#The void wants to take away her toys...
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jazminthegamer · 3 months ago
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Mine-💠🩵🪽
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Don’t you hate it when someone tries to take your things??
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chuluoyi · 9 months ago
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✎ baby to the rescue
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman
genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~
note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.
"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"
Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.
If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...
Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!
You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—
—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.
"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"
Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—
"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"
Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.
"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"
No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."
Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—
"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"
You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.
You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"
Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"
You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!
You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.
He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...
Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.
"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"
"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"
"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...
Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—
"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.
The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"
"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"
You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"
He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"
By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:
"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."
After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.
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Epilogue
"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"
Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.
Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.
"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"
Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.
"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"
Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—
Whack!
It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.
"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"
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blacktabbygames · 1 year ago
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Slay the Princess Concept Art
We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)
Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.
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In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.
The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:
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The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.
If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.
We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.
That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:
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You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!
The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.
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Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.
We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.
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There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.
Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.
Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.
First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)
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Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.
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The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.
A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.
The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.
Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.
If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.
An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.
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Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.
Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)
So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.
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Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.
She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)
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And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.
This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.
Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!
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san8ny · 7 months ago
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I COULD BE MOM, (unless you want to be dad?)
?: In which Ellie has been away on a trip, what better ‘welcome home’ gift than delusionally letting her get you pregnant with a strap?
!: Breeding, Praise, Slight spitplay, Strapping, Pussyeating, Obsessed!Ellie, says ‘mommy’ ONCEEEE!
“You can’t.”
Ellie tilts her head, lips falling into a frown, “Maybe if we try enough?”
Was she serious?
“You literally can’t though, Ellie, it’s biologically impossible. You nutting in me doesn’t mean we can have babies.” You roll your eyes, scrolling on your phone before it’s plucked out of your grasp and tossed to the side, “Hey—!”
“You’re so negative.” She smiles, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, shoving you back into the bed so abruptly as she sinks to her bruised up knees. You let out a shiver at the implication of what was to be taken place, eyeing the muddy suitcases near the entrance of your shared bedroom before bringing your gaze to what she was doing, “You haven’t even unpacked yet..”
Wrapping her arms around your hips, she pulls you closer to her ravishing mouth, cooing as she thumbs your swollen folds, “Yeah, but i’m a starved woman, you that surprised?” With that, Ellie digs in.
It was going so well, mouth feeling like heaven on you ‘til she spoke up,
“Biologically, did you know the clit has tens upon thousands of nerves?” She says out of nowhere, lifting her head up to display the lower half of her face soaked with your arousal, and more importantly, sizing up your smart-ass retort from earlier when she asked to breed you. “Fuck off..” You tiredly reply, not finding it in yourself to tell her off how you want, not with the delicious feeling of your stomach beginning to coil in what seems like a long-awaited orgasm— but Ellie’s not feeling nice.
She quickly retracts her mouth away, a dramatic ‘pop!’ from your clit when initially does so. She gets up, jogging over to her suitcases to get something, all while your mouth is gaped at her audacity. You’re eagle-spread like a damn french girl, and she just..gets up?
She quickly returns back, sheepishly kissing your hipbone as a half-hearted apology, except you feel something cold and long slap onto it aswell.
Alarmed, you raise your head and are met with one hell of a sight, Ellie wearing what seems to be a literal death contraption— a long, beautifully sculptured, silicone cock, slightly curved at the end with an adjustable harness wrapped around Ellie’s gamine figure. Was this the reason your wife believed she could suddenly re-write the law’s of nature? You gulp when she slaps it once more against your bikini line, this time, slowly nearing your leaky entrance.
“Biologically, you think maybe ‘yer cunt might break from this?” She utters mockingly, leaning forward to kiss the edge of your lips before she runs the tip of the toy inbetween your folds ‘nice and easyyy’..getting it all nice and most importantly, wet. “Geez, who needs lube when I got one of these bad boys..” Ellie says, before trailing off with a laugh when you don’t seem to be focused on any of her words as she plugs you up.
You’re still finding yourself getting use to the exaggerated stretch of the dildo, it’s beginning to feel like it’s practically splitting you in two. You attempt pathetically at gripping the sheets but find yourself wrapping your arms around Ellie, needily pulling her closer to your still-clothed chest. “A-aaah..”
She smiles at your gasps and whines, your pleasure alone intensifying whatever shes feeling by a ton, even if she wasn’t the one taking it. “Just grab ‘onna me.” Ellie says, voice void of any previous teasing but instead a certain softness, “I won’t be mad, baby.”
You nod, eyes cinched closed when she begins picking up momentum; you almost immediately wrap your legs around her lower back, wanting her even deeper, somewhat understanding what ‘dickmatized’ meant now. “Uhn! Uhn! E-llie!” The redhead chortles at the rhythmic hiccuping of her name, groaning when the sharp pressure of your heels drive further into her back, definitely leaving bruises later, “Just take it slowly, ye—eah? ah! ‘m right here, giving it to my favorite girl..”
You two have been in for a while, and Ellie has you a complete mess, milky fluids forming at the base of her cock each time she bullies her hips into yours, ripping a cute sob outta you. If she could marry you a thousand times over, she would— she really would. If only you saw yourself through her eyes, the sheer and utter helplessness she feels when you’re handling kids, knowing you’d make the best mommy out there, and god, she’s a sucker for you, buying you everything you ever ask because she’s head over heels in-love with your very essence. She’ll build you up everytime you fall and never complain. You were her dream girl.
Speaking of dream, she gently pats your cheek, asking you in a docile voice if you’re still with her, and when you nod back, with lttle pools of crystals forming at the ends of your lashes, Ellie is about to free-touch cum at this point, needing to get you to that point with her ASAP. She runs her thumb over your lip as you instinctively take in her digit, swirling your tongue around it while she quickens up her pace, sinful slaps of skin echoing throughout the humid room and likely to the rest of the home too, a clear indication of how far she was willing to go with you. “I-i’m gonna cum..” you mewl pitifully, tits moving forward eachtime she rams her strap into ‘ya, finally meeting ellie’s gaze somewhat as saliva seeps past your lips, dribbling down the thumb she had on the tip of your tongue. Ellie brings her head down to your shoulder, rocking her hips hard and fast, a slight bulge forming in your lower stomach from how deep she was in your guts, all while her beautiful sounds play in your ear, each little huff and tuff of praise.
“So warm..so soft, y-you’re ‘gna be the end of me, mommy..” Ellie whimpers admittedly when the end of the strap repeatedly stimulates and bumps into her engorged clit, and to put an end to her soft streak, Ellie meanly presses a hand to your lower-belly, forcibly bringing you to, hands down, one of the most pornographic, blissful, soul-shattering orgasms you’ve ever had in a long tome, creaming all over the strap, your thighs and her tanktop. That sight of you alone, also, makes her cum when she finally bottoms out, body feeling limp as it falls over you.
She eventually rolls over you, draping a tatted forearm around her eyes to shield her from the moon beams shining in from your windows. “Why do we even open that one—“ However, upon noticing your steady breathing and occasional snores, she drops whatever she was gonna say, scooting closer to kiss you— lips lingering when she finally pulls back from your cheek.
She never understood when Joel and the other mopey adults around her would complain about marriage, and quite frankly, she doesn’t think she ever will, not until her cold dead body is ripped away from yours.
‘Til then, she was gonna build this family up with you, your future kid’s adoption papers still in one of her suit-cases as she lifts herself up to her elbows and eventually to her feet, retrieving a warm wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up with, especially not having the heart to wake you up.
Not that you could likely still walk after the number she’s done on you.
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ssahotchnerr · 11 months ago
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girl i am BEGGING you to write a hotch story with his beard and reader doesnt know he has it because he never told her and when he comes back shes more in love with him!!! you can take it any direction you want
off guard
hehehe 🤭 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, heavy suggestiveness, fluff and bearded aaron 😵‍💫<3
after what felt like forever, came the long awaited knock on the door.
"finally." you breathed out as you threw the door open, immediately tucking yourself into aaron's chest and wrapping your arms around his middle.
the longer he was in your hold, the more you tightened your arms - as if you would blink and he'd be right back in pakistan, miles and miles away from you yet again.
it was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. the moment you received the message aaron was back in the states - prematurely and under urgent circumstances - you had insisted the second he had wrapped up, no matter the time, to come directly and strictly to your apartment.
lucky for you, he had already planned on doing so regardless.
"god i missed you." aaron sighed out in relief just as much as you, the empty void in his heart filling at last, making him feel whole again.
he had spent countless nights fantasizing of you being in his arms, the feeling near and distant simultaneously, as if he could reach out and grasp it. for the first month overseas, he had difficulty sleeping even, so used to sleeping beside you - the familiar weight of you laid on him, matching his breathing to yours, or the fact you were simply near.
the longing for you had been torturous. and at last here you were, right where you belonged.
"i almost can't believe it," you mumbled into his t-shirt, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "five months was too long. too, too long."
you loosened your hold, just enough to peer up at him, just now getting a look at him. however, you found yourself taken aback, any eased, impending cries halting at once.
it was your aaron - your loving, wonderful aaron - staring back at you, but it didn't look like him.
his hair was longer, his body a bit more lean, but the major difference; a beard graced his face.
you've seen aaron with some stubble - not shaving during a weekend off, or his occasional five-o-clock shadow. but that was the result of a mere few days. this was months in the making, and it wasn't unwelcome in the slightest.
endless words could describe the sight before you, but your mind and mouth had run both dry. it was hot, to put it bluntly.
"jack hates it too." aaron admitted as his hands fell to your waist - not daring to part contact, mistaking your hesitancy for dislike. "i was going to shave it, but you did say to come right over-"
"hey- no." you blurted out, blinking up at him. "who said i hated it?"
his eyebrows furrowed, surprised. "you don't?"
"absolutely not," you insisted, looking almost offended at the proposition. you touched his cheek, feeling the coarse hair under your soft fingertips and igniting something deep within you. "quite the opposite, actually."
"really?" a pleased smirk formed on his face, his eyes darkly intrigued and amused.
"just when i thought you couldn't get more attractive." you smirked right back, toying with his shirt. "trust me, i like it more than you know."
aaron's fingers dug into your hips, backing you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind with his foot.
"please tell me you have tomorrow off, because you won't be stepping outside this apartment if i can help it." you pleaded, your voice coming out as an eager whine.
"well, the team is to be evaluated by the senate committee, hearing date pending. so for the foreseeable future," aaron bit down on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm all yours."
"good. mainly because i missed you, but that," you eyed his beard again, a heavy breath escaping you. the ends of your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and aaron's lips found yours hungrily. as he frantically continued to back you towards the direction of your bedroom, you mumbled into his lips. "we can have fun with that."
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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago
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yk how in one of your girls Ellie mentioned she got off to reader and was thinking abt her all day while she was gone… can u plz plz plz writing something about Ellie rubbing one out to reader OR OR writing one of Ellie’s solo vids since she said she did solo when Julia left.. I just love seeing Ellie pleasure herself I need it so bad..
an: I literally have a paper that I need to write that’s due TONIGHT but I’m doing this first because it’s more important 😌
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, solo!ellie, fingering, horny!Ellie, dirty talk, Ellie fantasizes about reader, this all takes place in the second chapter of my camgirl!Ellie series, Ellie has sensitive nipples bc I said so, pure smut with little plot, slight sugarmommy!Ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!
Ellie was bored out of her fucking mind.
She was always bored when you were at work, to be honest, but she usually had Julia to entertain her. She would usually text or call her, invite her over to get a quick video in, anything to fill up the time where the apartment was void of you.
That was out of the question now.
She tried everything. She tried making herself something to eat, which she ended up burning. She tried watching tv, but there was nothing on that she liked. She tried playing video games, which resulted in her screaming at some fucking incel half way across the world for being a fucking idiot. Hell, she even tried putting herself down for a nap like she was a child, which once again failed.
Ellie was getting antsy, wanting nothing more than to just be with you, be in your presence. And that's fine, because you and her are friends! It has nothing to do with the fact that ever since you had agreed to being her temporary partner, she couldn't seem to get you out of her mind.
That wasn't it at all...
She let out a gentle huff of annoyance, seemingly the hundredth one for the day, as she got up from the couch in the living room and made her way to her bedroom.
Ellie fell back into the soft comforter on her bed, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she stared up at the ceiling for a moment before she turned over to grab her phone to check the time, which only made her groan out in frustration.
You wouldn't be home for another four hours.
This had to be some kind of cruel and unusual punishment, why were you still even working! Ellie had told you time and time again that she was making more than enough to support the both of you, and now you were even entitled to it! You were helping her bring it in! She hated how stubborn you were when it came to the topic.
She just wanted to take care of you...
You deserved to be spoiled. You spent so much of your time at the record store, slaving away to posers who usually belittled you for being a woman in the music business, wanted to get into your pants, or both, and she hated it, she always had.
She fantasized about never letting you lift a finger, always telling you that she would take care of it. Ellie never wanted you to worry your pretty little head about anything, regardless of if you agreed to make content with her or not.
Ellie would never say it out loud, but the idea of spoiling you made her weak in the fucking knees.
And she isn't entirely sure how it lead to her hand resting on her waist, toying with the sliver of skin thats peeking out between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweatpants, slender fingers slowly creeping beneath them as her hazy, lust filled eyes stare down at her own legs splayed out on her bed...
Although she is sure of how it happened, she knows that with thoughts of spoiling you, come other thoughts of you, because suddenly she's thinking of you settled between her legs, wide eyes staring up at her, eager to please, wet tongue lapping at her soaking wet core, pretty lips wrapped around her throbbing clit.
Or maybe she's thinking of something else, maybe she's thinking about you straddling her, bouncing on her cock, back arched as the sweet sound of your pretty moans fill up her room, paired with the noise of your skin slapping against her own. She can practically feel your soft, supple skin spilling out from under her large hands, she can't help but feel and squeeze whenever you're around.
And suddenly, Ellie isn't so bored after all.
Because her sweatpants are long gone, tugged off and throw somewhere in her room along with her soaked boxers. Her t shirt it pushed up, revealing her perky tits and pebbled nipples, the cold air in her room alone making them harden, making her hiss as her skilled fingers work on her soaked core.
She isn't laying down anymore, instead she's propped up a bit, her back resting against her pillows, eyebrows furrowed as her fingers work on her clit, abusing the poor sensitive numb as she rolls sharp circles into it. Ellie was never careful with herself, not like she was with you. She liked being rough when it came to her own weeping pussy, making it all red and sore, sopping wet and begging for more.
"A-ahh...f-fuck...just like that baby...mmhh...right there...dont fucking stop.." She groaned out, eyebrows furrowed, freckled cheeks flushed.
Ellie always prided herself on her filthy mouth. She could feel the way your pussy fluttered around her fingers or her tongue whenever she said something particularly dirty, so of course when thinking about you, her words didn't cease.
Her head fell back against her pillow when she pushed two fingers into her drooling pussy, a long, loud string of moans leaving her swollen lips as she called out for you, your name becoming her own personal chant as her eyes fluttered shut..
"Fuuuuckkk...that's it baby...f-fuck....fuckin' take it...thats it...thats my good girl" She shuttered out, struggling to form full sentences as she brought her eyes back down to the mess between her legs.
She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, one of her hands coming up and ghosting over her hard nipple, making her whine softly before she pinched it, making her eyes wince as she thrusted her hips up to meet her fingers, wanting them to go deeper into her weeping core.
Ellie let the images of you run through her head. She imagined you on top of her, grinding your perfect pussy onto hers. She imagined you underneath her, your ass bouncing against her thrusts as she fucked her cock into you, drilling you from behind.
But what really did it? Was imagining that her fingers, were yours.
"M'gonna....you're gonna make me fucking cum...o-oh my god...yeah...yeah right there....fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Ellie called out, her back arching as she felt her orgasm right there on the edge, the feeling she was chasing after dangling right over her head, so close she could practically fucking taste it...
Practically taste you.
Ellie screamed out your name, her hair messy as she pressed her head further into the pillow, her orgasm washing over her so intensely, it was almost fucking painful.
She struggled to catch her breath, hazy eyes staring down at her hand as she slowly rubbed her clit, riding out her orgasm as soft little hums and moans left her lips, almost liking the overwhelming feeling of sensitivity that came after she orgasmed.
Ellie sighed softly, looking over at her phone and checking the time, seeing that she still had a little less than four hours until you got home.
A little less than four hours to do what she just did, over and over again.
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peoniesnro · 2 months ago
Text
After the End| One shot
Sequel to Closure
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Synopsis- You’ve lived your whole life haunted by monsters—relentless, painful, and unyielding. But your life changed at a winter carnival, when a fortune teller told you that your fate was woven with a man you’ve never met before. Kim Taehyung. Your life changed when she asked you to choose wisely this time because the last time, you and he couldn’t do it.Taehyung changed everything. He brought light to your darkness, hope to your despair. But that light came with shadows of its own. Because he wasn’t yours to keep. Now, all you want is one thing: not to fail this time. To rewrite your story and make the ending yours.
Alternatively
In which you finally get that one chance to tell each other- I love you- once more.
Paring- Kim Taehyung × Reader
Genre - Past lovers to ??/ Reincarnation
Warnings-TW- Hallucinations/ Auditory hallcinations/ Past abuse/ Suicidal thoughts. / Language/ SMUT- Make out/ Breast play/ Some public stuff/ Oral (M.recieving) (while driving)/ Oral (F.recieving)/Doggy/ Missonary/ Spoon Sex/ Unprotected Sex/Creampie/ Mutiple orgasms/ Degradation (Slut)/ Bondage/ Overstimulation/ Usage of sex toys/ INFIDELITY
Word count - 16k+
a.n/ Well, this one is requested by lovely @bubu2sworld because she thought they deserved more. So, here I am writing a sequel to my baby CLOSURE, when I never thought I will. Still, if you think the closure ended the way it should you can totally ignore this but to anyone who thinks they deserve more, this is for you. And I'm not sure if you can read this as a standalone because it's kind of connected. Anyway, thank you for the love yous showed you to the closure and I hope you'll like this one as well. ❤️
Read the original here- Closure
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now
Taehyung feels like a void. There’s an emptiness inside his body. He’s certain that he’s no longer made of flesh and bones. There are no organs. It’s just skin. Skin and the emptiness underneath it. He feels hollow. Nothing makes him full anymore. Nothing stirs him anymore. Happiness, love, fear, anger, nothing. Not even sadness. It’s empty. Or maybe it’s all sadness. Perhaps he’s lived with sadness for so long that it no longer feels like an emotion, but a part of him. It’s ripping him apart. It makes him detach from his surroundings. He almost doesn’t notice the figure that entered the living room. It’s only after that person creates a clanking sound does he tear his gaze away from the empty wall he’s been staring at.
It's her. With two wine glasses and a bottle of wine in her hand.
Birthday.
Her birthday.
Taehyung had completely forgotten it.
She has a sweet smile on her face. A smile that is enough to brighten someone else’s soul. Yet Taehyung feels nothing. Not even a flicker of warmth. He wants to see a certain cunning smile instead of that bright one. She stops midway as she takes sight of him. A sigh leaving her mouth. Despair clouding her bright features.
Taehyung is a great disappointment for everyone. He would like to change that yet doesn’t know how. He’s hopeless. Oh, how everything was just fine before that day. He would never call it cursed because no, it was a blessed day. But now, it’s bitter on his tongue that he feels bile rising to his throat.
………………………………….
Now
You sit on the rooftop of your apartment building. At the edge. You’re fifteen stories high. This is your favorite place. It’s empty and free of annoying tenants. There’s no people to ask how you’re doing when clearly, you’re doing worst.
And this is the place you hate the most at the same time. Because, when there’s no other sounds, voices in your head get so much clearer, louder, and inescapable. When there’s no one else around, the monsters who lurk around you become realistic as they’ve ever been.
This is your life. You’ve always lived with the monsters. Always get along with the voices. It has been like that since you were a little girl. Since you started living with your aunt. She never wanted you. And she made sure you knew that. When it all became unbearable, the voices and monsters came to keep your alone soul company. It’s not that they are always there. No, there were better days. There were months. Even years where you lived a normal life. You tried to get help. To make yourself better. But every time something goes wrong, they’d return. Like now. It’s been months since they’ve ever left your side. And there’s only so much pain someone can endure. Only so much sleepless nights and heartbreaks someone can bear. You’ve reached your limit.
You need this unbearable pain to end. Want it to be gone. You want to sleep peacefully even if it’s for a second. You want the bloody lady who’s waiting patiently for your demise, with her face beaten up to a pulp, to leave you alone. She won’t. No matter how much you beg. You hate her.
“Jump! End it. Do it now. You think this pain will go away on its own? It won’t. You’ll suffer forever unless you listen to me.”
She won’t leave you alone till you jump. She has your aunt’s voice.
This is not her. Right?
“No one needs you. No one ever did. You’ve been a burden since the day you were born. Do you think anyone’s life would be worse without you? They’d be better off.”
“Fucking leave, me alone!”
“Jump!”
Oh, how tempting that is. She will leave you if you listen to her.
“Nobody needs you.”
Oh, you know.
“Nobody loves you.”
Taehyung did. He did, right? He loved you. It’s just how things have turned out.
“JUMP!”
…………………………………
Six Years Ago
Taehyung lived a pretty normal life. Ordinary, yet undeniably happy. He had everything. A college degree. An acceptable and highly paid job. Idiotic friends who he loved dearly. Good parents. And above all, a girlfriend who loved him like he was her sun and moon. He lived his life to the fullest. Their story wasn’t the stuff of movies. He didn’t meet her while saving the world, nor were they enemies-turned-lovers, childhood best friends, or two strangers sharing a single bed for a night.
It was simple. Taehyung met her at a Halloween party at a frat house. She looked beautiful. He asked her out and she said yes. And they started dating. Everything was going fine. Until it wasn’t.
Only if he knew that one moment, a fleeting encounter is enough to change someone’s life, he would never have said yes to Namjoon’s invitation to join him at a winter carnival. Well, there was no way he could see the future. He said yes. And he waited till Namjoon arrive. He was with his girlfriend and other two best friends. They laughed and joked. Smoked and waited. He was living his best life. Love of his life pressed against his body. Surrounded by people he loved.
That’s when Namjoon came. Not alone though. He had company, in a shape of a woman who looked like a lilliput next to his friend.
You.
Wrapped in a winter coat that was too big for you. Had a beanie that covered your hair that made Taehyung wondered what color it was. Had big eyes that doesn’t had any light in them. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t bowing. If anything, you stayed stony. Dull. Annoyed.
But hell, how he felt a skip in his heartbeat. Taehyung never believed in the movie effect. It was a dramatic lie they created. In real life, there’ll be no slowing down of time. The world won’t disappear for a fractured second. Sounds won’t lower down into white noises. If it didn’t happen the time he met his girlfriend, then there was no chance of it happening again. He was sure about his love. How wrong he was, though. Because at that split second, it all happened. Everything slowed and blurred away so he can take a good look at you. You only turned slightly to look at him. Then you didn’t look away for that second. You hold his gaze. Taehyung felt his heart beating in his throat. He felt completely enamored by an angel whose wings were clipped. Angel who looked like the devil.
And you gave him a tiniest hint of a smile.
And in that instant, the universe seemed to realign—a stellar collision in the making.
………………………………..
Six Years Ago
You sat at a round table draped in a black tablecloth. That was the stupidest you’ve ever felt. And that was the most foolish decision you've ever made. You normally made a lot and that said everything about how stupid it was to sit inside a tent of a fortune teller. In a stupid carnival. It was the idea of the guy who was in all black. Tattoos and piercings. Later you learnt the name to be Jungkook. That day you hated his guts for forcing all of you to sit in front of a woman who wore a midnight blue cape. A hood covering her white hair. Her eyes glued specifically on you as all of you settled down. Odd. Yet, she did stare at you from the very moment you reluctantly entered the tent. Unsettling.
There were stars dangling from the tent’s ceiling and smell of burning incense gave you a headache. And the smoke had made you dizzy. It all looked funny. Everything. The woman was a fraud, you were certain. But Jungkook guy was excited about spending his money over a con-artist. You wanted to leave. Namjoon had his hand on your thigh, though.
You should’ve never agreed to Namjoon’s plans. You weren’t someone meant to be socializing. No, you were someone to isolate yourself from the people. That’s the way you helped yourself. See now, there were your own ways to deal with your own problems. That came in shapes of hallucinations and voices. You had bad and unhealthy coping mechanisms. When neither therapists nor psychiatrists could help, you found the best way to deal with them was to become a bad bitch. Tough. Bad enough so people won’t get close to you just to hurt you in the end. You became selfish so you won’t be hurt when other people are. Being the bad person gave you the control you always seek. The control you never had.
Namjoon should never have brought you there. Not just because you hated it but because that day was what caused your great dismay in the long run.
That day, without even you knowing properly you had started a journey that turned out to be pretty ugly. And beautiful. It started when Jungkook guy showed his hand toward the woman. Palm out. Hoping she would read his future. She had dismissed him. Her eyes was still on you. Felt like glowering competition to you that time. Then right at the time you were about ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with her’, she had spoken in a strained voice.
“Ah, your threads... tangled, woven too tight.”
“Sorry what?”
“Your fates, child. The strands of your lives. Twisted together, bound as one.”
“I don’t understand a shit you’re talking about.”
“You will, in time. Your destiny is knotted with his.”
She had tilted her head to her right. Silver haired man, who was the bad influence on Jungkook’s soul. The other one who had insisted this was a fun idea had perked up. You knew he was Jimin beforehand.
“What? With me?”
“No, not you, dear boy. Him.”
She had pointed a bony finger to the man who sat next to Jimin. The man who had burnt his hand earlier because he accidentally touched the butt of the cigarette he was smoking. All because he stared at you like you were a ghost. No. That wasn’t the case at all. He had stared at you like you were an angel.
You never learnt how to explain that moment. You’ve never seen him before. Not even a glimpse of him. But he had stared at you like he knew you for ages. And you had felt that too. A strange sensation in your heart. A tug. A sting. How it was odd. You never meant to smile at him. You don’t smile at strangers. But you did to him. It was strange.
