a proud man, aren't you Stephen?" Silco admires the family portrait, taking it the details of each face before he turns his attention to the table of trinkets below it. "A family of enforcers. Protecting the city you love." Silco tilts his head as he hears them struggle once again.
"While the city you constantly take from suffer from your greed."
"Fuckin' trencher," Troy spits out. His cheek pressed on by the heel of a boot. His blue eyes were shaking with indignation. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Fissure Folk, Sump Rat, Undercity scum," Silco answers. He steps over Troy's head and jerks his chin to signal Lock to step away from Stephen. He does and Stephen inhales, his entire body shaking as he coughs and coughs. The impressive table creaked under the old man's rattling breathes.
Ran brings Silco the fallen leather tuft chair and he crosses his legs as he sits.
"I'm sure you boast about being a near native to the undercity. With how often you visit our brothels with your men and sons. Using our bodies for your sick desires then beating it when you have the uniform on. Pretending to be a saint as your city fills your pockets. As if you've actually done anything worthwhile."
Stephen continues to hack, wheezing and whimpering. Every breath he took felt like a blunt blade was scratching up his lungs. His ribs were broken, he was sure of it.
"Yet, despite how many hours you've spent with our men and women, you still fail to understand the most important thing about us." Silco spreads his legs, elbows on his knees as he leans in so Stephen was looking right into his eyes.
"We protect our own."
"Please," Stephen's voice sounded strained. Like air escaping out of a broken pipe, the pitch ear grating. "I'm sorry."
Silco openly observes Stephen's splotchy red face. Cheeks full and plump, his brows trimmed and his dyed hair shining unnaturally cherry red. The family potrait was recent, but the artist had covered up their earlier renditions of Stephen's wrinkles while his blonde sons all looked their current age.
"No, you aren't." He states dryly, motioning for the man to slam Stephen back onto the table, him howling in pain just as Ran switches the radio on.
A jaunty tune plays. The singer sighing about puppy love as the melodic background singers and stringed instruments accompany his voice. He leans back in the chair, nodding as Stephen's captor wrings his hands back.
"But you will be."
"No!" Troy twists and bucks like an animal. His eyes wide with horror. As if he hadn't intended to strip you of all your dignity just moments ago. The sight of that fear on their face, that dawn of realization; even when they don't realize that they're only getting what they deserve, it soothes a part of Silco's soul.
"No?" Silco repeats.
"What do you want?" Troy is pleading now. The sight of his old man's hand pulled behind his body, ready to be broken in half, causing him enough distress for tears to fill his eyes.
"We'll give you anything!"
"Troy!" Stephen wheezes out in retaliation. Silco looks at the golden nameplate on his desk and scoffs. Anything? This house wasn't in any impressive neighbourhood. The portrait maker had been shoddy in their cover-up. The trinkets had a fine sheet of dust across them and the books weren't kept in the best conditions. Their maid had been an old woman with her back hunched, making her shrink down to the height of a pre-teen. Tired, slow at work; not the best money could get.
They weren't rich by Piltover standards. It's why they go to the Undercity for their parties. Things were cheaper there and get even cheaper when you flash your badges.
"You've nothing I want." He says simply, making sure Troy felt that pit of dread consume him entirely.
"We didn't know, we didn't know he was yours" Troy squirms, but the thug above him with the lazy eye simply stomped down on him harder. Knocking the air out of him and making him bite down on his tongue hard enough it fills his mouth with blood.
"No, because all that mattered was he was a trencher and he'd rejected your money. So predictable."
Lock smirks as Silco jerks his chin again and begins pulling Stephen's arm the wrong way. He screeches like a sewer mouse. You find yourself coughing as you laugh, reaching a hand up to cover your eyes at the noises. The song kept playing, the contrast of its sweet melody and words to the scenario before you simply adding more fuel to your delirious humour.
"PLEASE!" The youngest son doesn't even try to fight when his enforcer badge does nothing to intimidate others. When he's in a room full of people who wanted nothing more than crush him, he tucks tail and shows off his underbelly.
You try to hear what Silco says next, but the headache begins to grow stronger and the blonde kid next to you panics when he notices your eyes fluttering close. "Hey," he hisses, drawing Ran's attention as they kneel by your side.
Their voices become a blur and unconsciousness beckons you so sweetly. As hard as you try to fight, you find yourself sinking into that dark embrace, floating into nothingness as the pain shrinks away.
There's an incessant purring next to you. Just under your left armpit, warm and comfortable. It's the only thing you can feel and hear, your senses still dulled. While your mind runs a million miles a second, your limbs feel heavy and locked; as if they'd turned into lead. You're trapped in your own mind. Your eyelids feel like bricks and as your eyes move under them, left to right and right to left, you feel his hand slip into yours.
"Easy now," that voice, that honeyed drawl. You breathe sharply through your nose and he squeezes your hand. "I'm here. Easy."
Silco lifts the darkness from your eyes and your vision takes its damn sweet time returning to you. You see him though. Shifting from a blurry figure to that face you adored so much. He offers a ghost of a smile, bringing your knuckles to his lips as he sees the wildness in your eyes tame itself. The damp rag across your eyes is placed back into the bowl.
"You're alright. The Doctor says your adrenaline just ran out," he pushes you down gently when you try to sit up. It was for the best, considering how much your body was aching. Not even in the sexy, satisfied, way. You wince, grunting when you fall back onto the mattress. The purring machine next to you lifts its head and you raise a brow at the furless cat. It yawns, looking a bit disgruntled at your movement but stubbornly staying put as it curls up.
Breathing ball sack aside, you ask Silco what happened.
"What do you remember?" he lets your hand go to squeeze out the water from the rag, wiping away the cold sweat on your neck. "You giving me your coat, then some girl squealing, but don't remember much after."
Your retelling makes him scoff, clearly amused. The sight of your bruised lips and face twists his mouth into a frown. "I should've been there sooner."
"Don't start with that, come on." You wince as your sides pulsed in pain, a boot shaped bruise already beginning to darken. "How'd you even find out about the Eriksons?"
"The kids were running down the Lanes barefoot and wet - " you gasp and cut him off.
"The kids!" You lurch up, the cat growling in discontent as it sprung up into an arched back pose from the sudden movement. Regret is instant and striking, your muscles screaming in pain and head pulsing once again. Silco steadies you by your shoulders, brows furrowing.
"Fuh - fuck, are they alright? He mentioned seeing them, Silco. Tell me those assholes are - "
"They're dealt with."
His tone makes you pause, you peer at him through your eyelashes. "Did you...?" he smiles but shakes his head.
"Him and his father are more useful alive. But a few bones were broken. He was in the academy with Sheriff Grayson's second in command, Marcus."
Silco leans in, pressing his forehead with yours. Uncaring of the dampness of your forehead or your hair. The tip of his nose brushes agaisnt your cheek and you flutter yours eyes at the feeling.
"So he's in your pocket?"
"I was worried," he dismisses the questions so blatantly you wring out a breathless laugh. "Your madame said she had a feeling who the enforcer was, if it weren't for her..."
"I would've been fine," you cup his marred cheek, allowing him to slip his arms around you. "I'm tough."
No, you're not, Silco wants to say. The fever you've developed from the stress and cold and the wounds on your body — you were a statue made off jagged metal but it didn't mean you couldn't get scratched, bent, melted. You would have survived but that didn't mean you should be going through such injustices.
"I plan on staying here until we're free," you promise to him as you slip your eyes closed. "I wanna see Zaun with my own eyes."
You feel him lean in closer and then his lips are on yours. Your brows knit together, the cut there stinging but you don't mind it. Silco kisses you like he wants to devour you. The heat he brings is like a glowing dagger; the silver steaming and glowing orange from the fire. Cutting you and cauterizing the wound at the same time. Painful, seeringly painful, but not deadly.
You part your lips, twisting your head as he clutches the back of your neck. The calloused pads of his hands making the hairs on the back of your neck stand, applauding him almost. You clutch at his vest, whispering his name as he tangles his tongue with yours.
Feeling you, holding you; Silco can't remember the last time he's felt this light and grounded at the same time. He was truly worried, you know. His heart dropping to his stomach when Deckard informed him about Vander's brats rushing through in complete panic. It was a random act of violence. Piltie's finest once again throwing their weight around.
You lean back and he chases. Your teeth clack together and you wince, so he kneads at your nape and lowers you back on the bed.
You should stop. This wasn't right. Your grip on Silco's vest loosens as you remember sweet Vander. Whose kisses felt like burning smoke going down your throat, filling your body with warmth that is entirely too phantom-like and too suffocating all the same. You shouldn't go further, you shouldn't. Silco slips a hand to your chest, pulling your thin blanket down and you wince, pulling away from the kiss to gasp. Silco and you pant heavily, the heat dissipating the longer you do.
"I'm sorry," he shakes his head and assures you it's alright.
"How long have I been out?"
"A couple of hours. He's been looking for you. His accomplices too." Most patrons of The Last Drop had been anxiously waiting to hear your return. We take care of our own. Those just weren't pretty words. Benzo had told them to calm down, saying Vander will handle it but it was evident that a pin could drop and they'd turn over every little rock to find you.
Their respect for Vander's leadership is the only thing holding them back. It's holding you back too, he can tell. Ever since you'd moved in, you stray away from his touches. You've grown a sort of affection for Vander. Just like he had.
"Shit, I should head back then." Silco nods, helping you sit up. "The boy he says he's at the edge of the Lanes. Asking around."
It makes your heart flutter.
Ran looks you over when you walk up to them, a question in their eyes.
'You okay?'
"Could be better," you tell them. Dressed in an oversized shirt and your pants from earlier. They nod, reaching to slip their hand under your arm and you wince.
"Thanks for this and the save," they shrug and look ahead.
'Don't mention it.'
When you do spot Vander, your face brightens up. But Ran frowns, suddenly hiding behind a couple of crates. You don't quite get it until you see blue.
Vander was talking to an enforcer. Not just any enforcer either, the fucking sheriff.
"Grayson, I'm not askin' for much here," he growls out. She looks away, shaking her head. "You're not giving me much to go off on, Vander. The kids say he got taken by an enforcer for no reason in broad daylight but they can't even tell you any more details?"
"They were terrified, I'm sorry if they didn't come t'have a chat with 'em!"
Vander's muscles were tense, shoulders drawn and jaw clenched. He looked exhausted. His hair tousled from him constantly running his hands through them. The greys in his beard looking more prominent all of a sudden.
"Grayson, please."
Please.
He's begging for help from an enforcer.
You dislodge from Ran, giving them a nod as thanks before you limp towards them. The sound of your uneven footsteps makes their head snap your way. Vander whispers your name, then says it again with more volume as he rushes to hold you. He scans you, from top to bottom as he holds you in his arms.
"Shit, shit, you're okay." You're not, but your anger does calm the tiniest bit as he pulls you into a hug. Grayson looks at you and from over Vander's shoulders, you glare daggers into her. That fucking uniform, that breathing mask hung around her neck.
You still hear it. Vander pleading for help from her.
"Are you alright?" Sheriff Grayson says, coming close as Vander lets you go. You push him away, fists trembling as you walk towards her. Her eyes harden, lips pursing at your unrestrained strife.
"Screw you," you hiss, digging your pointer finger to her chest. "Screw everything you stand for."
Vander calls out your name, placing a hand on your shoulder that you shrug off. Even when your life had been in danger. Even when he could've done something. Vander remained a docile pet to Topside, begging for his masters help like a good lap dog.
Your lips tremble, tears filling your eyes.
"I'm here for you, (Y/N). If you could just tell me the name of the enforcer who'd done this to you, I can help you," Grayson tries to reason. Even when you were patched up, it was clear you'd been smacked around.
"It doesn't matter," you seethe out. "I just want to help, I can't if you don't tell me," you shake your head and walk past her.
"Fuck you."
"(Y/N)," Vander offers Grayson a glance but she shakes her head, turning away as he rushes after you. She watches the both of you, the anger in your posture so evident it makes her mouth twist.
Vander is quiet as you get inside the elevator. As it rumbles to life, you grip onto the railings instead of him and he tires to soothe you but you flinch away from him. "Darlin'" he places a hand on your shoulder and you spin, gnashing your teeth as you yell.
"Sheriff Grayson!? You went to her!?"
"What else was I meant to do?" He grits out.
"Fight! Vander! Fight back!" you throw a fist at his chest, he lets you.
"I was fucking terrified, do you - do you know how fucked it was!? He grabbed me off the damn street! He fucking -" you inhaled sharply as your ribs screamed in pain. If you closed your eyes you could hear the thudding noise of his feet flying to your body.
Vander feels his heart drop and he tilted your head up. His large hand cupping your face as tears streamed down your cheeks. You're running hot, fever returning as your emotions ran high.
"I was so scared, Vander." Your sob pierced through his chest. Nothing had compared to that pain of letting you down. Nothing. Not when the skin of his knuckles ripped apart or when enforcer bullets whizzed past his ears and made his hearing tune into a high pitched ring or when he'd been stabbed. He gathered you in his arms, despite your weak pushes and protests. He holds you to his chest and tucks your head under his chin, just holding you there.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry."
Heads raised the second the doors opened. You blinked in surprise at the sight of the usual patrons. A blue blur rushed towards you and you grunted at her tight hug but smile down at her.
"Hey, Powder..." you pressed her face to your stomach, rubbing her back as she sobbed in relief. Vi approaches you next, showing a rare moment of softness as she slips under your open arm. Milo and Claggor rush in as well and you wince a bit but just laugh softly. Ekko sighed out in relief, Benzo's eyes softening at the sight.
"You all worried about me?" you give the patrons a coy smile that they scoff at but the relief was evident. "Cut the bullshit and stop smiling," Sevika says, crossing her arms. "What the fuck happened?"
Vander drapes his jacket around your shoulder. "Story for another time. How about some free drinks, yeah?" the mood lightens up a bit, despite the question hanging heavily in the air.
Powder is glued to you, sniffling as she clings but you don't mind. "C'mon, let's go down," you tell the kids and they nod. Milo rambles about what he'd done if you weren't caught off-guard. Vi shaking his head at him while Claggor just helped you down the stairs.
"He alright?" Benzo asks Vander when he comes around to the bar. Derek waves Vander away, pouring everyone a drink and Vander nods appreciatively his way as he sits. "No, he isn't" he confesses, glaring at the bottles of liquor, at his reflection in them.
"Fight! Vander! Fight back!"
Benzo slides him his pipe and Vander simply holds it in his hands. The look in your eyes. That disappointment etched into every line on your face. The rage that flowed down your cheeks. Vander brought the apparatus to his lips, lighting a match and inhaling to calm his shot nerves.
"He'll be alright. He's the tough sort, yeah?" Benzo places a heavy hand on Vander's shoulder, tilting his frame down a bit. "He was scared, Benzo."
"He was scared and I couldn't do anythin'."
"Powder, I'm okay," you reassured for the fifth time in a row. You don't dare try to peel her away from you but you do make an effort to calm her trembling frame. Poor thing was shaking like a damn leaf as she laid besides you on her bottom bunk. Vi smiles wryly, just watching the scene with more emotion than a kid her age should have. Ekko peers down from the top bunk, asking if the cut brow hurt and you just scrunch your nose and laugh.
"Nah, come on. I'm not a wimp, Little Man."
Mylo nudges Ekko, echoing your statement in his own words. Claggor appears, holding a cup of some warm water and offering it to you. "Here, you must be tired," you thank him and hitch Powder up with you as you sit up a bit.
"You guys, I really am okay."
Powder just tightened her grip around you. All she could hear was the sounds of that scene. You sprawled onto the floor, half-dressed, bare foot; a fully armoured enforcer above you with his legs swinging back as you yell at her to go.
"Don't leave," she whispers against your stomach and you brush your fingers through her bangs. "I won't, baby. I'm not going anywhere."
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"Where are you four going?" they stiffen up, twisting their heads to look at you as you leaned against the railing leading to Vander's office and bedroom. You were dressed in a large shirt that reached your knees, eyes still puffy from sleep as you held a mug of something warm. Mylo gawks, mouth gaping like a fish as he tries to find the words; hands coming to scratch the back of his head. Claggor just stiffens up like a board and Powder hides slightly behind him.
Vi lowers her hood, looking a bit smug. "A morning walk," she says cooly. You arch a brow, bringing the rim of the mug to your lips. Last night had been a busy night for the bar, a few scuffles ignited because some dumbass didn't know when to cut himself off when he needed to. So Vander was fully conked out and you wanted him to take as long as he needed to recuperate.
"Mhm," you glance at each of their faces for a moment then sigh and close your eyes. "What's the job?"
Vi's shoulders fall. Damn you and your perceptiveness. It was unnerving how good you were at reading people at times.
"Little Man gave a tip," that woke you up a bit more. "You sure you can pull it off?" Vi nods firmly, her shoulders squaring confidently.
"We're ready."
"Stay safe and stay out of sight," they grin up at you and rush out through the back. Powder gives you a wave that you return before silence washes over the empty bar. You crack your neck, grunting as the satisfying popping noises echo then make your way down the stairs.
You prepare to set-up for the noon crowd. Leisurely moving around as you swept and wiped down everything. When Vander does lumbers down, he gathers you in his arms by wrapping them around your waist. Those damned arms. You swear his bicep was as big as your damn head.
"Mornin'" you chuckle as he rubs his beard to your cheek. "You weren't b'sides me, not a very good start" you roll your eyes at him, patting his arm so he lets you go and you can turn around to look at him.
"Kids awake?"
"They left to get breakfast," you turn and plant a kiss on his lips, smiling as he groans into it. "I made you coffee, c'mon. Gotta start the day right." Vander groans again, firmly cupping your ass in his hand and lifting you onto a table. You laugh, glancing at the windows but he simply blocks your body from view.
