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agreeeeeeeeeee · 2 months ago

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Blue Christmas | S.H. ⋆⁺₊❅.

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: You and Steve were casual fwb in high school. You're back in town for Christmas, having just broken up with your college boyfriend. You pick up a sad Christmas movie at Family Video, and Steve refuses to let you wallow alone.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, breakups (not w/ steve), fluffff, talk of self-esteem issues, shitty exes, sweet lil marshmallow stevie, oral, p in v, praise kink, initially she's sorta using Steve to feel better (but he's 1000000% okay with it) and she ends up feeling the feelings.

The soupy heat of Family Video wafts over you when you step through the doors, the salt-covered rug squelching under foot. You lower your hood, shaking out your hair as you peer around the store. Front and center is a Christmas display loaded with movies, complete with a waving, pink-cheeked Santa Clause.

“Y/n?” A familiar, masculine voice calls over Elvis’s version of “Blue Christmas”. You squeeze your eyes shut, having prayed you’d get through Christmas in Hawkins without seeing a singular familiar face beside your mothers, and turn to the voice.

Steve Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington, is standing behind the counter, his hands braced against the edge of it. He looked more or less that same as the last time you saw him a year and a half prior. His jaw was a little squarer, his hair not quite as tall, his shoulders a bit broader. Still just as irritatingly handsome, though.

“Hey, Steve.” You waved, approaching the counter.

“I didn’t know you were coming into town,” he said, smiling as if he was genuinely happy to see you. It wasn’t that you were unhappy to see him, but your previous high school fling was the last person you wanted to see this particular holiday season.

“Yeah, well. Surprise.” You shrugged, wincing internally at the obvious melancholy in your voice.

Of course, Steve clocked it, his smile faltering. “I take it spending your Christmas in Hawkins was a surprise for you too?”

“That obvious?”

It was his turn to shrug. “I lost count of how many times you said you’d never come back once you left.”

Guilt tightened your throat. Why did he make that sound like it was so…personal? “Turns out it’s not simple.”

He hummed in response, moving out from behind the counter, his green vest looking very festive against his red crew neck. “Were you looking for anything in particular?” he asked, leaning against the counter beside you.

God, how did you forget how tall he was? You barely reached his shoulder, his chin tilted down to look at you. His cologne invaded your space, a warmer, spicier blend than you recalled him wearing. His proximity stirred butterflies in your stomach, your body remembering exactly the way felt against you, the ways he used to make you feel…the ways you hadn’t felt since despite being in a year long relationship. Well, despite having been in year long relationship.

You’d ended things when the fall semester wrapped up, effectively incinerating your plans to spend Christmas with him and his family in Chicago. Despite being the one to end things, you were still grieving. Not for him, per se, but the version of yourself you’d lost along the way. Now, you felt directionless and lonely, and being back in the town you left behind was only making you feel worse.

“It’s A Wonderful Life,” you replied, walking towards the Christmas stand to escape his magnetic aura, which somehow, you were still not immune to.

Steve grimaced. “Really? You don’t want something a little more, I dunno, lighthearted?”

“Do I look like I’m in a ‘lighthearted’ place, Harrington?” You bit.

“What’s going on?” He asked, pushing off the counter to come closer, his forehead creased with concern. “You can’t be this upset about spending a few days in Hawkins.”

“Nothing’s going on.” You turn towards the stand, pretending to peruse the options so he doesn’t see the moisture collect along your lashes.

“You think I can’t tell when you’re hurting?” He crossed his arms over his chest, giving you that stern dad look he’d mastered.

You sighed, wiping at your cheek with your scarf. “I was supposed to spend it with my boyfriend, but we broke up instead.” It all came tumbling out of you in a tearful rush. “Now I’m back in dead-end Hawkins with nothing to do by stare at the walls of my childhood bedroom, so I’m looking for a sad movie to wallow in my own misery. Is that okay with you, Officer Steve?”

He stared at you for a moment, dark eyes tracking a tear as it rolled down your cheek. “No, it’s not okay with me.” He grabbed It’s a Wonderful Life of the shelf and walked back to the counter. He rang up the film and dropped it into a bag, along with two boxes of your favorite candy, and a pack of red vines. “Your place or my apartment? My roommate’s cool, y’know, if you want a different view.”

You blinked, trying to piece together what was happening. “Steve, what—”

“Look, you can wallow all you want, but I’m not going to let you do it alone on Christmas.” He wiggled the bag at you. “You coming or not?”

“I—” Going back to Steve’s felt risky. You could still feel a thread of that physical connection with him, the vibration of your body so easily attuning to his. But, you were trying to reclaim who you were before your ex. Maybe being a little reckless was exactly what you needed. “Fuck it. Sure, let’s go to your place.”

He locked up the store and quickly led you through the frigid wind to his car, snow already accumulating on the hood and roof. He opened the door for you, having to tug hard to break the seal of ice, and gestured for you to slide in. The BMW was exactly as you remembered, with it’s dark interior and tinted windows, the smell of Steve embedded in every stitch.

You glanced at the backseat while he rounded the car, heat climbing your neck at the memories the two of you made across that bench seat.

Steve opened the door and you whipped your head forward, but you knew that he caught you, a small smile softening his face as he settled into the drivers seat. Thankfully, he didn’t rib you about it.

He cranked the heat and flipped on the windshield wipers, knocking the snow onto the ground with an umph. “Anything in particular you want to listen to?” He asked, fiddling with the tuning dial.

“Whatever CD you have in is fine,” you said, leaning back against the seat and looking out the window. “As long as it isn’t, like, Toto.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “I can’t believe you think I listen to Toto.”

You snorted. “Well, you do listen to Duran Duran.”

“One time!” he argued.

“You had the CD in for a month!”

“Yeah, one month!”

You found yourself smiling, that glow of familiarity wafting over you. It was a little jarring that you felt more at home in the passenger seat of Steve’s car than you did at your actual home, but you could examine that later. For now, you just wanted to enjoy the ease of it. Steve always made everything feel so easy.

It was a trait of his you often resented, but only out of jealousy, and how much it made you miss his when he was gone.

God, you’d really missed him.

“How about this?” He asked, hitting play on the dash. “Don’t Tell Me You Love Me” by Night Ranger filtered through, the volume low.

“Acceptable choice, Harrington,” you replied, and he rolled his eyes.

“You’re worse than my friend Eddie,” he chuckled, placing his hand behind your headrest to check his blind spot before pulling out.

“Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?” You were baffled. Golden boy Steve Harrington was friends with Hawkins-reject Eddie Munson? What alternate reality had you stepped into?

“Yeah, why do you look so surprised?” He flicked your ear as he pulled his hand back to the wheel.

“Because!” You squeaked, batting his hand away. “You looked at a joint one time and nearly hurled. I just can’t see it.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a changed man,” he hummed, drumming his fingers onto he steering wheel as he navigated the empty streets, the snow falling in golden flurries from the headlights.

“I’m starting to gather.” You settled back into your seat, watching the familiar store fronts roll by and trying not to look at him.

“So, why’d you dump him?” Steve asked, never one to sit in silence for long.

“His cock was too big.”

Steve barked a laugh. “I find that hard to believe. You always were greedy—”

“Steve!” You gasped, smacking his arm as a embarrassment scorched your cheeks.

“What? We’re going to pretend that I didn’t fuck you after prom right there—”

“No, but, Christ!” You laughed, hiding your face in your scarf.

“Hey, you’re the one that brought up cocks.”

“My mistake,” you huffed, catching his eye as he glanced over at you, a cheeky grin crinkling his face.

“’Least it made you smile,” he said, turning into an apartment complex parking lot, full of potholes and poorly plowed snow. “Here we are, Chez Harrington.” He parked, hopped out of the car, and ran around the front to open the door for you.

You stuck your tongue out at him, teasing him for being so weirdly gentleman-ly. But as soon as you stepped out, your converse slid across a patch of black ice, sending you collapsing into his arms.

“Careful,” he chuckled, his face mere inches from yours. “It’s slippery.” He set you back on your feet and offered you his arm for balance. You begrudgingly accepted, not particularly keen on cracking your skull open a few days before Christmas.

“So who’s your roommate?” You asked as he lead you into the building.

“Robin Buckley,” he replied, fishing his key out of his pocket and letting you both into the heat-blasted lobby.

“Just how many new friends have you made?” You teased, still arm in arm as you walked to the elevator. You remembered Robin, you’d been in English together.

“Ah—” Steve glanced up like he was counting in his head. “A few.”

A stab of loneliness pierced through you. At one point, you’d had loads of friends too, never as many as Steve, of course, but a good group to call your own. But, in college, all of your friends had been your boyfriend’s first, and now…you’d fled to Hawkins, and had no idea if you’d have any friends to return to.

Your melancholy returned in earnest, soured further by the intrusive thought that Steve was only entertaining you because he felt bad for you, or worse, just wanted to get his dick wet. But, weren’t you using him for basically the same reasons? You thought you were, but then he’d been so Steve-like that you’d gotten caught up in your old banter, forgetting that gulf of months between you.

It hadn’t felt forced at all, and that made your heart rate quicken.

The elevator dinged open, jarring you from you reverie.

“Where’d you go?” Steve asked, nudging you inside. Christmas music played softly from the speaker, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”, of course, and tears burned behind you eyes once again.

You just wanted Christmas to be over. All the manufactured joy made your hurt feel that much more real.

“Hey, c’mere.” Steve tugged you into his chest as the doors rolled closed, the elevator lifting off the ground with a mechanical groan.

You curled your hands into his sweater, breathing in his cologne and the lingering scent of saran-wrapped video store, and fought down the wave of emotion trying to choke you.

Steve’s hands rubbed up and down your back, his cheek resting on top of your head. “I’m sorry you’re having such a hard Christmas,” he murmured into your hair. “But you’re always welcome to hide away with me whenever you need to. Or want to.”

The doors dinged and you pulled away, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “Thanks, Stevie,” you sniffed.

The look on his face was so soft, you could barely stand it, his features turned down in worry, his brows furrowed just slightly. “C’mon, we gotta get those tears out somehow.” He grabbed your hand and led you down the hall, unlocking the door to his apartment. “Buckley?” He called, flicking on the lights in the kitchen. “Robin, you home?” He called again, walking into the tidy, but cluttered living room.

There were string lights stretched across the ceiling, and a pathetic little Christmas tree on the coffee table. Posters hung on every wall, with weird art and trinkets heaped onto bookshelves and hand-me-down furniture. Steve’s shoes were in a neat row by the door, and Robin’s were scattered everywhere, mixed up and turned around.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The whole place screamed Steve, form the sports memorabilia, to the specific movie posters by the TV.

“Guess she’s out,” Steve said, coming back into the living room. “I’ll take your coat and scarf.” He extended a hand to you, and you kicked off you shoes before passing him your outerwear, suddenly remembering that you were wearing just a white turtleneck underneath, sans bra.

Steve’s seen your tits countless times. It’s fine, or so you told yourself.

To his credit, he kept his eyes firmly on your face, then walked back to what you assume is his room to set your things down. He returned a few moments later, dressed in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

“I set another pair of pajama pants on the bed if you wanted to, ah, get comfortable,” he said, reaching up to scratch the back of his head and gesturing to your jeans.