Then there as you listened to an old fraud talk crap, you had notice he has mismatched eyes. He sat far away from you. The place had shitty lighting. Yet you did notice that. Maybe that was because you were at a staring contest back again. Your heart beating violently and breathing getting ragged.
“You carry the weight of a past undone. Shadows of a life lived before. A tragedy. You’ve crossed paths now to mend what was broken... or to fail once more. Beware. Cycles repeat, and pain lingers. Choose wisely this time.”
You almost didn’t hear her. The man across from you was enchanting.
……………………………….
Six Years Ago
“Here’s your drink.”
That was the first moment the man, who apparently carried unresolved issues from your past life spoke to you. While placing a hot cup of cocoa on the picnic table in front of the food stall. You were looking at the Ferris Wheel. Glinting with thousands of multicolored tiny lights. How magnificent. Yet you knew it won’t look the same in the morning. It was an allusion. Another scam. Without the tiny lights it would look hollow. Like how you were. If anyone could’ve stared deep into your soul, or if anyone could see your bare soul, they would see how ugly you were. How scarred and hollow you were. You’ve been thinking about that when the intrusion had come. You had averted your eyes from the enchanting scene of Ferris Wheel to the man who stood next to you. Had glared at him with skeptical eyes.
“Oh, sorry- Namjoon asked me to take this to you.”
“Thanks.”
You were a well-guarded person. You never allowed others to get close to you. When it was slowly happening, you made sure to hurt them enough that they’ll run away. But it was always better to never let them come close to you than hurting them later. Only exception in your life was Kim Namjoon. So, you were thoroughly annoyed when the man with black hair and mismatched eyes proceeded to sit next to you. It was only you two there.
“I didn’t invite you to join me Mister.”
“Oh, fuck, sorry, I-I…”
He had such an adorable expression. Eyes wide in panic and face starting to flush in embarrassment. You hated how your heart had pained at the sight.
“No... no... I mean that’s fine. Like, I mean, I could use some company.”
And like you’ve never made him uncomfortable; he had grinned widely. He had a boxy smile. Beautiful. You had found a split second of a moment where your guard had slipped away from you. You found it impossible to avert your gaze away from his lips.
“So, how do you think our fates are tangled up? How do you think we’re going to mend what’s broken.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you believe those bullshits too.”
“Bullshits?”
“Yes, Mister, that was a scam. That’s how she’s earning money.”
And he had grinned even more widely. You were being hostile. He didn’t deserve those kinds of harsh treatments. Hadn’t done anything wrong to you. Yet, there he was. Smiling.
“Yeah maybe... maybe not... Namjoon told me you’re a photographer?”
“That’s part time. I just love photography.”
“Well, then maybe you’ll be the photographer in my wedding. That’s how our fates are connected.”
“Oh, you’re getting married soon?”
“No, not soon but I’ll be proposing to her soon. I don’t know when but..”
“Ah!”
For no clear reason, you had felt a pain. A deep sting in your heart. You didn’t want to admit it but strangely it hurt.
“And my name’s Kim Taehyung.”
He had stretched his hand for you to shake. You didn’t. You ignored him completely. Because you felt hurt.
“I didn’t ask for your name.”
“That’s fine. It’s my choice to tell you.”
To your horror, he patted your head then. Your damn head. Over your stupid beany. You never believed the feeling of time slowing down. That moment, though, that happened. You had gaped at him with wide eyes.
His mismatched eyes were the most beautiful you’d ever seen.
And beneath one of them rested a small mole.
………………………………
Six Years ago
After months. For the first time since Namjoon returned you had a night terror that night. Wasn’t the usual one. Instead of running away from your aunt, you saw a flashing lights of a truck. Then you felt the pain. Endless pain. And there was the Taehyung. You saw him crying. Broke your heart into tiny million pieces before you open your eyes.
Your monsters returned that night.
You knew someone was under your bed.
………………………………………….
Five years ago
Taehyung never expected to see you again. He missed you, however. Taehyung didn’t think it was possible to miss someone he had met just for such a short time. To miss someone who was hostile to him for no reason. He did. He missed the stony-faced rude girl dearly. Funny, considering he had only spoken to you for ten minutes at most, exchanging barely fifty words. Yet, you haunted his memories for a year. In a good way. Taehyung thought it was because he was curious. Curious as to know what made you, you. The indifferent one. What stole your light. To know who clipped your wings. Or it was because of the fortune teller. Whatever the reason was, he couldn’t deny that he thought about you quite often.
True, Namjoon was still a best friend of his and he had all the opportunities to ask about you. Yet, he didn’t. He couldn’t—not with a girlfriend and Jungkook’s mention of you being Namjoon’s lifelong crush. He blamed all the messed-up sensations he felt on the winter air and bright lights on the carnival. He always loved the winter. Besides he was comfortable with his girlfriend. There were no reason to ruin that. Only if that was the plan of universe as well. It wasn’t.
He was at his favorite Samgyeopsal place that day. Place always had long queues in the evenings for takeouts. He could’ve ordered online. But the restaurant always messed up the online orders. Every good thing has its tiniest flaw. He stood as the fourth person in the long line when someone cut the line. Pushed their tiny self in between Taehyung and the person in front of him. A scowl formed in Taehyung’s forehead. Was about to confront them when an icy voice muttered an apology.
“Sorry but I’m late to the strip club.”
Late to where?
Then they had turned. Had looked at him with wide eyes. No light in them. Just hollow and dull.
You.
Once again, Taehyung felt the same effects. The hustle and bustle of Samgyeopsal place had vanished. Only person remaining in the room was you. Gaping at him with your mouth adorably open. And he knew you recognized him.
“Oh, you. Taehyung?”
“Uh- Hi!... Didn’t expect─”
“Aren’t you going to yell at me?”
“Yell at you for what?”
“For cutting the line?”
“Oh, it’s fine it’s you.”
“That’s bad Sailor… You need to learn to treat people fair.”
You had said something else. But he didn’t hear them. No. Something was happening to him. Something strange. He was in pain. Not physically. It was internal. His heart was aching. He wanted to hug you. Touch you. Knew you would slap his face hard enough for him to lose some of his teeth if he tried, though. That was the moment he realized he wasn’t just missing you. He was longing for you.
“Hey! Taehyung? You okay?”
“Huh? Yeah, of course. Bu-but I know you, so it’s fine.”
“You don’t know me at all. Three hours spent on a carnival a year ago doesn’t count.”
True. You told the truth. That was the period of time he knew you. Three hours from a long day. A year ago. Yet there he was, fighting the urge to touch you. The line was getting shorter. Sooner you would’ve been the person to take your order and vanish again. He didn’t want that. Something was pushing him to change that. At least you weren’t being so hostile toward him that day.
“Let’s dine in.”
“What?”
“I don’t know you so, let’s change that. Have dinner with me.”
Taehyung had waited with bated breath for you to turn the offer down. You didn’t. All you had done was smirk. And that smirk was cunning. It was the most beautiful he has ever seen.
………………………………
Five years ago
You should never have agreed to have dinner with a stranger. Taehyung was a stranger to you. Handsome and adorable in his sweater, yes. Yet he was still a stranger. Despite everything, you had to stick with one piece of advice your aunt gave you.
Stranger is a Danger!!!!!!
And that was the only time you disobeyed that advice.
You inspected his mismatched eyes while stuffing your mouth. The eyes you’ve missed. It wasn’t possible but you did. It was either your monsters and the voices inside your head or a pair of mismatched eyes and a mole. A boxy grin that kept you awake at night. No matter how hard you tried to keep the thoughts sunk, Taehyung always found a way.
“What?”
“Huh? Nothing. Are you sure your girlfriend won’t mind you being late?”
“Oh, not girlfriend, fiancée. Proposed to her a few months ago.”
Oh.
You had frozen. It was just like that first time. When you sat at a picnic table looking at a Ferris Wheel. It hurt to hear him say he’s about to get engaged. But that time to hear he is finally engaged; it felt like a knife piercing through your heart.
Why?
There was no reason. You didn’t even know him. You were strangers. Was that love from first sight? Bullshit. You never believed in those kinds of fairy tales. You might’ve so broken that you start to feel pain for the things you shouldn’t. But you couldn’t deny that it hurt. Couldn’t deny that you felt angry. For no reason.
“You okay?”
“Yes, of course. So, you had an engagement party and didn’t invite me?”
“Oh, no. There was no party. I just proposed to her. Had Jungkook and Jimin singing ‘All of me’. That was it.”
“Thank God, you didn’t invite me. Can’t stand those two people.”
It was a joke. A distraction from the pain you felt. Taehyung understood it. Showed you that boxy grin. Only thing it did was intensify the pain, however. You needed to leave. Wanted an escape. Felt suffocating to be in his presence. You nearly had it when you excused yourself for bathroom. But life had different plans.
“Oh, I knew it was you.”
Shaky voice had interrupted you. A voice you never wanted to hear in your entire life. You were having chills even before you turn around to confirm that the voice belonged to the same person who made your life a living hell. It was. In a blink of an eye, you were staring into the wrinkled face of your aunt. You abuser.
Despite all the effort you had put into coping with your trauma. Despite how hard you worked to develop a cold heart and a strong mind that won’t break at simple matters, you pathetically started breathing heavily. Right at the moment your eyes landed on her. A loud ‘no’ chanting inside your head. Screams starting to echo. Visions of her bloody face closing toward you starting to cloud your vision. You didn’t know she was saying something. You didn’t hear a thing. All that you heard was the venom in her voice. Over and over again. Like a mantra. The way she asked you to die.
“No… No, fuck no… get away from me.”
You had thought you were saying those words in your mind. In reality though you weren’t. It was a period you lost from your life. Where you weren’t living in the real world but inside your head. Maybe it wasn’t for a long time. But enough for you to cry a river and scream till your throat tasted like blood. You cried for your life. Begging her to save you. Then right at the time you thought there were no escape, it all vanished.
You were sitting on a cold floor of a busy restaurant. People were staring down at you with such horrified looks on their faces. Pity. Fear. You had gaped at them return. The senses finally getting on to you. Your aunt wasn’t there anymore. You felt relieved, for a moment. Then had felt helpless. You had a panic attack in front of so many people. You hated it when they looked at you like you were a wounded, caged animal. You wanted to disappear but couldn’t help the new tears escaping from you. That’s when you felt the warmth behind your back. Next you noted the arms wrapped around your petite figure. Lastly a soothing voice reached your ears.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine. You’re fine. I got you.”
Taehyung was gently rocking you. Like you were a child. Nobody in your entire life had held you like that. Not even Namjoon because you never fell apart in front of him. For your whole damn, painful life you had no one to hold you.
…………………………..
Five years ago
Taehyung had refused to let you go home alone. You were annoyed partially but happy mostly. It was embarrassing enough that he saw what he saw. But he didn’t leave you. No matter how hard you tried that day. Which was a great mistake. He should’ve listened to you. Should’ve left you to manage your own miserable life.
He didn’t. Even though you hated it, you had to let the guy enter your safe space. Your apartment. A place that never felt like home at all. You thought it should’ve felt more pathetic as you sat on the couch. Waiting for a stranger to bring you a glass of water. You should’ve felt more helpless to have been pampered by a stranger in your own house. Strangely though you didn’t. You felt secretly relieved. Because you weren’t alone. You knew, all the voices and monsters were about to mess up your entire night that day. There was no way they would leave you alone after what happened. So, you were grateful for him. Even though you didn’t tell him that.
But then after a few hours of just sitting there in silence, he had stood up to leave.
“Well, I should go then. She... uh- you know, I’m late.”
You panicked. Hard. So hard that you had jumped toward him. Had hold on to his arm before he could take a single step away from you. You were scared. Didn’t want to be alone. Not even for a minute. It was ridiculous how you blurted out suggestions as if it were natural. Like you knew him. As if you hadn’t acted all tough and annoyed at him earlier. The thing is, though, he made you feel safe.
“Want to hit the club with me?”
“What?”
“I mean, it’s going to be fun. Be spontaneous sometimes, sailor. You’re not getting any younger.”
“What? This is bit weird you know?”
“Well, you invited me to have dinner with you. You hold me when I was breaking apart. You sat down next to me in my own house like we knew each other for ages. And you said you wanted to change the fact that we don’t know each other. So, what’s so weird about it?”
In addition to being a bad bitch, you were a good manipulator.
“I… what club? I mean strip?”
“No need to be so worried.”
“Wait? Do you really work as a…”
“What a stripper?”
He hadn’t answered that. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips though. And it was enough to heal your scarred soul.
“No.. I’m not. I was about to go there as a punter. To a male one. But we’re not going there. We’re going to a normal one. You know, where there’s no show going on for you. Would’ve preferred the strip cub though.”
You had no intention of clubbing that night. You loved clubbing. Getting drunk. High. Stoned. Then getting laid. You did that on the worst nights, though. That night you had thought it would be a good one. Well, things always changed. Yet, Taehyung didn’t need to know that. You didn’t want him to leave you alone. You had waited with bated breath. Heart pounding violently in your rib cage. Then after some long few tortures minutes he showed you that adorable boxy smile.
“Yeah, sure why not. But why though? Why now? Wouldn’t sleep help you the best.”
“It would, but I need someone to exhaust me to sleep. So, sailor, we are going hunting.”
………………………………….
Five years ago
Taehyung didn’t know what had happened to you earlier. He didn’t know what caused it. Only that he panicked too. That he wanted to help. While you broke down the floor, he had made sure to force that old lady out of the place. He didn’t know who she was. But maybe, he thought, that she was the person who had stolen your light.
And in the end, when you asked him to join you for a club, all he wanted was for you to feel better. Couldn’t say no to your eager eyes. Or simply he was reluctant to let you go.
So, he joined you at a club. And had watched, watched, and watched. Sitting at a stool near the bar while sipping on a neat whisky. It burnt his throat, yet he couldn’t feel it. His eyes were on the dance floor. On the figure there who was tangled up with a strange man.
He felt bile rising up to his throat. Regretted ever agreeing to come with you. He felt so fucked up at the sight of you grinding shamelessly with another man. It was a mixture of feelings. He felt bothered. An urge to rip you away from the man who was squeezing your ass cheeks like there were no tomorrow. Then he felt a stir in his lower stomach. Which had nothing to do with feeling bothered. No. It had everything to do with the way his heart was beating madly. About to leap away. It had everything to do with how he couldn’t look away, no matter how much he wanted to.
You were fucking captivating. Dancing under the disco lights. Your movements were deliberate. The way you swayed your hips. The way you had wrapped your hands around the stranger’s neck. Your lips an inch away from him. Taehyung knew the stranger must be smelling the alcohol on you. Taehyung knew the stranger must be feeling your soft breaths on his lips. Knew it must be tingling. You had your perfect breasts pressed against the stranger’s chest. Taehyung knew they must be feeling so soft. You had your hips tightly pressed against the stranger. And so, Taehyung knew the stranger must be having the time of his life by feeling your soft flesh against his hardened dick.
Taehyung shouldn’t have thought about that in the first place, but he did. And it wasn’t that he thought about the way the lucky bastard might feel. No, Taehyung was simply imagining it himself. Watching you move from a distance, and he was imagining it was him. With you. It was him having the time of his life while pressing his hardened dick on to your soft skin. Hardened? Yes, he was rock hard. His pants were too tight in his crotch area. Too hard and the bulge visible that he had to turn away immediately to hide it from your view when you suddenly returned.
“Hey there sailor, enjoying the night?”
“Eh, can’t complain.”
“That’s not the answer I’m looking for. Want to join me for a dance?”
“Oh, No. No... I’m fine.”
“Yeah? Fine by me then.”
“Why’d you leave? Looked like you’ve caught your prey tonight, hunter?”
“You’ve been watching?”
“Uh- no- I- I just saw.”
“It’s fine. He is the catch but it’s a game.”
“Game?”
“Mhm. When you want to have good night- I mean a kind of night where you would fall asleep right away, you need to make them desperate.”
You leaned forward. Closer to him. You didn’t sit down on the empty stool. Bent down instead. It was a bad idea. Or maybe the bad idea was Taehyung letting his gaze averted from your face to your chest. Your low neckline was doing a poor job hiding what’s inside. Taehyung’s brain malfunctioned. His mouth went instantly dry. A whimper nearly escaped him at the sight of that delicious cleavage. Perfect. So, fucking perfect. Only he could’ve buried his face in it right there. Only if he could’ve smelled you. And you made it worse.
“So, I would give them a taste and leave Mr. Kim.”
It was a whisper against his ear. A shiver ran down his spine. It had been a great struggle for him to find his words.
“W-wow, y-you’re a vixen.”
……………………………………
Five years ago
You had frozen. Entirely. A sharp pain coursing through your entire body. Intense and unrelenting. It wasn’t entirely physical, but you felt it reverberated through every cell of your being. For a minute, it was like you were having a heart attack. And you were distraught. It felt like grief, as if you'd lost someone dear. That pain was deeply etched to your heart. You were certain that you’d never be able to escape that sensation. Even your eyes started to sting again. Pricking with unshed tears. You could’ve cried. Could’ve made a fool out of yourself for a second time that day. Taehyung had saved you, though. Distracted you with a shaky inhale of his breath. When you turned your sorrowful gaze to him, he was no longer looking at your face. His eyes were fixed on your breast. At the skin that was revealed to his eyes.
You had thought you imagined it when you saw him eyeing your cleavage earlier. He wouldn’t do that right? But he was. Shamelessly staring. And a shiver ran through your body. Made you visibly tremble. The painful sensation you were feeling replaced with something more sinful. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. Roam across his broad figure and stop right under his torso. Fuck! He was hard. Bulge visible. His pants was straining against his hardness. You thought you had conflicting emotions at that moment. Part of you believed he wouldn’t do that. And the other part thought you might not be the reason. Then he changed it.
“Does it work every time?”
When you looked back at his eyes they were on fire. His mismatched eyes. His beautiful brown orbs were burning with desire. Your knees buckled under the intensity of that gaze.
“Course, it does. What, do you think it won’t work on you?”
It was a dangerous game you were playing. Among every little thing you couldn’t take, rejection always held the first place. You might’ve been reading the signs wrong. And the entire situation was so wrong. Not that you cared. You were a bad person. You had done far worst things in your life. However, you believed Taehyung might have cared. He seemed like a good guy. Loyal. So, you had brace yourself for the inevitable rejection when his next words came as a whisper.
“Maybe… We should try find out.”
“You want me to try that on you?”
“Please.”
That was it. It was all Taehyung’s fault. You couldn’t hold responsible for your actions. You were the bad guy, and he was supposed to be the good one. He asked for it. And you, a horny woman who was far too broken to think about morality, had no control over denying that. Above all, you really knew how to play.
“Sure thing, sailor. It’s easy, like this.”
You angled your head, so you were facing him properly. Still, bent down. Made sure you were only millimeters apart from his pink lips, when you spoke again. Wanted him to anticipate a kiss you never were about to give.
“Men are easy you know…”
You placed your hand on his shoulder. Felt smug and proud when he slightly shuddered. When his muscles tightened under your barely there touch.
“Flashing my tits always make it easier… but this way it’s better.”
Dragged your palm down through his chest. He waited patiently. Swallowed harshly. Eyes never leaving yours. You dragged your palm down, down, and down. Through the expanses of his sculptured chest and abs. Didn’t even hesitate a bit when you hovered your palm over his crotch. Fighting with yourself not to lose your control and give in right there. Kept your hand there for a few seconds.
“And this is the part I love the most, sailor.”
You changed the position of your hand instantly. The poor guy nearly whimpered. Only for a moment though. You never gave him time to mourn the loss when you were grabbing his hand.
“Please.”
You made sure you mumbled that one word in a way it spills liquid neediness into his brain. Then at the same moment you raised his hand up. Pressed his palm into your left breast. Gave him full privilege of touching your soft mound completely. He moaned. He fucking moaned. So did he understand what you meant by ‘please’. You didn’t expect him to jump into action right away. He did and you failed not to moan as well. He squeezed your soft flesh while his breathing got ragged. He did it over and over, repeatedly. You allowed that to happen for how long you have no idea. You almost didn’t want it to end. Were simply falling into an ecstasy under his touches. What brought you into reality was when his lips grazed over yours. You withdrew fast as thunder. Completely. Pushed his hand away. Took a moment to compose yourself.
“Not so easy sailor, you should try harder.”
Turned around and walked away with your heart pounding in your throat.
………………………………..
Five years ago
Taehyung had sat there motionless. He was sure his brain was broken. Oh God, everything about this was wrong—what he’d done. But his real problem lay elsewhere. Crossing moral boundaries didn’t seem to strike him as a bad thing. He had his gaze fixed on your retrieving back. On the sway of your hips. The way you never even looked back. You disappeared at a corner. He knew you went to the bathroom. There was a possibility that you might not return to him. And it hurt Taehyung. Both in his chest and lower. His cock was so hard inside his pants. Hard it hurt. Your breast felt so soft in his hand. Your breath made him sigh in relief. He felt like an animal who works on its instinct. He couldn’t control his actions. Especially when he saw that man who had you grinding your hips against him followed you.
Taehyung wasn’t prepared to see you leave with another man that night. Not after you had his cock jump at the sight of your cleavage. He worked on autopilot mode. Wasn’t seeing clear when he practically sprinted after you. Bumped on the strange man who was halfway there. Only slightly caught you disappearing through the bathroom door. Taehyung didn’t give a fuck about the sign that said it was for women. Nor did he care about the shrieks he heard from the few punters who stood near the sinks as he pushed open the door. Only thing he saw was you. Only person who existed there were you. Gaping at him with your wide eyes when he grabbed your arm and turned you around.
“Taehyung!”
“You can’t do that, Vixen. That’s so fucking cruel.”
Thats all he said to you before he crashed his lips against yours. His lips lingered for a brief second before moving against yours—desperate and rough. Felt relieved, though. Instant relief. Turned you around and pressed you against the bathroom door. You took a minute. Taehyung liked to think you were surprised. Then you gave in willingly. It was the best feeling in the world when you parted your lips without any reluctance when he brushed his tongue against your lips. Seeking permission. You tasted better than anything in the world. You smelled better than anything. You were so soft against his hard body. And you lapped against his tongue like you were gone mad. Sharing one breath and creating a mess of spit. His cock was throbbing bad. He wanted you more than he needed to breathe at that time. You pulled away first. Gasped for air.
“Do y-you realize that w-we have an audience?”
“Don’t care.”
He fell back into your lips hungrily. He was pretty sure you would’ve let him have you right there if it wasn’t for some punter saying that they minded. You were forced to withdraw. Taehyung wasn’t having it though. He needed you.
“Please Vixen.”
……………………………
Five years ago
Taehyung’s desperate plea had affected you far more than he realized. He had turned you on so hard, apparently. Had unleashed a monster. And how he loved that. You were so needy, and impatient. Pretty. Hot. Gorgeous. The most amazing thing he had ever seen.
You and he had stumbled yourself out the club. Not wanting to stop sucking each other’s lips. It was your idea to go back to your place. And he were just trying to do that, but you were so impatient. Had thrown yourself on him ever since he started driving. He’d had one drink but couldn’t bring himself to care. Wanted nothing more than to go to a place where he can savor and devour you all the much he wanted. He wanted to do it faster, but you were a distraction. You had started it by kissing his neck. Trailing your tongue on his sensitive spot. Then you had escalated it by finally touching his hardened length through his pants. Squeezed and rubbed.
You teased the life out of him. Had played with your cunt, all the while he struggled to keep concentrating on the road ahead. How impossible that was when you bunched up your dress around your waist. Spread your legs and started to rub your cute cunt over your lacy panties. Taehyung was sure he’s going to crash. Then you pushed the fabric to the side. Moaned needily as you pushed a finger inside you. What a show you put for him. You pumped and pumped and pumped. Dripping on to the leather seat of his car.
“Holy fuck, baby. Jesus.”
“Need you Tae. Oh, fuck I can’t... Need more...  Can I jerk you? No... no, can I suck you off?”
“Fuck, I’m gonna crash lady.”
“No, you won’t.  C’mon you can. You’re a tough guy aren’t you. You can handle a little teasing.”
“Oh, fuck… you are a vixen. You gonna kill us both.”
You slipped your drenched finger out of your cunt. All he could think was how delicious you would taste. He had opened his mouth before he could think about it. Before you could wipe your finger on your thigh. You took the hint. Pushed your finger inside his mouth gratefully. It was embarrassing but he nearly cried. You did too. Didn’t wait a second longer before you were fumbling with his belt. Taehyung’s hips bucked upward involuntarily. His cock twitching as you freed him from the tight confines of his pants.
From there it was a hazy blur. You ruined him. From the very moment your warm lips wrapped around his flushed tip. You were a fucking vixen through and through. Such a tease. Knew exactly what you were doing when you gagged and chocked yourself on his cock. Slurping and drooling. Sucking the life out of him. Keeping him lost in your warmth till his cock throbbed nearing the release and you had stopped. Taehyung complained. Not for real though. He loved every minute of it. And by the time he parked in front of your apartment building, Taehyung was surprised how he even managed that. He took a moment to collect himself as you were still going on it. He was in ecstasy. Immense pleasure. Yet if you had thought he had given you full control, you were so wrong.
He bunched up your hair in his fist. Bucking his hips upward. Pressed you down. Kept you there before let go. You slipped his length out of your mouth. Gasping and panting.
“Cum, sailor. Want to taste you.”
He used your hair to straighten you up. Looked at your ruined face. Fucking ethereal.
“Yeah, you want that? Too bad, princess. I want to ruin that tight little hole first, fill you up, and make you beg for more. Tell me you'll let me.”
Couldn’t help but kiss your wet lips. You nodded into that kiss.
………………………………..
Five years ago
It was the best sex Taehyung had ever experienced. From the very moment you managed to enter your apartment in one piece to where he had you beneath him, his cock stretching your cute cunt open, it all felt like a dream to him. You pulsed around him violently. Frantically. He made you cum twice before having you warming his cock. Both times on his tongue. Sucked and lapped on your cute clit for so long. Overstimulated you to a point you actually cried.