"If we're talking about starting the day right..." "Vander!"
"You said the kids are out, right?" You squeal when he brings his face to your neck, moaning as he kisses over the previous hickeys he'd left. He brings your crotches together and you chew on your lips as you feel his morning wood against your clothed cunt.
"Fine, let's start the day right." You feel him grin against your neck.
“Atta’ boy.”
Huck is chipper today. Greeting you with that flush on his cheek that never fails to remind you of a blushing maiden. "Closing that deal, Huck baby?" you asked, smiling sweetly his way. He sputters but nods, asking for a pint to sweeten the deal.
"Coming right up" Vander presses a hand to your waist as he walks behind you, asking if you could wipe down a table and you nod. Sevika bumps her knee to yours as you clean the table next to hers.
"Is he a damn vacuum?" she says as she eyes the hickeys on you. "You jealous, Sev?" her nose crinkles at your teasing but she doesn't deny it. She just laughs at it, turning her attention back to her cards. You lean down, making a grimace as your stare at her deck that makes the others start double guessing.
Who were they to believe? Sevika's calm expression or your grimace?
She huffs through her nose, watching your profile from the corner of her eyes. Though that's cut short by the tense scene in Huck's corner. You straighten up, brows furrowing as you watch it unfold.
Though everything goes smoothly once Vander sends them a simple message, something about that interaction makes your stomach twist. The news about an explosion happening Topside didn't help ease this pit of snakes and they only knot themselves into worse shape when the kids walk in.
Vander and you share a look as he walks to their room, you can't leave the bar unattended so you trusted him to ask. But this feeling just wouldn't leave you. When Vander pops back put with a sack over his shoulder and Claggor following behind, you slip out the bar to stop in front of your boy.
“Who did this?” Claggor shifts under your gaze, trying to cover his bruise with his hand. Pretending to scratch at his cheek. “One of us,” Vander answers for him. That brings up more questions than it does answers. So Claggor just shrugs.
“It was some blonde kid and his goons. Said something about us crossing his turf.”
You frown but let them pass after ruffling Claggor’s hair. Turning your attention back to the bar. The rest of the night goes by smoothly enough, a few verbal scuffs but nothing you couldn’t handle. When Vander returns, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“What’d Benzo say?” he tightened his grip then sighed. It was a heavy one and you make a questioning noise.
“What? What happened?”
Vander poured both of you a shot and silently handed you the glass. You take it but the frown does not disappear. He clinks your glasses then throws his head back, you copy his motion. Not grimacing as it burns down your throat, simply staring Vander down as that feeling in your gut worsens.
“They need their slab of meat for the explosion today.”
Deckard bumps into you as he gets escorted out by Lock. Who does not waste anytime in flirting with you: “Hey, hot stuff,” Lock calls out and you scoff. “Keep on dreaming, bud.”
“Every night, baby!” his reply makes you smile, shaking your head as you open the door to the lab. The squealing pink vines on the floor never failing to make you shudder as you avoid stepping on them. You know they’re not technically alive but you swear, every creak and whine this rundown factory makes is just these things making their way out.
“Ah, (Y/N),” your smile tightens. “Hey, Doc.” he shares a glance between Silco and you then walks to his station. In his own way telling you to just ignore his presence. Silco continues to stare at the rat cage, entranced at the squealing and yowling. The splatter of blood against the glass makes you flinch but you stand next to Silco and pale.
“What the hell is that?”
“An upper hand,” Silco traces the planes of your face with his eyes. The micro expressions you display — twitches, spasms, tugs. Even when contorted in disgust, you were a marvel. Especially when backdropped by the creatures of the depths. The speckles of light piercing through the water just add to your allure. He knows you’re not fond of his affections, not without feeling guilt, but he reaches for your hand and presses your knuckles to his lips.
You steel your emotions, expressions turning neutral. As if you could hide the way your lips quiver to hide that grin.
“Silco. Did you ask Deckard to jump my kids?” The softness of the moment is broken by the accusation. He lets go of your hand and glances at the savage rat tearing into the corpse of the cat.
“I told the boy to simply observe. I gain nothing from hurting them.”
You purse your lips, crossing your arms as you walk away from the gruesome view. You glance at the table, picking up the gun-shaped needle device, testing its weight in your hands.
“You doubt me?” You frown at the tone he takes. “No, I don’t.”
Because no matter how you spin it, Silco was right. There was no scenario where Deckard trying to beat the shit out of your kids gave him an upper hand in the grand scheme of things.
Silco watches your fingers tinker with his device. Lost deep in thought while you flip it over and trace your touch down every scratch or bump it had. It's on the tip of your tongue, he sees the way your jaw is clenched. How your shoulders are tensed up despite wearing that thick jacket, hood drawn up to hide your face.
A bitterness ebbs its way to Silco's rationale. That look in your eyes, that contemplativeness. It was doubt.
"I won't be able to give you an answer if you don't ask," he turns around to the underwater scene instead. The sight of you weakens him too much. Silco can't allow you to be a distraction, no when the pieces are falling just where they need to.
"There's nothing to ask." You place the device down and slip your eyes closed. No matter what he says, how he tries to reassure you; it wouldn't change what was already set in motion.
"You said the kids would stay out of it, right?"
"Yes."
He wouldn't look at you as he says it. His figure casting a long shadow on the scuffed floors of the lab and the hairs on the back of your neck pricks. The Doctor calls out your name and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from Silco to tilt your head questioningly at him.
"It's getting late. Best to get back before suspicions raise." The unrest was worsening. The Undercity folk have been walking on a tight rope made off steel for years now. The rope digging viciously into your feet, slicking up the material while you held your hands out to your side. This so called 'peace' that the Topsiders called it was laughable.
With how hard the enforcers were hitting now, that tightrope walker's knees were beginning to buckle as their blood gushes beneath them.
You openly glare at their masked heads, nails digging into the wooden crate of goods. Waiting for them to pass you before you stepped out from the tight alleyway. You worry for a moment about your kids. They were in a more secluded part of town, in their little hideout and you hope they're keeping their heads down like Vander had told them too.
A pair of boots appear in your vision, that obnoxious mechanical breathing lifting the edge of your hood. You scowl, lifting your head to glare into those bug-like lenses.
He says your name, you can tell his face is scrunched up as if even muttering it annoys him. You curl your nose, standing your ground. "What the hell do you want?" Troy scoffs, his gloves creaking when his hands curl into fists.
"Just being thorough in my search, we're looking for four sump rats."
You glance over his shoulder, noticing a few other enforcers asking others who do little to hide their anger. Topside really doesn't know how much restraint it takes to continue this 'peace' and they still insist on poking the bear.
"A councilor's kid almost got hurt."
"So they need four kids to get their lick back?"
One kid almost got hurt and Topside is asking for justice. Yet they turn a blind eye to the kids who were breathing in toxins and starve day after day. Because it's never been about unity, it's about subservience.
Troy glances at your crate and you scoff. "Piss of, Piltie," you shoulder through him and Troy lets you. His fathers arm would never bend right anymore so he knew better than to put his hands on you again. But he still glared at the back of your head, burning holes into you. You turn, walking backwards and lifting one hand to flip him off before you make your way back home.
Sevika's voice is the first thing you hear when you walk in. You place the crate down, slipping your hood down and glancing at the small crowd of people. Vander regards you with a nod and you stand besides him.
"We should hit them back. We got the numbers to beat them." Sevika's words makes a few head nod, soft cheers of agreement echoing through the room.
"Yeah. Let's teach them what it means to mess with us." Another voice says, you cross your arms, leaning your hip against the bar. Sevika is looking right at you, tilting her head at the apprehension on your face.
"You sure that's what you want? We crossed that bridge once before, we all know how that ended." Vander is trying to reason with an angry crowd. An exhausted one. You do nothing to hide your frown at his words. He pretends not to see it.
"You're just protecting your kids," she retorts. A vein jumps in Vander's neck, his jaw clenching the tiniest bit.
"I'm protecting our people. I'd do the same for any one of you. We look out for each other. It's the way it's always been. This will blow over. We just need to stand together."
His sentiments were noble. But the tightrope was beginning to tremble and the walker on top of it was now desperately crouched to grip at it with their hands instead.
"The Vander I knew, the one who built the underground, wouldn't be afraid to fight."
Vander stands and you feel a smidge of fear in your heart. He was pulled taut, all of this stress showing through the tightness in his posture. He towered over Sevika, a rumbling growl building in his throat.
"Do I look afraid?"
Sevika doesn't falter. She scoffs, meeting his challenging gaze with no issue.
"No. You look weak."
Marcus walks in with a purpose. His men following behind him making sure to puff their chests with each stride in. The Last Drop patrons find their fingers twitching, readying itself to grab at the blade near their hips. You level your gaze with Troy, he meets it head on and in a blink-and-you'll-miss motion he glances at the stairs leading down.
You straighten up, heart jumping to your throat.
Marcus' arrogance is like rubbing salt into an already festering wound. He doesn't need to say but he does it anyways and your little tightrope walker is now gone. Just two poles standing in the darkness, with no evidence of the rope or the walker ever existing.
You rush down the stairs, the door flying open and calling out for your kids. You instantly gather Powder and Ekko into your arms, checking over Claggor and Mylo while Vi talks to Vander.
"We need to fight back!" her fist slams into the wall and you meet Vander's eyes from over her shoulder.
Still.
Still, he remains stubborn. He tells Vi he has to show her something and you feel that same disappointment build in you. That day you saw him pleading for help from Sheriff Grayson after she had asked if the kids were truly getting their facts right.
Vander was too soft to protect anyone. Your heart squeezes at the revelation, but you numb yourself out to it. Even when Piltover was calling for the blood of your kids, he still deludes himself into this fantasy of peace.
He was weak.
You bring your lips to Powder's forehead, keeping Ekko close to you while Mylo and Claggor shift uneasily as Vi follows Vander out.
"Come on, help me close up early." Mylo and Claggor uncross their arms, nodding. You pull away from the embrace and cup Powder and Ekko's faces in each hand.
"Ekko, you should get back to Benzo's, it's getting late." He pauses but nods, so you stroke over the back of his head and press a kiss to his temple. "Enforcers are gonna be crawling all over, want me to drop you off?"
"No, I can be sneaky!" Ekko beams up at you and you return his grin, standing to send him off. Powder stands next to you, watching as Ekko disappears into the alleyways with an agility of a street cat.
"Why won't Vander fight?" she looks up at you, brows furrowed. "They're ruining everything. The enforcers. They threw a guy through a window, they're -"
"Monsters." You finish for her. She sees the scar running down your brow and inches close, so you wrap an arm around her. Man, she's grown like a sprout, limbs all lanky and awkward.
She couldn't grow up in a world like this.
"All of them are monsters," she whispers under her breath and your silence just cements this further into her brain.
"All of them," you continue.
When Vander returns with your eldest, he knows he's pissed you off. You won't meet his eyes, nursing a drink in your hand while you stare at a card in between your hands. He stands next to you and plucks your old business card from your fingers. It was wrinkled, yellowing with age and some words already fading. But your writing on the back remains.
'Come see again soon'
"Revisiting memories?" that was the theme tonight it seems. You'd slipped that into his jacket after he pulled off a drunkard away from you. Vander still remembers the seat you were sat in, what you were wearing, and that gleam in your eyes when you catch him staring at you for a bit too long.
He sits next to you and glances at the cast iron gloves. Those memories do little to make him happy. You take a swing of your drink, slamming the cup down and moving to stand. Vander calls out your name, grabbing at your arm to tug you in. You grunt when you land against his chest.
"You're pissed at me."
You roll your eyes at him, using your hands to push away but he does not relent.
"You honestly think we should go to war with Topside?" there's a bite to his tone. His patience with Vi had been in abundance, she was young and hurt. But out of everyone else, he thought you should understand him better.
"You want her to live like this her entire life? Keeping her head down and taking every beat down for a noble purpose?" You slur out, ripping yourself from his arms to grab at your coat.
"I want her to stay alive. I want all of you to stay alive" his voice raised the tiniest bit but he restrains himself and it pisses you off more. You put on your jacket and he sighs. "Where the hell are you going?"
You smack his hand away, stumbling a bit as you turned to face him.
He wants to hear it. A scathing 'fuck you' or 'leave me alone, asshole'. But you just narrow your eyes at him, lips trembling as its set in that frown, then just shake your head and turn away to walk out.
You don't know where you planned on going. You let your legs carry you around, aimlessly wondering through the alleyways until you find yourself at a familiar backdoor. You push the heavy door open. The busy wallpaper and creaky floorboards give you more comfort than you expected.
"(Y/N)?" Doe blinks at the sight of you. She takes off her mask and you stare at her concerned face. "Are you okay?" you shake your head and lean in. Her eyes widen when your lips meet hers, she places firm hands on your chest and push you back.
"You're drunk."
You shake your head, cupping her face again and kissing her. She groans, murmuring your name before she bites down. You hiss, back hitting the wall as she shoves you. "You're with Vander." The reminder makes you laugh. You slide down the wall, putting your head between your knees as your tears well up.
Sevika thanks Doe for telling her where you were, crouching to grab a fistful of your hair to raise your head. Your empty gaze makes her sigh. You don't even fight when she slings your arm over her shoulder and lifts you onto your feet.
"The hell are you two taking me?"
"Silco's." Doe answers flatly.
Sevika feels you stiffen up. "I knew you hated them, but never figured you'd been working with him the whole time," she gruffs out. "Wish you would've told me about it sooner."
"Sorry, I'll be sure to invite you into my super secret group club the next time, okay?"
You're sober enough to be sarcastic without slurring words together. She just adjusts her grip on you and makes her way to the factory by the docks.
The Doctor greets you as Sevika drops you onto a chair. A dark shadow moves idly by the windows and you clutch at your neck as you crack it again. "Why am I here?" you mumble, pinching your brows. "To keep you safe."
You look at him through squinted eyes. "Why wouldn't I be safe?"
You had no idea what had happened. Not Benzo's murder and not Vander's kidnapping. Call it luck or a happy accident, Silco doesn't care. He's glad you're not looking at him with an ounce of hatred, just simple confusion.
"Stumbling around drunk," he begins "late at night." He was worried you'd run away. Ran and Lock had looked for you at the bar, even asked around for you. Thankfully, Sevika had found you.
"I'm a big boy" you reply, leaning back in the chair only to smack your hand onto the edge of a table when you realise it was a stool.
"Sober him up," he tells the Doctor who reaches for a small jar on the shelves. "This won't make you sober," he tells you as he unplugs the cork from the top, you grimace and bring your face close. "But it'll wake you up."
The sharp sting that wafts up your nose makes you groan, backing away from his outstretched hand. Doe keeps you from falling backwards, steadying you while you making hacking noises.
Silco and Doe nod at each other. She's got you, he can trust her with this. He turns and Sevika follows in step. They step out, the door thudding close.
It was better to keep you away from this. You cared too much about Vander, he can't let you get distracted from the freedom that's right there. Shimmering like a desert oasis in front of him. Hate him if you must, but Vander had done himself in the second he decided to put on those handcuffs.
The hound of the underground was nothing but a lapdog now. He can't keep his people in check anymore, it's why they've turned to him instead. They need this. Zaun needs this. Vander will be known as a coward who ran away with his kids. Leaving the undercity to save his own skin, so his hands remained clean from anymore blood. Like the true coward he was.
You'll forgive him for this. You'll have to.
You're standing now, peering into the rat cage while Doe stared at the test tubes full of creatures on the shelves. Every time you even glance at the direction of the exit, Doe steps subtly in your way. He wanted to keep you in here? Seriously? You weren't that damned drunk.
You hear muffled voices from outside and as Doe picks up a test tube, you take your chances wrestling with her. She blinks in alarm, nearly dropping the tube as you suddenly dash towards the door. The Doctor stands as the the glass breaks and splatters green glowing liquid onto the floor. She calls out your name and you twist the handle open, slamming it closed in her face. She pounds on the door, cussing you out for being a bitch and you would've replied with your own string of colourful words but a body crashes next to you.
It's Lock. He groans, jaw loose and mouth bloody as he his head limply falls backwards. You notice the shadows from the bridge and look up.
"Vi!" she feels ice in her veins. She chances a glance down and yells out your name in confusion. Silco tightens his grip on the railing so Sevika whistles sharply. You yell as a few of her men try to grab you.
"(Y/N)?' Mylo repeats, his hands trembling even more. Vander's heart drops to his stomach but he snaps Mylo back into focus.
Why was she wearing those gloves? No, what the hell was she doing here in the first place?
"Silco!" you avoid a pair of burly arms, ducking away and bumping into the crates filled with Shimmer. "What are you doing!? You promised!"
He motions for more of his men to rush the bridge. Vi doesn't have enough time to process your words fully. She shakes her arms, cracking her neck as she prepares to fight. She must've misheard. She must have.
"SILCO!"
Your yells are making Vander's heart race. He can't see you. Only hear you. If Silco was ready to get rid of his kids just to ensure his control over the undercity, he doesn't dare to imagine what he'd do to you. Vi is determined, she cannot let her fathers die here. Not when she was the one who'd put them in this situation in the first place. These series of events, this domino effect all began from that damn explosion.
She can't let herself be orphaned again. She can't let Powder be orphaned again.
You continue to evade them, grabbing a wooden plank and smashing it over a few heads to put enough distance. When you reach the stairs, you yell out for Vi again. Silco doesn't dare look your way as you rush towards the bridge. He cannot get distracted. He can't.
Sevika grabs at you, her arm wound around your waist and you snarl. You aim your elbow at her head, making her flinch enough to loosen her grip. It still isn't enough though. Even then, she squeezes you like a damn snake.