A flurry of butterflies tickled your insides. “Sure, thanks,” you said, slipping past him and into his bedroom.

The smell of him enveloped you once again, and you loosed a long exhale after closing the door behind you. His room was less decorated than the rest of the apartment, with just a few photos and posters on the wall, with a bookshelf by the door and his unmade bed up against the window.

You were seized with the desire to climb under his covers, wrap yourself in him, but you resisted.

Unable to help yourself, you snooped around his dresser. There, stuck to the mirror with a piece of scotch tape, was a Polaroid of you and Steve kissing at a party Senior year. He has you dipped low, his hand on your lower back, and your lips tingled at the memory.

As promised, pair of flannel sweatpants waited for you at the foot of the bed, along with a folded up sweatshirt. Your heart gave a painful thump when you realized what hoodie he’d selected. It was his grey Hawkins High hoodie, a faded, roaring tiger on the front and Harrington in bold letters on the back. It had been your favorite of his, one you would steal every chance you got.

You shimmied out of your jeans and pulled on the sweatpants, the fabric soft from wear and a handful of sizes too large. Then, you tugged the hoodie over your head, pausing to bury your face in the collar, breathing in the comforting scent.

When you emerged into the living room, you found him stretched out on the couch, bowls of candy and popcorn set up on the table, the movie’s home screen on the TV. All the lights were off, save the string lights and the Christmas tree, casting the room in a sleepy, warm glow that contrasted perfectly with the flurries of white just outside the window.

You resisted the urge to flop into his arms, and instead curled up on the opposite end of the couch, tucking a blanket around your legs. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, but you pretended not to see it.

You didn’t trust yourself to touch him. If being wrapped up in his hoodie felt this magical, what would it feel like to be wrapped up in him?

“Ready?” He asked, pointing the remote.

You nodded, and he hit play.

You didn’t make it twenty minutes before you started crying again, real, hiccuping sobs that you’d been forcing down for over a week.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, gathering you and your blanket in his arms. “That’s it, y/n. You need a good cry, huh?” He laid back onto the couch and tucked you into his side, your legs tangled together, your head buried into his neck as you fell apart. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your hair, and just held you tightly, a safe harbor to crash into.

He let you cry for awhile without question or complaint, letting you soak his shirt with tears, before he cupped your face, lifting your head to look at him.

“You are one of my most favorite people in the whole world,” he said matter-of-factly, spurring renewed tears. But he held your face firm and didn’t let you bury yourself back into his shoulder. “And you deserve all of the wonderful things in life. And anyone who doesn’t give that to you is a fucking idiot.”

“But he was wonderful,” you whimper, trembling in his hands as the truth finally forced itself from you. “He was everything I should have wanted, but I just…I couldn’t love him. And I couldn’t lie to him anymore either.”

“You can’t help who you love,” he said gently, wiping your cheeks and nose with a tissue. “You did the right thing.”

“But what’s wrong with me? I should have been able to—”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Steve said firmly, sitting up slightly to look down at your tear-streaked face. “You’re—” he sighed, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “You’re everything, y/n.”

“If nothing's wrong with me, then why do I feel so alone?” you murmur, voice watery and weak.

He leaned his forehead against yours, shaky breathes mingling in the warm air. You could feel his heart racing against yours “You were never alone. I was always right where you left me,” he breathed, his nose bumping yours. “All you had to do was call.”

You sat up, shoving him off of you. “Why didn’t you call, Steve?” You felt panicked, overwhelmed by the barrage of emotions waiting for your attention. Desire, guilt for feeling desire so soon after your breakup, fear of rejection, embarrassment for how quickly you were falling for his charm once again. Ashamed that you came here in the first place, and thrilled that you still had a place to go to.

“I—” Hurt shadowed his face. “You told me you were leaving for good. That you didn't want anything to do with Hawkins.” You jumped up and he stood with you, following you as you fled to the kitchen. “That you wanted a new life!”

“I didn't mean you, Steve!” You shouted, slamming your hands on the counter. “But you had everything. Friends, prospects, a family, Nancy,” you spit. “I had nothing here but you.” The confession slipped out before you had a chance to stop yourself, like the words had been waiting on the tip of your tongue, laying just beneath the surface.

Steve stared at you, baffled. “You think I didn't need you?” He asked, voice softening.

You shook your head, turning away so he didn't see you start to cry again.

His hands gripped your shoulders and you gasped when he spun you around, his head bent low to look you in the eye. “Y/n, you and I both know that I'm probably going to die in Hawkins. I'm not one of the ones that gets out.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he didn't stop.

“But you. You wanted to get out, you did get out.” He shook you as if to punctuate his point. “And I've missed you like crazy. Every damn day. But I couldn't hold you back. I couldn't be the reason you stayed here.”

Your heart fractured at his words, that he thought he wasn't worth being someone's reason. That he would somehow hold you back from happiness.

He was your happiness. And you'd been too blinded by fantasies of escaping to see it. You'd told him your entire relationship, or whatever the hell it was, that you would never stay. That Hawkins wasn't good enough for you. And he’d heard that he wasn't good enough for you.

You did what was supposed to be “better”, what you thought you always wanted, and you were completely miserable.

“Steve, I—” you couldn't find the words to express what you were thinking, what you were feeling.

“Don't. Don't give me hope unless you really mean it.” His jaw clenched, honey brown eyes rimmed with red. “I let you go once, I can't—I can’t do it again.” He leaned his forehead against yours, releasing a shaky exhale.

It clicked then, why you wanted so badly to escape from Hawkins. Why you always kept Steve at arms length despite the way your soul twined with his. Why you couldn't make the relationship with your ex work.

You dreamed your entire life of fleeing, so you were terrified of what staying meant.

“Steve,” you murmured, placing your hands on his chest, his heart thumping wildly beneath your palms. “I don't want to run anymore.”

His heart beat impossibly faster, his muscles tensing.

“I want you. Wherever we are, whatever that means.” You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss the corner of his mouth. “Hawkins isn't my home. You are.”

Steve made a pained sound in his throat, then crashed his lips to yours, desperate and rough. You opened for him, his tongue delving between your lips to lick at your teeth, dance with your tongue, claiming every square inch of your mouth as his.

You'd shared countless kisses, but none were this fervid, this hungry. Gone was your playful, tender Stevie, and in his place stood a starving man ready to claim what was his.

Heat spilled through your body, your pussy throbbing with each stroke of his tongue. Your fingers found there way into his hair, drawing him closer, wishing you could open up your skin and let him crawl inside so you'd never be apart again.

You gasped for air, chest burning as he licked a stripe up your neck, latching onto your pulse point and sucking hard.

“Steve,” you whined, lifting your left leg and wrapping it around his waist so you could angle yourself closer. His hips immediately started grinding into yours, the hardness of him hitting your clit just right through his sweatpants.

“Goddamn, I missed you,” he groaned, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses over your neck, his hand sliding under his hoodie to feel your fevered skin.

It wasn't enough though, and he shifted to pull it over your head and tossing it across the kitchen, leaving you in your thin turtleneck.

“A turtleneck has literally never looked so sexy.” He dropped to his knees, his hot mouth finding your taut nipples through the fabric.

You moaned, head falling back as you carded your fingers through his thick hair, pulling him closer. His teeth grazed your sensitive points and you nearly collapsed onto him, the pleasure and pain rewiring your brain.

“So fucking perfect,” he hummed, biting at your outside of your left breast. His hands found the waist band of your pants, tugging them down and tossing them aside with your hoodie. “Jump up f’me,” he said, hands on your hips.

You did as you were told and he lifted you into the counter, your clothed pussy now level with his face.

“Steve,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. His eyes were on fire, wild with desire. “What if Robin comes home?”

“Lucky Robin,” he chuckled, voice raspy, and ducked out of your hold, his tongue laving a scalding stroke over your soaked panties.

“Ohh—shit, Stevie,” you loosed a pornstar-esque moan as he bathed your pussy with his tongue, sucking at the fabric and your clit. He finally pulled your panties aside, his tongue making direct contact with your puffy lips. You felt like you were vibrating out of your skin, the pleasure so intense you felt it in every pore, every follicle, every cell of your body.

He groaned, a euphoric sound, as he lapped at your entrance, his tongue delving inside the way he knew you liked.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration as he pulled back to bite at the meat of your thigh. “You taste even better than I remembered.”

You pulled at his hair, urging him back between your thighs, but he resisted, seeming to have let some the urgency ebb in favor of toying with you.

“What, honey? Your ex not take good care of my pussy?” He spread your sticky lips with his pointer and middle finger, exposing your swollen clit.

My pussy. A fresh swell of arousal pulsed through you at his words.

“No, never,” you whined, the ache between your legs growing unbearable as he studied you.

“Never?” He asked, looking up at you with his eyebrows raised. “He never ate you out?”

You shook your head, glancing away in shame.

“You poor thing,” he cooed, the tip of his tongue flicking over your exposed bundle and making your body jerk. “That why you're so squirmy, love?”

You nodded, biting your lips as he continued to slowly trace his tongue over you. “Please, baby. I need you,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to chase his mouth. “Please, Stevie. Please make me cum.”

You felt him smile against you, those brown eyes watching your face pinch with desperation, chest heaving.

“Since you asked so nicely…” He flattened his tongue against you and licked upwards, and you melted onto the counter, bliss rocking through you. The urgency from earlier returned, and he feasted on your cunt like it was the most delicious meal he'd ever had.

His tongue and teeth were everywhere, ratcheting you higher and higher with every nip, flick, and suck. You were on cloud nine, loudly singing his praises as he worshiped you with his tongue.

You felt that knot of pleasure tighten to the breaking point, hovering on the edge for less than a heartbeat before he sent you careening over the edge and into euphoria.

“Fuck, Steve!” You cried, your body convulsing as the orgasm ravaged through you. He was smiling again, lapping at the fresh honey spilling from you and holding you securely to the counter so you didn't slide off.

“There’s my girl,” he praised, licking his lips as he rose to his feet. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” He peppered kisses across your exposed neck, pulse fluttering just under the skin. “I almost feel bad for the guy. What kind of idiot wouldn't want to drown in you?”

You got your bearings, blinking away the stars in your eyes. “I even gave him head,” you chuckled, sitting up with a little assistance.

“I didn't need to know that.” He rolled his eyes, kissing you lightly, the taste of you lingering on his tongue.

“Are you jealous, baby?” You hummed, kissing along the curve of his neck.

“Duh.” His grip tightened on your thighs, head tipping slightly to give you better access.

“You have nothing to be jealous of.” You palmed his cock through his pants, licking his cheek to make him smile. “He wasn't nearly as pretty as you.”

“Of course not. Who is?” He joked, but his voice was rough with desire, his hips canting forward to rub against your hand.

“C’mon, pretty boy. Let's go to your room.”

He didn't need to be told twice. He scooped you up and practically ran to his room, flopping backwards onto the mattress with you still in his arms so you straddled him.

You leaned down and captured his lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it with a drag of your teeth on his lower lip. But before he could get too into it, you broke the kiss and shifted down his body, pushing up his shirt to kiss along his torso.