Funny part was that it wasn’t about showing you who was in control or taking sweet revenge for the torture you put him during the drive. No, it was entirely his feral desire. The desire to keep lapping against your sweet slick. He was starved. To keep his head buried between your thighs and get drunk on your smell. He was high. He felt inhuman, insatiable. He could’ve gone for days like that. Fingers knuckles buried inside your cunt and massaging that sweet spot. Tongue circling around your twitching clit. Drinking your sweet essence. Unfortunately, though, he had to stop before you became too tired to pleasure his aching cock.
He held on to a loose thread of sanity as he watched you squirming beneath him. Eyes teary and mouth agape. He wanted to move but felt greedy to do so at the same time.
“Shit, I don’t want to start.”
“Y-yeah? Fuck… W-why is th-that?”
You giggled beautifully. Breathlessly.
“Starting it means, ending it sometime princess. Don’t want to stop.”
He pressed himself more into you. Relished the feeling of your warm walls clenching and unclenching around him. Your warmth. Having you stretched so wide and the sensation of your tightness struggling to adjust to him. Your arousals soaking his length. It was a dream to have you. To fuck you. Raw. He didn’t want that to end.
You had gone still at his words, however. Watched him with an unexplainable yet sorrowful expression. And he knew what was coming. He didn’t want you to voice that out. You did.
“I hope you know what you’re doing Kim Taehyung.”
Shit. He wanted to silence you. So, he dragged his aching cock back just to slam inside you. It didn’t have the desired effect. You moaned loudly and arched your back. Yet before he could repeat his movements, you spoke.
“I hope you realize that you’re cheating Kim Taehyung.”
It should’ve turned him down the moment those words left your sweet, seductive lips. But how fucked up he was that it didn’t make any difference at all. His hunger for you still roared inside him without a hitch. He gave you another harsh thrust.
“I hope you know; you’re an engaged man and you have a fucking fia─”
“Holy fuck, shut up you little minx. Shut up! Just use that mouth to moan my name, go on.”
He stilled himself inside you. Ground a bit. And opted into an animalistic pace straight away. And you did what you’ve been asked for. Moaned his name so sweet that his head spun. Yet there was a single thread of sanity left on you.
“Tell me you know Taehyung. Don’t go fucking blame me after this.”
“I know. All right. I fucking know. Damn know.”
He leaned forward. Kissed you hard. Withdrew only to grab the underside of your thighs. And to push your legs toward your torse. Bent you in half. Fucked you the hardest he could.
“It doesn’t matter vixen, you know. It’s only happening this one time. It’s fine.”
Told to himself more than to you. You had looked at him with void eyes. No emotion. Or not. Taehyung thought you were hurt. But you nodded. Understood. And he threw the care away. You did too. It was all pleasure. Each drag of his cock inside your warm walls. Each hit against your sweet spot. Each clench you made. It all was perfect. Perfect in the way how he wanted more even when he was already buried deep inside you. He wanted more of you. Wanted to make that last long. Especially since it was supposed to happen one time. Taehyung wanted to make you lose your mind. And he did.
Made you hold your own thighs so he can go deeper and harder. Played with your cute clit. All it took was few flicks and you were cuming undone crazily. Had put your legs over his shoulders. Kissed you hard when you came again. Had you on your knees. Yet in the end, he wanted even more. Even when you were so spent. When you lost the ability to stay up on your knees long ago. Taehyung would say it was the only reason why he fell to the bed laying on his side. Got you in the same position. Pulled you to him till your back was pressed against his chest. His hand under your neck. Curled it so you would be even closer. Held your leg up while he entered your warmth again.
Fuck, that was no ordinary way to fuck a one-night stand. He spoon fucked you, while he held you so passionately. Kissing your neck and coaxing you. Praising you for being such good dirty slut for him.
“Like that pretty slut. God, take it. Doing so fine baby. I’m so close. So close.”
“Taehyung… I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. You will. Take me baby please. Want to cum deep inside you. Tell me you want that, hm? Tell me you want my cum deep inside your slutty cunt. You gonna keep them inside, don’t you?”
“Taehyung please…”
Weren’t it the sweetest sound when you moaned his name. And when you add a nice beg in the end.
“I got you baby. Let go one more time for me? I know you got more. You can cum more for me slut.”
“Oh, fuck…”
“Yeah? Shit, feel so good princess. You feel fucking good. Don’t want to fucking stop.”
Taehyung had his face buried in your neck the whole time. Your scent was intoxicating. Addictive. You felt like home. Even though it didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know you. Not even your name.
“What’s your name?”
He never stopped railing your cunt as he blurted the question out. You giggled breathlessly. Taehyung felt you shake against him.
“Seriously, Kim? You- fuck- you’re fucking me to the next week, but you don’t know my name?”
“You never told me.”
“Why would you want to know my name?”
“So, I can moan it.”
You told him your name. And Taehyung stuck to his words. Moaned it over and over again. Even moaned it when you were the one who was cuming again. Squeezing around his twitching cock hard. Desperate to milk him. Crying his name. Taehyung held you close because he wanted to. You were so good. And the way you gripped him was the final straw for him.
It was pathetic how he whined. Almost cried when he came. It was otherworldly. The feeling. But it was all over the moment he lost it. The moment his hips stuttered, and he couldn’t edge himself anymore. Rope after rope of white cum had shot into the confine of your womb. Satisfactory. He felt whole for a minute before reality had hit him. Bad. It was bad. Even then, he hadn’t rushed away from you. No. He had waited till he couldn’t anymore. Had cleaned you up despite your half- hearted protests.  
Eventually, when he gathered himself, you were fast asleep. And the thing that had made Taehyung felt most guilty was the way he kissed you softly before he left.
………………………………..
Four years and four months ago
You never saw him. Not even once since your little dirty tryst. You wanted to ask about him from Namjoon, but your ego was larger than the galaxy. No, you couldn’t lower yourself like that. Besides, he had told you it was just a one-time thing. Funny. Normally you left men wanting more. They had always come back. Not Taehyung. You understood though. Just because you felt satisfied to be the bad guy, it doesn’t mean he would too. You had fully expected that was the case. That Taehyung would stick to the good. Would do the right thing. Until that day.
It was storming outside. You were in a critical state. A shadow lingered in the corner of your living room, and screams echoed in your mind. You planned to leave the house for a good drink and a hunt that night. That was when you heard the knock on your door. And the person outside it was someone who you never expected to see again.
How ridiculous it was the way you were grinning from ear to ear like a mad woman when you opened the door. Finding a soaked Taehyung, covered in a black hoodie.
“Well, hello, Mr. Kim Taehyung!”
“Hi, vixen.”
“You’re passing by?”
“One more time. Just one more. I need it, baby, please.”
He startled you with his sudden outburst. You didn’t get to ask anything more. Simply because he was lunging at you. You didn’t get to do anything more than letting out a surprised yelp when he intruded your house. Lips pressed hard against yours. It was too quick how he thrusted his tongue inside your mouth, taking advantage of the surprised gasp.
All you saw was the door closing behind him before he had your back against the wall next to the door. You kissed him back. You did. Just after the few initial seconds of surprise passed away. Slipped your tongue inside his mouth too. Moaned at the sensation you felt only once before. At the addictive taste. He tasted like winter. You used to hate winter. It was dull and gloomy. But when you were kissing Kim Taehyung, you fell in love with the winter. He was the bright side you never saw. Your head started spinning. Above all, the screams inside your head vanished the moment his lips landed on yours. And you knew the shadow was gone too. You were the one who pulled away, first. You could’ve died if you didn’t.
“Wh- what are y- you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Thought it was supposed to be that one time?”
“I know Vixen, I fucking know. Can you please- just… Fuck- let me fuck you one more time. I just need one more time. Can’t get you out of my head.”
Well, you didn’t care at all. You were at peace with the information that you were the bad person. If Taehyung wanted to take part in that, you weren’t going to stop him. Because you were selfish. He had no idea how much you missed him. How hard the past few months were for you. Your invisible friends have started to annoy your ass more and more since the day you woke up to an empty bed after he fucked you to the next life. That- the day he came back- was the only day you felt relieved. You were not going to play the hero who you never were.
So, of course, you said yes. An eager one. That’s all it took for Taehyung. He almost tore your clothes apart. His soaked ones following afterward before he had you straddling his sculptured thighs naked. Sat on your couch, grinding on his bare cock while he lapped against your hardened nipples. You went on it for what felt like hours. Your sticky arousals soaked his hard cock while his saliva made a mess on your tits. He created reddish artwork on your skin. And you clenched around nothing every time.
“Want me to tie you up to your bed, vixen?”
“Fuck..”
“Hm? Answer me slut?”
“Yes…. please.”
“Holy fuck! Gonna make you cum hard baby, don’t worry.”
That was your first bondage. You never allowed any man to tie you up to anything. Not even to tie your hands together with their silk ties. It took more than trust to let someone have you that way. You never felt safe. You always wanted to have your control even when you were too drunk to care. You hate it when you don’t have that control. With Kim Taehyung, however, you didn’t care. You consented to be tied to your bed gratefully. You felt safe. You trusted him more than you trusted yourself.
There was not a single ounce of doubt when he secured the knots around your wrists. There was not a drop of fear when he ate your cunt like you were a full course meal. Not even when you knew he’s going to overstimulate you. He would make you cum until your thighs shake. And you had no safe word. Yet you trusted him. So much. You felt nothing but blissful pleasure when he finally had enough of your taste. His hardened length visibly jumping. You didn’t hesitate to tell him where you had your vibrator when he asked for it. Knew you were up to a good time. So, you were.
Your back throat was raw from all the moaning when he finally thrusted inside you. You had missed the stretch so badly. He had the damn vibrator pressed against your already sensitive clit when he started pounding you on to the mattress.
“You feel good princess?”
“So- fuck- s- so good Tae... Oh, baby... shit...”
“Ahh, shit, such a tight cunt. Just like I remembered. Nobody fucked you after me?”
You only managed to shake your head. It was the truth. Not that you didn’t want. You wanted it badly. But nobody felt the same. So, you gave up on the kissing stage.
“Really? Really princess? Y-you didn’t? Fuck…. You gonna kill me. Holy fuck!”
And he was going to kill you too. It scared you how you didn’t know a way to handle that much pleasure. You wanted to touch him. Badly. Your hands itched. Restrains dug scarlet marks into your wrists at how hard you moved your hands against them. It was pure instinct that made you want to claw at his back. You couldn’t. That was torture.
“Wanna- wanna….”
“Yeah baby? What do you want?”
“Wanna touch you… Tae please.”
“No… No princess. Just take it. Hm take it. Take my cock like a good slut.”
It’s not like you had any other options to be fair. You had to take it. And you did graciously. Lost the count of how many times you fell over the edge. Convulsing around him. Somewhere between your fourth orgasm and his first, you lost your senses. Just cried for him to untie you because you wanted to touch. At last, he relented. Untied you. You jumped at the opportunity. Pulled him so close to you. Didn’t even mind his weight crushing you. It was just like the first time. You didn’t want to end.
“Go again, please, Tae. Again, I want more. Keep filling me up.”
“Fuck, sure you can take it?”
“Positive.”
So, he did. Without the vibrator and restraints. And it wasn’t a fuck. It was love making. He stared into your soul through your eyes when he gently rocked you into your mattress. Held you close to him the best way he could.
“Let’s cum together baby. Cum with me.”
You didn’t know what the best was. Cuming hard when he violently pounded you or when he slowly built the tension and made you let go together with him. Both felt ecstatic. So much your heart broke when it was over. When he cleaned you up and plopped next to you. It was all over again. And you thought you would wake up to an empty bed next day.
………………………….
Four years and four months ago
You didn’t wake up to an empty bed. For once, the emptiness was replaced by something tender, something real. When you woke up and tried to adjust your tired eyes to the bright light, your eyes had landed on a snuggled figure next to you. Then you had felt the warmth of that figure. Your bed wasn’t cold. And you felt how tight his arm was wrapped around your waist. It was wholesome. It was heartbreaking. He hadn’t left. He didn’t know how much it meant to you. You had watched his peaceful face that morning. Like a creep. The way he breathed. Way his lips were pouty. You didn’t dare to move a finger. Felt like a dream that was too good to be true. A single wrong move could make it all vanish.
It didn’t. He woke up sometime after you. And to your relief he knew where he was. Had mumbled a groggy ‘morning’. Your heart was doing the tango. Wanted to kiss him hard. You didn’t, though. You just stared at his face. He did the same until he finally felt bored of it and opted to play with your hair. It was peaceful. Peaceful in a way that made you do something you thought impossible.  
“You know, when I was a kid, monsters lived under my bed.”
You never meant to tell him that. No. It slipped your mouth before you could stop. Nobody knew. Not even Namjoon. Your aunt knew, just because you ran to her when the first monster crept out under your bed. She didn’t give a fuck. You had to deal with your monsters on your own. You were a little kid. But what else you could’ve expected when she was the one who created those monsters.
You kept them as a secret. Were afraid of people treating you differently. Were afraid of Namjoon treating you differently. Had thought he would not want to be your friend anymore had he known. You always thought, if there was a someone who would eventually know, that someone would be Kim Namjoon. Your best friend since you were little kids. The boy next door. He was all you had. His house was the place you ran to when your aunt was too drunk, making your life hell. He was your only relief.
Then he betrayed you. He found a girlfriend when you were fifteen. You were jealous. Scared. But that wasn’t what broke you. What broke you was when he came to you to let you know that he’s flying abroad. And he did. You were left alone. Partially you hated Namjoon for that. You always waited, though. Thought the monsters would go away when he came back. Because that’s how it was before he left.
Funny, how it wasn’t he who made your monsters go away in the end. True, he brought the light you were craving. Only not in the shape of him. Still, you didn’t mean to tell it to Taehyung. At that moment you were so sure you made him run away from you. You were beyond surprised when he just stared at you. Affectionately. Brought his hand on your hair to cradle your cheek.
“You did.”
You had remained still. At the verge of tears. He was supposed to run away. Yet you nod anyway.
“My-uh- aunt, she… um used to… I mean she didn’t really treat me well. And this one day she came home all bloody. I don’t know what happened but- uh- I was so scared of her. She- fuck… well, she kinda took her anger out on me and ever since that day, monsters lived under my bed.”
You sniffled. Tried hard not to cry when Taehyung changed his position. Dropped his hand to your waist again. Just to pull you closer to his still naked body. Hugged you so close. Inhaled shakily yet, he didn’t run away.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry that happened. I wish I could have been there to protect you.”
“It’s not your fault. Why would you be sorry for something that you have no control of?”
“Do they return often?”
You didn’t know how he knew. Were you that visible? You wanted to tell a white lie. That you were fine. Something made you tell the truth, however.
“They do but I’m not afraid anymore.”
“Call me when it happens the next time.”
“Why? Told you I’m not afraid, sailor.”
You failed to hold your tears. Especially, when he hovered over you. Kissed your lips.
“I know. Just call me.”
He made a severe mistake that time. You and he made a severe mistake.  You agreed in the end. Just before his soft kiss started to deepen. Before his lips started to trail down your jaw and neck. Before they ended up on your already hardened nipples. Nobody questioned how it shouldn’t have happened again.
……………………………..
Five years and three months ago
You didn’t call him until a month passed. Taehyung considered visiting you unannounced again but felt like a scumbag for even thinking about it. You were not a sex toy for him to use. And he still had a fiancée. Who was innocently unaware of his infidelity. He wanted to have better control over himself. Not to commit the same sin again. Convincing himself he was only meeting you to help made it seem acceptable, though it wasn’t just an excuse—he genuinely wanted to help. Not that he knew a reason. He just did.
Because he finally knew what made you, you. Knew it was your aunt that made you broke apart in a Samgyeopsal restaurant. Knew how it happened. How the said aunt clipped your wings. He wanted to help. Felt an urge to protect you. Be next to you each and every minute so, no monster, no human would be able to harm you.
So, when he received a call from an unknown number. When he heard a sob from the other side when he answered. Taehyung had gone into a frenzy. There was only one thing on his mind. That you needed help. You needed him. You had only muttered one word.
“Taehyung…”
His heart sank at that. Shattered. Brain started to ring alarms. There would be no other way to explain that feeling than fear. He thought you were dying. You weren’t. When he finally reached you, he found you curled up next to your couch. Screaming with your hands covering your ears. Tears streaming down. One word chanted through your dry lips. Desperate.
“No. No. No. No.”
Taehyung didn’t know what he should do. So, he did what he thought would be helpful. He hugged you tightly. Told you he was there. And kissed you passionately. Tasted your tears on your lips. It felt like hours passed until you finally calmed down. But when you did. When your cries fade into little whimpers, he finally felt like he could breathe.
…………………………..
Five years and three months ago
You never wanted to be a burden. Yet somehow you became one. Taehyung said that’s not who you are. But you knew you were. You started to rely on him completely ever since that day. From the very moment he stepped inside your apartment while you were crying for a little relief. When it was over, you knew you had to let him go. You couldn’t though.
“C-Could you, um… stay a little longer?”
“Course, I can.”
You sighed in relief. Snuggled against his chest. You sat on the floor next to the couch. Both of you. As long as he was there, the bloody woman won’t return. You knew it. You were staring to calm down. Collecting the shredded pieces of you. Still very shaken from your earlier outburst. You never learnt a way to cope with it afterwards. At least not until Kim Taehyung happened.
“Want to forget it ever happened vixen?”
“I would like to.”
He said nothing when he got to his feet. Said nothing when he fished for his phone. You watched him with a curious gaze until the sound of music filled the silent air of your apartment. Reggae- rock. It was, ‘can’t remember to forget you’. You rolled your eyes to the back of your skull. Shook your head so fast that it made you dizzy.
“Oh my god, no, Taehyung.”
“C’mon, it’s fun.”
You protested the best you could. Yet ended up swirling under his arms after he pulled you into your shaky legs. You were reluctant as hell at first. It was amazing how he eased you slowly. How he made you swirl and sway your hips. You didn’t even realize you were actually dancing in your living room with a man you had no business being with. Didn’t know you were grinning like a fool. In your baggy hoodie and leggings. He didn’t have to make you dance anymore. You did it by yourself. Pressed you back to his. Wiggled your shoulders in sync with him. Sung the lyrics through top of your lungs.
I rob and I kill to keep him with me
I do anything for that boy.
I’d give my last dime to hold him tonight
I do anything for that boy.
Only you didn’t know that was the truth. That in the long run, you would really do anything for him. And that won’t be enough.
In that moment, it was the life. It was one of the happiest memories in your distraught life. You saw the universe in his eyes that day when he finally turned around and turned you to face him as well. He was happy. You were happy. In a little bubble you created.
“Gosh, sailor, you’re crazy.”
“Yes, I am.”
He mumbled before softly kissing you.
……………………………….
Three years and six months ago
You called him rarely first. Then more often. Then every day. First, it was when the voices and visions got unbearable. Then it was for no reason. And he was more than happy to visit. After few months, you didn’t have to call him anymore. He came every day. He danced with you every day. He fucked you every day. The thing was, though, you both knew it was temporary. You thought you were just fine. You did it because you were the bad guy. That thought shielded you against the guilt. So, you kept thinking that. Until, of course, you couldn’t anymore.
That day when he rocked you onto your bed while staring at you with those sparkly eyes, you knew something had changed. Not in him. But in you. You weren’t doing it to be the bad guy anymore. You weren’t doing it to feel like you have control anymore. No. You were genuinely enjoying every moment with him. You loved them. You loved the way he looked at you. Loved the way he talked to you. Loved how he smiled at you. Loved how he laughed. Walked. Ate. Slept. Loved his smell. Loved his presence. Simply, you loved him.
You inhaled a shaky breath. There was no denying anymore. You loved Kim Taehyung. In a crazy way. Just like on your second day together, you hadn’t meant to voice your thoughts. But once again, the words slipped out before you could stop them.
“I love you.”
He had still immediately inside you.
“What?”
“I love you, sailor.”
…………………………….
Three years and six months ago
Taehyung had panicked too much. Too hard. He never expected to hear that. You surely didn’t love him. It couldn’t be true. It was such an unexpected confession. He stumbled away from your bed. Had denied what you said. Shook his head. Got dressed in record time. Had stormed away from your apartment while you looked at him with wide innocent eyes.
He didn’t even give you time to explain. Didn’t give you the explanation you deserve. Vanished from your gaze. You called him several times. He ignored you. Just because he was so scared. You couldn’t love him. You knew he was engaged. Above all, he couldn’t accept your feelings. You were worlds apart. He had every intention to keep ignoring you. To hide away from the world. And you stopped calling him too. He knew you had a huge ego, that you wouldn’t even look at his face again.
He thought that would be the case. But how hard that day was for him. He was a huge mess through and through. His heart was aching like someone was squeezing it in their hand. He felt like he was physically bleeding. Yet he could’ve made the day if it wasn’t for the call he received from you at midnight. He never ignored your late-night calls except that day. He didn’t answer. Waited few minutes lying in his bed, imagining how it might be for you. He knew you hadn’t called to say anything else. He knew so much about you by then, that he knew you called him because you were scared. Knew the visions might be back. Knew you might be hearing the sounds.
And that was when he realized how much he cared. He cared always, yes, but that’s when he realized that. He cared too much. Too hard. He couldn’t stay away from you. Couldn’t ignore your calls for help. You were too precious. Even though he didn’t know you had been his everything lately.
Taehyung practically jumped from the bed. Ignored his startled fiancée. Broke every speed limit as he raced to your place. Just to find you nowhere.  Nowhere in your apartment. That was the first time he had felt hollow. A strange sensation shot through his spine. His heart was beating in his ears as he stood still in your living room. Trying to clear his head and think straight. That’s when he had heard the sobs. Muffled. You were inside. Somewhere there. He followed the sound. Slowly and quietly until he found you finally. The sounds came through your closet. Taehyung didn’t think it was possible to feel more heart broken. He did somehow, when he sprang open the closet door. Gaze falling on to the figure in a fetal position. You had looked up at him with your red and puffy eyes. Your panicked expression morphed into an angry one in a blink.
“Why are you here? What the fuck are you doing here Kim? Why are you here? Get out. Leave. I don’t want you here!”
He didn’t listen to you obviously. Crouched down before you. Touched you when you started to thrash. Throwed a tantrum.
“No. No for fucks sake vixen, I’m not leaving you like this. I’m so sorry baby.”
“You did once. You can do it again. Fucking go away Kim.”
“I’m sorry princess. No, stop─”
You were stronger than a lioness that day. He had a great struggle holding you still, pulling you into his body. You tried your best though.
“I don’t want your fucking pity, Taehyung, I don’t want it.”
“I’m not giving you my fucking pity! I’m fucking giving you, my love”
He yelled. You stopped wriggling like a worm at once. Everything went still for a minute before you broke apart. Crying hard into his chest. He cried too. But at the same time, he made sure to tell you he loved you like it was a mantra to calm you down.
“I fucking love you too Vixen. I love you.”
…………………………………………
A year ago
From the moment Taehyung confessed his love for you, your life turned completely around. It wasn’t the sour and dull life anymore. It was bright as summer and comfortable as winter. Sure, there were heart breaks and days you cried. Like how your heart broke when Namjoon confessed to you in a fancy restaurant. You had blinked at his face stupidly. You couldn’t believe it. That Namjoon liked you. You had a fat crush on him until the day he left to states. You thought you harbored the same feelings when he came back too. But somewhere on the line things had changed. Even though Namjoon was very special to you, you had to break his heart. You were in love with Namjoon’s friend. For years. Namjoon understood your rejection, but he shut himself out from your life.
It hurt you. But you knew he was hurt too. There were other incidents too. Sometimes you fought with Taehyung. You cried a little. He brought you cupcakes instead of beer after those fights. Brought you Orchids. Despite everything you were living your best life. Things changed for good too. Like how you loved winter. Because he tasted like winter. Because he took you to that winter carnival. Only you two. You giggled like a teenager. Enjoyed everything like a toddler. He showed you the things you missed. Healed the little girl inside you. Taught you it was okay to love someone unconditionally. To be loved unconditionally.
He made you watch cliché movies and read you books. You learnt how beautiful it was to dance in the rain. You looked forward to his silly dates. You missed him when he was gone. But with everything, you both knew in the very end of the silver line there was a looming darkness. You ignored it the best you could though.
“Do you think she meant this?”
Taehyung played with your hair- a habit he developed- as you lazily laid there after he fucked your brains out. It was noon. Harsh sunlight was creating glowing patterns on his face. You looked at him wearily.
“Who?”
“That fortune teller. She told our fates were tied together.”
“Really sailor, you still believe those shits?”
“You don’t?”
There was such tender look in his eyes. How you loved him. You turned to your side to face him, thinking his question through.
“Well, I don’t want it to be real, so, I don’t believe.”
“Why?”
“Because she said we had unresolved issues Taehyung, that’s bad. And…. She said that cycles repeat. She said something about pains lingering. If it was true, then that part comes true as well. If it was true, then something bad happened to us in that past life Taehyung. I don’t want that again. Don’t want you gone.”
Taehyung had frozen for a minute. Had looked at you with his eyes pouring out his heart. Had kissed you deeply. Held you close.
“It won’t. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
You trusted him that day. But you forgot that your life isn’t supposed to be that good.
………………………
Six months ago
It was storming just as it had been the day Taehyung suddenly popped up in front of your apartment door, after months of your first day. And he had knocked on your door similar to how he had done then Instead of simply walking inside as he used to. You were so surprised to find him there soaked to the bones. Ironically wearing a similar black hoodie. And you, stupid you, had grinned uncontrollably to see him there. Only until you realized he wasn’t smiling back. Until you noticed that his eyes were puffy and red. Undoubtedly from crying. Even the tip of his nose was red. He hadn’t spoken a word. Not a single word before you understood it for yourself. He had this look on his face. Somber. Distraught. Guilty. Hesitating. It all screamed one thing. That loomed darkness was there.
You knew. Before he could tell it, you knew. And you jumped into action before anything else can happen. You desperately had believed it won’t happen if you stop it before he says anything.
“No. No. Taehyung. I- fuck- I don’t want to hear it. Turn around please. Leave.”
What you wanted didn’t happen. He spoke. Instead of listening to you he spoke.
“She knows.”