"Let him go!" Vi growls out, adrenaline pumping through her veins. You dig your nails into Sevika, slamming your fist onto her arms while you struggle. Deckard watches this half-dazed, purple liquid oozing out from the corners of his eyes as he's bent over the railings.
"Ready to rise to the surface?" Silco holds the glass vial of Shimmer to his face. Deckard's breathing quickens and he downs it.
It happens quick. One second Deckard is just another boy and the next he's a monstrous figure rushing towards Vi. You yell, finally managing to elbow Sevika right in her face. She drops you and the second your feet are on the ground you sprint towards Vi.
You gather her in your arms and damn near skid to a stop once you past the threshold of safety. "The door! The door!" Vi yells, grabbing the handle and you help her. It slams close just in the nick of time, Deckard squealing from the other side as he pounds his fists so hard, it makes you and Vi bounce away from the door. You dig your heels in and grip onto the handle, sweat beading down your nose as you try to catch your breath.
"(Y/N)! You alright?" you cuss under your breath but let out a breathless laugh.
"Never better."
Vander sighs, looking to Vi next. He feels the rush of cool air as Claggor finally makes a hole big enough for them to escape from.
"You did good, Vi."
She feels hope stir within her.
You don't remember what happens next. It's a fiery blur, only flashes of images bursting through every time you open your eyes to blink. The smoke was so thick and the metal door ontop of you was so heavy. Vi is crying.
Vi is crying and Vi never cries.
She calls for your name, her body trembling underneath you. When you wheeze, she sobs. Whether out of pain or relief, you can't tell. Ahead of you, you see the most horrifying sight.
Claggor. Mylo.
Dead.
"I want her to stay alive. I want all of you to stay alive."
You brace yourself onto your elbows, straining out a yell as you try to lift yourself up enough for Vi to shimmy out. It groans above you, scraping against the floor inch by painful inch as you feel your eyes water. Vi calls out your name again, finally looking her age as she tries to crawl out.
What have you done?
When a hulking figure comes close, you yell in an attempt to scare him off. But it wasn't Deckard, it was Vander. Your Vander, with his veins glowing purple and his body nearly double its size. There's heat coming off from him, his rapid growth most likely putting his body through torture. You swear you can hear his enlarged heart as it beats like a war drum.
What have you done?
Vi finally crawls out and she turns to hold the door up so you can too. You stumble and kneel right in front of Mylo's outstretched hand, grasping at it while your other hand tries to dig him out.
"C'mon, c'mon baby. You're okay, you're okay." You sob, lifting your eyes to look at Claggor next and begin shaking your head. It was just ash and debris, he wasn't that pale. He was strong, he was your strong boy. You wipe away some of the dust from his face and choke back a sob when all he does is loll his head to the side.
"No, no, no. Claggor, Mylo."
There's a loud explosion. The building rumbles, the roof creaking as it sinks down. Vi is clutching at your shoulder, crying as she stares at her brothers. Vander gathers you both in his arms and flies through the escape plan. You scream, feeling the heat lick at your back.
Vander takes the brute force of the fall. Cushioning you and Vi as his last act of love. You hear it, his heart as it slows. You shake your head, looking down at him, cupping his face as rain descends onto you.
"Vander," Vi whimpers out.
"No, baby, please. I'm sorry," you brush your thumb over his cheek, one hand remaining on his chest. The shimmer was wearing down, his pounding heart begins to get slower and slower.
"I'm so sorry, Vander."
He leans into your palm, feeling the tiniest bit of happiness that you two were still alive. He'd always joked about dying, how he wanted to have you over him like an angel. And you'd always laugh, telling him he was ridiculous.
"Take care of Powder."
Vi screams next to you. You hang your head, sobbing as you hold his face in your hands. You press your foreheads together, kissing him one last time before you pull away.
"Vi, it worked!"
Who was that?
"Did you see me? My monkey bomb finally worked!"
Vi gets up and you turn your head to follow her. The sight before you is strange. Vi and Powder were fighting, yelling at each other but you can barely hear it over the rain and crackling fire.
Vi hits Powder and you shakily bring yourself to your feet. As Powder begs for her sister to come back, you stumble towards her. She turns to you, crying nonsensically about how she just wanted to help and you nod, trying to form words but your tongue feels like lead.
Silco finds her desperately shaking your shoulders as you sprawl out onto the ground. He sees your chest going up and down so he concerns himself with the girl.
"Hello, little girl. Where's your sister?"
Then the strangest thing happens. She lunges at him, brings him to his ass, but hugs him so tightly he's confused at her intentions.
"She left us. She's not my sister anymore."
Silco brings a hand to the back of her head, understanding just to well about what she was feeling. He glanced at Vander's grotesque body then at yours.
"It's okay. We'll show them. We'll show them all."
What have you done?
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He knows you're pissed at him. Actually, pissed doesn't even begin to describe how you're feeling. But Silco remains cool in your presence, standing in Vander's office, looking at the stack of papers. Stock intakes, accounting bullshit, Powder's doodles. You're sat on the couch, staring at your lap with a blanket over your shoulders. Powder's head in your lap as she twitches and sniffles in her sleep.
"You promised me you wouldn't hurt them."
"I didn't."
You bring your hand over Powder's ears, glaring at him. Your face angled down, eyebrows so tightly knit he swears he sees a vein pop out on your forehead.
"You killed my sons."
"She did."
Your expression hardens. Powder shifts for a second and instantly your anger fades, you smooth out her bangs from her head and pat her back rhythmically.
"We share the blame, (Y/N). I didn't do this alone."
He sits on Vander's chair, reaching for his cigar. Vander's body hadn't even gone cold yet and here Silco was, already intending on desecrating his grave by smoking his cigars, as if intently chasing away the scent of Vander's smoking pipes.
You carefully move Powder, shushing her as she stirs and draping your blanket over hers to keep her warm. Silco watches, lighter in hand, poised to burn. You spin the chair, Vander's chair, and kick his legs apart.
He should be more cautious. Foxes are known to get close to their prey, associated with daggers and tricksters because unlike a wolf they couldn't use brute strength to bring down their enemies. You could choke him out, try to pin him down and reach for a pencil to shove through his eye.
But he uncrosses his legs and you sit on his lap. You reach for the box of matches, and strike it. Silco watches you watching him; the orange glow of the cigar not quite piercing through the darkness in your eyes.
"When Powder drinks from the bar, she has her own cup and metal straw. She likes to make gadgets, she gets restless sometimes and snoop around. She's smart, so you'll have your hands full."
Silco arches a brow, inhaling and exhaling out the smoke. Your eyes flutter, burning a bit but you can't even muster a single tear.
"You're offering to babysit?"
"She's my daughter."
You wrap your arms around his neck, your smudged and soot-stained face tucking itself to his neck. You could rip his throat out right now. But where would that leave you and Powder. Running from his men, constantly looking over your shoulder. No. You made your bed. You lay in it.
You said you wanted a better future for your kids. How could you rip Powder away from the only shot she has at being safe?
"I'd do anything for her." You shift your position, bringing your lips to his ears.
"I'll even keep your bed warm. I know you like how I do you."
Silco isn't stupid. He knows how dangerous you are; he hired you to infiltrate and gather information and for years you did just that. Now Vander was dead. You were as wicked as he was.
And now, you had every right to kill him next. So sleeping with you? Sharing a bed, and keeping you close where you'd have access to his operations. You subtly thrusting Powder into the fray, telling him about her needs and how to take care of her. Saying you'd stay if her safety was guaranteed.
This was a bad idea.
But Silco is intrigued. He'd thought you'd be yelling at him. Screaming bloody murder, wrap your teeth around his neck and try to tear it off.
Cunning little fox. You're planning something. Painful and meticulous. You'd make your revenge something people would whisper about as a warning.
He wants to see how far you're willing to go. He's glad that you share the same obsession with him as he does with you now.
Fine.
If the both of you were going to destroy each other, let it be known that Silco allowed it to happen in the first place; if you need to be broken down to be his, then he'll gladly place his chess pieces on the board with you.
Vander and Benzo's death shocks the undercity. You imagine people glancing at each other, confusion and lost written across their faces. Their protector was gone and in his place was the disgraced Silco.
But what truly sends people reeling is you standing besides him. You, Vander's boyfriend, the one his kids called dad among others. The slut that Vander had given a home too. Had given a job to and loved.
No, adored. He adored you, did you forget that?
He looked at you like you hung the damn moon in the sky.
How could you?
You fucking traitorous whore.
You had prepared for this. Steeled your emotions and walked among Silco's entourage with your head held high. Let them hate you, you know you deserve it. You expect the spit thrown your way, wiping it away with no emotion. You expect the harsh words, the cusses and threats.
But you're frozen in place when a man comes running at you, a knife held in his hand. You recognize him; a stall owner who Vander liked to do business with. Often trading fruit peels for this or that. He used them to do an array of things, though Vander recounts that he often used it as a way to smell fresh.
You smell it. That citrusy scent as he rears his hand back. "You whore!" he yells out.
Sevika kicks him square in the chest and as she leans too far back from the lack of balance (you think the loss of her arm was well-deserved) you keep her steady.
But it invigorates the crowd of grieving people. They throw things at you, trash and dirt at first. But then someone flings a brick and you barely dodge it in time before it smashed against your head.
Silco couldn't have people thinking that his entourage was weak.
So he brings you back to that walkway, the stalls now ransacked and the owners all kneeled before you. Hushed whispers come from the windows above you, children peeking curiously and mothers rushing them away.
These people were all Vander's friends. They did business with him, ate with him. You'd been there, eating with them. You glance away, sighing out a shuddering breath.
"Getting queasy?" Silco muses out.
"I've never been fond of butchers."
"Someone has to get their hands dirty. We can't all be expensive whores." You glare at him reproachfully.
"I want to leave."
"No."
Silco motions for Sevika and you scoff; "Look at you. Asking for another person to suck a John's cock for you. Expensive whore, is that what you called me?"
Silco gives you a tepid look, but then pulls out a dagger. He stares down at Vander's friends. Silco then stands behind them, bringing the blade to their throats. They look at you, nothing but pure hate in their eyes.
"You fucking traitor."
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago
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When Viktor loves, he loves hard and if you were on the receiving end of such, you were blessed beyond words to say the least.
His love was soft, gentle, selfless that it would always leave you feeling loved and appreciated by this beautiful with the amber eyes. He’s always looking out for you and doing small but meaningful things that told you that you were an regular occupant within his genius mind that was usually filled with complex equations, plans to advance hextech and bettering the lives of the less privileged.
Viktor would leave spaces beside him for you to join him, always pulling up a chair next to his own as almost as if it was something he’s done countless times before to the point it was purely muscle memory for him to save a just space for you.
He would subtly write notes on you within the back of his notebook on your likes, interests, favourite hobbies and or topics that you’d love to bring up in conversation when applicable, all in hopes of seeing that sparkle in your eyes whenever you talked passionately and become expressive through hand gestures. He loves it all and had to carry his notes on you to the backs of his other notebooks because there was so many things he found easy to love.
He’s a tinker at heart and will often find himself adrift in his own mind as his hands fiddled and moulded spare parts scattered across the lab in order to take something that he’d think you’d love. And he made many little pretty trinkets ranging from a blue jay no bigger then the palm of your hand, to the never wilting flowers, all of which now sat on your shelf in your shared room with the highest of honour.
He holds on to things you’ve left for him if you were to ever attempt at tinkering yourself. Most were rather poorly made and either looked like it was going to collapse within seconds of being made, but Viktor would only smile and hold the peculiar trinkets close to his chest, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he softly claimed that he loved their uniqueness. You’d then pout and tell him that you know they were bad but you’d get better at it with practice so he could replace them with better made ones.
However Viktor never did replace or threw away your first creations at all, they were symbolical to him of your relationship, and instead he kept them on him if they were small enough to fit inside a pocket; all the while keeping the new ones that you’ve given him that were more sleek and better made. He kept everything you’ve ever given him close to his chest as though they were priceless treasures made with love and affection that you held for him.
Needless to say he takes pride in the flustered look that overtook your face as you realised that this man would treasure your every gift, even if it wasn’t your best work because Viktor could see the effort and the love you poured into them, so why should he throw away things made by your beautiful hands? Felt like an insult.
Viktor also developed the habit of reaching out to touch you and or anything that meant he could be closer to you, even if the room was spacious he’d much rather stand by your side more so then ever, he’d do as though his body aches for your presences and warmth. A pat on the shoulder, hand at your elbow or at the small of your back, Viktor will always find his hand searching for your own and linking pinkies with yours as a reassured smile graced his lips in knowing you were right there beside him.
The only time his full weight was pressed against you was when he was lacking in an actual sleep schedule and felt as though he was on the brink of collapse. So at that point you had to essentially carry the poor man back to his room, kiss his head to shush his apologies in having you escort him back home, telling him it was perfectly fine before wishing him a good night upon departure. He loves more when it seemed as though you both shared the idea of affection as your hands would nudge against one another before your fingers are intertwined and squeezing the other tightly, happy and content within the presence of the other, acting as though both of yours personal heavens.
Viktor loved hard but you loved him even harder as you would kiss your words of affirmation into his skin, softly, slowly so that he could feel each and every ounce of affection your pouring into him. You’d kiss his neck sweetly and even playfully nibble it just to hear the hitch in his breath and smirking to yourself, before continuing to kiss your way up to his ear where you’d whisper loving words into that would supersede his worries and insecurities; all the while running your hands up and down his sides as they lovingly held his waist and your thumbs were gingerly stroking his hips.
You’d kiss up his jaw, cheeks and to his temple where you’d rest your head against as you felt him melt further beneath your touch. You worshiped every aspect of him a thousand times over because you loved Viktor too much to dare leave an aspect of him untouched and obsessively kissed upon. You wanted to repay the love he’s given you by giving him for loving he deserved, unconditional affection. So you’d spent minutes or even hours holding Viktor close to your chest as you praised him and showered him in kisses from his forehead, his back, chest, arms, hands, thighs and so much more to show him that his love was greatly reciprocated by you; kneeling at his feet as you worshiped your lover the way you thought was more then appropriate for your beloved Viktor.
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faebled-stories · 2 months ago
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Ex-Factor: Behind the Smile
Kinkvember Day 3: Blackmail (Yandere Jiheon)
Fromis_9 Baek Jiheon x Male reader
AN: Daylight savings + weekend = Earlier update 💖😊
7.2k words
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In the dazzling universe of K-pop, where glitzy performances and fanfare reign supreme, love often becomes a bittersweet melody, intricately woven into the fabric of fame, fortune, and relentless ambition. Amidst the swirling lights of concerts, the deafening cheers from adoring fans, and the ceaseless training sessions, two talented idols—Jiheon and you—found a quiet oasis in each other’s hearts.
From the moment you met, it felt as if destiny had intertwined your fates. Jiheon, a rising star with a captivating stage presence that could light up any arena, had a magnetic charm that drew you in. Your own charisma, a sweet yet powerful aura, complemented hers perfectly. Together, you became a dynamic duo, weathering the storms of the industry while nurturing a love that blossomed in the less glamorous and quieter corners of life.
Your relationship was not built on grand gestures but on cherished moments behind the scenes. Late-night phone calls stretched into early mornings, where soft laughter and shared dreams painted a beautiful tapestry of intimacy. Cozy dinners became your refuge from the demanding schedules that dictated your lives, where you exchanged stories, hopes, and fears over steaming bowls of ramen or comforting plates of kimchi.
Your romance seemed like a fairytale. You were the couple everyone dreamed of being, seemingly pursuing your aspirations together with the promise of a shared future. From the outside, it appeared as though you cheered each other on during rehearsals, hearts racing not just for personal triumphs but for the joy of achieving success together on grand stages. Yet, little did they realize, there was much more beneath the surface.
Stolen kisses between dance practice, secret notes exchanged backstage, and quiet walks beneath shimmering city lights became treasured memories, preserving the sweetness of your love against the bitter backdrop of industry pressures. Your relationship was a gem, rare and precious, glimmering even amid the sparkle of stardom.
Yet, the reality of K-pop stardom is that it is often fleeting and fiercely demanding. As Jiheon’s career soared, propelled by her talent and charisma, the expectations placed on her intensified, like shadows growing longer as the sun sets. With each comeback, the stakes climbed higher, drawing her deeper into the relentless cycle of training, performances, and public appearances.
As the demands of your respective careers pulled you further apart, the strain began to show. Training sessions grew longer and more exhaustive, leaving scant time for romance. Jiheon found herself grappling with a heart pulled in two directions—her dreams, glittering and tangible, clashed with the love she cherished. In her mind, thoughts spiraled: Was it selfish to hold onto this love when her career beckoned?
In moments of quiet reflection, Jiheon wrestled with the haunting belief that letting you go might be an act of love itself. Perhaps distancing herself from you would give her the freedom to reach new heights, allowing her to fully invest in her career. It was a painful paradox—the closer she got to her dreams, the more she felt she had to sacrifice.
Then came the fateful day when Jiheon finally found the courage to speak the words that had been clawing at her insides for weeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands trembling at her sides. The two of you stood in a quiet corner of the park, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows that danced around your feet.
“I think… I think we should break up.” The words tumbled out like heavy stones, each one crashing down inside you, echoing the unshakable truth that you both had been avoiding.
“It’s better this way, for both of us,” she continued, her gaze dropping to the ground, as if she could will the earth to swallow her pain. The sun flickered through the leaves overhead, but it felt as if the warmth had suddenly vanished, leaving behind an icy chill that seeped into your bones.
The enormity of her words hung in the air, heavy and stark, as if time itself had halted. You could hardly breathe as your tear-filled eyes met hers, searching for some glimmer of hope, something to hold on to. But all you saw was the anguish mirrored in her heart, reflected in those shimmering pools of despair.