He moaned, propping himself up his elbows to watch you through heavy lids. You licked along his hip bone, making his cock kick against your chest.

“Shirt off,” you ordered, and he quickly obliged, tossing it to the end of the bed. “So handsome, Stevie,” you cooed, pausing to admire his more muscular build, though he was still quite lean. You couldn't help but lean forward and press some kisses along his happy trail and the hair across his chest, loving the masculine look and feel of him.

You kissed back down his body, settling on your knees between his legs. He watched with rapt attention as you pulled his sweatpants down and freed his weeping cock. It bounced up, slapping him in the stomach and smearing pearly precum against his skin.

It was just as pretty as your remembered, more length than girth, with a rose petal flush and pronounced veins.

You licked up the mess he’d made, kissing around his shaft while it nudged at your cheek.

“Baby,” he whined, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Quit teasing me.”

You smirked and licked a long stripe up the root of him, earning a throaty cry. You let your instincts take over, remembering every sensitive place and technique that made him unravel while you worked his cock with your tongue, doing everything but taking him fully into your mouth.

“Holy fucking—baby, you're killing me.” His hips bucked up against you, desperate to be wrapped in the heat of your body. “Mmmph, that feels unreal.”

You glanced up at him, finding his head thrown back, his eyes screwed shut. A flush had spread across his chest, a dewy sheen over his skin.

Satisfied that you'd tortured him long enough, you took his cock in your mouth, swallowing him in a fluid motion. You only reached about three-quarters of the way down before your throat protested, though he acted like you swallowed him all the way to his soul.

“Fuuuuck, y/n,” he moaned, gripping you tighter as you bobbed up and down, hallowing your cheeks. “You suck him this good?” He asked, taking over your motions and lifting and lowering you on his cock.

You shook your head as best you could, drool dribbling down your chin.

“Good,” he rasped, releasing you so you could return to your own rhythm.

You reached up and wrapped one of your hands around the base, stroking him in time with your mouth. He fell back onto the mattress, throwing an arm over his face, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

“Baby, you're gonna make cum if you keep that up,” he warned, fisting the sheets with his free hand. “F-fucking shit.”

You finally eased off him, the demanding ache between your legs too much to ignore. You needed him inside you. Now.

Apparently on the same page, he wasted no time grabbing you by the waist and tossing you back onto the bed. He climbed up between your legs, his hands braced on either side of your head. His cock was nestled against your sloppy center, drooling and hot to the touch.

He leaned down and kissed you, sweet and chaste considering you were just gagging on his cock. “This what you want?” He asked, pulling back to look into your eyes.

It felt like he wasn't just asking about the sex.

“More than anything,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled and kissed you again, one of his hands reaching down to line himself up with your entrance. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the safety of his neck as his slid into you, your thoroughly aroused pussy accepting him with ease.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he murmured into your hair pressing soothing kisses to the top of your head. “You were ready for me, huh? So wet and soft��god—fuck.” His voice broke as you rolled your hips against him, his length gliding through you.

You threw your head back, crying out when he snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. He eased out, slow and steady, before slamming home again, knocking every thought from your mind.

“I remember how you like it, honey. Want me to fuck you stupid?” He asked, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“Yes, God, yes,” you moaned, already swept up in the current of pleasure.

“I got you, pretty girl. Just relax.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before reaching up to grip the headboard. He doubled his pace, rutting into you at a rate that made you see stars, your body completely surrendering to him.

With Steve, you didn't have to think. You didn't have to doubt. You could just let go and trust that he would have you.

He fucked you hard, sliding his hand between you to pet your clit the way you loved, slow and soft in comparison to the brutality of his thrusts. He could play you like an instrument, and it drove you fucking wild.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, already a wreck for me. Does that feel good, honey?” He mouthed into the skin of your neck, breath hot and panting.

You keened when he changed the angle of his hips, hitting the terrible, magical spot inside you. Your orgasm was coming on fast, your whole body trembling as it wound higher and higher.

“I wanna feel you come around my cock, that's it. Good fucking girl—fuck!” Your and Steve’s orgasms collided, sucking the air out of the room and sending you both reeling. Bodies clinging to one another as he fucked you threw it, your pussy baring down hard on his pulsing cock.

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted, collapsing on top of you, sweaty and warm and trembling. “I love you,” he repeated, like he was a little stunned the words came out of his mouth.

You wrapped your limbs around him, his softening cock notching a bit deeper, making you both gasp. “I love you too,” you whisper, hardly believing that those words were finally coming out of your mouth after so many years.

You were so full. So full of him, of love, of excitement for what this meant. Suddenly, Christmas sounded magical again.

You lay together in a tangle of limbs, just breathing and feeling one another, basking in the honeyed afterglow.

“Merry Christmas,” he hummed, sounding almost drunk.

“Merry Christmas.” You kissed his temple, feeling your eyes start to grow heavy.

Ring ring!

“Gah, fuck,” Steve huffed, reluctantly shoving off of you and pulling on some sweatpants.

Ring ring!

He padded out into the kitchen and you followed him, wrapping a quilt around your naked body and giggling at the irritated look on his face.

“Go for Steve,” he answered, and you had to cover your mouth to suppress a laugh.

“Go for Steve? Really? That's embarrassing.” A female voice drifted through the speaker. Robin, you presumed. “Have you eaten yet?”

Steve smirked at you, running his tongue over his teeth. “Not dinner, no. Why?”

“Of course dinner. Do you want pizza, or—oh God, ew. Don't ever speak to me like that again.” Robin was quiet for a beat. “Does that mean Santa brought y/n home?”

Your jaw dropped, and Steve flushed scarlet.

“Pizza sounds great! Peppers and onions, extra sauce. Thanks, Rob!” Steve slammed the phone into the receiver.

You slinked towards him, sliding your hands up his bare chest while he tried to avoid your eyes, pink staining his cheeks. “Stevie?”

“Hm?”

“Did you ask Santa for me?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I may have asked a mall Santa at the bar while I was drunk. Maybe.”

You grinned, affection melting your heart, and grabbed his face to peck his warm cheek. “And you remembered my pizza order,” you cooed, nuzzling him.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, or whatever.” He murmured, catching your lips in a smiling kiss.

“I love you too, Harrington.”

Thanks for reading!

I'm still open for holiday requests, so feel free to send your ideas my way!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #steve stranger things #steve x reader #steve x you #christmas #christmas fic

647 notes · View notes

wild-jackalope · 4 months ago

Text

Don’t speak! I know just what you’re saying, so please stop explaining, don’t tell me ‘cause it hurts!

pairing :: Best friend!Yuji x reader, older brother!Choso x reader (secondary)

warning :: modern au, pining, one-sided love, angst, love triangle, friends to lovers, smut, some dubcon (reader is intoxicated), fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v sex, low-key toxic at times hehe.

note :: everyone thank Gwen Stefani’s song for inspiring this fic 🙏 strap in cos this is long and angsty.

“And who’re you showing off those legs to?” Maki asked, utter judgement filling her gaze as she swept over the outfit you’d chosen.

“You don’t like?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed of the miniskirt you’d decided to try on.

“You look fine, Maki is just judgmental.” Nobara waved her off, offering a supportive thumbs up to you.

“You still didn’t answer me.” Maki continued.

“No one, this is for me.” You huffed, sure of your answer. Despite it not being the entire the truth.

“Choso, Itadori’s older brother.”

“Nobara!” You gaped.

“Seriously?” Maki’s face scrunched, eyeing you with double the previous amount of judgement. “Hasn’t he known you since you were little?”

“Well, yes —but I’m not little anymore. I’m grown.” You gazed at yourself in the change room mirror. “I want him to see that.” From the reflection, you could see Maki give Nobara a sidelong look, one that the short haired girl avoided.

Had you said something foolish? Blood rushed to your cheeks and you slipped back into the change room, closing the curtain in a quick swish. You unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to your feet and pile at the floor.

You were grown. You could see it in your body, in the plumpness around your thighs and in the breasts that were cupped by a bra. You weren’t the little girl clinging to Choso’s leg crying because of a scraped knee anymore. You were older now, you had matured in so many ways and you wanted him to see that. You placed on your clothes and scooped up the miniskirt.

If asked, Nobara would describe your feelings for Choso as a little crush, some fleeting fancy that had come with knowing him for so long. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but fleeting was far from correct. Each time his calm, tired eyes softened at the sight of you, your stomach flittered with butterflies. Whenever he greeted you with a tight hug, you went as soft as a melting marshmallow in his embrace and when he complimented you, telling you he was so proud of you everything crumbled, every judgment you had of yourself dissipated into utter nothingness. The feelings you had for him were seeded since you were a toddler and had since grown into a loyal love.

So, you paid for the miniskirt, uncaring of the price.

The next stop in your shopping trip was the food court, the three of you girls needing a rest and refill after depleting your collective energies shopping and discussing whatever relevant drama Nobara spilled.

“Do you need a ride home?” Nobara asked, taking a break from sipping up her boba.

“Choso’s picking me up.” You murmured, a subtle excitement tugging up the corner of your lips.

“Why?” Her brow lifted slyly and she smiled at you.

“My family is away for a little bit, so I’m staying at the Itadori’s for a week until they get back.” It wasn’t uncommon, you’d often been tossed to your next door neighbours like an orphan during childhood. However now, it was a choice from you. You didn’t need to stay at their’s. You were an adult, you could look after yourself. “Yuji wanted me to stay over.” You added. The reason why you said yes being able to spend a whole week with Choso conveniently kept from your mouth.

“What I don’t understand is why you aren’t fawning over him.” Maki stated, stabbing her glossy chicken with her fork, then biting it.

Nobara’s eyes slid over to Maki, wide at her statement. She didn’t speak though, silently sipping at her boba tea.

“Yuji?” You blinked.

“He’s pretty much the same as Choso, isn’t he?” Maki continued, chewing her meal.

You laughed. “Yuji isn’t anything like Cho, they’re completely different.” You shook your head. “Besides, I’ve grown up with Yuji, he’s like my brother.”

Nobara seemed to cringe at the notion, but still she remained silent. Maki too, continued to eat without making another comment towards the two brothers.

It wasn’t until they said their goodbyes to you, that Yuji was brought up again.

You’d left your hug with Nobara, then reached for Maki. As usual, she wrapped her arms around you with her unusual strength that could’ve left you bruised if the embrace wasn’t so brief.

“Say hello to Itadori for us.” She muttered. Now, if it weren’t for the simple action of Nobara elbowing Maki’s side, you would have responded with a chipper ‘sure!’ But as the caramel haired girl eyed Maki with a stiff annoyance, swiftly aiming for her side you suddenly felt left out, like the third wheel of some information they both knew and had not informed you of. Maki simply rolled her eyes at Nobara, uncaring.

“Uhm, okay, sure.” Your smile weakened and you waved at the two.

Behind you, Choso parked the Itadori family car in the pickup section. A car you could recognise anywhere, especially considering it had been fairly scratched up after Yuji’s father had lended it to his brother, Sukuna, who returned the car after three days of God knows what.

You slipped inside, letting the odd interaction with your friends leave you as you left them. You were far too excited to see Choso to let it linger anyway.