“So what? I don’t care Taehyung. Turn around. This isn’t happening. You’re not- you’re not- not─”
Your words had muffled by a sob that erupted from your throat. You didn’t want to cry. It meant, it was happening. No, it wasn’t.
“Look, I- (__), I’m s-so fucking so-rry baby─”
“No, you’re not, you’re not sorry Taehyung. If you’re really sorry, don’t do this to me. Don’t─”
“She doesn’t deserve that. I wasted her whole life. I can’t do that to her.”
She doesn’t deserve that. So, you did?
He wasted her whole life. So, he didn’t waste yours?
He can’t do that to her. But he can do that to you?
You took a step back. The tears were out of your control now. That wasn’t how it meant to happen. It was meant to be a happy ending. You did your best. You did everything you could. You never asked him to make a decision. You always soothed your heart saying, he would do it at the right time. You always understood his situation. You made peace with being a secret, and not being able to tell anyone who your boyfriend was. You did everything. In the end, it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough.
Despite all your efforts there stood Kim Taehyung. The man you loved dearly. Loved crazily. Blindly that you didn’t even see that you wouldn’t be the one he chose. He stood there while tears rolled down his cheeks as well. But in the end, he was leaving you. For her. 
You carry the weight of a past undone. Shadows of a life lived before. A tragedy. You’ve crossed paths now to mend what was broken... or to fail once more. Beware. Cycles repeat, and pain lingers. Choose wisely this time.
Pain lingers. It sure hell did.
You were starting to lose the ability to breathe. You dug your nails to your fists. You wanted to stay calm. Talk it through. Yet the pain made it come out all wrong.
“So what? You gonna walk away like that? Do you realize, how much of prick you are?”
“No, don’t do that.”
“Do what Kim? You cheated on her for years and only now you realize─”
“Shut the fuck up (__).”
“Oh, I will. I will shut up. I will be the one to shut up and bare it when you’re tossing me aside after using my body for years.”
“That’s not what fucking happened.”
“Then what the fuck does happened?”
“I didn’t fucking use you. You knew what you were getting yourself into. Don’t blame me like a hypocrite (___). Don’t fucking do that.”
“I didn’t know Taehyung. I fucking believed in the lie you told me.”
“Well, then why did you fucking let me lie. Maybe you should’ve thought better before slutting yourself for me. I should never have visited the carnival that day.”
That had hit hard. Like a slap. Shut your mouth. Only pain remained in the suddenly silenced air as you looked at him with pathetic eyes. It took him a minute. Then he nearly lunged forward, shaking his head violently. You recoiled instantly.
“No, fuck I don’t mean that vixen. Fuck, I’m sorry. Hey, baby─”
“It doesn’t matter Taehyung. Guess what? You’re so right. It’s my fault. Should’ve known better. I’m a slut and I would put that into good use.”
“No, vixen wait.”
“Bye Kim. Live your fucking life.”
You closed the door in his face.
……………………………..
Now
“There’s no hope anymore, is there Tae? You were long gone when I found out?”
Taehyung just blankly stares at her face. Sighs. Drops his head into his hand. Ever since he left your apartment, it hasn’t been the same. With him. With her. Taehyung has forgotten to smile. He has drowned himself in alcohol. Nothing helps though. He wants you. He needs you. Like how he needs air. He misses you. Your warm smile. Your voice. Your scent. Oh, he loves you crazily. Blindly. He now realizes that he can’t do this.
He wanted to do the right thing. Right by her. Because he thought that’s how he would find peace. This isn’t peace, however. He’s living in a burning hell. Each passing second without you feels like an eternity in a pit of fire. He loves you. He can’t do it. So, he shakes his head. Biting back the tears.
“I- uh I─”
“Save it Tae.”
The despair in her voice is visible. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. To add more to his misery, he feels a sensation that is unexplainable but enough to make the hair in the back of his neck stand. To give him chills. He doesn’t like this. It’s uneasy. Scary. He feels helpless.
“You’re such a fool Tae. A coward.”
She adds at his silence. Taehyung snaps his head toward her. A bit offended at the words yet says nothing. So, she continues.
“You cheated on me for years. Years Taehyung. That’s not a simple mistake. That’s- that’s…. You love her. Even though you told me it was just physical needs, you love her Tae. You barely talk to me anymore. You don’t eat, sleep. You barely leave the house. You, Kim Taehyung, are not the man I once fell in love with. You were long gone when I found out. But do you know what makes my heart break the most? It’s that after everything, you were a coward who couldn’t even make the right decision.”
She steps forward.
“You weren’t brave enough to fight for what matters the most. You broke my heart, and then her heart and in the end, you decided to hide away? Gosh, how much of a pathetic coward you can be?”
“Wh-what do you mean? I- I did the right thing.”
He finds his voice lastly. Is too shaken by her sudden accusation. She hasn’t talked to him this straight or rude even the day she found out.
“Did you? No, you didn’t Tae. What you did was choose the easy path. I am that easy path Tae. She- she is the hard path. All the judgments, and facing Namjoon, all of your friends, our friends, our families. And not to mention that she isn’t exactly normal, is she?”
“She. Is. Normal.”
Even Taehyung can’t comprehend the way he’s shifted from a mourning widow to a protective wolf in one minute. He is glaring at her now. She doesn’t even wince, however. Gives him a soft smile instead.
“There you go. You should’ve done that way earlier. Fight for what you want Tae. Not everything comes easy in this world. You’re an asshole. But guess what? People always make shitty mistakes. This doesn’t justify what you did, but I don’t think you and I ever will be the same again. We’ve been engaged for forever now. You’ll never marry me. Even if you did, that would be a great mistake we both make. You’ve become part of her.”
Taehyung blinks at her face. His throat is constricting. Eyes burning. He wants to say something. But what can he say when every word she utters is true. He was a coward. He let you go, and now he gets this feeling that everything is about to end. He gets a bad feeling.
“I don’t know. I- um… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Do you love her?”
Taehyung sighs heavily. Nods. What good it’ll do by lying anymore.
“Y- yeah. Ye-yes. Fuck… yes, I do. I- fuck I’m sorry but I do. I love her. And- and holy shit I feel like it’s too late. I feel like somethings wrong, and it drives me fucking crazy.”
Taehyung rubs his face in frustration. He’s going to explode. Something’s wrong. He can’t breathe.
“Well, I’m not going to be the bigger person here and ask you to run to her Tae. And I won’t say that I’ll forgive you either. But…. My grandma used to say that you shouldn’t ignore it when you get a bad feeling about something.”
With that she turns around and leaves. Taehyung watches her for minute. A long one. His brain struggles to process what just happened. Until it suddenly kicks him. He shouldn’t ignore the bad feeling. It’s still not the way how he should do it. She deserves a better explanation. An apology. A sincere one. She deserves to know the truth. But he needs to see you first. He would do it right this time. For real. Right by you. He would just find you first.
…………………………..
Now
You wonder if this is how it was in the past as well. Just as the fraudulent woman told you. She said that it was a tragedy. That you were met to mend what was broken. Or fail. And what happened was the latter. You failed, once again. Funny, how you’re believing it now. You were so adamant of believing it was a scam. Now here you are. Perch on the edge of your rooftop. Thinking about your past fucking life. You let out a shaky laugh that spirals into something maniacal.
Your life is ridiculous. You lived your entire life battling a battle that nobody else can see. Monsters. Voices. Hate. No friends. No love. No light. Then when you met the man who was supposed be tightly connected with your fate, you thought you finally won that battle. Well, it seems you were wrong. You lost it even before it starts. Now, you’re too tired to keep fighting. It’s suffocating. Exhausting. When Taehyung left that day, the voices and visions became unbearable. There’s not a single day you slept peacefully. Night terrors when you were asleep. Shadows and screaming when you were awake. No amount of alcohol or endless nights spent clubbing. No man who you brought home was able to help you.
Sure, Taehyung brought the light to your world. And he took that light away by himself. Like a candle flicked off. Now it’s only darkness and you don’t think you’ll ever see a light again. You never had anything to lose. But now when you sit here staring into the road down, bustling with vehicles and people, you feel like you’ve lost everything. Maybe, somewhere in between before Taehyung and after Taehyung, you lost your hope. Desire to hang into life. It’s not like anyone would ever miss you. Would they?
Would Taehyung miss you?
Did you die first in your past life? Did he miss you then? Did you kill yourself before? Was that because he rob your light? Does it matter anymore?
Oh, you’re tired. So, tired. You need a peaceful moment. Just one is enough. Maybe in your next life, you will have a normal life. Good family. Parents who won’t abandon you. Good friends. A life without monsters. And maybe… just maybe…. You would meet Taehyung again. The man who wasn’t scared of your haunted scarred soul. The man who helped you to fight them. Your anchor. He was the person who held you to your life lately. The man who you still love like he’s your sun and moon. And then he won’t choose anyone else over you. He would stick to his promises, and you’ll love each other until you grow old. There will be no tragedy.
You turn your head slightly to look at the looming presence of the woman next to you. She has an evil smile on her lips. She’s winning after all. You’re giving up.
“Jump!”
……………………………
Now
Taehyung storms inside your apartment. Surprised that you haven’t changed the password. It’s like that day. It’s empty. No sign of you. He steadies himself in the middle of the living room. Staying quiet in hope to hear your muffled sobs. Like how it was the last time. Only, that he can’t hear anything. Only the hum of your fridge and the ticking sound of your wall clock. It’s empty. It’s silent. Eerily silent. Taehyung is visibly shaking. He is covered in sweat. So, he shrugs his jacket off. And that has nothing to do with the fact that he took stairs instead of the elevator. But everything do with the fact that he’s terrified.
Something is wrong.
It’s night. Did you go to a club? Bar? You don’t have many friends. Taehyung knows you and Namjoon fell apart after his confession. You can’t be at someone else’s house then. He had called you thousand times by now. You haven’t responded. Yet he tries one more time. Dialing your number with his hands shaky. Trembling badly. Cursing when it takes him more than necessary time to unlock his damn phone. When he finally does, he puts the phone on speaker and wait. Waits till the call connect and starts ringing. After what feels like hours, it does. And Taehyung can hear a phone ring inside the apartment. It comes from your room. He checked there earlier. You are not there. But your phone is, apparently. You went somewhere without your phone.
You don’t do that. You have so many demons. You don’t feel safe without your phone. You won’t leave it unless you don’t need it anymore.
Why would you not need it?
Where are you?
Where would you go?
Taehyung’s head is spinning. He feels like banging his head against a wall so that he can think straight. He tries his best to rake his brain for any kind of idea. He knows you after all. It can’t be this hard to guess where you would be.
Where?
Where?
Where?
A place you like.
A place you don’t like.
Taehyung slowly raises his head. An idea dawned on him.
The rooftop. You like that place. You and he used to stargaze there. And you hated that place. Said those voices become the most annoying when it’s quiet. Taehyung turns around like in a dream.
That’s where you are. 
The sickening dread intensifies tenfold. He breaks into a run the moment he leaves the apartment.
Whatever you’re doing up there, it’s not good.
Taehyung doesn’t believe he can run this fast. He does somehow. He takes the stairs instead of elevator again. Can’t waste time waiting for the stupid thing. He runs fastest he can. Feeling his pulse thundering. He can’t be late. He has things to tell you. He needs you to know he made the wrong decision. Wants you to know that he loves you. Needs to tell you that he loves you. He wants to tell you that the day he met you at that carnival was the best day of his life. And it was the best decision he ever made.
He feels like he saw heaven when he finally reaches the top. When he can finally see the rickety door to the rooftop. He yanks the door open. Like how he did open a closet door once. His gaze immediately lands on the figure sitting on the edge. Like how it did land on a figure in a fetal position. The figure turns slightly to glance at him. Like how those eyes looked upon him like a deer caught in a trap last time. This time though, instead of getting mad at him, you look away. No emotions in your eyes. Not even a sign that you acknowledged him. You just turn around.
And Taehyung’s heart stops.
“Vixen, NOOOO!!!!”
……………………………….
Now
You stop.
Freeze.
You were just about to jump. About to end the misery. About to have your peace. You knew someone came. Your blurry vision prevents you from seeing them clearly, and their presence makes you rush, hoping to act before they can stop you. But that voice. Wait? Did they call you Vixen?
You turn around slowly again. Blink. Tears roll down your cheeks, clearing your vision. It takes some minutes for your brain to register that he’s here. Kim Taehyung is here. It takes some time for it to make any sense. Takes time until you finally clearly see him. Standing there. Panting, eyes glittery with unshed tears. He’s taking little steps toward you. His hands up in raised in a gesture of surrender. As if to let you know that he is no harm to you. Ridiculous since you always knew he wasn’t.
“S-sailor?”
You ask groggily. What if this is another hallucination of your mind.
“Yes baby- me. It’s me.”
He takes another step toward you. Slow. Puts one of his hands down. Again slow. Only to stretch it forward. Hesitating.
“Why?”
You look at his hand for a moment before looking at his face again. A single tear has rolled down his cheek.
“Wh-what do you mean why?”
“Why are you here?”
“For you.”
“Yeah?”
You keep looking at his face. He takes another step. Now he’s at a length where he can touch you. He doesn’t, however.
“Yes, I am. Baby- c-can you? Uh- please?”
He stretches his arm toward you. Is asking you to take it. Silently.
“What do you want Taehyung? Why you came back, when you just fucking left me. I can’t do this anymore. I- I, I’m fucking tired. I need to end this damn pain.”
You turn your head to look at the woman. She is no longer there. Because Taehyung is here. But that’s temporary. The moment he will go again, she’ll return. And it will happen anytime soon now. Because Taehyung would leave again. Inevitably. He would leave you again.
“I know baby, I know. I know it hurts. B-but… listen to me, will you? Just get down from there so we can talk. Let’s talk. Please. Please baby….”
“There’s nothing to talk about Taehyung. You can’t do this to me. Go where you belong.”
“But this is where I belong. Baby don’t do this. Don’t leave me to suffer again”
He sounds desperate. Helpless. Why though? You’re the one who should be desperate here. And what does he mean again?
“I’m not the one who left. What do you mean again?”
“I- I d-don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost you once. I know it’s crazy, but I can already fucking feel the pain. I feel like I’ve suffered before. Vixen please don’t do it again. Don’t- fuck, just please get down.”
You can see his hand tremble. Can hear his voice shake. He wants to touch you. You know that but he’s afraid. Like you. You wipe the tears from your hoodie sleeve.
“You wanted to go Taehyung. You chose her and─”
“I know. I’m a fucking coward baby. I am. I made a fucking mistake, but do you think I deserve this kind of punishment? To lose you forever? Do you think I’ll survive this, knowing I lost you forever? Please, Vixen, I’m begging you. Just one chance, that’s all I ask for.”
You simply look at him. He tilts his head back for a moment, trying to steady himself. He’s a mess. You’re a mess. He’s crying hard. It breaks your heart. You hate seeing him cry. Can you trust him, though? What if he leaves again? What if the woman returns again? But then what if he cries this way for the rest of his life when you’re gone? Despite everything, he is here, isn’t he.
“We can try again. In the correct way this time. I’ll be there for you; in every step you take. I’ll help you; you’ll help me. We can try again vixen. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“I don’t know sailor. I’m tired. I want them to be gone forever. Monsters, sounds. I- what if you leave me again?”
“I- God, please trust me this once baby. I won’t. I love you. God, I love you so fucking much it hurts. We’ll make them go away forever. We can do it. I got you. We can light it up baby. Trust me please. Just once, all I need is one more chance.”
That’s all you need as well. One more chance. You take a moment. You don’t know if this is going to work. All you can do is trust him. He broke it once. Maybe you won’t trust him fully now. But what if he works for it. Really hard. Maybe you’ll learn to trust him again. He said he’d help you. You’ll heal. He promised he’d do it right this time. After all, you don’t want to see him cry.  You love him. Still. Blindly. Crazily. Sue you for that but you do. Maybe you have a chance, and you shouldn’t wase that.
No, you shouldn’t waste your chance.
You should choose wisely this time.
After another long second, you place your hand in his slowly. He lets out a shaky breath in relief. You get down from the edge with his help. Your legs are too shaky to keep you up right. Yet that’s no problem because you’re in his arms the moment you are down. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. Peppers every inch of you he can find with kisses. Hides his face in your hair. Inhales deeply.
“Thank you. Thank you, Vixen. God, thank you for fucking trusting me. I- God, I promise I’ll make it work. Not gonna let you go again. No. Never. I- I...”
He stutters through his tears. You hide your face in his chest. Let yourself drown in the smell of winter. Get closer as it’s physically possible. Oh, you missed him. What if you’ve never got a chance to be in his arms again? The thought makes you greedy. You clung to him for your life. Still trembling.
There’ll be a long way to go. It will be hard and easy. The road will be smooth and rocky. It will certainly require some work. But in the end, nothing matters. You’re in his hands. Again. And you’ll make sure you are making the right decision from now on. That you won’t let if fail. Won’t let you and Taehyung fail.
“Do you know I love you. Gosh, I thought I’d never get to say that to you again─” Taehyung pulls away to peer at your eyes. Presses a kiss to your lips. Hugs you tight again. “─ I fucking thought you’ll never know. I─”
“I love you sailor.” You interrupts his ramble.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Say it again then.”
“I love you. God, I fucking love you. Let’s say that more often from now on.”
He quietly laughs this time.
“I love you.”
THE BEGINNING.
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floylia · 4 months ago
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# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾
10. Always worth your time 💌
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If arrogance is a cloak, he wears it proudly
A golden smile with silver teeth approaches you. His ginger hair falls smoothly in elegant curls, draping near the white headphones over his neck. His red top contrasts the blue hues of his eyes, followed by an expensive car that pops out in the background.
He wasn’t lying when he said he was made with money.
“Heard you need a ride?” His teasing tone continues.
You grin, “I recall, saying no?”
He shrugs, before grabbing your bag from your shoulder, and walking to the passenger seat, holding the door open for you, “And I recall not responding, so where are we going?”
“Supposedly at my student’s house for a tutoring session, but her mother cancelled.”
He gasps sarcastically, “Then I get to have you all to myself today?”
“By whose words?”
“Mine.”
“It better be worth my time.”
He winks, “I’m always worth your time.”
If spontaneous is a person, you’ve met him.
“You broke the damn machine!” You whisper-yell to the ginger in front of you whose jaw almost reaches the floor as he looks from left to right, checking for prying eyes.
He sighs in disappointment while sliding the palm of his hand on the window of the claw machine, observing how the plush toy drops back to its friends, “I wanted the duck.”
“You can’t have everything in life.”
“Yes I can.”
You shake your head, “It won’t even scan your card. I think that’s a sign that we need to leave. Besides, these games are a scam.”
“99% of gamblers quit before they win,” He scans his arcade card once again. It’s like arguing with a brick wall. Miraculously, the once “broken” machine finally activates.
You raise a brow, “Embarrassing yourself again?”
He rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms before circling his right shoulder back and forth, “Watch.”
His gaze focuses on the yellow duck, carefully aligning the metal claw before squinting and pacing around the machine, looking through each window from every angle.
You pinch the bridge of your nose while trying to stifle a laughter.
Then, he presses the button.
Two pairs of eyes follow the claw machine descend, grabbing the toy. It feels like at any moment the metal grip will slip, but it doesn’t.
Because the duck drops in the prize hole.
Childe falls to his knees before thanking the gods above, whispering sweet nothings in the air repeatedly.
Strangers ranging from kids to teens pass by with knitted brows, deciphering the scene in front of them. It takes you courage not to walk away and pretend you never met the ginger.
Thankfully, he stands up and hands you the duck.
“Didn’t you want this?” You ask.
“I did. I wanted it for you.”
“Oh, I—“
“There’s a photo booth over there. We should take a picture,” He points to the silver booth across the arcade before slipping his fingers between your own and dragging you towards his desired destination.
He continues talking, but every word becomes a void. Your thoughts are frozen. Eyes trained on one thing: his soft hands holding yours as his thumb gently circle your skin while he remains unaware.
“Are you feeling well?” He tilts his head, scanning your face for signs of discomfort.
You don’t even notice you’re inside the booth, “Of course! Let’s start.”
He nods, “Alright, what pose should we do?
You scan the tiny space until you spot a box underneath the bench, “Wait! They have props.”
You snatch a Minnie Mouse headband, adjusting it on your head, while he leisurely grabs the Matching Mickey Mouse version.
“Does it have to be the mouse?”
You chuckle, “Scared to relive the past?”
“Shut up.”
The screen starts counting down as you adjust inside the camera’s frame. Childe follows suit before placing his right arm around your shoulder, featuring a genuine grin.
“We should do a couples pose.”
You elbow his stomach, “You wish.”
Four more pictures were taken until the booth starts printing each one in a row.
“Should we grab lunch?” You ask, realizing the time after opening your phone for the first time since arriving.
“Yeah…” He leads the both of you towards the exit. The photo strips on his hands as he scans them individually.
In the first picture you’re wearing the matching Mickey Mouse headpieces.
In the second frame, he makes a giant heart with his left arm, expecting you to finish it. Instead, you do a thumbs up, grinning at him while he smiles tenderly back.
In the third photo your backs are against one another while making gun poses like Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’re wearing black glasses with a serious expression and he is laughing with messy hair covering one eye.
In the fourth picture, he’s on his knees once again—both hands up in the air as you strangle him on the neck.
In the last picture, he’s wearing a fox hat while you’re wearing a bunny head piece, referencing Jude Hopps and Nick Wilde. His right arm is resting on the top of your head, smirking as you pout, looking up at him.
“Is it that special?”
He hums, eyes still glued on the photos, admiring your beauty, “Very.”
If attraction is a season, now he knows why leaves fall in autumn.
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NOTES:
i’m back lol i hope all of you are doing well 😍
i failed my calc test, my grade went from a 96 to an 88, i’m TWEAKING but it’s okay IM COOKED (the asian in me wasn’t working today bruh) i was born a writer not a mathematician. but i’ll bring it up trust
SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.
When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.
CHILDE x FEM!READER
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If your name is bolded, for some reason I can’t tag you :(
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corphneux707 · 6 months ago
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Little Duckling
[Ratio x Child! Reader, Platonic]
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Summary: Dr. Ratio takes responsibility of you after an experiment goes awry. Which you, a child, gets isekai’d into the work of Honkai Star Rail. Based on my headcanons here.
To add: This fic is COMPLETELY platonic and gender neutral. Readers age is not specified at all and there is no use of Y/N. New found family type of shit. Not proofread lol.
“Seems like you’re gonna be picked up late, bud.” Your teacher says after putting the call down with your parents. She gently takes your small hands and leads you to the classroom, letting you sit down on the giant rug where all the toys are.
You felt a little sad. Your parents are late again. It's been a long day for you and you want to take a rest now! But looking at your teacher, you didn’t mind spending more time with her. 
Noticing your foul mood getting better, she gives you a toy bear to play with in the meantime. “Here you go. I’ll call someone to watch over you while I go get something. Be good, okay?” You giggle as she ruffles your hair before leaving briefly. Now you’re left alone in the big classroom with a stuffed bear.
“Hello, Mr. Bear” Its stubby paws gesture to a small wave as you puppet it with your hands. A small smile escapes your lips as you play with it more. Your imagination becomes much more creative with imagining scenarios with the bear.
Perhaps you’ll take it in a cool adventure! Or.. or.. maybe somewhere scary where you defeat the evil monster!! Or go solve a mystery with Mr. Bear as a sidekick! How about all of it? Yeah!!!! You pat yourself on the back for being a smart detective in thinking about how you’ll (spend your time) go on an adventure!
Your playtime is cut short when an odd gust of wind blows past you. You look behind and a small crack of whatever is in the air. It pulsates with a soft glow, almost like it's beckoning you to come closer. An ominous feeling creeps up onto your spine and you decide that it isn’t a good thing.
The anomaly suddenly breaks apart in a maelstrom of whirring winds sucking anything nearby. From chairs, tables, toys and everything. The classroom trembles and glass starts to crack.
You act on instinct but struggle to stand up, feeling weaker and weaker. The lights flicker constantly, almost in the same erratic rhythm as your beating heart.Your senses start to dull from the sheer intensity of the situation. Tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes and yet only to be sucked in by whatever it is behind you.
“It’s hard to breathe-'' More of your tears are sucked in. Your steps to the door get lighter and lighter, till you’re practically in the air getting sucked towards the portal. And as quickly as you get sucked in, quickly your consciousness fades.
You wake up groggy with a faint ringing in your ear. Soon that ringing turns into indiscernible voices. That’s when you decide to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the blinding lights above you. You blink it all away and focus more properly in the room that you’re in. Clean white room with many digital images on the screen. The occasional beeping of machines filling the void of silence. 
Your lips feel oddly moist. Looking down, an oxygen mask is placed on you, connected to a machine that makes the rhythmic beeps that you hear. You try to try to remove the mask with your hands but that's when you notice a wire inside connected from your hand. Your unease becomes more palpable and your gaze follows the wire connecting to a bag of fluids hung on a rack.
Your breaths start to accelerate. Where the hell were you? Why are you here? What happened? Where are your parents? Where are your siblings? Where is home? Your heart hammers against your ribcage. Sweat trickling down against your forehead, despite the coolness of the room. Irrationality and fear colliding with each other in a dizzying storm.
The machine beside you beeps louder and louder. Incessantly dulling your head to think properly. Your chest starts to tighten and your sobs are unable to escape from your lips because of the bile forming in your throat. Tears well in your eyes- through your blurry vision you reach out for something. Anything.
Your hand is enveloped by something warm. It pulls you in, surrounding you completely in a dull embrace. You shut your eyes to focus on slowing your heart rate, the dullness becoming calming. Still, the intensity of your panic lingers longer. Your hands tremble, yet hold on to the warmth with an iron fist. Scared of letting it go and possibly losing it forever. 
Your senses start to come back and you hear the muffled voice of someone. With the crash of fatigue washing over you, it becomes a lullaby for you. You follow each faint word with a held breath and exhaling slowly. You settle to lean further into the warmth that envelops you, letting you fall asleep with ease.