“What? Jiheon… Please,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as desperation clawed at your throat. “Can’t we find another way? We’ve been through so much together. I can’t just let you go.”
She took a step back, the physical distance between you somehow amplifying the emotional chasm that had opened up. “You don’t understand,” she replied, her voice breaking as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you but, our relationship is bottlenecking our progress. Things aren’t the way they used to be, and pretending will only hurt us more.”
The pain of each syllable cut deeper than any knife, reverberating within your chest like the tolling of a bell, ominously marking what felt like the end of your world. You longed to reach out, to pull her close and reassure her — both of you — that everything would be okay. But the wall of resolve in her eyes held you back.
“Is this really what you want?” you asked, your heart racing as you grasped for any thread of connection that could pull her back from this precipice. “We can work on this, together.”
Jiheon shook her head, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. “It’s not healthy for us, I can't keep holding you back… or myself.”
With that, the finality of her words settled like an inescapable fog around you. In her belief that this was the right choice, a choice steeped in love and sacrifice, Jiheon felt her spirit fracture, the pieces scattering like fallen leaves caught in a relentless gust of wind.
“Please don’t do this,” you whispered, the vulnerability of your voice revealing just how unprepared you were to let go. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know,” her voice quivered, the pain evident in her expression as she stepped closer, reaching for your hand, squeezing it tightly as if to breathe life into the moment. “I'm sorry"
As her fingers slipped from yours, you felt a part of yourself tear away, and all you could do was stand there, motionless, as the world moved on around you, leaving only silence and the bittersweet taste of love lost.
The silence that followed was deafening, an echoing void that enveloped you both. You longed to reach out, to pull her back into your embrace, to tell her that love could be a guiding light rather than a hindrance. But those words caught in your throat, drowned by despair. The choice she made loomed large, instilling a heavy weight of regret that would soon settle in her heart.
-----
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Jiheon had once been the girl who laughed in the warmth of love, the one who danced on the threshold of joy with you by her side. Now, she found herself enveloped in the unrelenting spotlight of fame, yet that brightness felt dulled without your light alongside her. Memories of their shared laughter haunted her during moments of solitude, the ghost of your love coloring her world with bittersweet shades of sorrow. As she navigated the bustling stages of her career alone, the emptiness in her chest loomed large, an omnipresent reminder of your absence.
One particular night, Jiheon, trying to shake off the weight of her loneliness, stepped into a downtown club where the pulsating beats reverberated through her body. Surrounded by her group mates, she swallowed a cocktail and attempted to dance mindlessly under flashing lights that painted the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. For a fleeting moment, she felt the flicker of joy in the chaos—an illusion that quickly shattered when her eyes scanned the room.
Amidst the crowd, they landed on a sight that sent her heart racing—you, radiant and alive. You danced with abandon beside another girl, laughter spilling from your lips and merging with the booming bass into a perfect symphony of youth and freedom. The sparkle in your eyes was familiar yet painfully distant, doubling Jiheon’s heartache. A violent pang of jealousy and anger twisted in her gut like a sharp knife. How could you seem so happy without her, so completely unbothered by the void your absence had created in her heart?
In a moment of impulse, Jiheon whipped out her phone and captured a candid photo of you caught mid-laugh, blissfully unaware of the eyes that watched from the shadows. That snapshot froze you in a moment of pure joy, yet it morphed into something darker for Jiheon—a testament to her possessiveness over a love that felt just out of reach. The joyful essence of the photo twisted into a haunting reminder of what could have been, nagging at her heart like a persistent itch.
As the night wore on, the music thumping around her seemed to amplify the mixed feelings flooding through her veins—joy for your happiness mingled with regret for abandoned dreams, longing for the connection they once shared, and an undeniable ache that settled deep within her chest. Was this life of stardom truly worth the heartache and longing? She wrestled with that question as her mind spiraled between the vibrant images of what you had and the person you were now becoming without her presence.
Within the mass of dancers and flashing lights, nostalgia crashed over Jiheon like waves, drowning her in an undeniable truth: sometimes, the glitz and glam of fame pale in comparison to the warmth and richness of love. Her eyes locked onto you from across the room, a smile gracing your lips as you exchanged a casual laugh with a girl from earlier. It made her chest constrict with an unfamiliar ache, the pulse of the music no longer in sync with her own racing heartbeat.
She thumbed her phone, where the image she had taken earlier burned in her gallery. A snapshot of you and that girl, smiling, close enough that it could easily stir rumors. Jiheon knew the chaos such a photo could spark in your carefully curated idol world. A flicker of unease mingled with something darker as she stared at it, the thought of you drifting even an inch further away igniting an unsettling possessiveness inside her.
As the beat thumped, matching the thrum of blood in her ears, something began to click in her mind. Maybe it was the drinks, the warmth of the alcohol unlocking a part of her she hadn’t known existed—one that thrived on the possessive edge coursing through her. The distance she had imposed between the two of you, the careful walls and silences, now felt like chains she’d fastened herself into. The room around her blurred—dancers, lights, and music melding into a shifting, indistinct haze.
A slow smile spread across her lips, soft yet shadowed with an intensity that felt foreign, thrilling. That ever-lingering question looped in her head: Could it truly be too late to find your way back to each other?
The answer, she decided, was simple. No. It wouldn’t be, not if she had anything to do with it.
-----
The next day dawned bright and deceptively warm, sunlight streaming through Jiheon’s bedroom window like a foreboding harbinger of a day meant for clarity. Yet as she sat cross-legged on her bed, chaos swirled within her like a gathering storm. In her hands lay a photo that had the power to irrevocably change everything.
Sobering up, Jiheon’s heart raced as she wrestled with her choice. The image represented a moment of vulnerability—one that, if leaked, could shatter your carefully curated image in the idol world. The thought sent chills coursing through her veins; yet desperation gnawed at her, urging her to take an action that felt both reckless and necessary. She felt ludicrous, turning her cherished memories into a weapon, but her heart battled fiercely with her desperation.
With trembling fingers hovering hesitantly over her phone, Jiheon finally composed a chilling ultimatum: “Meet me at this hotel room tonight, or I’ll leak this photo. I know how much you value your reputation. Don't make me do this.”
As soon as she hit send, a heavy silence enveloped her space. Anxiety pooled in her stomach, and she felt the weight of her decision pressing down on her like an unbearable load. There was no turning back now. She was fully aware that this power play could lead to a scandal that would reverberate through every corner of the entertainment industry. Yet, blinded by emotion, she oscillated between anger and longing—a desperate desire for you to confront the tumultuous feelings they had both been suppressing for far too long.
The moments following were excruciating. Jiheon paced around the small hotel room, her mind racing with questions and regrets. What if you didn’t come? What if you did, but the encounter spiraled out of control? The sound of her own heartbeat thudded in her ears, amplifying the suffocating tension. She glanced at the glowing screen of her phone, waiting for the telltale sign of a response. The room felt colder, the stillness more suffocating than she had anticipated.
-----
Outside Jiheon’s hotel door, you stood in a genuine emotional whirlwind. Underneath the cacophony of your racing heartbeat was an undercurrent of dread. The chilly evening air did nothing to quell the unease gnawing at you. You stood there, grappling with thoughts of what you might find inside. The idol world was merciless, filled with the sharp teeth of scrutiny and public judgment, where one misstep could lead to downfall.
Every fiber in your being urged you to turn and walk away, to deny the pull that had dragged you to this place. Yet, deep down, you knew that this encounter was inevitable—an ending and a beginning all at once. Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist, but paused for a heartbeat, listening to the silence on the other side.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, you knocked on the door, your knuckles barely making contact before it swung open. Jiheon stood there dressed in an oversized sweatshirt that nonchalantly hung off her shoulder, emanating an allure that contradictorily disarmed you even as your heart raced with apprehension. Her casual smirk felt like a mask she wore to hide her true intentions.
“Hey, you made it! Come on in,” she chirped, her voice bubbling with false cheer as she stepped aside to let you enter. The moment you crossed the threshold, a palpable shift in the air hit you. The hotel room was more spacious than you expected, yet it felt stifling. Soft yellow lighting from the bedside lamps cast warm pools that clashed with the cold tension that hovered between you. The room was immaculately tidy, with crisp white sheets tucked tightly over the bed and modern, minimalist décor—a sterile contrast to the storm of emotions brewing in the space.
Jiheon closed the door behind you, and the sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to echo louder than it should, sending a shiver down your spine. The brightness in her eyes dimmed, replaced by an expression heavy with tension. “Thanks for coming. I know this is... unusual,” she said, each word carefully measured, her posture rigid as if bracing for impact. The energy of the room was suffocating, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.
You took a tentative step forward, eyes darting around for some kind of anchor. A plush armchair sat near the window, where the faint glow of the city bled through gauzy curtains. The muted hum of traffic below seemed worlds away, unable to penetrate the thick atmosphere pressing against your chest. Your gaze settled back on Jiheon, who stood by the door, arms folded, her face a blend of vulnerability and defiance.
“About that picture,” she began, the words slicing through the silence and drawing your attention like a blade. You swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in your throat. “Where did you even get it?” The question came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t mask the desperation behind it.
“Does it matter?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she shifted her weight, crossing one ankle over the other as if to project nonchalance. The effect was betrayed by the subtle tension in her jaw. “What matters is that it could ruin everything for you.” She spoke matter-of-factly, her tone unyielding. The polished veneer of the hotel room seemed to close in, amplifying every strained breath. “Your fans will go crazy, their precious, innocent maknae getting it on with a random girl in a club. Don’t even get me started with your label... we both know about your dating ban.” Her voice dropped, and she looked away momentarily, exhaling as if trying to push her doubts aside. “I don’t want all that drama. So here’s the deal.”
A wave of dread washed over you, pooling in your stomach like ice water. “What do you mean, ‘the deal’?” The question was barely more than a whisper, the fear in your voice betraying the bravado you were trying to muster. The room’s silence pressed against your ears, making the faint tick of the wall clock almost deafening.
Jiheon took a step closer, closing the already minimal space between you. The subtle scent of her perfume—a blend of jasmine and something uniquely her—suffused the air, adding to the disorientation. Her eyes glimmered with a mix of determination and something else, something unreadable that made your pulse race. “I’ll delete the photo, but in return, I want… something from you.”
The implication in her words hung between you like a storm cloud. “What are you saying?” you asked, the room’s oppressive heat making it hard to breathe. The Jiheon you knew was warm and disarming, a friend who had stood by you through countless late-night chats and shared secrets. This Jiheon, with her calculating eyes and steady stance, felt foreign.
“Come on, don’t act so surprised,” she said, a smile ghosting her lips without warmth. “The way this industry works, sometimes you have to play the game.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Besides, it’ll be fun. Just one night, and then I’ll make sure the photo disappears forever. No one has to know.”
You felt the room spin, the reality of her words slamming into you with suffocating force. Your eyes flickered to the unmade bed, the impersonal art on the walls, the sterile cleanliness that seemed to mock the chaos between you. The thought of your career unraveling, of headlines splashed across tabloids and the faces of your fans twisted in disappointment, made your hands clench into fists.
“What if I don’t agree?” you managed to say, the words brittle and sharp.
Jiheon leaned back against the corner of the desk, crossing her arms in a gesture that was more defensive than she intended. The gleam in her eyes turned cold. “Then I guess my fingers might just slip, and that photo finds its way to the wrong places. She tilted her head slightly, the edge of her voice softening. “But hey, it’s your choice.”
The quiet that followed was heavy, the dim light casting harsh shadows that stretched across the room like prison bars. Your chest tightened, each breath shallow as the gravity of her ultimatum pulled you deeper into an inescapable spiral.
“Fine. Just... let’s get this over with,” you said, your voice hollow as the words left your mouth. Jiheon’s smile grew, though it was tinged with something bittersweet, her eyes flickering with fleeting uncertainty before hardening into resolve.
“Great! You won’t regret it, I promise,” she replied, her voice silkier now, wrapping around you like a lie.
You couldn't shake the feeling of disgust and anger that bubbled within you. You couldn't believe that you had been manipulated in such a way, that you had allowed yourself to be coerced into something that you knew was wrong.
Jiheon finally took the matter into her own hands. She decided that it was time to get back what was rightfully hers.
You and your ex found yourselves in a dance of passion that was fraught with tension, each movement calculated and deliberate. As you undressed one another, the fabric that fell away seemed to peel back layers of your shared history, revealing a complex tapestry of emotions.
With a sudden burst of energy, Jiheon leapt onto the bed, her vibrance illuminating the otherwise somber space. Her eyes, alight with a mischievous hunger, locked onto yours, and your heart responded with a rapid staccato that matched the intensity of her gaze. It was a shift in dynamics that was both exhilarating and alarming.
"I want you to make me cum," she asserts, her voice a blend of command and seduction that sends shivers down your spine. The weight of her demand hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the power she holds. "If you don't, the photo gets leaked." The threat is clear, and the stakes are high. It’s a game of pleasure and power, and you are unwittingly cast as a key player.
Jiheon's need for sexual fulfillment was palpable, a hunger that had been growing during your time apart. She was determined to reclaim the intimacy and release that she felt had been unjustly withheld. In her eyes, you possessed the skills necessary to satisfy her, and she was resolved to extract every ounce of pleasure she felt she deserved.
Caught in this web of desire and coercion, you face a dilemma that twists your stomach with apprehension. Your career, your reputation, everything you have worked for, hinges on your performance in this delicate situation. With a fortifying breath, you harden your resolve and prepare to meet the challenge head-on.
Your approach is steady, a predator stalking its prey with a singular focus. Jiheon lies before you, her finger crooking in a silent command for you to advance. Her legs part, an invitation—or is it a trap?—that you cannot ignore. You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself at the apex of her desire.
With a grip born of determination and a hint of aggression, you lifted her legs, draping them over your shoulders. Her gasp was a fleeting concern, quickly overshadowed by the task at hand. Your sole objective was to deliver the ecstasy Jiheon so fervently demanded.
You commenced with a series of slaps, your length striking against her most sensitive flesh, eliciting visceral and raw reactions. Then, with a thrust fueled by gravity and desperation, you plunged into her depths. Her body's undulations were unmistakable signs of pleasure, confirming that you were indeed striking the right chords within her.
Each stroke is met with increasing wetness, her arousal a slick testament to the intensity of your union. You drive deeper, using your natural lubrication to facilitate a rhythm that is both forceful and fluid. Your bodies move in, a dance as old as time, yet under these circumstances, it feels like uncharted territory.
Sweat began to drip as you continued to thrust with speed. The heat radiating from the former couple was intoxicating. Your body moved in perfect rhythm with hers. They would meet each other halfway just like it did during your time together. She moaned and writhed beneath you, her body tensing up as she got closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, kiss me," Jiheon demanded, her tone leaving little to no room for argument. With no choice, you leaned down and gave her a kiss, a kiss full of regret and hesitance. But Jiheon wasn't having it. She forced her way into your mouth and twirled her tongue around yours, asserting her dominance in this intimate moment.
Finally, just as she asked for, she couldn't take it any longer. She cried out in pleasure as she reached her climax, "YES, FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER" her body shaking and shuddering. You could feel every single one of her muscles clenching and contracting around your cock as you kept pounding out of frustration. But you knew from the way she quivered and screamed that you had done enough to save your career.
As she tried to come down from her high, Jiheon found herself becoming more and more aroused again, as her ex was relentless with his movement. The touch was confident and skilled, and she felt herself getting closer and closer to another release, and she could feel you too as your cock would twitch and pulse inside her.
Jiheon’s eyes sparkled with mischief, she had been anticipating this moment. She could see the tension building in your body, and she knew that you were on the brink of release. She planned her next move, determined to make this encounter one that you would never forget.
In a swift and calculated motion, Jiheon locked her legs around your waist in a vice-like grip, effectively trapping you in place. She could feel the surprise and confusion radiating coming from her hex, but she didn't give you a chance to react. With a sultry smile curling at the corners of her lips, she uttered her threat with a seductive purr.
"If you so much as think about pulling out now, I'll make good on my promise to leak that photo of you to the entire world," her voice dripping with confidence and determination.
You stared at her in disbelief, mind racing as you tried to come up with a way to escape. But Jiheon was prepared for this. She tightened her legs around your waist pulling you closer and making it clear that she was not going to let go.
"I mean it," her voice stern and unyielding. "You'd better finish what you started, or else I'll have no choice but to make good on my threat."
The gravity of her words hung heavy in the air. Jiheon's tone was firm, unyielding, and laced with a hint of warning that made it abundantly clear that she was dead serious about following through on her threat.
"You need to give me everything you've got," she continued, her voice taking on a softer, more sensual tone. "I want every single pump of your cum filling me up completely. Only then will I be satisfied."
Her demands were both bold and brazen, an assertion of her own desires and a challenge to meet her needs. Jiheon's words, coupled with the feeling of her legs still wrapped tightly around you, left little room for doubt - she intended to see this through to the end, and she expected you to do the same.
Your heart raced as you felt trapped and powerless in Jiheon's grasp. You knew she was not bluffing about the situation, but also knew she was capable of causing a scene and ruining your reputation. With no other choice, you accepted you fate and continued your assault.
Jiheon's smile grew wider as she felt you surrender. She wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer, relishing in the control she had.
"Jiheon… Please." The phrase was so simple, just two words, but the desperation in your voice made it hard to tell if you were pleading for mercy or on the verge of surrendering.
Nearing your climax, you attempted a hasty and sneaky quick pull-out maneuver, hoping to avoid the finality of the act. But Jiheon's strong and toned dancer's legs, honed through years of training and performance, refused to let him escape. She kept your hips firmly and deeply inside her, ensuring that you spilled every last drop.
Jiheon, nearing her release as well, used her legs to help you pump inside her.