As you turned to see the dark haired man, he was already leaning over to bring you into a hug. His masculine scent filled your lungs like cigarette smoke and twice as addictive as nicotine, you wanted more the second he pulled away.

However, as Choso’s let go of you, he reached for your seatbelt, pulling it over you and for a millisecond, his brown eyes lifted from where the seatbelt strapped your body to your own eyes. His face so close, you could practically taste his lips. The gesture utterly melted your insides to hot lava.

“How was shopping?” He asked, returning to the wheel and starting the car.

“So good.” You sighed, still high off his close proximity. Conveniently, the branded shopping bag hiding your new miniskirt sat on your lap. “I got some nice things for myself.” You added.

“Do you need any money?” He asked, eyes floating to you for a moment, before returning to the road. A delightful shiver slipped up your spine at his glance, and you couldn’t help the grin that reached you.

“No, Cho, you know I’ve got my own money to pay for things.” You were grown, after all.

He shrugged, cracking a kind smile. “Alright, I get it. Don’t be afraid to ask, though.”

God, he was so perfect. You wanted nothing more than for him stop the car so you could smother him with hugs and kisses. “You spoil me too much, Cho. What if I asked you for a hundred?”

He shrugged, the simple movement very telling that he would give it to you, without a second thought. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

So so perfect. Maybe if he did stop the car so you could smother him, you’d ride him too, just to make him feel as spoiled as you did. You let the dirty thought linger, probably longer than you should’ve.

“We’re excited to have you over for the week, Yuji actually cleaned his room for you.” He huffed, amused, at the thought.

“Did he?” Why couldn’t you share a bed with him? You were so tired of waking up in the middle of the night halfway off the bed with Yuji’s sprawled limbs all over you— even worse, waking up to Yuji hugging you (borderline snuffing you) with all his weight.

“Mhm, he’s always so excited to see you.” A knowing smile presented itself on Choso’s lips, and you suddenly felt left out of some knowledge again. It left a bad taste in your mouth for the rest of the car ride.

Once home, Choso opened the front door for you and you were met with an unusually empty, quiet home.

“Yuji’s probably in his room, you should say hi to him.” Choso instructed, moving to the nearby kitchen and dropping the car keys on the table.

As familiarly as your own home, you strolled through the corridor. “Yuuuji.” You sung, pushing into his room.

As the door creaked open, you were met with Yuji midway through putting his shirt on. He paused just before it looped over his head, giving you a view of his toned back. Notably, his pants were spotted with a superhero logo and the shirt he had finally let fall over his body was large and baggy.

“Are you seriously getting into your pyjamas already?” You asked, full of judgement.

“It’s five pm!” Yuji retorted. “Also knock, you could’ve seen my dick.”

“Gross, and I could say the same for you.” There had been countless times Yuji had walked in on you changing, he could likely piece together what your naked body looked like with all the occasions he’s seen various clothes off you. The idea barely bothered you. You trusted Yuji after all. Trusted that when he saw you naked, he just saw you, not your body.

Technically, it wasn’t anything he’s not seen before. During the early days of your childhood the two of you would run around butt naked causing all sorts of havoc, chasing one another with water guns during hot summer afternoons or avoiding bath time together annoyingly late. Puberty might’ve changed your body, but it hadn’t changed your thoughts towards Yuji.

However, you wouldn’t be quick to take your clothes off in front of him now. “I’ll get changed too.” You uttered, opening his bedroom door wider.

He groaned, leaving with a heavy walk. “This is my bedroom, y’know.”

“Not this week.” You grinned, shutting the door before he could come up with a snarky retort.

To say Yuji was just a brother to you, or your friend wouldn’t quite do him justice. Best friend didn’t really fit him either. He was all of it, altogether. The guy who’d answer your one AM phone calls when you couldn’t sleep, the guy who knew exactly how to massage the stress out of your shoulders, the guy to hold you when you cried over spilt milk— he was your guy. Your man.

You weren’t completely ignorant to the idea of dating Yuji, so many people had told you you’d make the perfect couple over the years, it was only natural that you’d consider the possibility. The beautiful moments you shared with him over the years seemed to become muddied in your mind whenever you thought of him romantically. Your stomach would flip uncomfortably at the idea of kissing him. The times you held hands innocently darkened as you considered what if we did that as boyfriend and girlfriend? So you placed the thoughts inside a jar, sealed it shut and threw it into the basement of your brain.

After pulling your pyjamas out from your stay over backpack and put them on, you called to Yuji from inside his room. “You can come back in.”

He did so, entering back into his room and flopping onto his bed. You joined him on his bed, letting yourself freely fall on top of him.

“What’s for dinner?” You asked.

He had no reaction, just the small breath that escaped him at the comfortable weight of you. “Choso ordered some pizza.”

“Movie tonight?” You continued, too lazy to formulate a proper question. Yuji would know what you meant, anyway, he always did.

“Are you finally gonna watch Human Earth Worm three with me?” He asked, head lifting to watch your face contort in disgust.

“Fuck that.” He laughed, shifting you on his stomach at his chuckle.

“Please? It’s seriously good, I’m telling you.” He whined, clear grin still on his face.

“I don’t care man, can’t we watch something nice?” You considered Choso, he’d be there right next to you on the couch, watching. “Something romantic?”

“That’s the thing! It is a romance, if you look closely it’s about the love between the monster and the protagonist.”

On second thought, maybe a horror would give you the chance to cuddle up next to Choso (as corny as it was). “Fine, we can watch it. Just stop yapping about it like such a fanboy.” You smacked a hand over his mouth, muffling the laugh that left him.

Just as quickly as you shut him up, you pulled your hand back as his slimy warm tongue swished against your palm.

“Gross Yuji!” You wiped the saliva on his shirt, hitting his shoulder. You raise your hand again in preparation to give Yuji’s chest another clean whack! However your plans are swiftly thwarted when Yuji grabbed your wrist, rolling you over with his body weight until he was above you.

You yelped, laughing as he smothered your body into the now messy sheets. He had you pinned face forward against the bed, legs kept down by his knees and your arms held back by the strength you’d grown to hate due to it giving Yuji a complete monopoly over your body in wrestling. You squirmed roughly, tugging at his grip. The attempt at freedom worsened your situation, as Yuji just laid flat on your back.

“Get off!” You laughed, choking on the oxygen that Yuji’s weight wheezed from your lungs. Harder now, you squirmed; flailing your arms, kicking your legs, rocking your hips.

“Don’t move like that—” Not a joke, you could hear it in his voice. It was a quick plea, that was followed by a harsh suck in of air through his teeth.

And for a split second, that jar you’d thrown into the dark corners of your mind loosened and you wondered what would it be like to have sex with your best friend? He’d be the type of guy who’d like to take you from behind, surely. Before the lid could completely pop off, Choso’s voice echoed from down the hall, an announcement that the pizza had arrived.

In a flash, the pink haired boy gave you one last shove into the bed, pushing himself off in a quick dash to the front door. You scoffed loudly, immediately attempting to catch up to him in a scrambled hurry, abruptly sliding into a wall at your departing balance.

Pizza and a movie was a usual treat in the Itadori home whenever you came to visit, it was probably why Yuji was so keen on having you over when he found out your parents wouldn’t be home (that, and he really hated the idea of leaving you alone in an empty home for an entire week).

With the hot food served, the three of you planted yourselves on the couch, Yuji eagerly recapping the last two movies in the Earthworm franchise before pressing play on the third instalment.

Having only worked up enough courage by the time the movie had reached its halfway mark to enact you nefarious plan to cuddle with Choso, you’d shuffled on the couch, coming close enough to have your thighs connecting.

Delicately, as if you touched him without the grace of a fairy he might not notice you and pull away, you laid your head on Choso’s shoulder. You must’ve succeeded in your sneaky efforts, because Choso didn’t blink, nor tense, instead he lifted an arm and casually wrapped it around you.

Beside you, sour eyes narrowed at the sight.

He knew, oh how he knew. Yuji was slapped in the face with your pining over his brother since he was a toddler. Even at such a young age, he could tell there was something in your eyes— a glimmer of pure affection— when you looked at Choso that simply wasn’t there when you looked at him. He initially hoped thought you would grow out of the crush, but he just watched it grow. He watched you grow into a gorgeous person, watched himself fall further and further in love with you and watched you watch Choso. Not him.

The too-familiar feeling of covetousness bubbled in Yuji’s stomach, bringing forward the storm that was his feelings for you and tormenting him. I’m back Yuji! Gleefully yelled his jealousy. I’m back and oh, I dunno, this time I might just make you tear your brother apart! Why not? Gotta get that girl sometime, you know, can’t keep fucking your hand thinking of her forever!

He could practically hear your heart dance for his brother even over the screaming gore on screen.

He was only tortured by the sight for another half an hour, completely minuscule compared to the years worth of moments like these. Like a blessing, Choso finally lifted himself from the couch to clean up everyone’s plates.

“What’d you do today?” Yuji asked, quick to distract you from the disappointment of Choso leaving.

“I went shopping with Nobara and Maki, they say hi by the way.” You utter, eyes following Choso to the kitchen.

“Did you give her some money?” Yuji asked, raising his voice to reach the man in the kitchen.

“Guys please, I don’t need money I’ve got my own.” You assured. Were they really so generous, or did they just think you were dirt poor?

“That’s what she said to me when I tried.” Choso shrugged, offering a smile to you. “It made me feel like a proud older brother.”

A thick pause filled the room before you truely processed what Choso had said. “For me?” You questioned, jaw falling somewhat slack.

“Mhm, like my little sister is finally able to take care of herself.” He added, rubbing pure salt into your icy wound.

“Oh.” Was all that managed to fall from your lips.

Yuji eyed you carefully, mouth suddenly sewn shut. His stomach filled with a heat that was not entirely unpleasant.

At first, a queazy glow flushed your cheeks, then the feeling of your ka-thunking! heart falling into your ass hit next. Beside you, Yuji watching your transformation into a heartbroken thing right before his carefully observant eyes.

Had you really been so delusional? That wasn’t it. That didn’t fit right. After everything, all the moments shared. After cuddling with him while watching a horror movie, he couldn’t have just seen you as a pathetic little sibling. Had you truely hyped yourself up to be this mature, romanticised woman and Choso only saw you as the little girl that clung to his knee, crying?

Yuji could practically see the thoughts flash over your eyes as you sat in a tranced— stunned silence. His lips parted to save you from being buried too deep within yourself but you beat him to it.

“I’m going to go for a walk.” You uttered, zombielike.

You’d left the house before either boys could offer to go with you, or utter a quick concern as to why you were craving a walk so late in the evening.

Nostalgia. It spilled like water, filling each crevice of your mind. You couldn’t help it, you had already begun reliving each memory with Choso, overthinking, overanalysing.

'Cho look! I drew something' you'd waddle over to him, holding a crinkled piece of paper scribbled with bright neons.

'Oh wow, is this for me?' He asked, a praising hand resting on your head and sliding down your hair.

'Yup!' You beamed. He'd take the paper you offered and held it with such kind care, never folding it and keeping it near his chest. Even now, you could recall the way he always held your childish offerings with such care.