By the time you wake up again, the warmth is already gone. Instead being poorly replaced by a blanket on you. The blinding lights back again to bite your eyes. You wince and blink rapidly to adjust yourself more. When you try to rub your eyes, your hands are held firmly by someone else.
You squint your eyes to look at them, a shade of purple is something you noticed first. Then a click of a tongue after. “Turn off half of the lights.” A man says and quickly the strain on your eyes is uplifted.
You finally adjust and you see that what was connected to your hand is now gone. But now you can also see him clearly. ‘Huh, so the purple you saw was actually his hair.’ The first thing that came to mind after noticing his hair was to greet the man in front of you. You open your mouth but your throat tightens. No voice comes out of you, so you opt to close your mouth and nod your head instead since your hands are still held back by him.
The man removes his hands from yours carefully, as if anticipating any form of sudden movement from you. You look at him, an odd pair of reddish-pink eyes looking back at you. The reflection of the light highlights the yellow ring around his pupil, consuming you in a hypnotic gaze.
Perhaps because of the peculiarity of his eyes is the reason why you’re so calm at the moment as he backs away to give you ample space to examine you properly. His gaze still unwavering, although with a hint of softness. There's a deliberate sound of calmness in the air as he asks, “Are you feeling well?”
You nod wordlessly in response, not in the mood to speak. He hums in acknowledgement before turning to the other person near the doorway of the room. You see the other person visibly flinch from his gaze and immediately leaves after excusing themself from the room.
Once alone with you, he takes a much more intentional pace in his actions as he takes out an ID from pocket and hands it to you. He points to it then to himself. “I am Doctor. Veritas Ratio. Your current doctor.” He speaks slowly, enunciating each word to make sure you understand properly.
You repeat his name in his head. Veritas Ratio. It's a very unique name that makes your curiosity spark up. He is, afterall, very peculiar. Different hair color, different eyes, different name? How very peculiar indeed!
Your curiosity must've shown when he speaks, “I will entertain your questions in the future. First-” he pauses before giving you a tablet with a blank form needing your information. “Since you can’t speak yet, you will introduce yourself with this”
You take the tablet with sheer astonishment at its sleek, high-tech design. Ratio guides you in the form. “Surely you are adept in inputting?” His question is answered with the furrow of your brows and the tilting of your head as you try to piece together what he meant. 
A small part of Ratio finds endearment from the face of your frustration. He pushes it down to focus on the matter at hand. He leans closer and taps on a blank line on the form, a keyboard appearing on the tablet. Your mood turns from frustration to one of unexpected clarity.
It works like a normal tablet- just looks more techy, you guess. You type your name slowly with your two index fingers. Each press is paired with a beep that amuses you to no end. You signal him that you finished typing by facing the front of the tablet to him with an expectant gaze. Ratio hums, acknowledging you by taking the tablet and reading your name aloud. 
Now it was his turn to look at you expectantly, as if a silent question if he’d pronounced your name correctly. A surge of delight fills you as you nod excitedly with a big smile. Ratio nods at you back. Although his face is stoic, there's a twinge of amusement from him as he watches your eyes twinkle by simply reading your name aloud. 
“Children are truly simple minded.” Ratio concluded audibly. When he notices your head tilted at him, he dismisses you, explaining that it was nothing. He hands you the tablet back and guides you to the rest of the questions in the form. 
Age. “Little one, how old are you?” Ratio asks with a raised brow. You hold up your fingers to show him how old you were. He points to the number you’re supposed to press. Mentally, he notes down the fact that you can count. He just doesn’t know how far. Perhaps he should teach you personally? Who knows what kind of fallacious education any other teacher would provide? Perhaps even… So on and so forth.
You stare at Ratio who is clearly deep in thought. You don’t know why, but currently your empty stomach doesn’t care when it growls loudly. Your face glows red with mortification before turning away from Ratio quickly. Clearly the hospital bed will be your new grave from all this embarrassment.
Your mind changes immediately though after a large hand is gently placed atop of your head. “I’ll be back with some food.” Ratio says before getting up and quickly leaving. You wait for him patiently, and to be fair, it didn’t really take a long time. As if he’s already anticipated your hunger.
The door opens to reveal Ratio holding a tray of food. He sits down next to you and you can clearly see the.. Uh.. food? Much to Ratio’s dismay, your mind quickly changes again. He observes how you looked so appalled with the food he brought. 
Why does it look like green sludge? Is he trying to feed you poison? When he brings a spoonful of whatever he brought, you turn away with a grumble. But your conscience gnaws at you. You wanna be a good kid like how your teacher said! So you, with an unbroken-probably-slightly-broken will, turn back to Ratio who still holds the spoonful to your lips. You gulp cartoonishly, mentally preparing yourself for the battle of your tastebuds.
Quickly, you take a sip and surprisingly it tastes… nothing! It's soft and easy to swallow but that's about it. Nothing special about the meal. You decide to suck it up and keep eating the small spoonfuls that Ratio gives. When you finally finish the meals, a sigh of relief escapes from you when he offers you a glass of water to wash the ‘taste’ away. 
Nonetheless, the battle of your tastebuds is over! Huzzah! But wait- you are immediately distracted by a small, yellow, glossy pudding. Your eyes light up in excitement at the sight of sweet goodness. The pudding glistens as Ratio scoops a small spoonful and feeds to you. You, of course, take a bite as fast as you can.
You savor the velvety sweetness but comforting taste that completely melts in your mouth. Each spoonful fed, the messier you get, causing Ratio to sigh, “You were eating properly earlier and now here you are with a mess on your face.” You raised your hand to wipe your face but Ratio was quicker to wipe the sides of your mouth with a wet wipe. “Let me. You’ll only make a bigger mess” He grumbles. You giggle, the first time Ratio hears your voice.
“Oh? You even have the gall to laugh at the mess you made? The sugar must’ve gotten to you already. Perhaps no more pudding for you.” 
A horrified gasp escapes your lips and immediately you grab his sleeve and tug on it over and over. You stare at Ratio with big eyes that shimmers with apologies and hope for him not to confiscate the pudding you haven’t finished yet. The more that Ratio stares, the more impossible it felt for him to say no to you. 
Although to you, he looked stoic as he was before but you came at him with some prayers and a dream to eat pudding again. Your silent pleading finally works when Ratio sighs and gives you another spoonful of pudding. “Wasting food is not a good thing after all.” You nod, this time you eat carefully so as to not make a mess, lest you give him a chance to take your pudding away again.
You take a small rest to digest properly while Ratio is out to put the empty trays away. Perhaps it was out of boredom when you yawned. By the time Ratio comes back, you were already asleep. He sighs and comes closer to properly tuck you in the bed. Once finished, he just stares at you and thinks about what he needs to do next when you wake up.
A walk in the hospital's garden, some basic hygiene, and probably a place for you to stay. Yeah, sounds good to him. But first, he’s gotta complain to the resource management about the shitty blankets they have. Ratio stands up, turning the lights off on the way to the door. Leaving you with his coat tucked around you.
A/N: That's it for now folks! This is going to have multiple chapters that'll follow my headcanons so its not over yet :3. Thank you so much for reading! A like or a reblog would be very appreciated.
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thebluejoker · 1 year ago
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SHARING A ROOM WITH THEM
WARNINGS: No NSFW, SFW ONLY
TAGS: Teasing, feeling a little bit guilty, fluff
SHIP: Jax x reader, Ragatha x reader
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JAX
It's his fault
He decided to sneak into your room and leave some spiders there
Yeah, he knew you were afraid of them, that's kinda the point
He expected some screams, yells and frustration
What he didn't expect, was you not entering your room after finding out about the spiders
You REFUSED to go to sleep or even be near your door
Caine was somewhere else so he couldn't help you with the bugs
Ragatha isn't fan of bugs as well, so she politely declined your offer to get rid of them
She could take you into her room, but she wouldn't leave Jax with a punishment
And his punishment was you sad, right?
He wasn't satisfied with the news
I mean, yeah he pranked you, so what?
"Get over it, kid. You're not spending this night in my room"
He said and turned away to leave
He would eventually leave, if Ragatha didn't threatened to push him into the void
It sounded more like a promise by the way
So, later on, you were in his room, standing with a pillow and blanket that Ragatha gave you
She prayed for you as well
Jax, without hesitation, told you to sleep on the floor
There was only one bed and it was his only
As always, he expected you to be mad or upset
"Alright"
You said and seriously laid down on the floor, covering yourself up with the warm blanket and nuzzling into the pillow
That did surprise Jax
You didn't want to be near him so bad that you just went along with sleeping on the floor?
So easily???
WITHOUT SAYING A WORD???????
Nah, that cracked his ego
Yeah, he's an asshole, but not that bad one that you just sleep on the floor, without even looking bothered by it
Eventually he just dragged you into the bed
And I mean, DRAGGED
You refused to go into his bed, your literally fighted for your life, self-love and ego
But that purple rabbit is taller and stronger than you even though he looks like a damn stick
He didn't just drag you into his bed cause his ego was slightly cracked, but also cause he wanted to test a new way of teasing
He wrapped his arms around you
Yeah, it seems to sound romantic, but it was more like he was keeping you in jail
"You leave and I put a spider in your mouth"
You immediately stop fighting and just laid there, hoping that he was joking
The night started to get darker and deeper
But that doesn't mean he stopped talking
Or rather teasing
"I can hear you heartbeat getting quicker, crybaby"
He couldn't
You were the one pressed against his chest
In fact, his heartbeat was quicker than usual
He would never admit it, but it was the best night of his life here
You on other side couldn't sleep, thinking of how he would put a spider in your mouth
By the way, after that he putted bugs into your room more often
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RAGATHA
Oh, you both were having a sleepover
After you appeared in the amazing digital circus, you both quickly got along
You were good friends
Spending time with each other everyday
Eating lunch, dinner, dinner, breakfast, dinner, lunch together don't know what time it is, so..
Joking together
Hating Jax together
Being afraid of centipedes together
So, no wonder you came up with an idea to have a sleepover
You seemed to be very excited
While Ragatha too, but she felt nervous at the thought of sharing a bed with you
Not like she didn't wanted it
In fact, she wanted it very much
But it was quite embarrassing and it made her doll heart race
At the beginning, you both gossiped
Guess about who
You both also laughed like horses, interrupting everyone else sleep
You also tried to make her hair, but it was quite impossible
It was all good and nice until you both were tired if it's even possible in Digital circus
It was time for sleep
When you both laid down together, Ragatha thought she would "die"
You on the other side immediately fell asleep, feeling really comfortable
She's a soft toy after all
Ragatha couldn't sleep
Or move
Not sure if breath
She was afraid to wake you up
"They look so cute.."
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costinblazetwice · 1 year ago
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Back doors With Sana
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Male Reader X Sana
Genre: Smut; don’t think I need to mention what “back door” in smut means.
A/N: To all the men out there, I salute you as we near the end of November. 🫡
4.8K Words
You thought you knew everything about your girlfriend Sana—her hobbies, favorite foods, and what she enjoyed in bed.
However, one night revealed that there might be something you didn’t know about Sana. As she was on all fours and you thrust in and out of her, you absentmindedly placed your thumb on the outer rim of her asshole. This spontaneous action elicited a raspy moan from Sana, surprising both of you.
The subject of engaging in that kind of “act” never really resurfaced, and both of you remained somewhat shy about broaching the topic, which was surprising given Sana’s usual openness about her preferences.
But on a night when she was coming over to visit, everything changed. She walked in wearing a long sleeved shirt and shorts, a mischievous glint in her eyes. With a playful smile, she told you to sit down as she turned around, revealing her intention for the evening.
She playfully pulls her shorts down, revealing her bare ass adorned with a pink panty nestled snugly between her cheeks. Your gaze is fixed on her rounded backside, its pale color forming a stark contrast to the red hue that typically graces her cheeks whenever you fuck her.
Her slender back boasts a creamy-white complexion, unblemished and radiant. The slim structure is complemented by a subtle toning in the upper back, a testament to her dedication to intense dancing and exercise. While her hips aren’t significantly wide, a natural breadth seamlessly blends into the contours of her perfectly formed ass.
Sana turns her head so you can see her side profile, her lip turned upward in a smirk like she’s really got something to show you.
As she gracefully bends down, her enticing curves on display, she delicately spreads her cheeks with her hands, revealing an unexpected detail. Amidst the allure, you catch a glimpse of something pink, mostly concealed by her panties but with a distinctive shape protruding from her asshole. The realization hits you—it’s a heart-shaped butt plug. Your breath catches, and a moment of unexpected intrigue unfolds.
"I thought I'd try to take it out on my own, but you can do it for me, if you want."
Her smirk persists as her panties come off, using her hands to part her cheeks, the heart-shaped handle of the toy becoming more pronounced. Drawing yourself nearer, you’re mere inches away, your warm breath brushing against her exposed skin. The sensation tickles Sana, causing a subtle shiver to ripple through her legs.
Sana takes a deep breath, anticipation evident, as you slowly begin to pull the plug out. The unexpected dryness of the toy suggests it has occupied her intimately for quite some time. Each incremental withdrawal brings forth a unique sensation – a delicate, almost raspy friction against the tightness of her tiniest hole. As you continue, observing Sana’s body shuddering in response, the girthy silver object emerges, each inch marking its journey. Finally, a satisfying pop resonates, her asshole instinctively clenching around the void.
Sana lets out a whimper as the toy now sits in your hand, warm to the touch from being in her hole. You look to her asshole to see it clenching, larger in diameter than it would be otherwise.
As you hold the butt plug in your hand, its warmth resonates, and a glossy shine hints at the lingering traces of the lube she used during the initial insertion.
Your eyes drift to the bed and in a wordless exchange Sana lifts herself up and sits atop the mattress. You two continue where you had just left off, you moving closer to Sana who has repositioned herself on all fours, her rear in a provocative display. You take the butt plug and delicately tap it against her lips.
“Open wide, Sana,” you whisper, and she complies, her tiny mouth welcoming the object. Turning it in circular motions, you grant her a taste of herself. She moans, slobbering on it as her saliva leaves its mark on the bed.
Sana’s enthusiastic response to tasting herself, even in this realm of kinkiness, surprises you, adding an unexpected layer to the kinky behavior of Sana in the bedroom.
She pops the plug out of her mouth, turning to face you. Without missing a beat, she crashes her lips onto yours, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. Your senses become engulfed as her tongue navigates the terrain, leaving behind the unmistakable taste of her ass—slightly bitter, slightly salty, and a strange taste that can only be compared to the metallic flavor of copper. When Sana engages in a makeout session, she goes all in, ensuring your tongue bears the marks of the passionate encounter long after.
She pulls back, a dripping mess of saliva on both of your mouths as she gives you a mischievous grin.
“How’d I taste?”
“Like a… penny?” You furrow your eyebrows as you attempt to come up with a good analogy but can’t think of one to describe the bitter, salty, slightly copper taste from her rear.
“We’ll definitely need to brush our teeth once we’re done here,” she says with a laugh, setting herself on all fours with her cheeks spread, a smile on her face as she looks at you across her shoulder.
“Well? It’s not going to pleasure itself.”
Her pretty pink asshole stares at you, tiny in composition. A compelling desire to taste her overwhelms you, prompting a lean-in to give her pucker a swift lick. Instantly, a robust bodily musk aroma envelops your face—a mellow yet slightly harsh scent that unfurls. Unsurprisingly, the lingering musk carries traces of the day’s activities, the result of a butt plug nestled within for several hours, accumulating the essence of Sana’s movements and sweat.
Sana squeaks as your tongue smoothly enters her puckered hole, whirling her insides with ferocity, gradually tasting every inch of her ass that your tongue can afford, the deviant yet pleasing pressure of your vibrating tongue causing her entire body to stiffen.
The taste is stronger than the smell, with bitterness and a hint of salt overtaking your taste buds. However it doesn't deter you from continuing your oral assault. You lap your tongue in her hole, making sure to go all around the edges, occasionally flicking your tongue over the tip of her sphincter, before dipping it back into her ass.
“Fuck baby, I knew this would be good,” Sana lets out in a low growl as she reaches back with her hand and pushes your face further into her ass, wanting you to push your tongue deep inside her hole.
You comply, seizing both of her cheeks and parting them wider, granting you better access to her ass. Her hips press back, urging more of your tongue into her hole. Simultaneously, she grinds against your mouth, your nose buried deep in her crack, saturated with her most primal scent. The sweaty skin adheres to your face, a tangible connection amid the passionate exploration.
The overwhelming musk continues to permeate, serving as an aphrodisiac, inspiring you to eat her asshole with greater fervor, the sticky moisture of saliva dripping from Sana's ass and collecting onto the bed, while stray fluids fall to your chin.
The outer ring of her ass is completely drenched in your spit, the tiny pink hole clenching just inches from your face serving as Sana’s instinctive response that her hole wants you.
“Baby, how’re you so good at this?” Sana inquires in a breathy moan, her hand returning to her dripping cunt, slick with her slimy arousal. Part of it dangles on her inner thigh as she begins to rub herself.
A sudden urge tempts you to shift attention to her eager cunt, but the memory of how badly Sana has desired this keeps you focused on the pleasure you’re bestowing upon her asshole.
As Sana moans in appreciation, her hand working fervently between her thighs, you remain devoted to the task at hand. Your tongue continues its rhythmic exploration, tracing the contours of her puckered hole with deliberate intent. The taste, a potent mix of bitterness and salt from the sweat, fuels your determination to unravel every nuance of pleasure hidden within.
The texture inside her ass is like that of a sponge, clinging and sticking to your tongue as you explore its contours. The taste inside her ass is salty, the sweat dripping into your mouth, while the musky scent fills the air, a heady combination of sweat and an aroma similar to that of the damp earth after heavy rain.
As Your tongue plunges deeper into her puckered hole, you add a finger, Sana’s body shuddering as the tightness gives way. Another finger joins in, and her moans amplify, the rhythmic dance making her arch and grip the sheets.
“Baby, my ass feels so full,” she moans, her ass clenching around your two fingers. The tightness bears down, the inner walls of her hole becoming intimately noticeable. You pump her gently, easing her into the sensation. She hisses in response, pleasure overpowering the initial sting.
After a few more well-timed pumps, you skillfully retract your fingers from Sana’s rear, eyes focused on the scene unfolding. Her hole, notably wider than at the start, momentarily clenches before gracefully easing back into an alluring openness. It’s like an erotic ballet, a visually enticing dance that vividly signals her preparedness for something more large, more big in size.
“I can’t hold back any longer, Sana,” escapes your lips in a guttural groan. Swiftly, you yank down your pants, revealing a throbbing member slick with the glistening promise of precum. Sana, catching the raw desire in the air, turns her body around with an audible lick of her lips, her eyes locked on the pulsating anticipation.
“You’re getting this hard from my ass?” She smirks, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Leaning down, she plants a teasing peck on the slit of your throbbing cock. Pulling back, your precum clings to her lips, and with a skillful hand, she gathers it up before sensually placing it into her eager mouth.
A low, raspy groan escapes you as you take the fingers that were just immersed in Sana, guiding them to her waiting mouth, where the mingling of the taste of her ass and the warmth of her mouth creates an intimate fusion. The bitter yet salty essence from her most intimate depths adds an irresistible layer to the exploration.
She licks it up, slobbering your fingers with her saliva. She pulls back, her facial expression undergoes a lewd metamorphosis; her eyes, dark pools of desire, lock onto yours with intensity. A mischievous smile tugs at her lips, adorned with a glistening trail of your precum. It’s a mix of lust and satisfaction, the taste of your liquid mixed with the bitter taste of her most secret hole causing her to instinctively guide her hand to her cunt and begin rubbing it in circular motions viciously.
Her arousal pools on the bed, the sticky substance dripping slowly, akin to a raindrop descending on glass. Sensually she spits out a generous amount of saliva over your cock.
As she spits, Sana wears a mischievous grin, the playful curve of her lips matching the audacious act. The corners of her mouth twitch slightly, a sign of confidence. The saliva leaves her lips in a controlled spray, guided by her deliberate movements. With a skilled hand, she lathers it across your length in a provocative display.
“Fuck baby you’re so hot,” she declares bringing her face closer to yours as he her expression changes. The mischievous grin gives way to a more intense gaze, her eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that transcends words. There’s a hint of vulnerability in the slight furrow of her brows, revealing the depth of desire that fuels the moment.
Her heated breath grazes your face as her mouth finds your neck, delivering a delicate bite while her hand moves with a deliberate pace, stroking your member. Breasts pressed against yours, both of you relying on your knees for support on top of the bed. A moan escapes your lips, harmonizing with the sensations coursing through you as she continues to suck on your neck. Your hand ventures, caressing her abdomen near her navel, a silent acknowledgment of restraint, holding back from the temptation of pushing your fingers into her cunt, mindful that your fingers have already explored the depths of her ass.
She withdraws, a lingering ache marking the spot where her bite left its mark, reminiscent of a vampire savoring the aftermath. Her lips meet yours in a swift kiss, and as she pulls away, you’re greeted by the sight of her flushed cheeks, plump lips, and glossy eyes. A wide smile spreads across her face, evolving into a soft laugh. Returning for another round, she leans in, this time planting a tender peck on your nose.
“I love you so much, Y/N. Thank you so much for doing this with me.”
You reciprocate with a smile, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. The lingering sexual tension in the air takes a brief respite as you both share this intimate moment—a gesture of affection from Sana, a token of gratitude for embracing a kink she’s harbored and eagerly wanted to explore with you.
“So, should we get started?” She says with a smile as she lets herself out of your embrace, ass jiggling with each small step as she heads to the the coffee table next to the bed, pulling out a bottle which you can clearly see as lube, but it’s half empty.
“I’ve been practicing for a while now,” she smirks, settling back on the bed. On all fours, her ass spreads in your direction as she hands you the lube. The subtle anticipation in the air intensifies, your hands twisting the bottle open to reveal the clear liquid, clear of any smell as you let it drip over your hand.
You bring it to the inside of her cheeks and spread it around the outer ring of her asshole, finding enjoyment in Sana’s swaying of her ass at the cool sensation.
Sana is on all fours, head turned to the side on a pillow, her hands gripping the bedsheets. You reach forward and grab her ass cheeks with both hands, squeezing the firm flesh. You spread them apart, revealing her puckered hole. It gapes slightly from the attention, and you can see inside slightly, to the glistening of her ass awaiting your touch.
You let the lube cascade over your fingers, slick and giving your digits a shine. With deliberate precision, you insert two fingers into Sana’s pretty pink asshole, the lube seamlessly merging with the moisture from your spit from prior. Sana’s groans echo in response as you pump her several times, ensuring the lube thoroughly coats the inner recesses of her ass.
“I love the way you pump me, babe.”
She lets out a soft whimper, arching her back as you continue to work your fingers in and out of her. Her hole eagerly accepts the presence, gradually relaxing as it acclimates to the attention. You slowly withdraw, leaving a subtle shine behind.
You now insert a third finger, pumping in and out with more vigor. You press down on her ass with your other hand, feeling the firm muscle underneath the supple skin. Sana lets out a long, low groan of pleasure, her hips bucking with each thrust.
Expanding your fingers, you widen her hole, and the tight ring of muscle alternates between clenching and relaxing around your digits, drawing them in deeper. Delving further, you navigate the warm, slick walls, your fingers effortlessly gliding in and out. Sana’s moans now form a continuous melody, her breaths growing heavy and ragged.
Retracting your fingers, you reach for the lube bottle once more. Directly pouring it into her asshole, you observe the clear fluid trickle down the curve of her ass, eventually making its way onto the sheets beneath. Sana gasps, shivering as the cool liquid encounters her sensitive skin. Employing both hands, you spread the lube generously across her entire crack. Your fingers deftly dance over her asshole, teasing the edges, and skillfully dipping in and out.
You withdraw, taking a moment to appreciate your handiwork. Her asshole glimmers, catching the dim light and radiating a subtle shine. Leaning in, you lavish it with your tongue, relishing the sweet tang of her skin entwined with the musky, earthy notes of the lube. Your face nestles into her ass, and you breathe deeply, immersing yourself in the intoxicating aroma. It permeates your senses, a heady fusion of sweat, sex, and unbridled lust.
Craving more, you extend your tongue once again, adopting a slower pace to savor the sensations. Your tongue glides over her puckered hole, tracing circles, exploring every contour. She shudders beneath your touch, releasing a low, sensuous moan. Continuing to lap at her ass, you alternate between sucking and licking, indulging in the feast before you. You continue to push your tongue inside her, feeling the warm, moist walls contract around it.
You want to keep going, to keep pleasuring her, to make her cum. But you also want to fuck her. You can feel your cock throbbing, aching with need. You can't wait any longer. You need to be inside her.
You take the lube bottle and pour what little remains onto your cock. You spread the slick fluid along the length of your shaft, stroking it slowly, coating it thoroughly. Sana is still on all fours, her ass presented to you, her hole gaping and ready.
Sana positions herself, spreading her cheeks with both hands. A seductive glance over her shoulder meets your gaze, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “What are you waiting for?” she asks, her entire body an enticing canvas—from her cute feet to her long, slender legs, and finally, to the focal point of your desire, her cute, round ass.
“Breathe for me honey, I promise I’ll take it slow,” you respond as you gauge Sana’s reaction, looking at you over her shoulder with a smile on her face, nodding her head. You take a deep breath, aligning your cock with the center of her contracted hole, awaiting in anticipation for the upcoming penetration.
You ease your length in ever so slightly, encountering immediate resistance from her tightness despite the generous coating of lube. Sana responds with a groan, a mix of pleasure and pain echoing in the room. Your face scrunches and you grip her ass tightly, resisting the urge to halt for Sana’s sake, well aware of how much she desires this moment.
The sensation differs entirely from her pussy. While her cunt envelops you in warmth and tightness, her ass resists, preventing any escape and cocooning you in its warm embrace. It feels like there’s no place to go, the unique tension creating an intimate connection.
You persist in pushing, watching as Sana buries her face into the pillow. She harshly grips the bedsheets, each gasp escaping her lips marking the inches you advance further into her.
Finally, your hips meet her ass, your cock completely buried in her hole. Sana takes a deep breath, and you witness her asshole twitch, making attempts to accommodate your length. As you give her the necessary time to adjust, you notice her hands clenching the sheets, knuckles turning white. Leaning forward, you stroke her hair with one hand, while the other gently rests on her hips.