"Ugh, Jiheon, don’t," you groaned, running your fingers through your hair as you felt the familiar sensation building inside of you "Shit, I can't hold it in any longer." Your tone was a mixture of anger and defeat, body becoming weak and you shuddered as you reached you climax.
"No!" Your voice cracked in desperation, your body trembling as you tried to hold back, but Jiheon’s grip was relentless. "Yes!" she moaned, her voice full of satisfaction, pumping into you harder, forcing your body deeper as your resolve shattered. Your hips bucked involuntarily, cock twitching as you spilled inside her, pulse after pulse, completely filling her up. Your pleas were drowned out by her triumphant cries, their bodies locked together as the heat of his release poured into her, unstoppable despite his struggle.
Jiheon’s smile, once warm and inviting, twisted into a smug, satisfied smirk. She had won, achieving exactly what she wanted. You were weak, utterly spent and defeated, your body betraying you as she basked in the triumph of your surrender, her victory undeniable in the heat of your aftermath.
Exhausted from the exertion and overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, you collapsed against Jiheon, your body going limp as you surrendered completely. Every muscle felt drained, leaving you helpless and vulnerable in her embrace. Jiheon’s fingers wove through your damp hair, but her touch wasn’t comforting—it was possessive, a reminder that you were now hers. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction and control.
"Good boy," she murmured, the words laced with a dark promise. It wasn’t just praise; it was a claim, a subtle warning that you were under her dominance now, and there would be no escape.
Jiheon's arms encircle you with an intensity that feels like a claim, a branding of ownership that sends shivers down your spine. Her heartbeat, a steady rhythm against your own, seems to mock the chaos that is unfolding within you. This is not the tender embrace you had imagined in your dreams; it is the firm grasp of someone who has orchestrated this scenario to perfection.
Jiheon's voice broke the silence, her words slicing through your confusion with surgical precision. "We're dating now," she stated, her tone deceptively casual, yet it carried the weight of an irrevocable decree. There was no hint of doubt in her declaration, no invitation for debate. Your heart, already pounding from the shock of the situation, stuttered at her announcement. Dating? The word echoed in your head, a concept that you had never consented to, a path you had never agreed to walk with her.
Panic flutters in your chest, its wings beating frantically against the cage of Jiheon’s possessiveness. You had never anticipated that your ex, with her playful banter and shared secrets, could morph into something so controlling, so suffocating. Before you could gather your thoughts to protest, Jiheon’s embrace tightens, a silent message that resistance is futile. Her body presses against yours, not with the gentle warmth of a lover, but with the unyielding force of a conqueror.
You lay there, trapped in the ironclad embrace of someone you no longer recognized. Jiheon’s triumphant smile, etched with victory, watched the realization dawn on your face. There was no escape, no chance to rewind and undo the twisted knot that your relationship had become. Her eyes, once windows to a kindred spirit, now held a glint of domination that chilled you to the core.
Jiheon shifted slightly, still catching her breath, and you barely registered the subtle movement as she reached over to the nightstand. You felt her stir, saw the glint of her phone as she grabbed it, but it wasn’t until she gave you a mischievous grin that your heart lurched in your chest. Without hesitation, Jiheon spread her legs, revealing the undeniable evidence of your intimacy still glistening between her thighs. Your pulse quickened as she angled the phone, snapping a selfie that captured both of you, making it appear as though you were the one who had taken the photo.
To add to the cruelty, Jiheon crafted a look of mock terror on her face, making it seem as though you had forced her into the act. Her expression was so convincing that it sent a wave of dread crashing over you. Your stomach twisted as you watched her approve the photo, her smirk growing darker by the second.
A surge of panic hit you, and you lunged forward, trying to grab the phone from her hand. "Hey, give that back!" you demanded, your voice trembling with fear.
But Jiheon easily pulled the phone out of reach, a low, sinister laugh escaping her lips. "Oh no, baby," she purred, her eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "I’m keeping this. You know… as insurance."
Your heart pounded in your chest. "Insurance? What do you mean?" you asked, dread sinking deeper into your bones.
Jiheon sat up slightly, her gaze hardening as she stared directly into your eyes. "If you ever, and I mean ever, break up or even just think about leaving me," she said slowly, her voice cold and deliberate, "I’ll leak this photo." She said with a smug tone, "I’ll release a statement about how you forced yourself on me, how you got me drunk and manipulated me. I’ll make sure you will never have a job again. You might even end up in jail." She tilted her head, her smile growing more twisted.
Your blood ran cold as her words settled in. Your mind raced, but there was nothing you could do. "You… you can’t be serious," you stammered, fear choking your voice. "You wouldn’t really—"
"Try me," Jiheon interrupted, her tone now deadly serious. Her gaze never wavered, her smile fading into something darker, more threatening. "I’m not afraid to ruin you; you’re mine to ruin." Then, just as quickly, her expression softened, her voice taking on a sickly sweet tone as she tilted her head, mimicking a look of innocence. "But we don’t have to worry about that, right, baby?"
Her innocent eyes contrasted with the threat she had just laid out, and you felt trapped, suffocated by the power she held over you. You swallowed hard, knowing you had no choice. "No…" you whispered, defeated. "No, we don’t."
"Good," Jiheon cooed, setting her phone back down on the nightstand with a satisfied smile. She nestled herself against you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The weight of her body against yours didn’t feel comforting—it felt like a cage. "I’m glad we understand each other. Now, cuddle me."
Your chest tightened, the suffocating realization settling in. She had complete control, and there was nothing you could do to stop her. Reluctantly, you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the cold grip of your new reality sinking in. Jiheon’s contented hum filled the room, her satisfaction palpable.
Her voice was suddenly sweet and light, almost dreamy, as she uttered the words, "I love you." The sentiment was delivered with a softness and affection that could disarm even the most guarded heart, reminiscent of a confession from a school girl completely in love. Her eyes sparkled with an innocence that was both endearing and convincing. The grin that adorned her face was the epitome of purity, creating an illusion of a genuine moment of affection that seemed to bridge two souls in perfect harmony.
But as the recipient of this sudden outpouring of emotion, you found yourself momentarily paralyzed, unable to respond right away. The silence that followed was deafening, and in that brief interlude, the atmosphere shifted. The sweet, lovestruck girl before you vanished, replaced by someone whose intentions were far more malevolent.
In an abrupt and terrifying transformation, Jiheon's smile disappeared, and her eyes, once filled with warmth, now glinted with a sinister edge. With a swift and unexpected move, she used one hand to grab your cheeks, her thumb pressing firmly against one side of your face while her fingers dug into your skin on the other. She pulled your face toward hers, the grip both demanding and unyielding. "Say it," she hissed, her voice no longer soft but sharp and commanding. The sudden change in her demeanor left you bewildered, your mind racing to catch up with the rapidly deteriorating situation.
"Say what?" you managed to ask, your voice betraying the fear that was beginning to take hold. Her response was chilling, her fingers tightening around your waist, nails piercing your skin ever so slightly. "Say that you love me," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Her warm, affectionate facade had crumbled, revealing a person you barely recognized—someone who was willing to go to terrifying lengths to make you submit. A shiver of fear shot through you, mingling with disbelief, yet your mind struggled to process this abrupt shift. You tried to gather your words, stammering as you attempted to defuse the tension, to understand this dangerous new dynamic without provoking her further. But the silence that stretched between you seemed to amplify her anticipation, her eyes never wavering from yours, watching every twitch, every flicker of hesitation.
Then, with a swift and brutal decisiveness, Jiheon’s expression hardened. Her features contorted with impatience and a dark, twisted determination that sent another wave of panic surging through you. Before you could react, her other hand shot down and clamped around you, gripping your flaccid sensitive member with a force that made you gasp in pain, your body reflexively tensing under the unexpected pressure. The pain was sharp, searing, and impossible to ignore, cutting through your paralysis and grounding you in the raw, terrifying reality of the situation.
"Say it!" she hissed, her voice laced with venom, a brutal command that left no room for resistance. Her eyes bore into yours, ablaze with a fervent intensity that was both horrifying and unrecognizable—a look of possession, of absolute control, that left you feeling exposed and powerless. This wasn’t the Jiheon you knew; this was someone consumed by a desperate, obsessive need, someone who would not tolerate defiance.
Her grip tightened further, making you wince as a jolt of agony shot through you, stealing your breath. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, strangled by fear and confusion. Her nails dug into your skin, the slight prickling sensation a reminder that her affection had twisted into something far darker, far more dangerous than you’d ever anticipated.
"Say it," she repeated, her voice lowering to a near-growl, each syllable carrying an unspoken threat. The intensity in her gaze held you captive, her fingers pressing with a deliberate cruelty that sent a tremor through your body. She was relentless, her patience long spent, and the chilling certainty hit you—she wasn’t going to stop until you gave her exactly what she wanted.
"I... I love you," you stammered, the words dragged from you by fear and desperation. The moment they left your lips, her demeanor shifted again. Her grip released, and she softened, a satisfied smile curling at the edges of her mouth. She brushed her hand gently over your cheek as if in some twisted form of affection, her fingers trailing down your skin in a mockingly gentle touch.
"There we go," she murmured, her voice slipping back into that feigned tenderness. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?" She nestled closer, fitting her body seamlessly against yours as though nothing had happened. Her arms slid around you, draping over you in a way that felt suffocating rather than comforting. She hummed softly, her head resting on your shoulder, her breath warm against your neck.
You lay there, rigid, as the reality of your situation settled in. Her embrace, though gentle, felt like a cage tightening around you, each moment drawing you further into her control. Her fingers started to trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, an almost tender gesture that only added to the disquiet churning within you. Every brush of her fingers felt like a reminder that you were trapped, ensnared in her twisted idea of love.
Jiheon lifted her head and gazed at you with wide, adoring eyes, her expression teetering on the edge of mania, her gaze brimming with an unsettling, almost feverish devotion. Her arms tightened around you, the grip bruising as if she were afraid you'd slip through her fingers if she didn’t hold on tight enough. Without warning, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was fierce and smothering, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. Her mouth moved over yours with a hunger that bordered on obsession, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as though she needed to consume you entirely to feel complete.
When she finally pulled away, her lips didn’t stop—they traveled over your cheek, planting fervent kisses that turned into nips, her teeth grazing your skin in playful bites that grew sharper, more possessive with each one. Her mouth found your neck, where her kisses became relentless, almost frantic, punctuated by gentle, teasing bites that left faint stings in their wake. Each kiss, each bite felt like a claim, a brand, marking you as her own with every touch.
Between her fervent kisses, her breath brushed hot against your skin as she murmured in a soft, almost reverent tone, “You’re mine now.” Her voice dripped with a disturbing sweetness, a tenderness warped by the intensity of her obsession. “We belong together… forever.” Her lips found the curve of your shoulder, where she sank her teeth in, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to send a jolt of sensation through you, a reminder of her dominance. Her arms locked around you, pulling you impossibly closer, her embrace as unyielding as steel.
“No one else understands,” she whispered, her tone almost soothing, though her grip was anything but gentle. Her fingers traced up your spine, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched, her nails digging in just enough to leave faint imprints on your skin. “No one else could love you like I do,” she cooed, her voice lilting with an affection that sounded both sweet and sinister. “We’re perfect together, you know that, don’t you?”
She tilted her head, looking at you with that same unrelenting gaze, her fingers running through your hair, tugging gently before pressing another kiss to your jaw, her teeth grazing your skin in another possessive bite. Each touch, each whispered word held an unbreakable claim, binding you to her in a love that had long since spiraled into obsession.
You didn’t respond, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was lost in her own world, one where your silence was simply acceptance, where her love—twisted and possessive as it was—was something you reciprocated. Her fingers tangled in your hair, stroking and twirling, while her lips pressed over your skin again and again, each kiss carrying a desperation that unnerved you.
To her, this was the culmination of a perfect romance, the moment she’d always dreamed of. Her eyes glistened with a feverish joy as she whispered, "You and me… forever." She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her arms squeezing tighter, her body practically molding against yours. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, as though her happiness was so overwhelming that even air couldn’t fully reach her.
You lay there, stiff and helpless, your heart pounding as she continued her endless string of kisses and whispered confessions. She was clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality—yet it was clear her reality was a world built entirely on her delusions. She seemed blissfully unaware of your discomfort, every soft word, every fervent kiss drawing you deeper into her twisted world.
As her grip tightened, you knew with a chilling certainty that Jiheon wouldn’t let you go. In her mind, you were bound together, trapped forever in her obsessive love, with no hope of escape.
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mygnolia · 4 months ago
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FOR THE REST OF MY DAYS
୨୧ -› how enhypen loves you + love languages :)
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pair -› enhypen x fem! reader | wc -› 600 | no warnings! | library
lee heeseung loves you before he even realizes it himself. he craves for you when he pushes back your hair and wipes away a smudge of your lipstick before his heart grows incredibly tight. he loves you like it’s second nature, because it’s easy to care for you, but even easier to simply exist around you. he loves you because you bring him comfort, like a warm spring day accompanied by a sprinkle of rain and descending petals. if eternity was a choice, he’d spend the rest of it with you ~ quality time
park jay loves you with quiet ardor, wanting to keep you all to himself. his hands trickle by your waist, his touch as a sign of your proximity, and you feel his breath ghost over your skin when he gets close. jay loves to love you, and he’s happy when you’re happy. he grins at you like you hang up the stars in the night sky, his eyes twinkling with affection whenever you’re around. jay promises that he’d do whatever you want, swearing to run marathons or cross oceans to be with you for a lifetime. ~ acts of service.
sim jake falls hard and fast, tumbling to kiss the earth you stand on (metaphorically!). he loves you like he loves the air and smiles when he sees you anywhere, finding you perfect in every way. people don’t lie when they say jake would be the best boyfriend, because he seeks you out in every crowd like an unspoken lifeline. his gaze always makes sure you're safe and sound; he clings to your touch like it’s law and runs his thumb over your knuckles to soothe your unease, anywhere, anytime. ~ physical touch.
park sunghoon loves you through his reassurance and promises. his pinky connects to yours for the first time when he tells you something unimportant, and yet something in you knew that he was being genuine. he laughs around you like there's no weight on his chest, effortlessly basking in your shared smiles and shared memories. he promises to cherish, appreciate, and love you, and something about the raw devotion of sunghoon's love makes you believe that he will forever be honest with what he tells you--always. ~ words of affirmation
kim sunoo gives himself to you in full, with his heart on his sleeve and his emotions all on display. there's never a dull moment on your mind when you're reminded of all the sheer adoration he holds in his sparkling gaze when he glances over at you. even when your fingers are intertwined and he feels your heartbeat thrum from underneath him, he takes it as a symbol that your love is real, and palpable, and absolute. and knows that he would spend the rest of his time with you, in the quiet of your love. ~ quality time
yang jungwon notices all the little things about you, his lips pursed every time he becomes an observer in your life. he looks out for you in more ways than one--catching you when you stumbling, wiping the condensation off your cup, or covering hard corners in case you don't notice. he cares in his own way, always attentive to how you feel and making sure you're okay; you're safe in jungwon's arms, with a security blanket of love around your shoulders whenever you're with you. and jungwon will always look out for you, no matter what. ~ acts of service
nishimura riki pours his feelings into everything he gives to you. his joy comes from your face when it lights up, and your appreciation for his little gifts is a treasure he holds close to his heart. he's not the best with words, getting flustered when you pour your feelings out for him or when it comes to crafting romantic paragraphs in response, but he’s attentive to everything you gaze settles on. he saves your smiles and pockets your happy moments with him as a reminder that you're content in his embrace, and he craves for you in every room you're not in ~ gift giving
love languages don’t exactly pair w the passage it’s more of what love language they have
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kingofbodyrolls · 15 days ago
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Bangtan Christmas ‘24 | Jungkook fic recs
Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! ❄️🎄
As the twinkling lights of the season surround us, I hope you’ve found some warmth and joy in the fics shared over these past 24 days. Whether you’ve devoured them all or haven’t had the chance to dive in yet, don’t worry—I’ve saved the best for last; a rec list ✨ This special rec list is my gift to you, filled with winter and Christmas-themed stories that bring me endless joy every year 🥰 It contains the fics I’ve reblogged all throughout December, BUT—also many Jungkook stories that I sadly didn’t have the time to read, but was on my Christmas to read list. Sometimes life just hits you… and I really wanted to include them to make the most spectacular rec list so that’s why they’re included ✨
A kind comment, a heartfelt message, even a simple like or reblog—it all makes a difference. You never know how much warmth a few words can bring to a writer’s heart, especially during the cold days of winter. And even if some of them are on hiatus and don’t respond, know that your appreciation is felt.
Before we dive into this treasure trove of stories, I want to take a moment to say an enormous thank you to all the writers out there. Your words weave wonders, creating characters and worlds that have made me smile, cry, and above all, feel deeply. So, thank you for crafting such brilliant art with your writing. You are a gift to this community, and we’re all better for it 💜
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[Bangtan Christmas ‘24 masterlist]Note: the stories that I sadly didn’t get to read are marked with *.