Despite growing up beside Choso, you weren't his little sister. You weren't even apart of his family. Not really.

'Fight me Yuji!' You'd rile up the peach haired boy like he was a dog too much. Pinching and poking him until he'd finally pounce on you, play fighting until someone burst into tears (you, you were always the first to tap out with teary eyes). 'Ow Yuji! That hurt!'

And he'd be there, a hand resting on your head and swiping the frizzed hair from your puffy, wet face. 'I know it hurts, are you okay?'

Christ. He was ten years older than you, there was no way you were even on his radar! It didn't matter your body had bloomed, you really were still the little girl clinging to his knee, crying. Weren't you? You were, you were finally sure, now.

As you inhaled the fresh night, a subtle scent of rain in the air, you consider what to do with the loving feeling that had seeded its roots into you over two decades. You couldn't find an answer, until the love appeared behind you.

A large coat weighed over your shoulders, planted by Choso who now walked beside you. "You'll get a cold being out here in your pyjamas."

His little hints of affection had become recontextualized in your mind, now instead of thinking he had some buried fancy for you, you could see yourself in his eyes, someone young and needing care. Rocks piled in your stomach and weakly, you thanked him. Even the soft gaze he held you in differed. It was some kind of nostalgia that creased his eyes kindly, a memory of you at a younger age playing behind his eyelids, maybe.

The rocks now piled up to your heart, burying it between pointy— jagged stones. Each silent step the two of you took thickened the awkward sorrow looming over you, until finally, Choso spoke.

"Yuji's been so excited to have you over, you know, he really likes you." He couldn't have picked a worse time to take up the role of matchmaker for the two of you. The implication hadn't seemed to reach you.

“I like you.” You finally freed the words, the piling stones now reaching your throat. It took a confused beat until Choso cleared his throat with a light chuckle and responded.

“I like you, too.” His hand came to rest atop your head, giving you a kind stroke, like he always did, before returning it to his pocket.

But you don’t. The words threatened to spill from your quivering lip. Not like I do.

"Let's head inside." Your short walk had taken you around a loop, now you stood outside the house but you weren't ready to be embraced by the homely warmth yet, you needed to think more.

"I'll be there in a sec." You kindly evaded his attempt to bring you back inside. His warm expression seemed to falter with confusion, but ultimately, he let you go, walking inside without you.

You exhaled, taking a wobbly seat above the road gutter. Little sister. The words haunted you. I like you, but no, I'm not attracted to you, I could never be! You're my little sis after all! Another exasperated sigh left you. Even your faulty confession couldn't lift the weight compressing your chest. You couldn't wait to rip off your bra, although you doubted it would elevate the internal ache.

The rejection wouldn't have been so crushing if you weren't so into him, which anyone could've assumed, but really, you were into him. Your type in men was basically shaped around Choso, having pined for him from such a young age.

Despite attempting to date during high school and the years following, you just couldn't. No man could ever really pull you from your crush, so you were never in relationships long.

But what now? You had the confirmation you'd never be with him, should you date again? Move on with a quick rebound? Go to the club and try hooking up? God you wish you could cry and just hurry up with the grieving process but you were too numb to be misty.

Taking you from the hurricane of your thoughts, steps crunched behind you, but still, you weren't done thinking just yet.

"It's okay, Cho, I'll come back inside in a moment I just—" But it was Yuji standing in the silhouette you thought belonged to Choso. "Oh, sorry." You muttered.

He joined you, sitting atop the gutter. “What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You sighed, face falling into the palms of your hand.

“I’m glad.” You could hardly see ‘glad’ on his face, it was stone, unwavering.

“What?” What exactly was he glad of?

"You finally know how he feels about you."

"Yuji—" Utter mortification. If you'd considered the idea of Yuji knowing about your little crush for a moment longer, you'd likely think huh, I guess he would've known this whole time. He's my best friend after all. But you didn’t have time to think about it, flushing hot blood to your cheeks.

“—Now you can get over this stupid obsession with him.”

Now, finally, the tears could start to form. Yuji's cruelty broke the dam that was your numbness. You stood, him tensing over your quick movement. “Stupid ob—? ugh! You—” A reasonable sentence caught in your throat and you were only able to wave an angry finger at him. Did he really see your feelings that way? Thought that Choso liking you back was such an absurdity? That it was an obsession? You suddenly wondered, if Choso came face to face with your love for him, would he think it was stupid, too?

Yuji swallowed, silently sticking by his rude statement.

“I wouldn’t love him—someone if I didn’t think I could be loved back.” Your voice crumbled. The slight crack tugged painfully at Yuji’s heart and despite the regret that washed over his mind like a cold tsunami, he wasn’t able to utter an apology.

Before the tears burning your eyes could spill, you turned on your heel and began walking inside his home. “Wait—”

“Just let me be, Yuji.”

He’d only left you alone for about an hour.

You'd decided to hide away in his room, after all.

Creaking his door open, Yuji's head peaked through the crack. His eyes fell on you cradling a pillow on his bed, your back to him. Guilt clawed at his gut to know he was the reason you were so upset (truthfully he wasn't, but he sure as hell pushed you over the edge).

Maybe, maybe if he finally told you how he felt about you, you'd understand why he acted so cruelly. What Yuji had conveniently forgotten to consider was the sheer amount of emotions that had currently resided inside you. Another confession? Well, you might just die of a heart attack!

“We should talk—”

“I don’t want to talk, ass.” You picked up the pillow slightly wet with tears and tossed it at him. You weren’t furious with him at least, that was a good sign.

“Look, the thing is, I—”

“No! Get out Yuji—”

“But! Just wait, I have something I need to say.”

"Don't speak!" you held your hands over your ears, kicking another stray pillow at him.

He held his hands up, surrendering himself and his voice to your demands but quickly, he peeped. "Can I at least sleep?"

"Fine." You shuffled across the bed, burying yourself into your usual side and flicking the covers over your head.

With the careful ease of a predator stalking its prey through the long grass, you felt Yuji's hands and knees crater into the bed as he slowly approached his rightful spot beside you. The warmth you developed under the sheet blew away as he lifted them, fitting under the covers with you.

He shifted, finding a comfortable spot on his back staring up at the ceiling. Five minutes went by and the skin on his palms began to itch, the muscles on the back of his neck tightened.

He shifted again, an attempt to reach real comfort. After five minutes of staring at a wall his mouth went dry and his toes curled in irritation.

Again, he shifted, this time, turning to face the back of your head. You let an annoyed puff free whilst his movement crinkled the sheets loudly, one he didn't seem to hear. Five minutes passed and he remained still, but his palms itched, his neck remained tight, his mouth was still dry and his feet were beginning to cramp.

You remained in a tense, motionless lay, eyes unknowingly shut tightly, begging sleep to take you far, far away from your body.

The covers softly crinkled again, but Yuji hadn't moved. You realised the sound was his arm moving as he pressed a light hand to your back, a silent ask. Will we cuddle tonight, or are you still mad? The question soon turned into a bribe as his palm pressed into the stressed muscles in your back.

You allowed him to work his apology into your skin, thumb tracing the muscles beneath your shoulder blades back and forth, creating a relieving rhythmic pattern. I'm sorry.

He continued grinding his palms against the soft tendons of your back. I'm sorry I was such a dick.

Sliding lower, he pressed into the thin muscles of your lower back. It's because I'm in love with you.

But when his hand began to lose motivation and slip from you at your unforgiveness, you sighed, reaching to pull his hand over you. You forgave him, kinda. He grasped your tummy, pulling you into his chest and his glowing warmth.

Friends cuddle all the time, okay? It's pretty normal. Thank you very much.

You could feel his breath pat the side of your neck and his hand occasionally twitch whilst holding you. It was normal, Yuji's always had a slight twitch in his fingers whenever you felt him hold you.

“If you had a boyfriend, would we still do this?” His low words rumbled from his chest into your tender back.

"I thought you agreed to no talking." You responded.

"Sorry." A deafening silence followed his swift apology that basically begged you to answer his question.

"If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't need this."

Again, his hand twitched.

"And if you had a girlfriend, you wouldn't need it either." It was true, and fair. Friends who cuddle only do it because they need a substitute partner, right? "G'night, Yuji."

"Night."

You weren't sure you had fallen completely asleep by the time you awoke, because when you checked your phone, you were face with the time being eleven PM. Fuck, you'd really had an early night. No wonder you hadn't slept long. Your throat ached to be soothed with cold water, prompting you to get up and poor yourself a glass.

You left the warmth of Yuji's arms, immediately regretting your decision to quench your midnight thirst. Lazily, you searched the floor for Yuji's red hoodie and placed it on.

The kitchen light illuminated your pathway to the tap and you wondered if Choso had accidentally left it on before going to bed, but you were greeted with him when you entered the kitchen.

"Oh, hey." Your voice came out in a groggy crack.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"Just thirsty."

Choso eyed you, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. You looked so cute drowning in his brother’s jumper, it warmed his heart and cheeks. “Good to see you and Yuji finally got together.”

The excitement in his words stabbed at your chest and you could feel yourself plummet into sadness again.

“I was starting to worry that you two had a fight.”

“You’re wrong.” You attempted to state the words with a strong intent, however a quiver ripped the will from you. “I don't like him, Choso.” Your burning eyes threatened your already raw cheeks. “It’s you.” You hiccuped. “Please don't think I love someone else.”

In a swift rush, Choso had reached you, bending to catch your eyes. His hands hugged your arms gently. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, softly mumbling your name. "I'm so sorry I didn't know—"

He wiped away the salty drops that pooled in the corner of your eyes, his upturned expression guiltily taking in your devastated shake.

“It’s you, I love you.” You uttered again, chanting the statement that hung around your heart.

He pulled you into his chest, cradling your head in a solid embrace that lasted until your shaky breaths subsided. You pulled away from him, noticeable tear stains watering his clothes.

He took a deep, regretful inhale and you knew the words he was going to utter. “I've always thought of you as—"

“I know. It’s so obvious.” You stated in a huff, almost laughing at yourself for having thought otherwise.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured.

“Choso,” you finally looked into his eyes, finding a sorrow lacing his dark browns, but still, his gaze was so soft, affectionately taking you in. It made your heart clench. “Does me telling you I love you, make you happy? Even a little bit?”

A beat rung out as he considered your question. “It does. Thank you.”

“Choso, will you kiss me, please?” His brows furrowed further and his lips parted to utter a polite no, but you begged again. “Please. Just so I know what it feels like.”

And Lord knows he couldn’t say no to you.

Both his large hands came to cup around your cheeks, his thumbs lightly pressing into the sides of your mouth. He dipped his head down as he angled your jaw. His lips were just as soft as you imagined they'd be and the way he kissed you with such sweet sensitivity was heavenly. Your heart stung with the melancholy of it all.

He broke away, lidded eyes solemnly staring at your tear bleached cheeks. His expression filled with utter guilt, completely ashamed he was the one making you feel this way. He pressed another, deeper kiss to your lips. As if begging that his lips would heal you, despite knowing deep down they’d likely make you yearn for him more.

The pity became too much to bear, so you let yourself fall away from his kiss. A sweet smack sounding at your lips separating.