“It’s okay. Just breathe, honey,” you say softly.
“You’re so big,” she whispers with a whimper as you imagine the look on her face as her head remains rested on the pillow. A smile graces your face. Continuing to stroke her hair, you wait patiently as her body acclimates to the intimate intrusion.
The sensation is almost beyond comprehension, and as Sana shifts slightly, her ass constricts around your cock, eliciting a moan from deep within. The rhythmic stabilization of her breathing signals that it’s time to continue with the intimate dance.
You initiate a slow withdrawal, the friction from the walls of Sana’s ass intense, as if her body is reluctant to release its hold on your cock. As just the tip remains, you glance down, discovering her hole gaping ever so slightly. A wave of pleasure courses through your entire body at the visual confirmation of her stretched ass.
You lean back down and kiss the top of her spine as you start to push back in. You can tell she is bracing herself for the fullness again, and when your hips finally reach her ass, she lets out a quiet groan, a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“So good, Sana.”
“Mhmm~”
With her wordless hum you continue with your thrusts, increasing in intensity slightly as you gauge the way Sana’s body reacts, sweat glistening her back and ass jiggling with each pump. From her groans you can tell she’s in a mixture of pain and pleasure, but this lovely girlfriend would never tell you the truth of just how much it hurts, wanting to instead prioritize your pleasure.
Despite the initial application of lube, each thrust seems to draw more dryness, prompting you to moisten your member with sporadic spurts of saliva. The once-abundant bottle of lube now sits empty, a testament to the fervor of your shared passion.
“Baby, my ass, my ass is so hot~”
You’re not sure how to take that, whether that be a pleasurable hot or not but from the moans that escape her lips in between you assume it’s somewhere in between.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as with each stroke your balls collide with her cunt. She arches her back, pushing her ass into you, meeting your every thrust. The two of you are in perfect rhythm, moving together as if you are one.
The profound pleasure from her tightest hole engulfs you. Grasping her waist firmly, the paleness of her skin transforms into a warm rosy hue. The duet of your moans crescendos, with your own growing louder, fueling Sana’s arousal evident in the glistening desire escaping from her eager cunt.
You lean forward and wrap your arms around her, pulling her body up to yours as her back touches your abdomen. She turns her head, and you kiss her, your tongues dancing together as you continue to fuck her. Sweat sits on your entwined forms, and the unmistakable scent of sex hangs in the air.
“Sana, I’m about to cum,” you groan, pulling back to speak with your warm breath tickling her face, your pace increasing as Sana hums in response, your grip on her waist tightening.
With every intensified breath, her entire body tenses in response to your deepening thrusts. As you approach your limit, the tightening of your balls is palpable.
A rhythmic throb courses through your cock as you release your load inside her, warm seed coating the inner walls, the swelling of your cock in the tightness of her ass feels as though your erection is caught in a warm embrace that won’t let go.
Sana’s breaths slows down to a more relaxed pace, her body unwinding beneath your lingering caress. In the aftermath, you revel in the intimacy, your softened member still connected, sitting snugly in her warm ass.
A tender kiss on the nape of Sana’s neck seals the moment, your warm breath melding with the sweat-kissed skin.
“That was amazing,” you murmur, observing Sana glance back, her hair tousled and lips tinted, a contented smile playing on her face.
You slowly begin to pull your cock out, watching how the girth of your cock had stretched her asshole so, the hole barely contracting to its normal size, the wrinkles around her pink hole expanding as you pull out. Your cum begins to slowly trickle out, and your heart skips a beat as you watch the white substance slowly roll down her taint and down her pussy lips, staining her already wet thighs.
Following your withdrawal, Sana gracefully collapses onto the bed, her stomach pressed against the sheets. You join her, lying on your back, and catch her smirking gaze.
A laugh escapes her lips, admitting with a playful tone, “Sitting’s not going to be easy for a while,” as her hands gently trace the warmth on her reddened bosom.
Confusion clouds her expression as she pouts with knitted brows, your murmur of “Sana, I’m sorry,” being responsible for the expression on her face.
Her eyes meet yours, a mix of curiosity and concern as you continue, “You didn’t… finish, did you?”
She understands now, coming closer so her head rests on your chest, the sweat of her hands mixing with the perspiration on your body.
“Babe, I knew cumming from my first time doing this wouldn’t be easy. It’s okay.”
She looks up at you with those almond eyes of hers, the corners of her mouth turned up on her blushed skin.
Her eyes meet yours, curiosity shining, “It was still really fun. But how was it for you, babe?”
A chuckle escapes as you respond, “I mean I definitely had a good time in a hole that tight. Glad we did this. My cock is very thankful.”
She laughs, inquiring further, “which of the two do you prefer?”
The question catches you off guard as you ponder the correct answer before Sana breaks your train of thought.
“How about we answer at the same time?”
“Huh?”
“Silly, what I’m saying is at the count of 3 we’ll both say which one of the, well, “holes” we prefer.”
“Uh… ok?”
“Alright, one, two… three!”
“Pussy!”
“Vagina!”
Laughter ensues between you two, your choice being more straightforward while Sana opts for a more formal term.
She gazes up at you, one eyebrow lifted in a silent encouragement for you to keep going.
“I mean, it was good, a whole different kind of tightness. But when it comes down to it, I still prefer your pussy. The tightness, the wetness, the way it grips. Plus, the whole preparation and hygiene aspects are incomparable.”
As your words unfold, your cock lightly twitches, the memory of Sana’s cunt, the warmth and wetness vividly replaying in your mind. Disappointment settles in, realizing her dripping cunt’s heat was only felt by her today.
“How about you?” you inquire, a hint of curiosity in your voice.
She pouts in thought, taking time to gather her words before continuing.
“It was enjoyable… but in a weird way? It felt different than usual. I think the situation made it hotter. Like having sex in that area made it kinda hot but it felt different than the usual.”
“That’s because there aren’t as many nerve endings in your ass,” you casually mention. Her eyes light up, using her elbows to prop herself up, a big smile on her face.
“Nerve endings?”
“I’m not giving you an anatomy lesson,” you joke, the playful banter echoing in the intimate aftermath.
“How was the buttplug? Couldn’t have been too comfortable having that in all day,” you ask, changing the subject to one that had essentially started all this in the first place.
“Hmm, it wasn’t comfortable but just having it in kinda turned me on. Like the situation of knowing it was digging into me with every step I took.”
As she speaks she sits up, spreading her legs to reveal her cunt drenched in her pristine wetness, the inner lips glistening under their clearness.
“Look, I wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t enjoyable.”
You internally groan as she spreads herself with her fingers, you wanting nothing more than to take her right now but knowing you can’t as your hands, mouth, and cock have been in her ass and for hygenic reasons it would be best not to.
“Sana, I think it’s time for a shower,” you mention, rising from the bed. As you choose new clothes from the closet, your back faces Sana, who discreetly observes the glistening sweat off your back and the toned physique which includes the firmness of your ass, providing a striking contrast to the more voluptuous curves of hers. You can’t blame her, she is a girl after all.
You turn back to Sana, a fresh pair of clothes in hand, and suggest, “Join me in the shower?” She attempts to rise but immediately collapses with a yelp, the lingering sensation in her ass making movement difficult.
Concern etches your face as you rush to her side. “Sana, are you alright?” you ask, your brow furrowed and lips slightly parted in worry. She reassures you, explaining that the aftermath is intense but temporary.
“This is going to be harder than I thought.” She whines, looking up at you with a pout and adorable puppy eyes as you can’t help but let out a chuckle.
Carrying her in your arms, princess-style, elicits a surprised squeal from Sana. You navigate towards the bath, her body pressed close to yours.
“I guess I’ll stick to your cunt for now. But… I wouldn’t mind doing this again someday.”
704 notes · View notes
yaut-jaknowit · 2 months ago
Note
So assuming that the reader is AMAB what if…Gawtin got prego with his pup 0^0
-🥤
A Family
Character: Gawtin (Female Yautja) X AMAB!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, breeding, dirty thoughts and words, praise, dom!reader, sub!Gawtin (For the most part), creampie, size difference, fluff.
Word Count: 4221
Summary: Qui'oky has grown up and passed his chiva with flying colors. This means, the once young child has become a full fledged hunter and goes off on his own. The house is now empty. Qui'oky was never your blood but you raised him like your child. Now... you are having thoughts of another child in the house.
Author Note: Okay, I might have gone off a little in a different direction. I guess my brain at the time really wanted smut. I might have to write a part two with the Gawtin actually pregnant and reader taking care of her. Oooooo, yesss!
Masterlist
Ao3
Gawtin’s youngest child, Qui’oky has finally left the nest to face the world. The dwelling for once has become quiet and calm all over again. A cycle that continued to happen over and over with each child born and brought into this world. Unlike this time, Gawtin has waited a lot long this time to even toy with the idea of having another child. It’s all because of her mate. Someone who wasn’t Yautja. A hybrid would be created.
In her clan, hybrids were severely frowned upon. Same with oomans. But, here were you. A little ooman surviving their way through a species that hunts for a living. And oomans weren’t off of the menu. You have made it this far though. Surpassing many that have speculated death would come to you quickly.
An artist? You wield pencils? Not even a knife to protect yourself? Many thought you as crazy. But when an outside male came to visit someone within and saw you. He had come up to you and tried to simply speak with you, a towering, lumbering female was behind him in an instant. Nothing shall harm her ooman, her mate. He may have meant no harm but Gawtin wasn’t going to take a single chance. She understood the fragility of oomans. Seen how easy they break under her hands from past experiences.
No one will ever harm you.
From that day on, everyone understood how you’ve survived so far. With a Yautja who’s protective of what’s hers. Everyone kept a wide berth from you, knowing if the offended you or the female, they could end up as a wall decorative. Not that you didn’t have your friends within the small clan of about fifty. But Gawtin kept you safe.
The quietness in the home was… haunting. No sharpening of blades, the constant chittering coming from Oky as he prepares for his chiva. He was nervous and excited at the same time. He would go on and on about all the scars he hopes to get. Or the trophies he wants to earn after he becomes an adult.
Now, with him gone off into the world, paving his own path… the house was still of life. You lounged in Gawtin’s lap on the couch. Besides her, there was no one else here. You were honestly sad about it. Heartbroken to see him leave. You were beyond proud for his win. He made it pass a challenging point in his life. Not the last one but still, he made it.
Gawtin rested with her eyes closed, softly napping away the daylight. The pencil and paper in your hand are forgotten about temporarily. She has one of her hands on your thigh. Said hand was nearly taking up the entirety of your skin. You tilted your head back to look at her resting form. She looked so peaceful like this.
Maybe after so long with a child in the house, she was enjoying the peace and quiet for once. The constant mothering can wear someone down. Gawtin deserves this rest.
But… what if there was another child running around?
Something ran down the length of your spine after the thought. Another little one to take care of. You missed helping and teaching Qui’oky. Now, with your ability to live longer thanks to Gawtin, you needed something else to fill the void in your heart.
What would Gawtin think? Her mother is strongly against you and your existence in her clan. How would that fare if a hybrid between a human and Yautja lived near her. You feared the repercussions and the unknowns of what Ma’tan-aih would do to the child. It’s not like you could even match her strength or intelligence if a fight occurred. But, you made Gawtin happy. That’s all that matters to you in the end. Not her mother’s approval or acknowledgment.
The pencil in your hand was slipped behind your ear. You pursed your lips and looked up at Gawtin’s lightly napping form. Those dirty thoughts wouldn’t leave your mind. To see her round with your child. Fuck, that did something to you that you didn’t even know was possible. You wanted to be there every moment to help her. You wanted to help her, soothe her aches, feed her, learn to hunt her favorite foods.
When you finally slipped out of your drowning thoughts, you notices a purple gaze on you. You gasped and darted your gaze to your forgotten sketch. Your hand empty of a pencil. As if you had taken a moment break and got caught.
Gawtin’s green hand reached up and tugged the pencil behind your ear free. The pencil was offered to your empty hand. “Forgetting something?” she rumbled with a slight, alien smirk to her features. You pressed your lips together. Caught red handed.
A nervous giggle fell from your lips. You bowed your head and shyly plucked the tool from her pinched fingers. “Oh… yeah, thanks.” Out of all the time you’ve been with her, you should’ve been able to even sense what she was about to do before she did it. Yet, you’ve grown accustomed to her movements and didn’t feel a need to be on high alert.
That same green hand pinched at your chin and turned your head to face her fully. “Care to explain what thoughts distract you, little one?” she questioned with a soft, gentle tone. Her voice slightly airy from her sleep addled brain. A well-deserved nap that is.
Heat brushed against your cheeks. You cleared your throat and tried to turn away. But, the hunk of muscle didn’t allow for that to happen. She made you face her and the embarrassment of airing your thoughts out.
Even when you tried to cast your gaze down to your lap, she jerk your head and grabbed your attention fully.
“Well… I had been just thinking. Just some wild thoughts. Like-like the ones that come out of nowhere. Just couldn’t help myself think of them, you know?” you blabbered to hopefully please the Yautja and move on. A shaky smile flashed your teeth at her.
She tilted her head towards you and gave you a look. A groan passed your lips. You threw your head back with a huff. “God, you know me too well, love. Fine, fine. You got me. I was just thinking…” you trailed off for a moment to collect your thoughts. “It’s been lonely, empty without Qui’oky in the house now. And, I don’t know about you, but I kind of wanna make it not so empty.” You pushed your shoulders up towards your ears while looking at her.
“You want to have a child with me?” Gawtin asked for clarification from you. Coming out like that made it seem dirty or wrong. Like that was just the sole purpose of being with her.
At first, you sputtered and stumbled over yourself. “What?! No, I just thought it would be nice. To have another little one running around.” She kept staring at you with those beautiful purple eyes that made you melt even after all the years with her. You sighed. “Yeah, I do. I can’t help it. I don’t know if being on this planet has final affected or whatnot. But I feel strong about seeing you pregnant. I-I’m sorry.” You felt wrong for these emotions. A dirty thought that should’ve stayed hidden in the depths of your mind till the day you died.
Her fingers tightened on your chin and tugged you a little closer to your face. “Why are you sorry for such a feeling? It is natural. Yautja or ooman,” she explained in a firm voice. Your cheeks heated more. Of course she would agree. This is normal in her culture, her society. Maybe that’ll explain these feelings.
The whole… breeding thing was one thing that separated the two societies completely. It’s part of their lifestyle. You go up to a woman you know somewhat and say that to her. Don’t be surprised if you get punched and pepper sprayed. For good reason.
And, yeah. You’ve been with Gawtin for many years now. You felt wrong for demeaning her in such a way. To only see her as a breeding machine. Gawtin was way more that. That thought never crossed your mind in all the time you’ve been with her. Maybe the simple idea of having a child with her but never such a need about… breeding her. You gnawed on your bottom lip and forced yourself to look away. Gawtin grunted and jerked your chin to force you to find her gaze all over again.
“Answer my question, little one,” she demanded and leaned in an inch closer. Her lumbering frame easily towered over your lax form. You felt yourself tense up a little with a minute whimper. But it’s not that you feared her. Far from it. She could never truly scare her. Your heart was held in her hands and you completely trusted her every step of the way.
A sigh escaped you. “I know it’s natural. At least for you guys. But for us, we don’t think that way outwardly. Yes, I would get questions from my parents when I would have children. This…” you trailed off and closed your eyes for only a moment. “These thoughts about -em, breeding you, isn’t normal for me. Not these strong thoughts about-“ you cut yourself off before anything fell from your lose lips.
Gawtin leaned even closer in, upper mandibles twitching. A gem-studded brow was raised. “Go on,” Gawtin urged and pinched your chin slightly tighter. You pushed your own brows together and looked at her. “Say it.”
Shit. She really wants you to admit your darkest secrets to her. Yet, you saw the dark flash in her eyes. That gave a small boost of confidence.
“I have strong thoughts about, about breeding you, love. I know you’re much bigger than me. I know I’m not as big as male Yautjas but fuck. I just want to be between those gorgeous legs of yours and leave every ounce of my cum inside of you.” The images were flashing between your eyelids with each blink. “I wanna see when it takes. I wanna see your belly grow, breasts fill with milk. All because of me.”
Once the first word fell from your lips, it came out like a waterfall. All you could do was imagine the way she looked underneath you. One of her legs hoisted on your shoulder, using it like an anchor point with each thrust into her. You bite hard at your lip and squirmed your hips when you felt your cock twitch. The thoughts turning your blood hot with fire and need.
A need for your mate to be heavy with your child.
Is this how male Yautjas feel? Has being on this planet for so long turned your brain into mush? You thought more like a Yautja rather than a human that you are.
It was impossible to deny the growing bulge of your loin cloth. Your blood flowing south.
The purple of Gawtin’s eyes darkened completely. Her hand swiftly switched to your throat and gripped it tightly, fingers touching at your spine. “Is that so?” she rasped out, mandibles twitching wildly. She could feel the way your throat bobbed with a swallow. Her grasp tightened a fraction, but you felt it.
“Yes.”
That came from the heart she holds in her hands. Your heartbeat started to increase. Your jaw slackened to take quicker breaths. She made you react like this. Years together and nothing has changed. You still will ravage her stunning, drop-dead gorgeous body like the first time you saw it. Actually, you probably are harder, rougher on her than the first time. Because, you know what she can take; you know what she likes, what she craves.
Growls from deep within her broad chest vibrated along your skin. Your breath stuttered. The bulge only growing more noticeable. Shit, the things she does to you.
But you wanted to be in control. Let her bask in the pleasure you give her as you breed her.
So, you grasp her wrist and pressed a pressure point on the inside of her wrist. A spot she taught you for protection. Her fingers slip off of your throat. You keep the pressure and use it to pin her arm to the back of the couch.
“And I’m going to do while you take what I give. I’ll do all the hard work. I’ll take care of you.” You were only getting harder, painfully behind the loin cloth that did nothing to hide your arousal. “Rub your ankles, your feet. Draw baths at anytime. I’ll learn to hunt. I’ll learn to be the best mate you could ever ask for. I want to take care of you. You just sit or lie there. I’ll do the rest.” Yet, you didn’t want to do it on the couch. You wanted to worship her body for the temple she is. “Will you let me?”
That there is the final question. If your mate will give up the control she loves so much. The reins she doesn’t mind holding onto, that she really enjoys having.
Now, you looked directly at her, eye level, while straddling her lap. The wrist you held onto twitched but otherwise, she let you have the limb. Even if you weren’t pressing down on the certain spot anymore.
Gawtin continued to look you in the eyes.
Then, she nodded.
Relief flooded you. Alongside lust. “Good.” The hold on her wrist was released onto the grasp her tress and tug on the sensitive organ. “Come. I want to make this moment memorable. I want to know our child was created in the comfort of our bed.”
She had all the power to take control, to push you off, to rip your hand off of her tress. Yet, Gawtin allowed for you to pull her along and follow your eager form into the bedroom. You led her to the bed and gave a small tug on the tress. Gawtin got onto the bed and laid down, legs spread.
Before you climbed on after her, you stopped to admired the sight you cherished every time. She may not be naked, but she was beautiful, nevertheless. You loved her more than she would ever know. That it hurts your heart that much.
You gingerly followed her and knelt between her open, inviting legs. “Look at you, my dear.” Both of your hands went to the inside of her knees and ran down the softer scales on the inside. “I fucking love you so much, love.” Until you reached close to the apex of her thighs. Where she needed you most. Where you needed to be the most. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant with our child. I’ll take such good care of you.”
“There won’t be a thing you’ll want. You’ll have everything.” You skipped over her groin and ran your palms up her stomach until you reached about her midriff. The farthest you could reach without tipping over. One arm was planted at her side while the other continued the path up towards her chest coverings. “I promise with everything I’m made up of.”
The tie on the front was easily undone. Her breasts spilled out from the confines. For Yautjas, their breasts weren’t large unless they were breastfeeding. But fuck, she filled your hands more than enough.
With two fingers, you tweak a nipple. The rise of her chest sputtered. The Yautja’s eyes fluttered lightly and looked at you from under hooded eyes. You leaned down all while making eye contact the whole way and sucked the other nipple into your awaiting mouth.
Soft pressure and licks over the bud had it grow to a peak. Her mandibles tightened over her features. You realized it with a pop and dragged your bottom teeth over the ridge. A gasp tore from her throat that turned into a low whine. Your face scrunched together as you fought off your baser instincts to just ravage her.
That is the one thing that splits you from her species. You will always do foreplay, no matter how horny or pent up either of you are. Her comfort is at the peak of your concerns.
“And the noises you make, my dear.” You switched to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. Never did your eyes leave hers. “They drive me absolutely crazy. That I know I do those things to you. I drive you wild with my touches. Now with the knowledge of what my intent is.” Your bottom teeth crazed over the bud as well.
Both tips were wettened. You puckered your lips and lightly blew cool air over each one. Gawtin’s claws dug into the sheets. Her thighs clenched around your waist and trapped you to her. You had sat up on your knees and used all of your strength to open up her legs.
“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to hide away from me.” The tips of your nails ran down from the underside of her breast until her hips. The loose piece of fabric that hangs on the front was brushed away. You leaned down, unfortunately breaking eye contact.
Only one piece of clothing blocked you from seeing her fully. The fabric was damp. Her arousal was thick in the air, being this close to her. It made you dizzy with need. You were swift to pull the clothing off of her and tossing it somewhere in the room. Then, you slowed back down when you finally reach the prize.
Moss green blending into pink folds slickened with arousal. You couldn’t help you reaching down and adjusting yourself in your pants. The ache was growing to a point of pain. You had to distract yourself before the line made you different from Yautjas blurred.
One of her hands slipped down to rest at the edge of her belly. Her fingers twitched towards you, desperate for control. You lifted up your head and gave a stern look at her. The Yautja whined with a huff and let her hand slip back down onto the bed. “Good girl,” you praised then lowered yourself back down to the prize at hand.
You forced yourself to got at a slow approach and tentatively lick a stripe along her three clitorises’. They formed triangle at the apex of her sex. All of them could grow nearly four inches long. Once you reached the top one, you wrapped your mouth around it and sucked.
Gawtin’s back rises off of the bed with a keen that pierced the air. Your arms hooked around her thighs and pulled yourself as close as possible to her. The smell, the taste of her had you dazed, feeling only a need for her. She was going to be the mother of your child. The two of you. You couldn’t help you grinding your hips down on a fur blanket. The friction could be felt along your leaking, clothed shaft.
“I know, baby. I know. I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you cooed to her after pulling off. The nub hardening and growing longer. You licked a stripe between her ribbed folds, trying to hit all the small lumps. Bumps that all gave her pleasure. “Fuck, you taste so good.” You pressed your face hard into her sex and dug your tongue as deep as possible.
The taste of her exploded on your tongue with each lick. You whined when no more greeted your tastebuds. You were forced to peel off of her and sit up.
A heat of passion throbbed in your groin. Your hands scrambled to take off the cloth, nearly ripping the fabric off. “I-I can’t take it. I need you, love. Fuck, I’m only human. I can’t fucking take it!” You had broken. It was impossible to resist her. You could never say no to her. Not when she tastes so good, feels like heaven, and sounds like a siren’s call.
When your pants were removed, you cock slapped against your stomach. The tip flushed with blood and dribbling pre-cum. You shuffled on your knees as close as possible to her and lined it up. One look into her eyes was all you needs. The entire length was thrusted into her. Your hips slapping against her hips with an obscene noise.
Pants quickened your breath. Your hands instantly went to her hips and gripped the flesh tightly. “Fuck me. Goddamnit. You… god, you feel so good.” A second was barely given to the green Yautja as you pulled your hips back and thrusted forward again. “I’m going to breed you, love. I’m gonna fill you up with my seed over and over again. I don’t care how long it takes. I want you fucking pregnant!”
Thoughts you’ve been holding onto for so long exploded to the surface. These ideas long buried and hidden. But today, today was the day they were exposed for her ears to hear.
Your hips jackhammered into her, angling them just at the right point for your tip strike a spot deep in her. “You’re mine, Gawtin. Mine only. I-I’ll show everyone. I’ll show your asshole mom you’re my mate!” Everything about her you wanted to have. You had her heart the same way she has yours. You would kill anyone for trying to take her away from you. She’s yours.
The way she squeezed you, the tightness of her muscles made you see stars. Both of your hands stayed on her hips, needing purchase for how forceful your thrusts were. Your eyes were clenched shut, deep in focus. All the thoughts were running wild, claws to the surface. Each one pouring from your lips as if you were drunken.
Maybe you were. Drunken on the feel of how tight she throbbed around you. Drunken on the juices that coated your tastebuds. Drunken on the noises she makes for you when you are pounding away at her. A feeling you’ve never have nor will get used to.
Underneath you, Gawtin keened but never took her eyes off of you. They were heavily hooded over, the purple of them made them look black. You gritted your teeth. One of your hands leaves her hip to find the three clits at the apex of her sex. Your thumb finds the biggest of them and starts to rub over him. She responded by arching her back off of the bed and gripped the sheets.
“Good, good girl. I love my good girl,” you growled and made your thrusts even harder, trying to get as deep as possible in her. Dull nails dug into her hip, using it as an anchor point for yourself. “Shit, baby. You… I’m going to fill you. Okay? You want that?”
The warmth in the pit of your stomach was growing more and more. It drove you wild. Any cognitive thought was thrown out of the window. You leaned down further, curling your spine.
Gawtin rapidly nodded her head, eyes finding yours in the heat of the moment. “Good.” Your thumb pressed down hard and alit a sharp cry from the beautiful woman. Her walls clamped down hard around your throbbing length moving in and out of her. You gasped sharply, eyes flying open. Both hands were on her hips now as you shoved yourself as deep as possible.
The band in you snapped. Spurt after spurt of thick cum painting her insides. You growled, hips jerking after each new pulse of her muscles. “Mine. My woman. My mate.” You filled her as humanly possible, marking her all over again, hoping for the seed to take this time. Just the thought of her pregnant again had you shuddering in.