⭐Secret Slut (1) + Secret Slut (2) @jeonsweetpea [25.8k] ⭐Snow and Ice (1) + Snow and Ice (2) @hayjeon [24.8k] ⭐Speaking in Bodies @yeojaa [5.1k] ⭐A Thousand Reasons Why @taegularities [43.1k] ⭐Make it Feel Like Christmas @yoongiphoria [2.9k] ⭐Slipping Through My Fingers @thvhoe [4k] ⭐Countless Promises @sungvin97 [10.7k] ⭐Miracle of the Season* @cybrsan [17.2k] ⭐Frost Impressions* @fortunexkookie [41.3k] ⭐Angel’s Bells* @hamsterclaw [1.3k] ⭐Snowed In* @dreamescapeswriting [4.1k] ⭐Miracle in Room 901* @aredheadedmess [1.4k] ⭐Merry Crisis* @just-come-baek [12k] ⭐Let’s Escape Reality @clouditae [5.6k] ⭐Jingles* @just-come-baek [10.1k] ⭐I Hate You Too* @njssi [1.7k] ⭐Hypothermania* @yandere-society [N/A] ⭐Golden Present* @rosaetae [3.4k] ⭐Cookie Exchange* @kpoptrashlord-007 [2.6k] ⭐Christmas Cream(pie)* @smoochkooks [3.6k] ⭐Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)* @baepsaetan [17.6k] ⭐Blizzard* + Blizzard: Let it Snow* @curly-bangtan [15.5k + 8.4k] ⭐The Villages Idiots* @army-author [15k] ⭐Regrets* @sevenwho [4.6k] ⭐Painting the Meadow’s Void* @jungblue [12.9k] ⭐In the Frosty Air* @gukyi [1.6k] ⭐Holidays of Bread and Wood* @cutaepatootie [10k] ⭐Come Together* @sonnenfuchs [5.7k] ⭐Busted in Busan* @hansolmates [10k] ⭐Black and White Christmas* @army-author [4.5k] ⭐Among the Evergreen* @rosaetae [12.6k] ⭐I’ll Be Home* @wwilloww [22.3k] ⭐All I Want* @chimoona [4.7k] ⭐Sugar Plums & Red Bums* @thatlongspringnight [12.6k] ⭐Holidating* @yeojaa [12.8k] ⭐Where You Belong* @kerikaaria [5.6k] ⭐Water Ripples* @inktae [3.4k] ⭐True Love* (discontinued series) @virgojeons [4.6k+] ⭐‘Tis The Season to be Horny* @evafrechette [6.4k] ⭐The Proposal* @hansolmates [20.1k] ⭐Sparkle* @btsmosphere [2.5k] ⭐Snow Laughing Matter* @taleasnewastime [11.5k] ⭐Santa, Baby* @joyfulhopelox [4k]
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I truly hope you find joy in diving into all these wonderful stories! 🥰 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to explore this rec list. I couldn’t resist creating another one—I’ve missed it dearly. I know some of you enjoyed the monthly rec lists, so I hope this little collection brings a spark of joy to your holiday season.
If this list has brought a smile to your face, I kindly ask that you consider reblogging it. The more it’s shared, the more people can discover these incredible stories, and together, we can spread even more holiday cheer to the talented writers who make this season a little more magical with their words ❄️✨
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Hello, lovely people! I’m Lissa, both a reader and a writer at heart. Though I don’t write much fanfiction these days, my love for reading and recommending fics burns as bright as ever. If you’re looking for more Bangtan fanfics to cozy up with, you’re more than welcome to follow me, or simply explore my rec library. There’s always something special waiting for you.
With all my love, and borahae always 💜
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oreo-creampie · 1 year ago
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𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐬
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, kissing, praise, satoru is so so so soft for you he might as well be a cloud, man is head over head for you as he should be! Lots of kisses, several kisses this man can’t stop kissing you to save his life
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“Finally! Hold me and never let me go please sweetheart I need to be held.” Falling onto his knees, wrapping his arms around you burying his face into your soft stomach.
Gliding your fingers through Satoru’s soft hair. He nuzzled his head, tightening his grasp. “You won’t have to take another step around the apartment without me.” Patting his head he freezes, pulling away with pink cheeks.
“Do that again!” Patting his head, leaning down kissing his forehead. “Can I be little spoon?” Slipping his blindfold off, peering up at you pleading.
Smiling at him, “All night long, how about we start that rom-com we’ve been talking about.” Satoru kisses your stomach, standing up sweeping you off his feet cradling you to his chest.
It’s easy to forget everything else in Satoru’s warm loving safe embrace. The outside world becomes meaningless, all that matters are Satoru’s sparkling blue eyes, his soft snow white hair and feeling of his soft undercut beneath your finger tips.
Satoru’s bright, goofy grin is makes your world brighter. “I love seeing you smile, it’s so beautiful and goofy.” Kissing his cheek, his cheeks turn from pink to red.
“I love makin’ ya blush just as much handsome.” He climbs into the bed, lay you down with care. Kissing your forehead, cupping your face with his large warm hands.
Grabbing his hand, kissing his palms. “I love how you’ve become my home. I was so lonely before you.” Gently kissing you, like he doesn’t want to break you. Putting all his sweet, tender passionate love into it.
You are so cherished and treasured, adored by him. He spent every second he could showing you.
Laying on top of you, his weight pushing you into the mattress. Sliding your fingers through his soft undercut into his long fluffy hair. Patting his head again, he pulls away with a large grin.
Kissing your cheek, “You’re my sugar.”
Kissing his nose, “You’re my sugarbear. I love you.”
Kissing your lips, “I love you too honey, let’s watch stupid idiots similar to ourselves fall for each other.” He sits up, watching you arrange your pillows. Grabbing the remote and pulling up the rom-com ‘Love is Infinite’.
Tugging his sweater off, setting it in the side table. Watching you get cozy, pulling the blanket aside and doing last minute adjustments to the pillow. Glancing over at him, “Something wrong?”
“Can’t I admire my lovely, sweet, charming, stunning fiancé?”
Oreo creampie m.list
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bunnysnuff · 1 month ago
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Being Galinda’s girlfriend headcannons:
Pairing: Galinda Upland x f!reader.
Trigger warnings: none.
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You’re Her Biggest Supporter: Galinda (or Glinda, depending on how you like to spell it) is a force of nature, and she’s constantly seeking validation and admiration from others. But when you're together, you're the one person who she can truly lean on for reassurance. You offer her genuine support without all the sparkle and glam that she’s used to from others, which means more to her than she'd admit.
Endless Sparkle, with a Twist: Galinda loves her glitz and glam, but when she's with you, she’s willing to leave the ballgowns behind for cozy nights in—well, at least as cozy as she can get. She insists on giving you "the full Glinda treatment" with spa days, facials, and candlelit baths (probably scented with something extravagant like lavender-sweet vanilla). She’s always the one to make you feel like you're royalty, even if it’s just a lazy afternoon.
Teasing and Playful Banter: There’s a lot of light-hearted teasing in your relationship. She’ll probably poke fun at you for being "so serious" or "not understanding the importance of a good hair flip," but it’s all in good fun. You love to tease her back, calling out her overly dramatic tendencies, which she pretends to be offended by—until she bursts into giggles.
She Keeps You on Your Toes: Galinda’s known for her love of making everything a little more dramatic than it needs to be. If you're in a public situation where there's a little bit of tension, she'll probably look at you with an exaggerated "save me" expression, which is both hilarious and endearing. You’re her safe person, and she knows you’ll always keep her grounded.
You’re the Yin to Her Yang: While Galinda can be a bit self-centered and bubbly, you balance her out. You might be more introverted, calm, or serious, and that contrast creates a dynamic where you complement each other perfectly. You challenge her to think deeper and act with more humility, while she teaches you to lighten up and take life with a pinch of glitter.
The Best Date Nights: Your dates could be a mix of extravagant affairs and the simplest moments. You might attend a big gala, or you might have a quiet evening where she reads to you from one of her fashion magazines while you doze off in her arms. She loves to spoil you, but she also treasures the moments where it’s just the two of you, without all the flashing lights of the world.
She’s Protective in Her Own Way: Galinda may not always show it, but she gets fiercely protective of you. If someone is rude to you or you’re facing a challenge, she’s the first one ready to defend you with a mix of fiery charm and persuasive words. While she doesn’t have the same boldness as Elphaba, Galinda will use her wit, charm, and status to make sure you're treated well.
She Has a Soft Side: Deep down, Galinda has a heart of gold. She may act superficial at times, but she’s incredibly thoughtful and has an emotional side that only comes out when she’s with you. She might surprise you with little gifts, handwritten notes, or her favorite flower because she knows it’ll make you smile. She also has a bit of a “soft and vulnerable” side that she only lets you see.
Sharing in Her Growth: As much as Galinda is known for her glamorous persona, she’s also a character with depth. Throughout the relationship, you get to see her evolve from someone obsessed with popularity to someone who’s genuinely concerned about justice and what’s right. You’re there to witness her growth, whether it's her finding her own voice or standing up for what she believes in.
You Have Her Heart: Galinda is a romantic at heart, and though she often expresses it in dramatic ways, you know she’s incredibly devoted to you. When she says she loves you, it's not just the words; it’s the look in her eyes, the soft touches, and the way she always wants to make sure you feel adored. It’s clear you’re her one true love, and she’s in it for the long haul.
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eclecticmiasma · 7 months ago
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I kept thinking what if Chilchuck or Laios had been kidnapped by the monster! reader, how the reader saw them hurt or mistook them for chicks and saved them from being killed by another monster.. Now the reader monster is taking care of him in his nest/house, as if they were his own chicks (reader is a gentle monster who doesn't want anyone getting hurt or dying), and the reader being a sentient monster where she knows the dungeons are dangerous...
Note: the reader's appearance is similar to that of a human but with some animal characteristics, thus confusing the adventurers, who may think that she is a human cursed by the mad wizard and thus has the monster part... But the reader is a cool and conscious monster
Large brained thoughts, honestly! Perhaps reader could be the ghost of a creature that lost its young and uses shape-shifting to lure dungeoneers and other monsters to her nest as replacements? I would imagine that she would become extremely protective of her targets especially once they have been tricked into becoming one of her offspring. We don't see any examples of monsters being benevolent per se, but there is a benevolence/kindness to reader's selfish desires.
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I think reader would appear very different to Laios and Chilchuck, and their reactions would be completely 180 degrees. Some slight anime spoilers ahead! SFW, canon typical violence.
Laios
Reader appears to Laios in a form that's nearly identical to her original. She has thick claws and black, wet eyes. Her teeth are sharp but framed by soft human lips and her ashen hair is silken and braided like a Northern maiden. She might have a long scaly tale and feathers on her abdomen and thighs because, due to Falin's current condition, it's a form that Laios finds subconsciously comforting.
She lures Laios while the others are asleep. A monster that he's never seen before is too intriguing to pass up- the party is safe enough where they are. Just a peak, a chance to learn-
Before he knows it, Laios is somewhere wholly unfamiliar. The thick dungeon bricks lining the walls slowly give way to moss and grass. The air is warm and smells like petrichor.
Despite a small, nagging anxiety, he presses further. The creature smiles as she leads him farther into the jungle atmosphere, a smile so sparkling and human that is makes Laios blush.
Before long, he's walked right into reader's nest. It's a cozy hovel carved into the base of a tree. Laios is delighted to find smaller monsters of all sizes in a daze, lounging around on the thatched flooring. As he steps inside, he feels a veil of calm close around him and vaguely realizes that its why the monsters aren't hostile towards each other.
Laios succumbs, at first. He lets reader take him into her arms, drag her long claws through his hair and sing a tune that numbs his mind into a pleasant mush.
Reader feeds him, gives him her milk (a high he'll never reach again until the day he dies), lays out the comfiest spot for her newest treasure and goes on her way to find the next target.
Genuinely, if Laios wasn't on a quest this would be his life for eternity. His own mother wasn't very loving, so a meld of monsters and mothers is more than a guy could ever ask for.
It could be hours, it could be days, but eventually Laios begins to remember that this isn't where he's meant to be. He sees a monster that reminds him of Falin, and all at once knows he reluctantly has to return to reality.
Once reader realizes Laios is gone, only killing her will end her crusade to get him back. While the others simply see a deranged monster, Laios sees a terrified mother desperate to drag him back to the safety of her home. Laios hesitates before killing her, too torn apart by the tears in her eyes. Marcille has to take the final blow.
Senshi and Laios briefly consider cooking the inhuman parts of reader into a sort of beef stroganoff as tribute, but Chilchuck's screeching reminder that they are not to eat humanoids leaves them to bury her instead.
Chilchuck
Is just off the heels of grumbling about being treated like a child when he spots what looks to be a small figure huddled in the darkness.
He calls out to the others but doesn't hear a response, only the soft whimpers of whoever has managed to get themselves into this state.
Chilchuck is much more on guard than Laios would ever be. He immediately assumes that it could be a trap or an illusion, so he calls to the figure from afar.
She answers, desperation coloring her tone as she sobs, relieved that someone has come across her.
"Th-they're dead, I don't know where they are but they're dead and I..."
As Chilchuck gingerly steps towards her, he realizes that what he sees is another half-foot. A small archer that's bloodied and bruised. Something about her reminds him immediately of his wife.
All logic leaves Chilchuck as he finishes approaching her, asking what's wrong and tearing off a piece of his sleeve to prepare to bandage the deepest of her wounds. When he goes to wrap the material around her forearm he stares in confusion. The wounds are gone.
He doesn't even have time to react before reader cups his small face in her. "You're lonely," She says, a matter of fact. The half-foot can't deny it, "It's time you stop doing these dangerous things. The only end for a half-foot in the dungeon is in the mouth of a monster. Let me take care of you."
Her words are like honey, her touch even moreso. Feeling the touch of a woman isn't a luxury Chilchuck had been afforded in many moons. But even in the fog of reader's touch, Chilchuck feels that something is off. Her hands are too cold, eyes too deep and dark- almost like black pools of liquid.
The sharp tips of her teeth set him off, and he knows he has to get away. She's no different than a mimic, he tells himself. Even if part of him desperately wants exactly what she has to offer.
Chilchuck mimes as if he is going to fall into her allure, cupping his hands over her own and giving her the most smitten look he can muster. All before kneeing her in the face and dashing at speeds only half-foots can muster to get away.
Reader chases him desperately, form filling the room as she wails in sorrow. "Can't you see they're using you? You're going to end up as bait. You're going to die down here, you'll never see your family again!" Chilchuck mentally bats away at each assertion even as they hook into his skin.
The others finally come running, proximity close enough to hear the commotion at last. With a few well-placed blasts and a slice to the throat via Kensuke, reader is felled and left for good. Even in death, she seems to be in mourning.
Chilchuck doesn't sleep well for weeks.
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*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide darker content!
[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year ago
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Hiiiii, I have a request for the newly arrived Indigo Disk-
A really happy ending for Kiki where after the whole DLC, he then starts to make amends with the BB Elite 4, his sister and protag which eventually gains him Ogerpon's recognition, prompting her to wanna go with him as an extra treat after all his angst (quq)
Yessss we gotta give him the happy end he deserves <3
.........
Setting up a small picnic within the Terarium, you brought your current Pokémon team out to play, deciding to take in the beautiful coastal biome and its warmth.
Even though you knew it was all artificial, it didn't make much of a difference to your companions. They happily frolicked in the sand and grass, although some opted to take a nap under the sun after a hard day of battling.
Meanwhile, you were fixing up a sandwich for everyone to share, deciding to add a little bit of spice to it (at Crispin's suggestion, of course). You didn't want it to be too flaming-hot for your Pokémon--or at least none that were fire types who could handle the heat.
However one in particular just seemed to be hungry for anything, as upon hearing a crystalline trill, you looked down to see Terapagos at your feet. It was gently pawing on your leg, eyes sparkling as it wondered what you were cooking up.
"Hey, little guy." You cooed, reaching down to pat its head before you scooped it up, allowing it to climb into your lap. "Smells tasty, huh? I bet you're super hungry after sleeping all those years."
It only responded with another happy trill, and you just sighed.
Who would've known this would be the legendary "Hidden Treasure" of Area Zero Heath and [Turo/Sada] sought after, the creator of the Terastal Phenomenon...
And the Pokémon that put up one hell of a fight against you, Carmine, and Kieran?
Speaking of whom...
It's been roughly a month since those events down in the Underdepths, and for the most part things have been looking up for both you and him. You were just happy to see that spark return to his eyes...
The spark he had once lost...mainly because of you.
Part of you would always remain guilty over unknowingly setting him down such a dark path--obsessing over defeating you in battle to the point where he didn't care who got hurt in the process.
He didn't wanna be that weak little kid you kept beating back in Kitakami anymore, always bragging about how much he's changed and demanding you to never hold back.
But after being humbled in front of the entire school, he was willing to do anything to have at least one victory against you.
Even if it meant utilizing a dangerous legendary Pokémon he had little understanding of....
He tried to control it, and as punishment it attacked him directly.
Arceus only knows what could've happened if your 'raidon didn't absorb the blast in time, and that selfless act made him feel all the more guilty for the way he acted towards you.
He idolized you, hated you, and yet.....you saved his life when you could have just saved yourself, his sister, and Briar instead.
He cried like a baby the whole way home, overwhelmed by everything that's happened from last year up to now, yet you comforted him and didn't tease him once.
After returning to Unova, he made a promise to fix things between you and everyone else he hurt, finally letting go of his envy and deciding to start fresh with you. His request to be your friend again had you laughing, much to his confusion..and a little worried you were making fun of him.
Then he almost sobbed after you explained that you've never considered him an enemy at all.
Despite everything, you never stopped seeing him as a friend.
Sometime later you went home to Paldea, although not without exchanging rotomphone information with him so you could have more chats.
Yep. Kieran finally got his own phone, but being from the countryside made him only somewhat familiar with the basics. You and Carmine helped him with that, of course. He loved the camera function and would often send you photos of his Hydrapple doing something cute.
They're mostly blurry, but he's getting the hang of it.
You eventually went back to the BB Academy to further your studies of the biomes, and winded up taking a small picnic break within the Terarium. No rules said you couldn't, and Drayton did insist that you didn't overwork yourself...
Which is funny coming from the guy who had to repeat classes, although you took his advice.
"Roto-to-to-to~"
Your eyes lit up as you received an incoming call from Kieran, and you greeted him with a smile, waving. "Kiki! How's it going?"