His hands lingered until you began to speak. "Thank you, Choso, I..." You had nothing else to say.

"You should head back to bed, I'll... see you tomorrow."

He left you with those weak words filled with regret. You could practically feel the sickly feeling in his stomach as he walked to his room, metaphorical tail between his legs and head hanging low in shame.

What would did it feel like to kiss you? His little sister? Expect you weren't his little sister, you weren't apart of his family and most importantly; You were grown. You could go and do whatever the hell you wanted. So you did. To the only place that would accept a broken hearted girl with a fierce desire to get drunk. You were going put that damn miniskirt to use.

Yuji somewhat realised you were absent from his bed when he heard the front door of his house shut. You went to the bathroom, probably. Although, the longer he waited, the more he thought about it and laid there without your weight, the less asleep he really was.

When an hour passed and you still weren't back in his arms, he finally sat up and checked the time. Midnight. He first wandered the house in search of you, checking the bathroom, kitchen, lounge. You weren't there.

His heart hadn't dropped as much as you would expect it had, it merely ached because in truth, Yuji had a feeling he knew where you had gone. Checking your phone's location only confirmed his theory.

However that guilty ache developed into an aggravated disappointment during the drive to you.

His expression was scrunched with frustration by the time he reached the club, having spent $15 dollars just to enter and find you. He pushed past wobbly, half naked bodies, searching for your hair, your skin, hell he even tried to smell you over the stench of artificial smoke and spilled fireballs.

He found you tucked away in a corner, surrounded by smoothly dancing drunks, you fit perfectly into the moving crowd, having the alcohol serging your veins lull you into a swooning dance. Despite easily falling into the sea of people, to Yuji you were outstanding.

The peach haired boy became keenly aware of you in your perfectly blissful state; the flickering neons shining against your glistening skin, the way your lashes fluttered at the brightness and how your lips remained parted, puffing hot air and occasionally sipping at the almost empty glass in your hand. Wide eyed, Yuji soaked the image into the deepest part of his mind, remaining unblinking until his eyes began to burn with smoke.

Yuji had gone completely stiff against the grinding bodies and despite your inebriated condition, you had turned towards the intense aura piercing you. As though the moment passed in slow motion, the two of your eyes locked past the haze and lights. You had come to a halt, hand going weak around the glass of alcohol.

Unaware of their space, another body bumped into you, sending you stumbling forward and into another group of people who rejected to support you. You’d gone dizzy now, reaching the peak of blackout and it sent waves of disorientation over your eyes.

Now by your side, Yuji had taken you into him, holding you with a firm almost too-tight grip. His fingers cratered into the skimpy outfit you threw together before leaving, grabbing at your plush waist. You sighed against his steady, hard person. Your hand was empty now, no longer clutching your drink but being rested over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, cmon.” And despite the room thudding with music you heard his words with a calm clarity.

You came to outside the club, cool air kissing your bare legs and face. Your arms, however, were protected by a large red hoodie. You closed your eyes at the sudden vertigo, unable to remember how exactly you’d left the dance floor.

“Did you take something in there?” Yuji asked, you turned to see him sitting beside you, a wide eyed serious stare drowning his beautiful features.

You were mad at him, you quickly remembered. “No.” You brooded, leaning away from him and averting your eyes.

He sighed, relieved to see some emotion seep through your glossy eyed, dazed drunkenness. “Why are you here? And by yourself, Jesus, do you know how stupid—”

“Why are you here.” You returned, slurred venom drooling your tone.

“To make sure you’re safe, and bring you home.” He squeezed your shoulders and you realised he'd had his arms around you the entire time.

Hotness pooled around your eyelids and you slowly blinked away the wetness. “I wan’ to keep dancing.” You tried to shoulder his arms off you, failing miserably when he held you tighter.

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He pleaded, searching for your eyes.

“I don’ wanna talk about it.” You murmured, the searing tears now falling from your eyes and to the concrete floor you stared at.

Yuji exhaled quickly, the sight of your glistening tears sucking the air from his lungs. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? It was rude.”

“’s not that, Yuji.” You gave into his hold, letting him pull you into his warmth and smell. “He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t even see me that way. I was so stupid.”

His heart ached to see your wet, bruised eyes, the raccoon ringlets of mascara, the smear of lipstick.

“Am I ugly? Why doesn’t he like me?” The way you looked at him, your eyes wounded, pleading, inarticulate, it made his heart lurch.

He hugged you, so tightly that the bones in your back groaned.

"Stop it Yuji," You sobbed, weak hand swatting his back. He continued to hold you. "You're makin' me feel worse." You hiccuped violently, chest surging and pulling.

"Don't think about him, it's not worth it, he's not worth it. He's— Fuck." He was trying to find a tone, an adult rhythm of speech, and failing. Your shivering and sobbing had regressed him.

“Just—Jus' take me home, Yu.”

And he did, but not to his home, to yours. Empty, with nobody but the two of you.

You remember slipping, but not making any contact with the hard floor. Yuji had held you close, his arm basically attached to you, being the pillar of your nonexistent balance.

You were now in the bathroom, bright lights yelling at your hazy eyes.

“You should shower, sober up.” Yuji hoisted you up by your hips and placed you on the bathroom sink, giving his side a much needed break from supporting you.

“No.” You leaned back, lazy eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

“C’mon, please stop being like this.”

“Help me then.” You threw him a bone, letting into his ask of you.

He exhaled, relieved. “Okay, fine.” Delicately his fingers pinched your skin tight shirt, hesitating to lift. You raised your arms lazily, giving him the consent he was looking for. The shirt slowly rose over your hips, tummy then chest. Yuji let it fall to the corner of the bathroom. His eyes avoided your boobs, like he would be cursed if he copped a look. Instead he intensely glared at your face.

“S’okay, you can look.” You murmured. Yuji shook his head in disagreement, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing at your cupped tits. You huffed a laugh at his weak will. Truthfully you enjoyed the attention. You hated that you enjoyed it.

“Sorry.” He took a step back and breathed. “Look, for what it’s worth, I think you looked pretty. The skirt is cute.” You hadn’t known you craved that compliment until it filled your aching heart with flushing blood.

“Jus’ take it off.” You slurred. He did so slowly, shaken hands unbuttoning then unzipping the skirt, slipping the short garment off with ease. This time, he didn’t even hide his gaze as he stared at your underwear. He swallowed, jaw tensing.

“Can you take the rest off?” He asked, a little desperately.

“No.” You droned.

“Then I guess you’re showering in your underwear.” He finished, freeing himself from responsibility. You groaned.

He gazed at your lidded eyes intensely, trying to gauge your soberness, were you just playing with him? Were you really that drunk? You hated the silence, you wanted more from him.

“So do you like me or what?” You prodded his heart. You knew the answer. You supposed you always knew. You just never wanted to hear it until now.

“Yes. I do.” He swallowed thickly. It made him nervous when he could feel his heart beating in his ears, and wrists, as well as in his chest.

“Don’t believe you.” You muttered, swatting his arm pathetically. It was a dangerous game you were playing, insinuating you couldn’t dare to imagine someone— anyone— him— having feelings for you.

"Believe it." He warned, playfulness evading his intention.

"No." More, you wanted to tease more out of him like a comb knotting straight hair.

His hands grasped at your nude sides and he kissed you. Harsh and desperate, he was proving a point. Through your fluttering eyes you could see his were screwed shut in angered focus. He was making out with your mouth, licking up the remnants of alcohol on your tongue and teeth. Compared to his brother, Yuji was sure and feverent. He wanted you, so desperately.

He seemed like the one with the stupid obsession now.

"Shower."

You allowed his order, adding your own. “Stay. I might fall.”

Stepping into the hot water substantially dinted your drunkenness, bringing a hot clarity to your mind. The running water falling down your skull was a constant tapping reminder that this was happening, or it was going to happen.

You could see Yuji's form through the fogged glass, his back turned from the shower. You wondered briefly, was it out of respect for your naked body that he turned away from you, or maybe, was it for his own sanity?

The steamed water cleaned your face of ruined makeup and the sticky club residue. Your ears still held a slight ring, amplified by the silence surrounding the tapping of water.

When you stepped out Yuji was there to wrap you up in the towel with a turned head. Useless, really. You thought. It'll be gone soon.

In a slow walk, he accompanied you to your bedroom, a silent knowing thickening the air between you. Darkness ate up your view up him, but you could feel the tension permeate off of his body.

“Y’gonna fuck me, Yu?” You asked, staring up at him with dazed eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” His words were hugged by a breathlessness. A shortness of breath that hadn’t stemmed from his lungs, but from his heart.

You both needed it. You needed to be desired, to be wanted, to be loved and Yuji needed to finally take you, feel you, show you how much he loved you.

Again his hands found you, the first points of contact on your still wet body. Next, his lips, hunting your pulse until he reached your mouth. With his unseemly strength supporting you, he dipped you into the bed, his weight following you, pushing you further into the mattress.

You could feel is thick, strong hands on you, feeling, exploring, pulling with helpless desire but no real strength. Multitasking between your lips and feeling for the hem of the towel, unwrapping it from your body.

He stayed for a moment, bringing space between you, staring at you as if he'd never seen you before. Your breasts heaved rapidly. Your face, all flushed and blazed with lust.

"I'm gonna make you feel good." He said, struggling not to pant as he spoke. That would not sound good. That would sound weak, unsure.

Your heart was not breaking anymore. It seemed rather to broil in your chest, melt. You were afraid the heat from your heart might soon destroy your sanity in fire.

And he was so gentle, not tugging or pulling but caressing you with a consideration that was almost prissy. Fingers rolling down your damp tummy, hesitating just before your hip bone.

You spread your legs, inviting him to your aching middle. The offer knocked the air from his lungs and he knew only your taste could allow him to breathe again.

Like you were his salvation, Yuji kneeled at the end of your bed, his face pressed up against your longing, breathing in your scent. His hot exhales patted your sex, dragging you into a moment of utter desire and need.

His breath came closer, until the thick humidity closed and he pressed a wet kiss to your clit. The melodic sigh of ease lifting from your mouth tugged on Yuji's already stiff dick, making him suddenly aware of his own arousal. That was for later, for now, he was starving.

He pressed another moving kiss to your bundle of nerves, adding a smooth swipe of his tongue. Another symphony played from you and he drowned himself in your cunt, playing with you like an instrument. His wet, sucking pampering your leaking sex.

The intensity ripped a twitch from your hips but Yuji caught your thighs before you could jut away.

You leaked such a bitter sweetness, it was too perfect. Food would never taste the same now that he'd had you in his mouth. Live, squirming and moaning so beautifully. When your hand came up to rake though his messy hair, he fell deeper into your cunt.

His make-out with your sex had fallen into the perfect rhythm, sending clean jolts of pleasure throughout your body, you hadn't needed to concentrate or hold your breath to be forced up the hill of your orgasm, Yuji was walking you up with utter ease.

His tongue only occasionally dipped to your chasm to drink up the slick leaking from you, but as he dipped past a single ring of your insides, a selfish desire to feel more arose.

He shifted and you felt a warm pressure circle your chasm. Your cunt was already sucking in the two thick fingers he offered you. He slipped in further, sliding along your tickling nerves, massaging you closer and closer to a release.