You unstick your nails from her hips and placed them on either side of her. Gawtin’s eyes gazed at you softly from underneath her hooded eyelids. You couldn’t help the smile that followed afterwards. “I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: I love you, Gawtin. So much.”
She growled deep from her chest. In a flash, the two of switch positions, faster than you could’ve realized. You yelped and stared wide-eyed up at her, jaw slightly slackened. When you attempted to squirm from underneath her, she placed a massive palm on your chest. Only a fraction of her weight was needed to keep you in place. Your cock had slipped out of her, coated in both of your combined essences.
Then, the giant leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. That same place where she marked you all those years ago.
“And I will always give you my heart, bare my soul, and protect you with everything I have, little one.” Despite your softening cock, blood swarmed south in your body all over again. There was something about her that drove you absolutely wild.
You grinned up at her. “Then, let’s make sure my seed takes, love.” Her gaze darkened all over again. She grasped your hardening cock and lined it up. Without breaking eye contact, the moss green Yautja sunk all the way down to the hilt.
Human or not, you gave it your all to fulfill both of your wishes.
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yujinslovr · 1 year ago
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Idk if you write multiple idols x reader but if you do… I really liked that Gp Jennie non con one shot and I was wondering if you could write something like the reader attempting to get away from Jennie and runs into the other girls and she thinks they’re going to help her but they’re actually just like Jennie
a/n: not proofread at all so pls ignore all the mistakes!!! also 2k wrds😨😨😨
CW: gp!lisa, gp!jennie, noncon, dubcon, creampie, degrading, exhibitionism, humiliation, oral (lmk if theres anything else)
the whole month after what jennie had done to you was spent with you locked up in her house. locked up in her house and forced to obey her and do whatever she asked of you. after the initial shock, you learned that it was just easier to give into her, give her what she wants. no matter how much you resisted, she’d take what she wanted anyways. she didn't care for you, that's what you’d learned from the month spent with jennie. you were nothing more than a toy for her to dump her cum into in jennie's eyes. 
over the month you spent in captivity, you started to comply with what she was doing. It was incredibly humiliating and irritating to hear her degrading words of ‘i knew you wouldn't be able to resist for long.’ or ‘sluts like you were made to be used, finally you're realizing it.’ you wanted so badly to punch her in the face when you heard this. It was so humiliating. alas, you had to put up with it if you wanted your plan to work. 
the plan that you had devised was an escape plan, you were going to slowly gain her trust. enough so that she’d unlock the door of the room she had you stay in. the room was sound proof and void of any windows. you had no way of telling how much time had passed with you locked in that room. frankly it scared you. when you finally started complying, she had allowed you to know the date and that was how you now knew that a month had passed. 
you needed to leave this place, you needed to somehow get out of the kim mansion. jennie brought you here, instead of keeping you at your apartment. you had been to the kim mansion before, but it had been too big for you to navigate through without jennie. you were now allowed out of your room, but you for some reason couldn't find the front door, all the doors you opened just led you to another bedroom. you decided to map out the mansion, you would walk around the mansion daily just looking around. 
you continuously did this daily till you reached what you knew was the front door. this was the door you entered through the first time jennie showed you her family home. jennie had told you before that she had eyes everywhere, but you just assumed she was talking about her workers. for some weird reason, the thought of cameras never crossed your mind. 
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you were standing in the kitchen, clad in nothing but your undergarments. jennie had not allowed you to even wear clothes initially, saying that there was no use since she'd take it off anyways. after a lot of begging, she allowed you to wear your undergarments, but even your panties were open crotch. it was honestly so humiliating to you, the workers in the house were constantly staring and talking about you. It made you want to stay in that small dark room forever, but you needed to do this. for your freedom.
you stood at the island of the kitchen, bringing the sandwich you had made up to your mouth for a bite when your upper body was suddenly pushed down against the island. after bending you over, jennie wasted no time in getting you ready, immediately stuffing you full of her. you couldn't help the hiss that left your mouth at the feeling of her entering you without prepping you first. It burned, but you had gotten used to it, she wouldn't even wait for you to get wet, she didn't care that it hurt you. she only cared for her own pleasure. she didn't give you any time to adjust to her, immediately starting to thrust into you at a fast pace. 
you wanted to cry at how humiliating this was, one of the maids was right there. staring straight at you, disgust in her eyes, disgusted at how much of a whore you were. “j-jennie, th-there’s people h-here.” you stuttered out in a small voice, lowering your head to the counter so you wouldn't have to see the multiple people watching. 
“I know, i told them to watch.” jennie said with a chuckle. 
she grabbed a handful of your hair and forced your head up, the way she held your head up was so incredibly uncomfortable. she forced you to stare at the people who watched her violate you. tears formed in the corners of your eyes, the humiliating feeling eating you up. 
“fuck baby, you feel so fucking good. no matter how many times i fuck this slutty little hole of yours you still stay so tight.” jennie groaned out, tightening her grip in your hair and smacking your ass. 
her dirty words brought the tears out, you were so embarrassed, she was saying this in front of so many people. you had never felt more violated. after getting herself off, jennie walked off, not bothering to get you off, nor to clean you up. she just left you there, bent over the island, her cum flowing out you and down your legs. 
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right now, this chance would never arrive again. this was your only chance to escape. jennie was out of the city for two weeks for her business, giving you a week to rest and a week to think of an escape. you had searched all the rooms and the most you found was a long shirt, which you deemed enough of a covering. 
you held onto the shirt and once you reached the front door you put it on. maybe if you weren’t overcome with excitement for finally escaping, you would’ve questioned why the front door was void of security. but the adrenaline rushing through you didn't allow you time to question anything. Instead you pushed open the door and ran as fast as your legs allowed you. 
you ran and ran, until you bumped into someone, falling to the ground after crashing into their chest. “hey, are you okay?” the slightly deep yet feminine voice filling your ears, 
you quickly stood up and pulled your shirt down, careful not to show anything. “can you please help me? i-i-i got kidnapped and raped. please help me!” you slightly exclaimed in between pants, the running barefoot finally catching up with you. 
the taller girl in front of you put her hands on your shoulders making you flinch a bit “calm down, why don't you come over to my place? you can explain it all over there.” you slightly nodded, calming down a bit. 
this girl looked oddly familiar, your gut told you to run. she seemed nice, but something about her screamed danger. maybe it was dumb to follow a stranger to their home, but when put in this kind of situation, there was nothing more you could do. you thought about running away from her, but one pull from her would send you flying back. she was taller and visibly stronger, you just hoped to be wrong about this one thing. 
with every step you took towards her apartment, the swirling feeling in your stomach intensified. you wanted to throw up, something about this girl just didn't seem right. there was a sinister aura radiating off of her, you could feel it in your bones. you were walking right back into a trap. you couldn't take it anymore, the feeling that she could easily be a serial killer. something about her was just off, and she looked so familiar. 
that's when it hit you. 
you were fucked. 
you had met her before, she was jennie's best friend (other than you). you met her at one of jennie’s business dinners. lalisa manoban, jennie's childhood best friend and business partner, you were so screwed. you were walking behind her, so instead of following, you spinned on the heel of your foot and ran. you ran as fast as you could, the fear of your life powering the adrenaline rushing through your body. 
lisa turned right in time to take one leap and grab onto your hand. she pulled you back towards her, your back hitting against her chest, “where d’ you think you're going?” lisa breathed into your ear, tightening her grip on your wrist. 
she held you against her front, your hand twisted behind your back. “c’mon, we can settle this at my home. unless you’d wanna do it here?” she asked, though there wasn’t an answer expected. 
you didn't have to answer, she knew what it'd be anyways. she kept her grip on your hand and walked you to her house. 
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“you’ll never guess what i found!” lisa called into her house. 
the sound of footsteps filled your ears and you froze, you could recognize those footsteps anywhere. the footsteps that haunted your dreams for these past months, the footsteps of the person you’d thought you’d escaped from. 
jennie slowly emerged from the dark hallway, “you really thought you could escape?” she let out a laugh at the thought.
“you should know better than to think that, i told you didnt i? I have eyes everywhere.”
you’ve never felt more helpless, there was nothing you could do and you knew it. so you just gave in, you let yourself be used by the two women, you knew there would be no point in fighting it. 
“fuck, no wonder you wanna keep her, such a tight fucking pussy.” lisa groaned out, your hands behind your back where lisa was keeping them hostage. 
“i r-really do owe you for bringing her back, her holes are now open to you whenever you want.” jennie grunted out thrusting into your mouth while lisa fucked your cunt. 
all you could do was moan around jennie’s cock that was hitting the back of your throat. resisting them wouldn't do anything but ruin the experience for you, so you finally gave in, becoming jennie’s slut. 
they were so rough with you, calling all that they were doing a punishment for trying to leave. the way lisa pounded so deep into you, was evoking emotions you didn't even know you had. lisa’s in your cunt and jennie down your throat? a lethal combination. 
the sounds of wet slapping filled the room and you could feel yourself gushing at the lewd sound alone. you were too busy trying to resist or drowning in self pity all the other times, not realizing how much pleasure it could bring if you just relaxed and enjoyed. 
“what a fucking whore, enjoying your punishment.” jennie chuckled out, feeling the vibrations of your moans. 
It didn't take long for you to cum, being overwhelmed with all that was going on. this was the first time you actually enjoyed the sex you were having. you let out a loud moan as you came, one that not even jennie’s cock was able to muffle. when the blissful feeling of your orgasm washed away, jennie and lisa not stopping with the thrusts, the pain settled in. you shook your head no as tears cascaded down your face, you couldn't take anymore. 
the overstimulation was too much for you and you didn't think you could take it. you desperately tried to break free of them but again, you were not even close to them in terms of strength. “aww, is it too much?” jennie pouted, in faux sympathy. the thrusts on both your mouth and cunt not stopping. 
you pitifully nodded your head, hoping for mercy you knew you wouldn't get. the both of them only sped up their movements, seeing your response. you felt the familiar coil in your lower stomach, being forced into a second orgasm. along with you, you could feel the stutters in both lisa and jennie’s hips, not being given a warning other than that. you felt both your mouth and cunt being flooded with warm sticky semen. the white liquid leaked from your mouth as jennie pulled out. the same for your pussy, lisa’s semen hot and leaking out of you. 
there was no point in trying to escape, she would always catch you. 
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shhtickerbook · 2 months ago
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Baby Feathers
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Merry Christmas!
(Helluva Age regression ficlet that takes place post sinsmas)
I don’t see enough fics that have caregivers who want to try regressing!!! So I decided to fill that void and the soul destroying events of sinsmas gave me lots of agere fodder. have a lovely holiday everybody!!! Fic below!
Stolas had everything planned. It was new years Eve and both Stolas and Blitzø had the holiday just to themselves. Millie and Moxxie were spending the holiday with Millie’s family in Wrath, whilst Loona was going to another party at Beelzebub’s. Stolas had spent many a New Year’s Eve at insufferable galas, but there had always been one silver lining. Both himself and Via would slip away from the ball, where the two would sit on the roof of their mansion and watch the first new year’s moon come to rise. He still hadn’t realised that this would be the first year where they wouldn’t be able to share their tradition. He couldn’t stop thinking of Octavia, their last interaction cruelly playing on loop in his mind. His heart was breaking with every second, but at least he had Blitzø. If he hadn’t been grieving so painfully, maybe he’d be able to enjoy himself.
There was one aspect he found great comfort in though, and that was being able to take care of Blitzø. Over the past few months he’d been introduced to the Imp’s smaller side, which had taken a while for Blitzø to open up about it properly. He was a pretty headstrong character, and struggled s lot when it came to expressing any kind of vulnerability.
Stolas had actually found out by accident, with Blitzø regressing involuntarily after a bad night terror. Stolas’s heart had broke when he found his partner looking so afraid and vulnerable. Blitzø wasn’t able to really explain what was happening, but Stolas was already a parent, it was second nature to know how to comfort little ones after a bad dream. The next morning Blitzø had explained what happened, sometimes he found himself slipping younger in age, usually when he was stressed or was reminded of bad things. Especially since he lost his mother, she was the only person who treat him with gentle nurturing care. When he lost her, he never got to feel that again. So when he began to have these episodes, it became a part of himself he had to hide out of shame.
For a long time he continued to suppress this side of himself, pushing away all these childish longings. But he could only hold it back for so long until his body decided for him. When he did find out, Stolas was almost too supportive of it, finding this side of Blitzø absolutely darling. Lavishing him with toys, clothes and all kinds of things he never even considered trying. Stolas even found himself getting a lot out of caring for him too, it made him feel needed.
-
Blitzø had to admit that it felt great to not hide this side of him anymore. Stolas had officially seen every episode of that pony show, and helped Blitzø brush the manes of every single horse figurine he owned. But ever since the trial, neither Blitzø or Stolas had the time or the mental energy to take come time to relax.
Stolas had felt so guilty that in his current state he hadn’t been able to care for Blitzø, and had even collected a set of gifts for him to open from Sinsmas. On the day itself he’d set aside his little gifts so that he wouldn’t have to open them in front of the others. So he’d made the decision to surprise him with a “little sinsmas” on new years, when they knew they’d have the house all to themselves.
Stolas woke up early to get out the gifts he had stored away. Thankfully he had purchased these before he’d lost all of his money and possessions. But when he did get up, he felt awful. The former prince had slept terribly, tossing and turning as he once again replayed what had happened with Via. He was then cursed with unpleasant dreams that only tortured him further. All he wanted was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him.
Regardless of how he felt, he pushed himself through it, today was for Blitzø. The imp had done so much for him recently, he had to pay it back somehow. He quietly looked through Blitzø’s wardrobe in search of some of his little clothes, choosing an oversized hoodie with some colourful horse motifs. It even had an adorable woollen mane that went down the hood. Last of all he collected a plastic box at the bottom of the wardrobe, stolas recognising it. Inside Blitzø kept all of his baby things, pacifiers, some teethers and other equally adorable equipment. It was adorned with multiple stickers, all in the horse variety.
As he entered back into the main room, stolas began to gather some ingredients for breakfast. The plan was to make Blitzø some oatmeal for breakfast, which was simple enough. Blitzø always liked it drizzled with cherry syrup, and if he was feeling little enough he’d even let Stolas feed him.
Stolas carefully arranged the gifts wrapped in coloured paper by the tree, flicking on the fairy lights for added effect. He loved the small touches of sinsmas, indulging in the little details that made it feel magic. Blitzø had mentioned how sinsmas wasn’t really a special thing when he was a kid, the circus would perform through the whole holiday. Which included an extra special sinsmas day show which was very popular, but it meant he never got to really enjoy the holiday.
He thought of a little blitz crouched by the tree, tearing open coloured parcels in glee. You couldn’t help but smile. As a final touch, he pulled the blinds open to let the light in. Such a simple action turned into a huge mistake. As Stolas glanced outside, his gaze was caught to the horizon. Peeking just through the clouds was the new moon, only barely visible. By tonight it would be hanging at the peak of the sky, even in daylight it was beautiful.
How could something so beautiful destroy him so painfully? Stolas remembered everything, his special tradition with his daughter. He thought of Octavia, sitting alone and watching the moon rise. The way she spat her words towards her father, looking like she genuinely despised him. Who was he kidding? It didn’t look like he hated him, she did hate him. Stolas just sank to the floor, his beak quivering as he felt tears building in his eyes. It was all too much. All he wanted was to hold his daughter in his arms again, but would that ever happen again?
she hated him.
she HATED him.
-
Blitzø turned over in bed, dozily reaching over into the empty space of his bed. He’d gotten so used to sleeping next to somebody again, so when he didn’t feel any feathers in his grasp, it pulled him out from his snoozing.
“Mmme- Stolas?”
He mumbled, eyes fluttering open. As suspected, Stolas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Pushing himself up onto his elbow before rubbing his eyes, recently Stolas had been the one who stayed in bed. Blitzø would usually let him sleep in for as long as he needed, sometimes leaving a note if he had to leave for work.
With a yawn Blitzø pulled himself up, before hearing something from outside the room. It took him a second to realise in his sleep addled state, but he could clearly hear a sadly familiar sound of crying. Within a second he’d jumped from the bed and thrown open the door.
“Stolas? are you okay?”
In hindsight it was a pretty stupid question, especially when he found said bird on the floor of his sitting room. He was curled in on himself, sobbing bitterly. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of what he’d been like when Octavia had rejected him.
“Hey hey- what’s going on?”
Blitzø joined him on the floor, resting a hand over Stolas’s shaking back. Stolas flinched at the touch at first, but couldn’t help but fall into Blitzø’s hold. Blitzø could feel Stolas’s feathers quivering as he tried to control his sobbing. The Imp couldn’t help but notice that a lot of his little stuff was scattered across the room.
His box of pacifiers and that one hoodie he liked to wear, there were also some new gifts under the tree.
“I had planned to- I’m sorry, i just wanted to make today special for you.”
Stolas whimpered, feeling like he’d ruined everything. He thought he would feel better today, if he got to care for Blitzø. But right now owl felt as fragile as glass, but Blitzø held onto him tight and securely. It clicked as he realised what Stolas had been trying to do, his expression softening.
“Oh stolas, it’s okay.”
“It’s not! All I’ve done is mope around and you’ve had to do everything for me. Not to mention the money you’ve spent and the time I’ve taken up. I had it all planned, you deserved a break-“
It took him a little time to string together his response, tears continuing to dribble down his feathers. He felt pathetic, how was he going to care for a regressed Blitzø when he was this much of a mess? It furthered his suspicion that was just a complete failure when it came to any kind of caregiving.
“Stolas listen to me, it’s okay. It’s.. really sweet you thought of this.”
Blitzø gently tilted his beak to meet his face, the tearstained bird’s expression tugging something on his heartstrings. He looked around, spotting the half made breakfast and carefully arranged presents. All the effort he’d made, for him no less.
“I don’t deserve you.”
He chuckled, managing to pull the lanky heap of owl closer into his lap the best he could. His statement seemed to reactivate Stolas tears though, who cried intelligibly into his chest. It was the other way around, it was Stolas that didn’t deserve him.
Whilst Blitzø still wasn’t entirely sure on what had triggered this, it didn’t take an idiot to know it was related to Octavia. In the time Blitzø had known Stolas, he’d never seen him like this. The Goetian Prince was so broken, fragile. But thankfully Blitzø had some experience in that feeling already.
He let him cry it out for a few minutes, with the shoulder of his shirt becoming very wet. He ran his fingers up and down Stolas’s feathers, gently preening him as he murmured comfort. The sobs eventually died down into sad sniffling, but the grip around him still hadn’t broken. Although Stolas’s heart was breaking, Blitzø’s grip around him was at least keeping said shards in place.
As Blitzø rubbed his back, he was hit with a sudden idea. He felt a little guilty that Stolas had gone through all this trouble for him, especially as he wasn’t feeling anywhere near small. And as much as he cared for Stolas, he couldn’t fake his regression either. Anyways, he didn’t feel like he was the one need in comfort right now.
“Hey, here’s an idea. I know we’ve never talked about this before, but what if you let me take care of you today?”
Stolas stirred a little with a frown, peeling his crispy feathered face away from Blitzø’s chest.
“What do you mean?”
“You take care of me when I’m feeling low, why not let me baby you for once? You’re lookin’ like you need it.”
The more Blitzø thought about it, the more he wanted to give it a try. There was something about the forlorn bird in his arms that melted his heart a little. Was this how Stolas felt with him? Nah, he couldn’t he this cute.
“No, you’re my baby. I care for you, I care for people- it’s what I like to do.”
Stolas suddenly felt flustered, face lighting up bright red. He’d never even considered the idea of swapping roles before. Blitzø was his baby, never the other way around. He wasn’t sure if it felt right to him, he wanted to be the one caring for Blitzø.
“Yeah, and you do a great fuckin job at it. So why not let me return the favour, you might even like it?”
Blitzø teased as he gently pinched the owls red cheeks, already delighting in the idea. Stolas found himself wavering a little, especially with how shivery and weak he was. He looked over at the gifts guiltily, but Blitzø already had it covered.
“Look we could try it today, if you don’t like it, we’ll stop. We can save the gifts for tomorrow, and then you can have your turn babying me, sound okay?”
Blitzø sounded so sure that Stolas found it hard to disagree. Although it still felt very alien, he definitely appreciated this cuddling part right now. So in the end gave a defeated shrug, Blitzø’s face lighting up.
“You just relax and let me take care of everything, feathers.”
Stolas shook for a second, before burying his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder again. Fresh tears erupted seemingly for no specific reason. But this time there was a sense of catharsis that came with it, to be able to cry in safety. Was this how Blitzø felt when Stolas would comfort him whilst small? He hoped so, as it felt pretty damn good.
Blitzø began to rock him back and forth, kissing the crown of his feathers. He gave him a few more minutes to cry, Stolas had been forcing himself into long periods of numbness recently and clearly needed it. Eventually Blitzø shifted Stolas to the side a little, who whined at the movement.
“Lemme just move ya onto the couch, I can’t feel my fuckin’ legs anymore.”
With quite a bit of effort, Blitzø managed to lift the bird onto the couch. Unfolding the blanket over the armrest and tucking it around his skinny frame. Whilst no longer sobbing, Stolas had been reduced to the awkward hiccupy stage. Blitzø told ahold of his hand, squeezing softly to get his attention.
“Hey try and breathe a little, in and out.”
The imp demonstrated, and Stolas tried his hardest to follow. But he found himself falling back into the unhelpful gulping, even with Blitzø’s help.
“Here’s an idea.”
Blitzø turned and rifled through his little box, finding an unopened package. Blitzø himself still hadn’t used these ones as he didn’t like the colours. Stolas turned to see what Blitzø was doing, with his pupils pin-pricking when he spotted it. In his hands was a package of pacifiers, a pack of three different shades of lilac to dark blue.
“You’re doing a shitty job at breathing right now, try one of these. You’ll have no choice but to breathe a little slower.”
He spoke so casually, holding out a dark blue pacifier. Stolas had seen this kind of item many, many times now. But now when it was being presented to him, rather from him? It felt a little scary. Blitzø watched as stolas internally fought with himself, rolling his eyes.
“Cmon, open that beak for me, feathers.”
He used the pet name for the second time, which made Stolas melt a little. As if beyond his control he held his beak open, Blitzø placing the pacifier there before he could change his mind.
The sensation was certainly strange at first, the bird wasn’t really sure what to do with it. But his body was still hellbent on breathing hard, so he focused on trying to breathe nasally instead. Without realising he began to suck on the bulb, and breathed in and out. If it hadn’t been such sad circumstances, Blitzø would’ve definitely taken a photo. It was just too fucking cute. Instead he joined Stolas on the couch, still demonstrating his breathing in time to Stolas’s.
“Feels good doesn’t it?”
Stolas looked up at him lazily, his was face a little red self consciously. But he couldn’t lie, the rhythmic sensation of the pacifier was incredibly soothing. With each minute he understood just why Blitzø liked them so much. There was a cloudy fuzzy sensation in his head, one that forced him away from all the sad and scary feelings. It was a blissful escape, but it wasn’t numbing him the way his pills used to.
So he nodded at his partner, squeezing his hand back tight. They spent the next twenty minutes just cuddling, and Stolas honestly felt the calmest he had in months. Blitzø eventually had to pry the owl off of him to sort out breakfast, turned on the TV for Stolas. He considered what to put on, before setting on an incredibly corny fairytale movie about a princess. But it was worth it to see the way Stolas’s eyes lit up when it came on.
Blitzø made himself a cup of coffee, and poured one of Stolas’s weird fancy teas into one of his own sippy cups. Choosing the moonlight unicorn design, after forcing stolas to watch every episode of his horse show, Stolas had eventually chosen his favourite character. When he returned to the couch, Stolas shuffled over to curl into his chest again. The pacifier still hasn’t left his beak since placing it there, he looked undeniably adorable. Blitzø was just so happy to see him looking content for the first time in days. The two could just spend their day with each-other’s company, enjoying every moment.
-
Neither demon even made it to the end of the movie, the two of them passed out in a tangle of limbs. The bird with his head curled underneath Blitzø’s chin, the imp’s hand subconsciously still stroking his feathers. Blitzø had gotten so used to himself being the baby in their relationship, that he’d never considered how much he’d enjoy swapping places. The remainder of their day continued in a similar fashion, Blitzø leading Stolas along in hand. And to his surprise Stolas was a very quiet little, who didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.
It was different than when he was quiet when he was sad though, Stolas would still giggle if Blitzø said something funny and was clearly enjoying himself. Stolas just felt happy that he didn’t have to try and think of words right now, he could just be. He allowed Blitzø to dress him in some loose cuddly clothes, and even hand feed him little squares of pancake when he felt up to eating.
Blitzø loved learning more about this little side of him. And Stolas found himself embracing a part of himself he’d never even uncovered. They spent the day indoors, playing games and watching movies. In the evening when Blitzø was busy running a bath for him, Stolas couldn’t help but glance outside. The moon was beginning to rise in the early evening, himself and Blitzø agreed to head to bed before midnight. The whole new year’s celebration never interested him too much, he really only ever used it as an excuse to get wasted.
Stolas pulled the pacifier from his beak and dropped it to the floor. Feeling the fog of his small space drift away, he took in a deep breath. Slipping outside onto the balcony, he dared himself to look up at the moon. Giving anything just for one more moment with Octavia, wondering what she was doing right now.
“I know you hate me, and that you can’t even hear me- But I love you so very much.”
He spoke to himself quietly, not breaking eye contact with the rising moon. Hoping that just maybe Octavia could somehow get the message. He stayed there for a little while, not even realising the slow tears dripping down his face until he felt a hand on his. Blitzø didn’t say anything, he stood aside the Owl for a while until he stirred from his trance.
“I got your bath ready, even added a bunch of those bath nukes you like.”
“Bath bombs- you mean.”
Stolas couldn’t help but correct, although he still sounded sad. Blitzø held onto his hand and lead him back inside, finding the pacifier abandoned on the floor.
“Hey you still want this buddy?”
He held it up, unsure if Stolas was feeling completely big again. The owl looked at the object, clearly considering it. He watched the Imp as he stared up at him with genuine adoration. Instead of a verbal response, he just took the pacifier back and allowed himself to sink back into that comforting headspace. The Goetian prince stood tall above Blitzø, and to any old person they must’ve looked ridiculous. But Blitzø looked up at the tall owl and only saw a little baby bird, one that was in desperate need of some love and care.