"Hey, [y/n]." He smiled back, and then he blinked upon realizing how familiar the background behind you was. "Wait..you're back in Unova? In the Terarium?"
"Uh..yeah! I was gonna surprise you, but I guess it's too late for that now." You awkwardly chuckled. "How are things going with the League?"
"Better than..I thought, actually." He sat back in his chair, tying his hair up. "Drayton and I are finally on speaking terms again."
"Oh that's great!"
"Mhm. We both felt kinda bad about how we treated each other with the whole "ex-champion" thing...said some stuff we didn't mean. Last week we were avoiding each other, and now we're having casual Pokémon battles to ease the tension between us."
"I'm glad to hear that." You nodded, taking a bite out of your sandwich.
"I..really do owe you one for bringing the club back together. I've been so bitter and didn't realize how much it was hurting Lacey and the others...not to mention how many people I wrongfully kicked out. I promise I'm gonna get all of them back into the club. I swear."
"I fully believe you. Just don't run yourself dry trying to patch up everything with everyone, okay?"
Kieran nodded in understanding, although he suddenly went quiet. You wondered why until you realized he could see Terapagos, who was currently climbing onto the table trying to get some lettuce.
"Heyyyy that's not for you, you little scamp." Teasingly, you scooped it up again, keeping a gentle grip on its belly and shell before you looked back at your friend, bashful. "Don't mind Terapagos. It's always hungry."
"I see." He chuckled. "You've been taking care of it well?"
"Yep, but have you been taking care of yourself, too?"
"...yeah." He muttered. "Carmine's been getting on my case about properly eating and sleeping again. Don't tell her this, but I appreciate it more than she realizes. And..I'll admit I was turning into a jerk like she used to be, and that's not something I want..."
"Well sounds like you're doing much better now..don't beat yourself up over it." You reassured him.
His shoulders relaxed. "I'm..trying not to....so [y/n], do you think we could meet up in person? Like at your dorm? I...feel like we haven't talked face-to-face in a while."
"Sure! I got nothing planned later so....see you in a few hours?"
"Sounds good." He smiled. "See ya."
The call ended as your rotomphone dropped back onto the table. You picked it up and stared at the case, feeling giddy about seeing him again after so long.
And to think when you first arrived here..you felt nothing but tension whenever he was in the same room as you, feeling the negative vibes rolling off of him like an aura of Bitter Malice.
You were glad those days were gone and he was your friend again.
"Pon?"
"Huh? Ogerpon..? You were here the whole time??" Surprised, you glanced over to see the grass legendary sitting on the ground beside you, being sure to stay clear of the camera view. She lowered her mask and looked at you with a knowing smile.
Considering the way Kieran freaked out when you brought her into the championship battle (not to mention him doing everything in his power to knock her out)...you would've thought she'd never wanna see or hear from him again--especially since her "betrayal" was still a fresh wound.
Yet apparently she was listening to your entire conversation with him, and had this understanding look to her starry eyes.
"Pon, ponnn?"
"Huh?" You blinked. "You wanna..see him, too? Are you sure?"
She hopped to her feet, nodding eagerly before pointing in the direction of the academy.
"Okay. Maybe..it'll be a good thing." A smile appeared on your face, although in the back of your mind you hoped that seeing her again won't scare Kieran too much.
...........
"Okay, so the Golurk congregate here....and they're usually guarding the Goletts.."
Back in your dorm room, you were just jotting down notes about recent Pokémon outbreak sightings. Ogerpon was sitting on your countertop, swinging her legs while munching on a bowl of her favorite berries you've found for her throughout Kitakami.
Right as she finished the last one, there was a knock at the door, and you both immediately knew who it was. She was a little nervous, but you reassured her that things will be okay before you went to answer it.
Sure enough Kieran was on the other side. He's never been to your dorm until now, and as he walked in was surprised and intrigued by all the stuff you had hung up on the wall.
"Excuse the mess." You chuckled, closing the door.
"Don't worry, my dorm's worse." He shyly smiled back at you, although his expression faltered as his gaze went to a certain legendary..
He immediately tensed up, not out of anger.....but like he was expecting her to use Ivy Cudgel at any given moment. "What's the Ogre doing here--wait, no..that sounded rude. I'm sorry."
"No, no. It's fine. There's actually something we've been meaning to talk to you about."
"..oh?" Turning back to you, he tilted his head.
"So Ogerpon overheard our little chat earlier, and she wanted to see you."
"She did?"
"Yeah," you nodded, feeling your heart start to race with anticipation. "And..um...maybe it's easier if she explains."
Kieran was confused as you gestured to Ogerpon, but his eyes went wide when she approached him. With no mask on, she wore a confident expression as she handed him...
A pokeball?
No..
It was the pokeball you caught her in.
"What is this? Some new trick you taught her?" Looking to you for an explanation, all he could see was your smile. "Why isn't she...afraid of me?"
"Because she knew you were trying to make amends with everybody." You patted her head, beaming. "I think she finally recognizes you as a strong Pokémon trainer, and...she wants to be yours."
".....huh?"
"She wants to be yours." You repeated, watching as he tried to process this information. And his jaw damn near dropped to the floor, but he closed his mouth and shook his head.
"Y-You're joking, right?"
"Nope. We both decided that she's ready for a new partner. Someone who's believed in her side of the story since-"
"No, no, no..I..I-I can't do that.." He shook his head frantically, backing away from Ogerpon. "I'm sorry. But she's yours, [y/n]. She chose to go with you. You passed her test and...I didn't. I was being stupid and selfish and-"
"I think I was being more selfish."
Looking up at you, he blinked a few times.
"Listen, I know everyone likes to say such great things about me...but I'm not some perfect angel." You frowned slightly. "I lied to you, I stole the Pokémon you've idolized for years...and I hurt someone who considered me a friend. You called me out on that and you had every right to."
"........"
"If anybody here needs to apologize..it's me." Bowing your head, you sighed softly. "So I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you, Kieran. I'm sorry for never considering your feelings before. I wasn't a good friend, and I wanna be a better one. So I'm gonna make this right...both of us will."
You looked back up at him, seeing the shock written all over his face. Then you glanced at Ogerpon, taking the pokeball and instructing her to get her masks off the wall. She nodded and did just that.
"You deserve to know what her power is like. The masks, the TMs I taught her...you can have them all. No trades. No strings attached..except for us staying friends, of course."
Finally, Kieran found his ability to speak again, but he was already getting choked up. "[Y/n], the apology is...th-that's more than enough for me." His eyes watered. "I forgive you. There's no way I can take her from-"
"You're not taking her away. I'm giving her to you, silly." You chuckled.
"....I..I still don't know if I can accept that. I'm not worthy of her even looking my way anymore. I was disrespectful to her wishes, I stole her mask..a-and you're saying...she forgives me?"
"I think she's gonna let bygones be bygones. Isn't that right, 'pon?"
"Ponio! Pon!" With her masks together, Ogerpon gazed at you, nodding confidently. You could only smile back as you patted her head again, seeing that she was ready for a new adventure.
You've trained her well, helping her grow stronger than ever before as you've mastered her abilities with all four masks.
But now it's time that someone else had the chance to bond with her...
Someone like Kieran.
After sending her into the pokeball for the last time, you gazed at the purple-haired boy. His whole body refused to move, so you approached him and took his gloved hand, placing the device snuggly into his palm.
For the longest time, he stared at it, and then he looked back at you. "A-Are you sure I can't just...keep her for a day and then give her back?" He began to sniffle, face growing bright red. "Because if...wh-what if she doesn't-?"
"I want you to have her permanently." Knowing what was coming, you brought him into a tight hug, feeling him wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. "Don't worry. She's gonna love you, Kiki." You rubbed his back. "She trusts you now. She's all yours."
All he could do was nod, your shirt getting soaked by his tears as he hiccupped, thanking you over and over again. He wasn't bawling loudly like before, but he still had a tough time keeping himself together; so you led him to your bed where he was more comfortable.
You're 99% certain this poor guy's never received a hug in his life, given how he refused to let you go. So you allowed him to hold onto you for as long as he needed or wanted.
At last you got out all of the things you've been meaning to say to him...and even Ogerpon got to apologize in her own special way by wanting to be his partner Pokémon.
You thought this would have been too much for Kieran to handle, but you could see he's grown a lot and that he was ready to accept this huge responsibility.
Terapagos will remain with you, and Ogerpon will be his forever.
After everything that's happened, it's what he deserves.
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mountainsandmayhem · 10 months ago
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Masterlist - all 18+
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Little Dove (18+, Minors Do Not Interact)
After your daughters go off to college, you and Joel become empty nesters in your early 40's. The two of you take advantage of all this alone time, falling into a Sub/Dom relationship and exploring new kinks. No outbreak, these are characters in their 40's with real bodies. See each chapter for content warnings. Tags include: use of nicknames (little dove, baby, etc.), unprotected p in v, edging, bondage, spanking, consensual non consent, cum play, toys.
BDSMaid (18+ Minors, Do Not Interact)
After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.
Moulin Rouge - AU (18+ Minors, Do Not Interact)
Joel takes up a job as a maintenance man at the Moulin Rouge. He's glad to finally have enough money to get by day by day, but when he sees you, the Sparkling Diamond, the whole world melts away and all that matters is you, even if you are promised to another. A/N: I'm writing this with @mermaidgirl30. She will be posting it on her account. See each chapter for content warnings. Tags include: oral, p in v, fingering, praise, use of nicknames (Darlin', baby girl, etc.), non consensual touching and misogynostic language (not by Joel).
Wings. Fire. Magic. - AU (18+ Minors, Do Not Interact)
You just needed one dragons egg, one egg and you could turn the life of you and your family around completely. But when Joel Miller captures you, it turns out that it's his life that gets turned around. See each chapter for content warnings.
One Shots
Shhh…Just A Little Bit More (DBF!Joel) Shhh...Just A Little Bit More 2 (DBF!Joel) Shhh...Just A Little Bit More 3 - Soft (DFB!Joel) Shhh...Just A Little Bit More 3 - Spicy (DFB!Joel)
Happy Easter, Joel Miller (Husband!Joel) Sunday With Your Dad's Best Friend (DBF!Joel) A Lesson In Learning (Dom!Joel) God Bless the She Devil Who Made Joel Miller (BFD!Joel) Right Person, Wrong Time (Joel Miller Fluff)
Tess’s Treasures (MFFF)
Joel Miller: Period Master (Joel Miller Fluff)
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One Shots
Wonderful Tonight Netflix & Chill Aisle Amore
Just One More, Baby
Beach Babe
Please, Sir
🤓 Mayhem’s Reviews 🤓
Book reviews/recommendations for what I read that month
July
August
September
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A pirate's life for me
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11
Prompt: Cabin
Rated: M
Tags: Pirate AU; Implied child abuse; Flirting; Sexual tension; Dubcon if you squint, Steve is very into it, promise; Fade to black sex
Notes: Probably not the kind of cabin @steddieas-shegoes had in mind, but I wanted to write more Pirate AU
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When Steve was a little boy, he loved playing pirates. Most little boys do - not that he knew a lot of other little boys. Every time he was starting to make friends, the Royal Navy would send his father to some other port town, and they’d have to move again. Most of the time, it was just him, alone in his bedroom. His bed would be his ship, the canopy its sails. He begged the cook for an old tablecloth and painted a skull and crossbones on it, keeping it hidden in a corner of his closet when he wasn’t using it. In his fantasies, he’d sail off to distant shores and have fantastic adventures, and escape the boredom and the loneliness for a while.
Until his father caught him.
The bruises on his face hurt for weeks, but it was nothing compared to the sting behind his eyes as his father dragged him out into the yard and forced him to burn the flag. Steve didn’t cry - he knew it would only get him into more trouble. Instead, he stood and bit his split lip while his father made him watch the flames, berating him all the while about the bane of the seas that pirates were. Steve would remember his words for the rest of his life.
*
When Steve was a young man, he stole one of his father’s ships and sailed off to assemble his own pirate crew. Somehow, it felt wildly preferable to the life his parents had planned for him. Join the military like his father, marry a girl his mother picked. He’d choose the freedom of the open sea and a life of adventure over this any day, thank you very much.
He was an idiot, of course.
It took all of a month for Billy Hargrove to turn his crew against him, leaving Steve to float on the ocean in a nutshell of a lifeboat, waiting for death to claim him.
Except it wasn’t death who found him. It was the Devil of the Hellfire.
*
“Are you always this charming?”
Steve flinches back to attention. “Huh?”
Munson uses the half-eaten chicken leg in his hand to gesture at Steve’s untouched plate. His rings glint in the candlelit captain’s cabin, and his dark eyes sparkle with glee.
“Really now, darling,” he tuts. “I saved your life. I nursed you back to health. I’m feeding you the nicest dinner my cook has prepared in months, I even opened the good wine for you, and all you can say is huh? You’d think your fancy tutors would’ve taught you better manners.”
“Apologies,” Steve scoffs. “We never covered the proper protocol for being held captive on a pirate ship.”
Munson, who has just taken a large sip of wine, snorts so hard it comes shooting out his nose. He grabs a napkin off the table to wipe his face.
“Sweetheart, you wound me,” he says, once he's finally stopped laughing. Under the table, a calloused hand slides up Steve’s thigh. “You're not my prisoner, you're my guest.”
“Oh?” Steve crosses his arms. The silk shirt he's been given rustles with it. “Is this how you treat all your guests? Keep them locked up in your cabin? Insist they earn their fare by … whatever the hell this is supposed to be?”
“Only guests as pretty as you,” Munson purrs. His breath tickles Steve’s skin as he leans closer. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I don’t like sharing my treasures.”
He was right about the wine, Steve thinks as a nimble tongue nudges his lips apart and slips past his teeth. It’s excellent. Rich and heady in a way that goes straight to your veins, filling them with liquid fire. He closes his eyes and lets Munson take control of the kiss. There’s nothing else he can do, after all. He’s completely and utterly at the man’s mercy. The thought makes something hot and urgent stir at the base of his spine. Someone moans, a low and needy sound in the silence of the cabin, and Steve realizes with a surge of burning humiliation that it was him. Munson pulls back, lips shiny with spit and twisted into a delighted grin. The hand on Steve’s thigh wanders inwards, and he bucks in his chair.
“What did they teach you?”
Steve blinks. “What?”
Munson chuckles as he hauls them both out of their chairs. It’s only a few steps to the bed, but still, somehow, Steve’s shirt is halfway unbuttoned by the time they tumble into the sheets. Munson scrapes his teeth over his bare neck and chest, and the fire in Steve’s insides stirs.
“About pirates, sweetheart. What did they teach you about pirates?”
Steve thinks of an entirely different fire, of his father’s words ringing in his ears as he forced him to watch it burn.
“That you’re the-” he starts to say, but needs to interrupt himself for another moan as Munson proceeds to open the remaining shirt buttons with his teeth. “-the scum of the seas. Rapists and murderers and monsters with n- … no regard for the law, driven only by your own greed and sinful desires.”
Munson chuckles, looking up at him through long, dark lashes as he starts to mouth at the bulge in Steve’s pants. “And yet, you want to be one?”
Steve shrugs.
“I dunno,” he says around another moan. “Following your sinful desires? Sounds like a much more enjoyable life than the one I come from.”
Munson smiles, wicked and dimpled and intoxicating. “You might be onto something, young sir. Let’s put your theory to the test?”
More holiday drabbles
Steve thinks that his deal with the devil is starting to look more and more agreeable.
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helloliriels · 20 days ago
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HELLOLIRIELS WRAPPED 2024
🎁 36 VIEWS OF LONDON :: a FTH gift for @thegildedbee
A patchwork image of John & Sherlock’s London, as seen through their eyes. This is Plot Without Plot (which I'm told is 'the good stuff'). 😎😋📸 Meant to be taken in bite-size chunks. It is a fully finished fic. I hope you enjoy!
💝 PRETTY in (a Frankly Alarming Shade of) PINK &
🎁 NEVER TRUST TO GENERAL IMPRESSIONS [COVER ART] :: two FTH gifts for @thetimemoves
a.k.a. Never Judge A Book By Its Cover (unless its cover is smexy) 😉 my second FTH gift for their gorgeous fic of the same title!!
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💌 THE REMEMBER ME MAN by helloliriels - (WIP) a continuation of Remember Me {Though Poppies Grow series} ongoing series
🎄 CHOOSE YOUR OWN JUMPER :: (WIP) Experiment at Baskerville. A new fanfic adventure awaits in this holiday special!
🐝 God Save the Queen :: Sussex & bees never looked so dangerous
🐝 Protect the Hive :: A beekeeper has two rules ...
🐝 You've Disturbed a Beekeeper ... :: There’s nothing that I or anyone else can do to stop it now …
💎 Liri's Treasure Chest :: Hoarding treasure from WoW like a dragon, and decided to start making art of my favourite pieces.
✍️ Better Luck Next Time :: (WIP) Mike had meant it in a kindly way ... but John was in no mood for platitudes.
🏆 New Achievement Unlocked! :: a series of bloggable cheevos.
🎭 MAY IS FOR LIMERICKS :: 20+ limericks full of johnlocked angst. Welcome to limerick hell. Inspired by Calaisreno's may prompts!
Found Fandom (Found Family)
Cardiac Arrest
Pining Idiots
Fitting In
Buried Deep
Open Carefully
Awkward
Operation Wedding
Lurid Ringtone
I (May) Have Miscalculated
Made You Look
Weather Together
Smooth Move
(That's Why He Stays)
Five Minutes
Dammit Sherlock
One Last Dance (Inamorato)
Idiot (Affectionate)
Red Pants (I Imagine They Sparkle)
Examine Me
The Dying Detective
C A L A I S R E N O
Forgiven?
✍️ One More Time (With Feeling) for @totallysilvergirl :: Sherlock gets help from another Doctor. A chance to change his answer and maybe even change his future?