The tips of his fingers curled into you, working in perfect time with his mouth until you tensed in preparation around him. Another slight suck and roll over your clit had you cumming on his fingers.

You cursed loudly, a lovingly weak moan of his name leaving you.

The way your walls fluttered around his fingers had his dick jutting painfully in his pants. Now he could finally fuck you.

His weight returned over you, coming back to his rightful place above your naked body. He shed two layers, his jumper and the shirt underneath it. Not because he was feeling hot or sweaty, but because he wanted you to see his tight body and throb. Force into you a sexual attraction and utterly crush your notions of friendship.

It might've been the way he made you cum on his tongue, or the way he took your wrist and made you slide a shaky hand over his abs and chest, maybe it was the way his eyes drooled obsession when he looked at you—perhaps it was a lusted blend of everything— but you could feel the sickening flutter of love butterflies develop in your stomach.

His hand next arrived at the rim of his pants, freeing his erection from the tight confines of his pants. You hardly shied from the sight.

Nothing you haven't seen before, right? Well, the way his blood fat length leaked beads of precum that belonged inside you from his flushed, burning tip was certainly a sight you'd never seen before. He let your eyes linger. It was all for you, all because of you.

He only spared a glance to line himself against your cunt, he cared more to see the way your face would twist to be filled by him.

"Yu— oh fffuck." You weren't sure what kind of rejection would've left your mouth before you felt Yuji enter you, but you were glad it never reached your lips.

Sliding into you was like sliding into some exquisite oil. The white that flashed over his eyes at the sheer— everything— of you blurred his vision for brief moment. He blinked it away quickly, needing to see the way you threw your head back in pleasure.

His size filled you perfectly, reaching each sensitive crevice inside your mushy tunnel, you only wanted more. Yuji sat inside you for a beat, needing a break from the feeling of you sliding around him. He wasn't sure if it was his or your heart he could feel thumping between his legs. The break was short-lived when you began moving your hips in pleading.

He moved with you, using you, but letting you use him as well. The only sounds were the wet sonances of your sex and breathing; his heavy and horse, yours quick and light.

You wondered, if Choso could see you being fucked soft by his brother, would he still say 'good to see you an Yuji got together'? as if Yuji could sense your thoughts by the way your cunt fluttered around him, his fingers dug craters into your side and he spoke.

“You— shit— you thinkin’ about him?” He asked in a thin carping voice, sneering into your neck.

Your lips stayed zipped, unable to lie nor tell the truth.

“He couldn’t— hng— fucken' love you like this.” To stress his statement, Yuji rolled his hip deep into you, pressing a bruising kiss to your cervix. Your hands smacked over his shoulders, clawing his back.

"I know— oh fuck! Yu." Despair in your words, but Yuji worked to fuck it out of you, suckling hickies to your neck.

"I told you I'd make you—hahh— feel good. You feel good, baby?" He wasn't sure where the pet name came from but the moment it rolled off his tongue he knew he'd never use your name again.

His words regressed you into a submissive, panting mess. "Mhm, hngh! yes, Yu." You didn't mean to sound so ravaged and pleased, but your tone made Yuji's eager dick expand more inside you, becoming girthier with blood.

His rhythm finally dissolved into an excited bucking and from it Yuji drunk up your little gasps like a starved man. "You know I love you, yeah? My girl."

You could only nod, unable to even babble a response.

"Say it, hng— say you love me back."

"L-Love you, Yu."

And oh God, your words go straight to his cock, hurling him into a driven frenzy of mushing thrusts that glide right over your g-spot.

He can feel your cunt tighten in preparation, drawing a guttural moan from his stomach. He knew you were going to cum. It was like knowing him all these years had let him memorise your body, inside and out.

"Let me hear it, baby." He cooed softly.

Like an enraptured fizzing firework, your orgasm rolled over you. It bubbled loaded moans up your throat. You cunt fluttered around him, sucking him up, begging him to fill you with his cum. You jump at his sharp canines sinking down into the flushed skin of your neck and he shivered when he feels your nails dig into the sides of his neck.

He couldn't hold himself back anymore, barrelling over the edge as you clamped around him. His cock punctured your cervix in three strong half-way thrusts, leaving kisses of cum across your insides.

You both fucked your fleeting orgasms out on each other, you with rolling hips and Yuji with messy, unfocused thrusts that prodded against your walls mercilessly.

Even when you both came to a panting halt, Yuji still twitched hard and thick inside you.

"You're mine, now." He couldn't even conceal his absent breath. "You're my girl, yeah? M'gonna love you like this forever."

Aside from the proof in the territorial marks decorating your skin, or your gummy cunt being soaked from his cum, you already knew in your heart you were his.

But as his hips drew out in a slide you assumed would mean his exit, then pushed back in, making a circle of frothy cum and slick form around his cock you knew you weren't going to make it out alive without those words tattooed on your tongue.

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anamina0 · 1 month ago

Text

Echoes

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV , Part V , Part VI , Part VII , Part VIII

Summary: It’s not her, you told yourself firmly, gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You’re overthinking. Imagining things.

Warnings/themes : fluff, kissing, very slight explicit content, mentions of weed

Word count: 5.6k

You jumped off the bar counter, landing on the worn wooden floor just as Vi tossed your dress at you with that lazy smirk you were starting to know all too well. You caught it mid-air, quickly slipping it over your head as the relentless banging on the door continued. “Shit,” you mumbled, fumbling to fix your hair, panic making your fingers clumsy. Behind you, Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted slightly. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and when you turned to glare at her, she looked utterly unbothered, her smirk growing wider. “What?” she teased, her tone playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh back, shaking your head as you opened the door, still smiling despite the chaos.

“I forgot my keys,” Revek said, standing in the doorway looking sheepish. His eyes darted between you and the room behind you, and it didn’t take long for him to piece together what he had interrupted. You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let him in without a word. His gaze swept over the bar, the scattered glasses, the half-done cleanup job. He didn’t say anything, but his raised eyebrows said enough.

“Looks like someone got carried away with cleaning the bar,” Revek said sarcastically as he made his way to the back door.

“I think someone’s about to get fired,” Vi whispered, her voice low as she leaned in close to your ear. Her breath was warm against your skin, and you shoved her back with a laugh.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face.

Vi bit her lip, clearly trying to hold back her laughter.

Revek returned, shaking his head as he headed toward the exit. “I was knocking for way too long,” he said, clearly unimpressed.

“Yeah, we got carried away,” Vi said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing,” Revek replied flatly as he walked out the door, leaving the two of you alone once again.

The rest of the night was quieter, the kind of quiet that buzzed with unspoken words. You both worked on tidying the bar, though your focus wavered every time your eyes met hers. She’d glance at you from across the room, her lips curving into a soft smile, and your heart would skip a beat. You started bumping into her on purpose, brushing past her as she collected glasses from tables. Each time, her reaction was the same—a chuckle, followed by her hands on your waist, moving you aside like she was trying to tame a playful dance partner. Only this wasn’t dancing. This was something else entirely. Something you didn’t have the words for but could feel in every charged glance, every stolen moment. The walk home was no different. The streetlights cast a dim glow over the empty roads, and for the most part, the two of you walked in silence. But the tension between you was undeniable. Every so often, you’d glance at her, only to catch her already watching you. Neither of you said anything, but you’d smile, and she’d smile back, and those butterflies you tried to ignore would take flight all over again. When you finally reached the stairs to your apartments, she grabbed your hand, her fingers brushing yours in a way that made your breath catch. You stopped outside her door, but she didn’t let go.

“I can’t let you get home alone,” she said, her voice low and teasing, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. “I’m literally one floor up. I think I can manage.”

Her smirk softened into something sweeter, but she didn’t argue. She followed you up the stairs to your apartment, stopping just outside your door. You unlocked it and stepped inside, half-expecting her to follow. But when you turned around, she was still standing in the hallway, her eyes fixed on you with a warmth that made your heart ache. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing your cheek in the gentlest touch.

“I think that's it for today,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost hesitant.

You understood what she meant. She knew exactly how you felt—how scared you were of moving too fast, of losing yourself in something you weren’t ready for. She wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing. She was just there, taking the steps with you, one at a time.

“It is,” you whispered, leaning into her touch as you closed your eyes. “I didn’t expect to end the night like this.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Was it a bad ending?”

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “No. It was nice.”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, right where her tattoo curved along her skin. Her breath hitched, just for a moment, before her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her warmth seeping into you as you melted into her embrace. You didn’t even try to stop yourself from hugging her back, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory.

“Thank you for understanding, Vi,” you mumbled, your voice thick with emotion. “You’re so… gentle.”

Her grip on you tightened, just for a second. “You’re worth it,” she said softly, her voice steady, sure.

When she finally let go, the warmth of her lingered, spreading through you long after she was gone. Butterflies still danced in your stomach as you closed the door, your mind replaying the night’s moments over and over again.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

The café buzzed with quiet chatter, the occasional clink of cups and the hum of conversation blending into the background. You nudged Ellie with your shoulder, breaking her out of her silent thoughts.

“Well?” you asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “What do you think?”

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed in thought as she hesitated. Finally, she muttered, “She seems… different.” She added a light shrug, clearly trying to keep the mood easy.

“Yeah, she is,” you said, standing up and grabbing your jacket. Ellie followed your lead, pulling on her own. “I remember when we first met. I was still working at that crappy arts and crafts store—God, I hated that place. She just walked in, looking so lost, like a freaking puppy.” You laughed at the memory, heading toward the door. Ellie trailed behind you, hands stuffed in her pockets, but her gaze stayed locked on you, her soft smile encouraging you to continue.

“I walked up to her to see if she needed help, but the second she started talking, her whole vibe changed. Like, her gaze—it just flipped. I swear, it was like I was talking to a completely different person. I’ve never seen anything like it.” The two of you exited the café, and as soon as the chill of the late afternoon air hit, Ellie slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing gentle circles against your skin as she listened.

“She started coming around more often,” you continued, your voice dipping slightly, “then one day, she invited me over. She showed me her drawings, and, well… one thing led to another.” You glanced at Ellie, her loving eyes catching yours, and you felt warmth spread through your chest. “Now she’s practically my best friend. Weirdest person I know, though. She’s got the craziest stories.” You laughed, the sound light and genuine, as the two of you made your way back to the apartment you shared.

The walk home was filled with comfortable silence, Ellie's hand never leaving yours. Every now and then, her thumb brushed against your knuckles, the subtle gesture grounding you in a way that made your heart flutter. When you finally reached the apartment, you pushed the door open, stepping inside and shrugging off your jacket. Ellie followed close behind, her boots thudding softly against the floor. As you caught sight of yourself in the hallway mirror, you frowned, noticing how messy your hair had gotten in the cold wind. Reaching up, you started fixing it, but as you adjusted a stray strand, you caught Ellie’s reflection behind you. She was watching you intently, her expression unreadable at first, but then her lips curved into a small, crooked smile. She stepped closer, her presence almost magnetic.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could reply, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your ear.

“Mhm,” you managed, your voice catching in your throat. Her touch completely threw you off guard.