“Cmon then baby feathers, I have a whole collection of rubber duck horses just waiting to play with ya-“
Merry Christmas y’all ❤️❤️❤️
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asliceofzosan · 1 year ago
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because i woke up today still thinking of zosan's baby girl, here are some stuff about it that are now my roman empire:
none. i repeat NONE OF THESE STRAW HATS know how to hold a baby. sanji figured it out due to dormant maternal instincts alone. and more than half the time he has to yell at everyone to not hold her up by the calf or the ankles ("i'm looking at you luffy please for the love of the all blue do NOT gum gum whip her around like a toy—")
unlike both her dads, ayari is actually being extremely picky with food in the beginning. she hates certain textures and cries like its the end of the world when her baby food isn't heated to the right temperature. funnily enough, one of the few times she ate something she didn't want is if chopper is next to her eating the same thing and telling her its yummy. dw none of the baby food goes to waste. they're all re-used somehow in the week's menu. or zoro just ends up eating it.
ussop made a lil wrap around cloth for ayari so that sanji could cook while carrying her hands free. or zoro could have her strapped onto his back and nap while he does pushups.
robin could be seen reading books to ayari when both zoro and sanji are out cold and exhausted from being first time parents. one or both of them would wake up to find robin telling little ayari histories of the islands they visit, or the countries they've saved. she tones down some of the darker elements until she's old enough to grasp it. ayari grows up with auntie robin's love of wanting to know the world.
nami started doing her makeup with ayari on her lap. she shows all the different little products to her, letting her touch her brushes and everything. nami even "does ayari's makeup" too aka she just tickles her face with the brushes and pretends to put makeup on her so she feels like she's doing it too. when she's a little older, ayari asks sanji to join them and more often than not, sanji is making lunch with a full face of makeup done by ayari.
ayari's teething toy is a little plastic mouth sword. zoro is infinitely happy about it.
in the beginning, sanji tried to take up most of the parental responsibilities up until the point that he got too sick to even stand. he was stressed and exhausted beyond belief, actually pushing zoro away a lot. but when he collapses one day sporting a fever that was highly too reminiscent of when nami was sick after little garden, it scares him enough to finally seek zoro out for help.
and its not like zoro has not Tried to take the load off. its just that sanji was still fighting all his repressed feelings for zoro and this undue pressure hes put on himself to become a better parent than judge ever was to him. that he could raise this child with love and attention and devotion, completely forgetting that hes not the only parent.
zoro and sanji have a heartfelt talk about how the wish that was granted on that island was a blessing beyond belief. that theres a reason ayari looks like both of them. that she takes after both of them.
they both wished for this child in the deepest depths of their hearts. they wanted not just to be together but to have someone that grows up loved by them. cared for by them. not a restart or a replacement for a lost loved one like they first thought it was. but a child who sees them — zoro and sanji — and will one day wish to have a love like theirs.
oh also "luffy" is ayari's first word because zoro and sanji say it so often to stop their captain from doing dangerous shit while he's holding her. in line with that, her second word is "stop" so the first sentence she ever says is "luffy stop!"
the crew are hysterical over it. sanji stares into the void bc he wished for ayari's first word to be "dada"
he settles with the little joy of her fourth word being "marimo"
because her third word was "curly" (something he nearly strangled zoro for)
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themareverine · 2 months ago
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Who We Are | dofp!Logan x mutant!fem!OC
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summary: "What am I, Logan?" Swallowing, "What is this?" And she knows what she is, subliminally.
warnings: angst, brief mentions of PTSD, trauma, mutant!fem!OC
a/n: i should be working on Toy Soldiers and my next series chapter. i really should be. but this came to me this week while at my new job, in my new office, and honestly i'm due for my period so i'm deep into feelings. enjoy this if that's possible. based on concepts i have for my Mare & the Wolverine series, e.g., fem!OC acquires Logan's genetics through Weapon X experimentation. i envisioned DOFP Logan for this but have no idea how it would fit into the timeline.
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“Got someone here to see ya, dearie.”
Eyes don’t flick up from the tablet resting face up on the desk, screen illuminated bright with open email and Outlook scheduling only slightly overtaken with Microsoft Teams messaging. A milkwhite pen lazily spins through fingers riddled with turquoise and sterling. Untouched, stale coffee takes up precious desk space in a slightly dented, fading Yeti.
When movement from the doorway doesn’t come, sapphire eyes lift from the wash of blue light. Gaze flicking to the calendar illuminated on the desktop, the office chair rolls lazily away from the desk, toes slipping back into formerly abandoned high heels.
“I don’t have anything scheduled,” elbow finding the chair’s arm, her fingers knead into the flesh along her temple, “you sure they’re here for me?”
“Says he wants to talk to you about some volunteer opportunities,” sleek, silver hair spins around the older woman’s finger, glasses low on her nose only a moment as she lifts a knuckle to lift them, “you want me to chase him off?”
Can’t really argue with work opportunities. “Send him in. Call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.” Tapping her wristwatch, her brow pops, colleague sent away with a uh, huh sure nod following.
Head canting to the side, she pops from her chair. Stretches her neck. Toes curl inside her heels, against worn once-padded soles eaten away under sweat and miles. Pain ricochets off the heaviness of her skeleton, sending hot licks of pain up her spine. Knocks off the base of her neck like a firecracker. Bones in the back of her hand burn, acidic pain stabbing between knuckles not unfamiliar. A glance down at the thin skin at the back of her hand stirs subconscious magma, stoning in a way she can’t quite swallow.
Sahara heat in the heat of her throat empties into the open air of her gut, and she rousts her tongue against her back molars. Hopes it’ll resolve—it doesn’t. Grabs for a drink of lukewarm coffee. Nada. Zilch.
Damn. “You decent, honey?”
A wry twist of her lips. “Sure,” she waves a hand forward. “Send ‘im in, Donna.”
Turning to retrieve that favorite milkwhite pen she’d discarded off to the side of her keyboard, she spins it through her fingers again. Checks emails, eyeballing the front desk associate from a grim, corner-eye peer.
Donna, bless her soul, nods. Leans back out the door, on her broken-ankle-waiting-to-happen heels that are as pink as they are dangerous for a lass her age. Waves the happy little accident forward with a flick of her near-translucent, arthritic fingers. Bangle bracelets tink as she shuffle dances with the stranger past the door.
Eyes turned down to the keyboard, she entirely misses the figure taking up her doorway. An onslaught of cologne hits her nose like a landing strip, an assault that rips open the void of her memories like an untapped dam—her pupils blow wide. Alarm kicks her heart forward against the sledge of her ribs, she swears to God she can feel cardiac tissue bruise. Animalistic fear swipes at her stomach, tearing it open like it’s ribbons of rare prime rib. Acidic contents of her stomach splash up on her tongue, but instinct makes her swallow it back down the hatch, burying the primal instinct to run.
Couldn’t miss that slick, sensual heat barraging into the room like a battering ram for anything. There was only one man in her world she’d known to smoke contraband cigars of such a sickeningly smoky, thick caliber—one man that could leave her so disarmed, distempered. In shambles.
Logan.
Her sapphire eyes flick over to icy, venomous in all of a heartbeat—she can feel them. Tracking him not unlike a predator cornering prey, she pops tall. Chair rolls back all too hard, with purpose. Bounces off the wall.
Rolled away, her tether to anything pumping daylight between them suddenly vamoose.
Fear licks at her spine like it’s a frickin’ lollipop. It isn’t terrorized fear—it’s that special kind of fear, the one that burns. The one that haunts and visits young. Simmers low. Eats away like corrosion—the fear of not what he’s done to her, anatomically. Never. Logan is many things, but not abusive. Not mentioning—these adamantium bones, these that build out her frame, rattle cold even mere inches from the sun? His curse, wrapped up inside her?
She barely remembered fear anymore.
This instead, it’s— a tender fear of what’s been dangled, shattered. Devastated. Buried six feet so far under it’s been feasted on by worms and twisting, cold fingers of the underworld. More pain, more emotional damage. More visceral, brutish damage than what’s already been done.
Knowing he can feel her heartbeat even across the floor space, she wills her heart to slow down—the small corner of it she can control when he’s anywhere in territory. Strange way over her, he has—had always. From the first day meeting him, signing her name on the proverbial dotted line of the pinkslip that is knowing Logan, he’d enraptured her. Captivated her. Took hostage parts of her she didn’t know were up for discussion. Knowing her inside and out wasn’t enough, even if it’s a literal statement—he’d seen her in ways that could make him a priest, counted her sins splayed across the altar of time.
Devil’s advocate, always. He’d promised to never do the very things he’d deny to God.
And it's cardinal sin, the way he looks at her. Mortal how he ravages her without even batting an eye, expressionless and unreadable like dark midnight. Venial—she can feel him even with five feet of daylight and lifetimes between them. All the times he’d touched her, all the sweet everything’s he’s whispered, lapping back through her brainspace like pace cars. Standing in her doorway like an untouchable Goliath. As radiant as the sun always, but dark as the witching hour.
Her skin chills, long nights under stars when they were both younger, stupider not far away memories but recent ones held close. Gooseflesh flecks across her skin, filling pores and chasing up and down her spine like territorial wolves. A knife somewhere in her gut spins a full three-sixty, any second now her entire gut sack would fall open, bloody, to hell between her feet. She couldn't move, though—eyes welded to him like stainless. If she's still enough, maybe she can watch his pores open and close.
Eternities unfold between them, when in reality, maybe thirty seconds has ticked off the clock hanging on the wall of her shiny, new office. Well, new-to-her office. It's hardly such, complete with tattered carpets and holes knocked in the walls from the rough and tumble of shifting furniture. Paint no younger than it's very 2006 aesthetic, there's the smallest hint of antiseptic in the air, a slight draft from the window's ancient weatherproofing. By normal straits, it's barely anything to be proud of—but it's hers. All hers, and nobody had helped her get it.
Not Charles, not Hank. Not references from the DOD, no apology kiss-assing from the military for what had happened with Cornelius at Alkali. Nada from fancy institutions that the X team had arranged for "one of their own." Her office for her job offered based on her qualifications. Her. No mention of mutations, no favors, nothing.
Eight months of skiptracing far and hard from Westchester, desperate for something, anything that wasn't that. Logan. Pain.
She could be surprised that Logan's found her. But, that would be revealing a whole lot of cards she'd not prepared to show.
Have to pay the ante if you wanna play, Logan.
"'All the places I thought'a lookin' for you, this sure as hell wasn't it, darlin'."
Darlin'. It's her favorite, always had been. He knew it. And if that doesn't hurt something delicious, nothing else in the sparkling universe that is this planet would.
Logan is nothing, if not prepared. Straight for the low blows. What a bastard. The little tip of his lips, the quicksilver gleam that flashes through his eyes. All little signs she knows are designed to chisel hard, deep through her bedrock. It's worked, before. Dozens of times that, really, are uncountable. He shifts a little, arms crossed over the leathers of a new-but-not jacket. Sunglasses slung through the collar of a not-new t-shirt. Jeans, scuffed boots. Even from here the bite of bike exhaust is unmissable, nips at her libido like it always had—because Logan has never been sexier than slung low on his chopper, sunglasses on and tufted hair messed from the wind. Free and careless, wild. As God intended.
And it could be funny—Logan, finding her here, two thousand miles from Westchester. On his motorcycle. Looking dangerous and delicious, traversing the country on some hunch about a wild hair up his ass.
Some things, honestly, don't evolve.
Naked and vulnerable as his eyes cut through her like cold adamantium, she swallows the desert blossom her tongue has become. Thigh knocking into the corner of her desk hard enough for a bruise to chance formation on ever-healing skin, she gnaws at the inside of her cheek. Handfuls of seconds fall through her fingers, until she cuts her eyes away, to the heels of her stilettos.
"No," her eyes snap back to him, brow furrowed in barely sentineled rage, "no, Logan. We're not doing this."
His brow pops, animatedly. Like a curious dog. "No?" Pushing off his stance against the wall, his booted foot connects with the floor a little harder than his usual. "What aren't we doin'?"
Any tighter and she'd taste the marrow of her jawbone. "You heard me. I've decided we aren't doing this—now, or ever. Get the hell out of my office, out of my life, and get back on your motorcycle and go back to New York." Finger cutting through the air, her glare is serpentine.
Cold, lacerating. Hopefully to his core, to the very steel that clings to his skeletal system like plague.
"Run back to Jean, Logan—we both know that's where you think you belong." And God, even her name tastes like wicked poison. Like some type of adder, it's pocketed in low places—released only when the fangs pop.
Could serpents suicide from their own venom?
Wouldn't matter, not with him running through my genetics like wildfire. Never say die, has a whole new meaning, huh, Logan? Turning away from him, she gags on her own hatred. The cold splashing up the back of her throat.
He crosses to her in three, big strides. Grabs her arm and whirls her around all-soldier, aggressively. His eyes are hot, wild, as they scan hers—looking for caveats, avenues to invade. White-hot, his grip tightens deliberately, knowing it can't hurt. Won't. Keeping her upright on three-inch stilettos is not his primary goal, but it's working overtime hours.
"Listen."
Her eyes cut to his, cold. Hopes it empties him of any and all courage he thinks he's got.
"I've listened enough." A growl, low between her ribs.
From the wellspring of years—years. Scouting in and out of the affections of a man she'd idolized since a night in that musty Canadian bar, lingering in the sweat and smoke, illegal betting. Still, she can recall how he'd folded her into her Jeep, introducing himself. Willing her to leave, allowing her to stay.
"'Wolverine.' Catchy stage name, hon. That what God calls you, too?"
"Logan, but, you call me what you want, bub."
She'd never stopped calling him anything. Never had dreamed she'd ever stop. If it were up to her, she'd carve out her own heart and give it to him, beating and bloody, for all of time. What's up to her is limited, however—wildcards in a game of chance.
Every dreamer eventually rejoins the living.
If it hurts him, she'll never know. His brow wrinkles, pulled downward into a hard frown that narrows his eyes and casts deep lines across his features. Canyons. Darkness flints through the light in the eyes, for only a moment, before he slightly shakes his head. Confused or irritated, well—it's Logan. Either is more than possible on any given day.
Pulling against his hold, she swipes at his hand. "Let go of me."
He winces, nails catching against hard muscle. His growl hitches in his chest, knocks against his back teeth not unlike a cat. "Quit. Don't be a brat," he hisses, nails biting into her skin. "Just think for a minute, huh? I come all this way, look all over the fuckin' country for you, and you think I'm hung up on Jean?"
Listening would allow him privileges Logan didn't deserve, but she can't not hear him. Instead, she wrenches her arm. Claws at his arm again, this time with more nail than probably necessary. An animalistic, vicious growl gurgles up from her chest. Snakes past her teeth. Hisses between them, venomous and cruel.
It's designed to cut him. Fatally. "You manipulative sonuvabitch—"
"Baby. Listen t'me—"
And before she can think, before she can reason—Snikt!
Out come the claws. Her claws. His mutation, wrapped up in her genetics. Pure accident, until it wasn't—until so much of him required so much of her. It's unfair.
White-hot pain rips through her like five thousand volts, jumpstarting her heart like a grenade. For a heartbeat she fears her cardiac muscle will explode, but it's misguided—regeneration means she'd just grow a new one. Another he could destroy all over again, and again, and again.
"I said let go, Logan!"
A wide arch of her hand between them catches the air, moving it enough that Logan ducks back with the practiced ease of a light-footed soldier. Hand breaking away, she stumbles back on wobbling heels like a foal. Away from him, creating space. Daylight. Air she tries to drag into her lung tissue.
Unable to breathe, to think, she drowns on room air instead.
Droplets of blood from knuckle lacerations land at her feet, hot pain alive and stinging like flame between her knuckles. He may as well have driven a hot blade between the bones in her hand, burning heat cutting up her arm like it's a fat bass awaiting fillet.
And she can feel the bone and tissues moving in her arm, how her ligaments stretch as adamantium blades rearrange her insides, push aside her bones and ligaments and tendons. Making room for itself, throwing aside anatomical musts for what she is. It's otherworldly, feeling components of yourself move and shake when for the entirety of your life, it comes as naturally as breathing.
Eyes flick down her arm, expecting to see her anatomy ripped open to the air. Anticipating something, anything to show that everything hurts. There's nothing, to the naked eye. Simple flesh. Nothing.
It's all in your head. Was it?
Her guts churn like a roiling pot, stirring deep and hot. She can taste her own blood, spit. Vomit somewhere, milked from her oral tissue. A zing of coppery blood on her tongue makes her think she's bitten the muscle. A clench of her abdominal muscle, and she's certain she'll throw up.
Before she can, Logan is to her in three big, heavy strides. Hard fingers latch onto her wrist, pulling her to a hard stop. Not looking away from the stains of blood on adamantium for a heartbeat, his eyes flick over to hers. Hold them, tightly, like a vice. His brow mottles with effort, deep lines as he struggles to hold her arm steady.
Panting heavily, sweat bubbles up from every one of her pores—she can't suck enough air into her chest.
She can feel color exit her body. Pulse bounding, her muscles begin to spasm. Psychologically unable to process the level of hurt racing through her arms, the room spins. Vision blurs behind a fresh veil of tears, nails bite into her palm. If her knuckles were any whiter, bone would kiss air.
The urge to vomit overwhelms. Wrenching her arm from him, she breaks away to empty her guts into the trash under her desk. Adamantium catches the endge of her desk, and makes short work, cutting deep grooves into the oak. Knees buckle. Ankles wobble in her stilettos like a newborn foal. The lick of humiliation is like a whip, a cruel taskmaster.
Names cut through her brain with surgical precision, whispers of memories matching with whatever idea of faces her subconsious can muster. Cornelius. Stryker. Alkali.
Filmreels. They pass through the back her brain, black and white. Color. Muted but screaming loudly through her nervous system like a white noise—
Cold, sterile antiseptic that she can taste bubbling around her like hellish brew. Chemicals that lap at the moisture from her eyes. An army of needles and drivers pump poison deep between her bones, filling her marrow with nanoparticles designed to protect, but harm instead, laughing at her agony. They march through her like they have orders—and in a sense, they do, to become a part of her. Divide and conquer, controlling interest.
Pain is relentless, unforgiving. Hollow like an abyss, ever echoing without give. Prejudice and without conviction, it chips away. Viscerally. Starving for her soul. Lusting after her flesh.
"And to think you volunteered— for what? For the life of a man who doesn't even love you? Pitiful fool."
Foolish, indeed. There is so much pain.
Claws retract. Slipping back into her flesh, she can feel the muscle contortion in her arm, deep into her skeletal frame. Past her muscles, tissues, blood. No sooner do they vanish than her flesh stitches back together where they'd been born, a quiet squelch of skin sealing in on itself. Rips through her ears like a nuclear blast.
Suddenly it's all she can feel, taste. See and smell, her own blood.
Stomach looping in on itself, she grabs her arm with otherworldly, white-knuckle strength. Unable to realize that deep tremors have set into her anatomical frame, her fingers are little more than blurring, trembling little digits. Clutching her hand to her chest, the world may as well threaten to rip it from her and bludgeon her to death.
In a way, it already had.
The limb is stained with smeared, speckled blood. It'll take hours for the firmament of pain to fully dissipate in her body, for the power high to evaporate. Faintly she remembers the first time this had happened, though it feels like eternities ago. Hell and back, really. Sticky saliva bubbles through the seem of her lips as she bats away the recollections, trying to ground in the now. Heaves a breath—finally, able to breathe.
Eyelids heavy and vision dancing with black spots, she stares at the floor. Pebbles of blood and foamy, thick spit lay at her feet like lovers, in concentrated worship.
And all at once she feels like throwing up again, struggles with the urge. The sensation drops, ringing against hollow air in her gut. Tremors bite at her nerves, muscles. Continue to rip her apart, stitching her back together as she lifts her head, which may as well have taken the strength of an industrial crane. If it hadn't, she'd never know the difference.
Disheveled, stringy hair clings to the sweat on her face, gaze narrowly tracking Logan. He'd seen everything. All her ugliness, all of what she is. Again.
"Get out," it grates, claws at the membrane of her throat. Acidic bile mingles with her back teeth, her molars grind together from the ratcheted weight of her jaw. "Leave me here, Logan," but all the same, unsaid words skip in and out of everything she doesn't mean, everything she says anyway. Between lines and in margins.
Don't leave me, Lo. See me. Help me.
"Please."
Stay.
Wishing her sniffle wasn't the snot-rolling gurgle it is, her head drops. Lolls to the side. She slips from her knees, aching with pain, to her side. Hiccupping ungracefully as she draws the hand clutching her arm against the apex of her heart, beneath her breast, mostly unable to feel it. Halfway to check if she's still got one, mostly to withdraw. Like a caged creature.
Because that's what she is, these days—a beast.
Sapphire eyes flutter closed. Parted lips suck oxygen rich air into her lungs. Flames in her core begin to extinguish, the ball of energy in her chest settling into a familiar ache that gallops against bone.
Starting to fall into the cool darkness—welcomes the thought of oblivion.
Two hands on either shoulder shake her firmly, once. Heat smacks her in the face, overpowers the air around her senses with that smoky, thick scent of exhaust and cigars. Immediately she knows, her anatomy reacts in ways that should be wrong—her ovaries leapfrog. The cradle of her womb burns. Fingers sting with fire, her heart racehorsing behind ribs that seem to flare with heavy deep breath.
"Stay awake for me, darlin'," thick thumbs knead into the tension that needles deep in her shoulders, milking away tension. Eyes flutter open.
Logan.
"You're okay. Stand for me?"
Buzzing with the highs of adrenaline, her head lolls a little as she shakes it, Logan brushing aside the veil of hair sticking to her face with empathetic fingers. She shakes her head, no. Can't feel her legs, can't think about anything but the weightlessness that calls to her from the pull of unconscious bliss.
If she were able to die, now would be perfect. Just an idea, God, it would be funny if it weren't honest.
But then she's airborne, weightlessness achieved as Logan hauls her up into his arms as if she weighs nothing, which isn't truth. Head falling against his chest, her grip on her arm tightens to bruising. Glancing at her fingers, she realizes tremors haven't fully subsided—Logan adjusts her weight but doesn't protest as she sinks against him, teary again.
Moving to her chair, he kicks it around to face him with his foot. Angles his head gently to rest his cheek along the top of her head, a rare and raw show of affectionate. Something akin to a hum rumbles around his breastbone, she feels it—can't place if it's a soothing hmm or a shhh at her sniveling, doesn't care. Not right now.
He sets her up in the chair, probably with more care than Logan's ever shown.
Calloused fingers brush hair behind her ear, catching across her skin softly. Vision leveling, she lifts her head from the back of the chair. Eyes cast over to him, and it feels like it takes a thousand years. She may as well weigh the volume of the sun; everything feels slow and heavy.
"Thought you were leaving," she manages, the thick gravel in her voice all but bleeding and raw. "Need'ta be alone."
Popping a squat in front of the chair, he steadies it with a firm hand. The other brushes fingertips along the apple of her cheek.
"You think a 'lotta things, honey—and the last thing you need is to be by yourself." Right now, you need me.
It's there, in between every word and shift of his eyes finding hers. Trust me, I know. I know this pain, I carry it close. As close as you, always as close as you.
And he does.
Silence cuts between them like wolves, eating away at daylight and heartbeats. Charged energy snaps like a live wire. Attention falling from his face, her eyes float across his chest, frame.
She didn't see blood, but that didn't mean there wasn't any, even scant traces.
"Did I hurt you?" Oh, God.
Impossible, scientifically—and a part of her knows that. But it doesn't stop her from asking. Habits die hard, despite how many times you crucify them. He shakes his head, slowly. No.
She swallows the thick saliva that's risen in her mouth, flushing out the sours of vomit and adrenaline. "I—I don't know what happened—" more tears, hot and fast, surface. It hurts.
Everything hurts. Parts of her she didn't even realize burned. Deep aches, a thousand needles ravage her body like demons. Someone had taken apart her insides and thrown them back together in a hot ball of wax, anatomy rushing to correct the uncorrectable. Affliction sharpens its teeth with her spine, it's all but jelly. Unable to keep her upright.
"It hurts, Logan," Quiet, defeated. Broken, mouselike. "I'm sorry."
Logan's hand moves to the back of her neck, dips her forward until his forehead brushes hers. Allows her to rest against him, sharing breath. His other hand moves to cradle her face between strong hands. Hands that have killed, hands that understand.
More fresh tears. This time, they fall down his face. One of his hands, she doesn't know which, takes hers. Draws it from her chest. Pulls it to his mouth, shaking fingers. His lips brush against sore, burning knuckles. In a way, this is a Logan she doesn't know—has reasoned, perhaps envisioned. But never known.
"Don't be, pretty thing," his smile is soft, slow. Careful. "Don't gotta be sorry for what you are," he stands, slowly. Offers her his hand. Interlacing their fingers, bends to remove her stilettos. Nudges them aside with the toe of his boot, gently tugs her to her feet. He signals her up with a flick of his fingers.
Obedient, he fortresses her against his chest. Thick arms hold back the world, tired fingers curling against the leathers of his jacket. Breathing him in, for a heartbeat she forgets why. Why she's angry, why they're here—why any of this matters. What any of it even means.
She doesn't forget what he's said, Logan gently swaying her side to side on her feet.
"What am I, Logan?" Swallowing, "What is this?" Lifting a hand, she splays out her fingers.
And she knows what she is, subliminally. On paper, in eyes that aren't hers. Deep, her bones have identity of their own. From now until six feet under, she knows what she is. He's told her before. But to hear him say it, to hear it confirmed in the fading sun of tumult, well—it's identity of a different sort.
His chuckle is low, more of growl than anything. "This," he takes her hand in his again, fingers snug between her own, "this isn't who we are, sweetheart. Not exactly. It's just—it's just part of life." His hand releases, moving to tip her chin up. "And you, well—that ain't hard to figure."
Oh?
“You're mine."
And that's more identity than she figures she'll ever need.
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