✍️ Warm Open :: Siri ... play 'The Game is On' ...
✍️ Open Your Eyes :: FFF#249
🏆 HELLO AWARD SEASON 2024 :: Hey, if Oscar can do it ... we're gonna have a Wilde time!!!
🏆And the award goes to ... Arwamachine
🏆And the award goes to ... Salambo06
🏆And the award goes to ... Ceruleanmindpalace
Where do🏆awards come from?
🏆And the award goes to ... Silvergirl
🏆And the award goes to ... Barachiki
Where do 💧 awards come from?
🏆And the award goes to ... Chrys
🏆And the award goes to ... Floccinaucinihilipilificationa
When You're In 🌍 Fandom Spaces
📜 One Thousand and One (Words on the Tip of My Tongue) :: a poem. John is processing his grief.
✍️ A Johnlocker Walks into Heaven :: insane wish fulfillment
🎭 S4 Goes Wrong! :: The Goes Wrong Show takes over BBC's Sherlock for the 4th season with disastrous results!
Celebrating 167 Works & 375,000 words on AO3! 🎉
2023 | 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | HELLO POETRY | HELLO PODFICS
@johnlocky @chinike @rhasima @fluffbyday-smutbynight @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @ghostofnuggetspast @calaisreno @sarahthecoat @khorazir @iwlyanmw @raina-at @chriscalledmesweetie @7-percent @safedistancefrombeingsmart @kettykika78 @aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain @whatnext2020 @londonlock @lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @a-victorian-girl @naefelldaurk @impalaparkedat221b @dragonnan @loki-lock @gaylilsherlock @inevitably-johnlocked @elwinglyre @jobooksncoffee @amyreadsandstresses @jawnn-watson @holmesianlove @sgam76 @janetm74 @ninasnakie @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @discordantwords @bluebellofbakerstreet @john-smiths-jawline @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitch-adler @lololollywrites @solarmama-plantsareneat @blogstandbygo @justanobsessedpan
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missmugiwara · 1 year ago
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What A Relief
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Summary: fem!reader x Sanji // You convince Sanji to have a friends-with-benefits relationship with you, but it's not like you want to actually date him, right? Right? Warning: 18+, NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, implied sex, very suggestive, friends-with-benefits thing going on Note: I am weak for Sanji! Please enjoy!
It was so stupid.
You knew there was indeed a possibility that this could happen, but you still went ahead and did it. You got too presumptuous. Too confident. You flew too close to the sun. And then you got burned.
But how did it all start?
If you reflected back on it, you weren't entirely sure yourself. It was surprising especially in the way that everything had just blurred together. To put it into filthy words, Sanji became the answer to your booty calls. Okay, well… if you put it more eloquently, you somehow had managed to develop some sort of friends-with-benefits relationship with none other than the cook himself. If you put it even more simply, Sanji became a weekly event - as in, the person whom you could have sex with without any strings attached.
A while back, you set out to sea with the Straw Hat Pirates. They were a wonderful group of friends - they protected you, made treasurable memories with you, and truly accepted you for who you were. You had no complaints whatsoever. As of late, you were becoming a bit bored. A bit needy. Needy in the ways that required a certain relief in the form of pleasure. The thought of having a romantic relationship crossed your mind once or twice, but being a pirate and constantly moving about meant there was no room for that. You accepted that wholeheartedly, but could you somehow attain the romance you sought out?
So a crazy idea crossed your mind.
Could you get one of these fine Straw Hat men into bed? You flustered at the thought of it, and you could tell it was a wild idea when you felt hot and checked the nearest mirror to see your ridiculous expression. How about Luffy? No, he was your captain! He saved your butt on your hometown of Dressrosa. That would have felt too awkward. Then Zoro? Hm, well, he definitely seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't mind doing that and could keep it a secret… but you were too damn nervous to insinuate such an idea to him without feeling utterly humiliated. Franky? He seemed the most mature - wait. Never mind. Him, Luffy, and Zoro were definitely not mature. Usopp, then? No, an instant no. He still struggled to be brave time to time. How could he possibly not chicken out if you asked him?
Hmm.
What about Sanji?
He was so sweet. A good friend. Very good-looking. You never felt embarrassed in front of him. He would treat you so well, and he already did. Plus, he always made goo goo eyes at Nami, Robin, and literally any other woman. It was perfect. Knowing this, he wouldn't get attached to you, and you wouldn't get attached to him… because that's not what you were looking for, right? Exactly!
So when you finally mustered up the courage to ask Sanji, he really was shocked. You stayed behind one evening to help him clean up dishes after dinner. When everyone left you two to complete your chores, that's when you asked. Naturally, you were nervous, face on fire, and averting his gaze. There was a range of emotions mostly on Sanji's part. His jaw dropped. Then after a few seconds (when you were afraid you had broke him), he had launched himself across the room due to the sheer force of a nosebleed. After tending to this nosebleed and him sputtering over and over how he really did not deserve you - the goddess, the angel, etc. - he agreed.
"Oh, I know I'm asking for a lot… but, I would really love if it were you. I trust you so much."
It was kind of cute in the way his eyes sparkled at your words, and a blush fluttered over his cheeks while he had tissues sticking out of his bloody nostrils. To be honest, you wouldn't have had it any other way. It was quite comical. It took a moment longer for him to respond. You gently smiled and held him in your arms as he laid on the floor after his great lift-off.
Finally, Sanji sat himself up. Grabbing your hand, he said, "I am honored, my sweet, and I promise to make you feel like an absolute queen."
Those words were enough to send your heart racing. Sanji was the best. As you two sat there on the floor of the kitchen, faces flustered and having Sanji's head in your lap - you had reminded yourself again that this was simply fun between two friends. That's it. No romance.
You already knew Sanji was a man of his word, but he sure delivered. The first night together was akin to something out of a romance novel, and it was absolute bliss. Sanji removed your clothes slowly and gently, never allowing a single wrinkle to form as he laid them down. He always asked for permission before he did anything, and he always reminded you that if you changed your mind then you could stop at any time. He truly was a gentleman and kept his promise through and through. He whispered soft, sultry things into your ears. When he got more cocky, he'd whisper more sensuous things - things like how he was going to make you sing, make you moan, make you sigh out his name. And every time he did get you to moan, he'd whisper how your noises brought him to heaven. Your heart beat against your ribcage as if it was trying to break free, but you kept ignoring it because all you could focus on was just being his friend.
However, it was such a sweet, addicting high.
His touch was sensual and soft on your skin, the way his hands held you gently as if you were made from glass. Years in the kitchen must have been why his expert hands were so graceful when they roamed, and when they roamed to more inmate areas on your body, you would let out a gentle gasp against his mouth. You had never been held the way Sanji held you.
Kisses were sweet and never done without feeling. They could have brought you to your knees if you already weren't rolling around in bed. Sanji's mouth tasted like cigarettes, but you could care less as the delicious noises of your lips smacking whenever they met or parted took over your brain. Such sweet, velvety kisses were exchanged all night long between pants, between moans, between soft words you and Sanji murmured to each other, between thrusts of Sanji's hips. That incredible high wreaked havoc in your brain when Sanji thrusted over and over into your hips. Your toes curled, you wrapped your arms tightly around him and dug your nails into his back. You begged for him to go faster and harder, but in response you only got a low chuckle from the cook that embarrassed you and exhilirated you deeply.
"I couldn't," he smirked against your skin, "I don't want to be rough and hurt you."
You grit your teeth, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. You let out a low growl as your hand grabbed his hair. This teasing from Sanji was so unexpected - you didn't know there was this side of him.
"Please!" you breathed out, "Just… for me? Please!" you whined.
"Well, who am I to deny such a lady's request?"
Sanji seemed to really enjoy your whining because with that, he catered to your whim and every one after that. He was such a great listener. Sanji continued on and on until you had reached your final high of that evening and climaxed. The room spun, your body feeling hot and heavy. The two of you collapsed onto the bed in the girls' room, taking a few moments of peaceful silence to catch your breaths until you both had relaxed a bit more. You were incredibly thankful your crewmates had gone into town and left you and Sanji to guard the ship alone because you two had laid for a long time in bed after that. Just talking about your dreams, about life, anything really. It felt like hours, and in actuality it really was.
When you finally told Sanji you wanted to get dressed, he got up before you could even fling the sheets over your body. With a wave of his hand, he promptly stated he would make you a pot of tea. He got dressed and then was out the door. You waited until he was completely out of the room before your smile faded into a frown.
So stupid.
You should have known you were going to fall hard for the cook. This kept up for some time. Once a week turned into a couple times a week and then several times a week. You and Sanji kept it secret pretty well. It was something to look forward to as hard as it was to find the privacy. Soon, these little flirty instances were beginning to appear - like a secret signal. You'd sneak past Sanji to cup your hand to his ass to give him a hint you were hungry. He would smirk at you more often.
But hold on - what in the world was wrong with you?
The plan was not to become romantically attached. And the exact opposite of that was happening! You were head over heels. Sanji made you feel so special, and he geninely enjoyed the time spent with you. You were learning all sorts of things about each other and forming a closer bond.
You know what was even more stupid? You literally could not act like a normal person in front of Sanji anymore. Sometimes you dodged him and walked the other way if you ran into him, which was quite often as you were stuck on a ship for most of the time. Your confident vixen attitude was shaken - you couldn't dare touch his cute butt again. You would avoid his gaze. When he passed you a plate at dinner and your fingers accidentally brushed, you would mentally scream in your mind. It took all the strength not to fall apart.
Oh, but why was this happening?!
What were you afraid of? Being emotionally hurt? Afraid of how much of a ladies man he was if you wanted to start a relationship? You could tell Sanji was becoming concerned because you asked for him less and less until it just stopped one day. Everyone could tell you weren't acting normal as you would coop yourself up in the girls room - denying Luffy if he asked you to come play, taking your meals by yourself amongst other little things. Everyone came to check on you. Even Chopper was the most concerned, thinking you were sick. And Chopper was right, but it was lovesickness, and there was nothing he could do to help. It took everything to shoo everyone away.
Oh, but that Robin - who was too smart for her own good sometimes - had finally found you sneaking off to the kitchen one night for a late snack. She could not have been sleeping if she noticed you left the room and then somehow notify Sanji. It wasn't a surprise that she knew. Initially you would have been mortified, but if it had to be Robin then you felt at ease.
So you were digging around in the fridge, not even noticing Sanji entered the room until he called your name. This caused you to flinch and, in attempts to stand up suddenly, you hit your head on the nearest shelf in the fridge. Promplty, you slammed the door shut and gave him a forced grin. Sanji was no fool though. As you reluctantly greeted him and made a mad dash for the door, he swiftly stepped over to block it as you bumped headfirst into him. Sanji looped one arm around your waist as the other caught your wrist when you pressed your arms up to his chest to push him off.
You could feel your face heating up and your heart thundering in your ears. For a few seconds, you both stood there in awkward sielnce, waiting for somebody to do something.
"Are you… avoiding me?"
Sanji wasted no time in getting to the point. You didn't like how he asked that question - he sounded so hurt. Your lips trembled, and you felt so damn frustrated that you could cry then and there. You never wanted to hurt him! But it's not like you had anywhere special to go, so… you realized you probably should explain yourself.
"Yes." you answered quietly.
Sanji let out a deep sigh, and he moved so that he could grab both your arms. Gently, he pulled you away from him to stare into your eyes. He gasped when he saw you actually were crying. You sniffled and frowned at him, brows furrowed together in dismay as you waited for him to speak. It was as if he instantly knew. As soon as Sanji spoke, he was referring to the current status of your relationship.
"Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you, my angel?"
"No!" you responded immediately, "No… you've been perfect. I just…" Sanji leaned forward, using his finger to gently wipe the tears collecting at your lower eyelid. It was cheesy, it was cute, it was freaking great! You grabbed his hand and turned your head from him.
"This!" you squeezed his hand, "This… stuff you do. I can't keep lying to myself anymore."
Were you making sense? It was all garbled. You finally let go of Sanji's hand, only to have him move his hands to the base of where your jaw met your neck. He tilted your head upwards to look at him. You knew you were making no sense, but Sanji stayed calm and cool.
"What do you mean? You know you can tell me anything."
You let out a sigh, mustering up the courage to look him straight in the eye.
"Look, I really, really like you. I said no strings attached… but I changed my mind. I want more. I want us to go on a date. I want us to actually be together."
With that you snapped your eyes shut, fearing of how he might respond. Would he be okay with that? This man who craved any woman? You waited for what seemed like an eternity, but when you felt his hand cup the side of your face and motion you to look up at him… you realized there was such a look in his eyes that was indescribable.
"I would love nothing more than to be yours."
A smile lit up your tear-stricken face as you clapped your hands over his - still gently caressing your face, "Really?"
Sanji gently pulled your face closer, a smirk playing at his lips.
"Really."
There was a pause.
"What a relief!"
And Sanji gasped when you suddenly grabbed the back of his head to smash your lips against his. He melted into the kiss, but when you released him after a few seconds - he had the biggest grin. You just stared at him so sweetly, brushing a strand of his golden locks from his face as he stood in awe like a lovesick fool.
"So… can we…? You know? I mean, unless you don't want to!"
You stroked his cheek with your thumb and let out a sigh after a roll of your eyes. Oh, Sanji - the poor thing. You had him on a leash, and he worshipped the ground you walked on. As you gently grabbed his hand and led him to the door, you smirked.
"You're lucky I like you so much."
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bachissidehoe · 11 months ago
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A love triangle with Nagi & Reo
Nagi just never told you how he felt, feelings would be a hassle. Especially when he considers the thought that you may not return them, and then he has to deal with the hassle of losing you in his life. He’s known you since middle school, where you were the reason he studied hard enough to make it into this school. You let him live his lazy life, give him company when he wants it and leave him alone when he would rather keep to himself. He can’t imagine a better life than one with you.
Reo met Nagi and felt an instant connection. Nagi is not only exactly what he’s been looking for as a soccer player to take their high school team to the top, he’s also everything Reo wants in a partner. Someone who can match him in talent, make him think differently about himself and the world, and someone to fight for. All Reo has ever wanted is to be with someone who doesn’t care about his money, his grades- someone who isn’t trying to use him for personal gain. And Nagi is just perfect, he doesn’t need Reo at all, and Reo can’t imagine anything better than that.
You really didn’t want to fall for Reo, he’s every girl’s dream boy. Hot, smart, athletic, and kind (and rich), he checks every box. But literally everyone wants him, he can get anyone he wants, it was so inconvenient when you found yourself falling for him right along with everyone else. But how could you not? When he takes you by the hand to let you sit front and center at his practices and games, when he thanks you for taking such good care of his “treasure” (your best friend Nagi), when he flashes you a gorgeous smile as his eyes sparkle. You feel special every time he talks to you, looks at you, gives you even the slightest bit of attention. You can’t imagine anything better than someone who makes you feel loved like Reo does.
*****
“I have to tell you-”
“I have to tell you something too.” Reo interrupts you, his expression full of urgency yet slightly relieved, assuming he knows exactly what you’re about to tell him.
Truthfully, you decided it’s finally time to confess to him, it’s been long enough. He should at least know, even if he does reject you.
“Okay, you go.” You smile, urging him to go first. Your heart races, hoping he’ll return your feelings before you even have to deal with the embarrassment of confessing.
“I- I really like Nagi.” Reo says confidently. He’s nervous, but he stands tall. He shouldn’t feel so nervous about feelings like this, he always gets what he wants, after all.
“I- you-” You stutter, the thoughts flooding your brain faster than you can think of a proper response. It makes so much sense, Reo’s “treasure”, the way he’s expressed wanting to take care of Nagi, how he’s started showing up to drive him to school, how he always tries to get alone time with him. It’s so obvious, and you’ve been hogging him away from Nagi, selfishly acting on your feelings instead of trying to help Nagi explore his own.
“Oh, you’re surprised? I thought I was being too obvious.” Reo chuckles.
“No! It makes sense! I just- um-” You pause, trying to find a way to get through the conversation without crying.
“She wanted to tell you that she likes you.”
A familiar voice interrupts the conversation, where you turn to see your snowy-haired best friend poking his head into the empty classroom. Clearly, he was looking for the two of you, showing up at perhaps the worst time.
“Nagi! No- I don’t- um, Reo was just saying-” You try to save it, try to make this less embarrassing, but all you can do is fight back tears.
“Yeah, he was saying he likes me. I know he does.” Nagi pulls his bag straps tight against his shoulders, standing up tall for once. It’s easy to forget how damn tall he is when he’s always slouching. “But I know you like him, and I like you, and that’s all a hassle, so I left it alone.” He sighs.
“Wait-” Reo starts, processing the information. “You like her, she likes me, and I like you? Oh boy.” He scratches behind his head. “Is that what you were going to tell me, y/n?”
You only nod, still trying to process that Nagi basically confessed to you just now. How could you not have seen it?
You look at Nagi, who looks at Reo, who looks at you. Suddenly, Nagi looks different to you, he’s honestly beautiful. You can’t imagine your life without him, and watching him discover a recent passion has been an amazing journey. Nagi looks at Reo, seeing someone who’s helped him grow into a new person, a person he’s starting to like much more than his old self. A life with Reo in it sounds amazing. And Reo looks at you, seeing a beautiful girl who has supported him every day, giggling and laughing with him and encouraging him to chase his dreams. You haven’t used him for a single thing, thinking only of his happiness.
The three of you stand in a triangle as you look between each other. And you can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah.” You smile. “I like you too Nagi. And I do like you, Reo.” You shrug.
“I do like you y/n. And of course, Nagi.” Reo smiles.
“I like you y/n. And I think I do like you too, Reo.” Nagi cracks a light smile.
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