“You are,” she insisted, her lips trailing lower, planting feather-light kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Ellie…” you whispered, her name barely audible as your breath hitched. She didn’t stop. Her hands slid around your waist, nimble fingers slowly unzipping your jeans.

“Shhh,” she hushed, her voice low and commanding, sending another jolt of heat through you. Her hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, her fingers brushing against your already wet core, her touch electrifying.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“Shit.” The word slipped out as your eyes fluttered open. The morning light didn’t bother you as much as the realization of where your thoughts had gone. Her. Again. You dragged a hand across your face, hoping to wipe away the remnants of a dream you didn’t want to admit you’d had. It was her, always her. As if she’d carved out a permanent place in your mind, one she visited uninvited. But this time felt different. That familiar ache, the longing for her, seemed to be fading, replaced by something sharper. Anger. She had already wrecked your life once, shattered it like glass, leaving you to piece it back together alone. And now? Now, even from afar, she still managed to haunt you, to stir up chaos where you wanted peace. You clenched your jaw, wishing more than anything to tear her memory out of your head.

Especially now.

You thought of someone else—her. Someone new. Someone who had slipped into your life in a way you hadn’t expected. Someone who made you feel alive in ways you didn’t know you still could. She wasn’t perfect; far from it, actually. Infuriating at times, quick with sharp, sarcastic remarks . She could be reckless, explosive, and maddening. But there was something about her—something raw and honest.

And beautiful.

God, she was beautiful.

Her face crept into your mind, unbidden. Light blue eyes, piercing and electric, capable of softening in rare, quiet moments. The curve of her nose, the strong lines of her jaw, and those tattoos that seemed to tell a story you were desperate to understand. Her muscles—lean and powerful—moved like they carried the weight of the world. And when she touched you. Even a fleeting brush of her hand seemed to burn itself into your skin, leaving you breathless.You shook your head, catching yourself smiling like an idiot.

“SHIT,” you muttered again, this time with more exasperation than frustration. It was ridiculous, the whole thing. A mess of feelings tangled up in someone who was so far from uncomplicated. The sharp scrape of a chair against the floor grounded you, breaking the trance. You pushed yourself out of bed and headed for the kitchen, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. As you cracked eggs into a pan, the irony of it all hit you. Here you were, trying to rebuild your life, to move forward. And yet, your mind was still a battleground. One ghost wouldn’t leave, and another figure—a very real one—was taking up more and more space every day.

All day at work, your mind refused to stay in the present. Every time you wiped down a table or carried a tray, your thoughts drifted back to her—to Vi. Last night’s moments played over and over again, a mix of warmth and uncertainty stirring in your chest. But one thing was clear: it was your turn now. She’d been so gentle with you, so careful, and all you wanted was to show her the same. She deserved to know how much you wanted this… whatever this was.

On your way home, you stopped at the corner market, grabbing a few sweets that caught your eye. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a start. You clutched the bag tightly as you walked to her apartment, your steps slowing the closer you got. And then you were standing in front of her door, heart pounding in your chest.

You hesitated.

What if this was a mistake? What if you were pushing too much, too soon? But then you thought of her, the way she smiled at you, the way she held you so gently last night, like you were something precious. You couldn’t back out now. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly, just a few taps, as if testing the waters.

You waited. Nothing.

Biting your lip, you knocked again, this time louder. Still, no answer. The silence in the hallway felt deafening, pressing down on you like a weight.

“Maybe she’s not home,” you mumbled to yourself, backing away slowly. But as you turned to head to your own apartment, the doubts crept in.

What if she was home and just didn’t want to see you? What if she regretted last night? What if she thought this was a mistake? Maybe you scared her off. Or worse, maybe she was at some bar with another girl, someone less complicated, someone who wasn’t as broken as you were. You slammed your apartment door shut behind you, leaning against it as your chest tightened. The thoughts wouldn’t stop.

“Why would she want someone like me?” you muttered, pacing the room. “Why would anyone want to deal with all this? broken pieces of what could be a person"

The panic bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. You couldn’t take it anymore—the overthinking, the fear, the ache in your chest. You needed to calm down. Then you remembered the stash of weed tucked away in your drawer. It wasn’t much, but it would help take the edge off.

Minutes later, you were on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp the only light in the room. The smoke swirled around you, the quiet hum of your breath the only sound. You took a long puff, then another, letting the haze settle over you like a blanket. Your racing thoughts began to slow, blurring together until they were almost incoherent.

But still, glimpses of her snuck through the fog. Her face, her laugh, her touch—they lingered, like a faint melody you couldn’t shake. You reached for the bag of sweets, unwrapping one and popping it into your mouth.

“You don’t even know if she likes these,” you muttered, scoffing at yourself. “Why would you buy something you’re not even sure she’d want?” You grabbed another, chewing absentmindedly as your thoughts drifted. “What does she like?” you wondered aloud. “Street food, probably. She seems like the kind of person who’d get fries from a truck at 2 a.m. And blue… she’d like blue. It suits her.” You smiled to yourself, thinking of her tattoos, her strong hands, the way her voice softened when she spoke to you. “She probably loves boxing. She’d be amazing at it,” you mused, picturing her in the ring, confident and unstoppable.

And then the knock came. It was soft but deliberate, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. Your heart leapt in your chest as you sat up, the bag of sweets tumbling to the floor. For a moment, you just stared at the door, frozen.

Could it be her?

You stood, your legs unsteady as you walked over. Slowly, you opened the door, and there she was. Vi stood in the hallway, her hair slightly messy, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile when she saw you, her light blue eyes flicking down to the bag of sweets on the floor.

“Hey,” she said, her voice low and warm.

“I knocked like 5 times.”

You blinked, your mind struggling to catch up. “I—uh—didn’t hear it,” you stammered, stepping aside to let her in.

Vi glanced around your apartment as she walked in, her presence immediately filling the space. She noticed the faint smell of smoke lingering in the air and raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Something like that.”

Her gaze softened as she stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “You okay?”

The concern in her voice made your chest tighten, and suddenly, everything you’d been feeling threatened to spill out. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing hard.

“I, uh… I brought these for you,” you said, gesturing to the sweets on the floor. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just… guessed.”

Vi crouched down, picking up the bag. She pulled out one of the candies, inspecting it with a small smile before popping it into her mouth. “Not bad,” she said, her voice light. “But next time, just ask me.”

“Next time?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat.

She grinned, her hands sliding down to take yours. “Yeah, next time. I’m not going anywhere.” And just like that, the doubts, the fears, the panic—it all faded away. Standing there with her, her hands warm against yours, you felt the butterflies return, fluttering wildly in your chest. The room felt like it was spinning, the world soft and blurry from how high you were. You slouched back into the couch, your limbs heavy, your head tilting lazily as you looked at her. She stood near the window, her face lit by the faint streetlights outside.

“I mean, you have to smoke,” you mumbled, your voice sluggish but steady. You waved vaguely toward her. “I can’t be alone like this.”

Her laugh was soft, but it had that playful edge that made you focus on her. She walked over, slow and calm, like nothing in the world could rush her.

"I don’t mind,” she said, sliding onto the couch beside you. She reached over to the ashtray, plucking the joint sitting there, and with a spark of her lighter, took a long drag. Her exhale drifted through the room, curling into the air between you two. The moment felt still, almost too quiet.

“I thought you were ignoring me,” you blurted suddenly, a mix of nerves and blunt honesty spilling out before you could stop yourself.

She glanced at you, that smirk pulling at her lips. “I wasn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just… helping a friend with something.”

“You’re always so secretive,” you said, turning to face her more. She didn’t reply, not right away. Instead, she grabbed the bag of candies , tossing one into her mouth casually. Her cheek puffed out just slightly as she chewed, the moment annoyingly nonchalant.

“You’re sharing something,” you mocked her lightly, narrowing your eyes. “And then you go right back to being mysterious again. Typical.”

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she popped another candy into her mouth. “Thought you said these were ’just okay.’”

Her words made you laugh, and it almost annoyed you how easily she got under your skin.

“You’re funny. I’ll give you that,” she said, turning slightly to face you now, her grin still faint but there.

“Oh yeah?” you leaned in just a little, the playful teasing in your tone impossible to hide. “What else am I?”

She tilted her head like she was actually thinking about it, but there was something sharp behind her smile.

“You’re kinda annoying sometimes,” she said, with that pretend innocence that had your stomach twisting. “Like, you have to be in control of everything happening around you.” She paused, as if adding more weight to her words. “And, you can be infuriating—actually unbearable sometimes.”

You scoffed, pretending to be offended, but before you could fire back, she continued, her voice softening in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“But,” she said, her tone lower now, more serious, “you’re really smart. You don’t miss anything. Like, you can read people—read me—before I even realize what I’m feeling.” Her eyes flicked to yours, lingering a moment too long. “It’s… sexy.”

You couldn’t speak. Her words, the way she looked at you, the softness in her voice—it left you frozen, but also craving more.

“And you’re brave,” she continued, leaning in slightly. “Brave in that reckless, impossible way. You never back down. No matter what’s in front of you.” There was something raw in the way she said it, something that hit deeper than you expected.

Her hand drifted to the couch, brushing close to yours but not quite touching. Her eyes dropped, lingering on your lips as her voice softened even more.

“And you’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Her words made your heart pound. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—not after hearing all that. Slowly, carefully, you leaned in, closing the small space between you until your lips brushed hers.She didn’t pull away. She leaned into you, letting the kiss grow deeper. Your lips moved together slowly, each touch more electric than the last, her breath soft against your skin. When you finally pulled back, it was just an inch, but enough to make her lean forward like she didn’t want the kiss to end.

“You ignored what I said,” you teased, voice low, barely above a mumble.

She let out a shaky breath, clearly thrown by the moment. “Fine,” she said, her voice quiet but steady now. “Ask me anything you want.”Maybe it was the high. Maybe it was the warmth of her body next to yours. Whatever it was, the words came out before you had a chance to second-guess them.

“Who’s Cait?”

Her whole body stiffened, and for a second, you thought she wouldn’t answer. But then, she turned to you, her expression carefully unreadable.

“Only girl I’ve ever loved before,” she admitted, her voice soft but clear.

“Your ex?” you asked, trying to add a playful edge to lighten things. “Tell me she’s your ex.”

She gave a short laugh, but it sounded a little off. “We weren’t actually together,” she said, almost like she was ashamed of it.

“Oh, damn,” you muttered, blinking in surprise. “Ouch. That must’ve hurt. What happened? Let me guess—she was in love with someone else or something?”

Her eyes flicked to the floor, and she sighed before answering. “How do I even say this?” Her voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “She… she got me out of prison.”

Your jaw dropped. “Prison?! Wait, hold up. You were in prison?”

She let out a faint laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching. “For eight years.”

“EIGHT YEARS?! When—how—what the hell?” You sat up straighter, the words spilling out in disbelief.

“I was fifteen when I got there,” she said with a shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal.

You stared at her, trying to piece it all together. “Wait, hold on. You’ve been in prison since you were a kid? What even happened?”

She shook her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll tell you everything. But not now, later,” she said firmly. Then, her voice dropped, just slightly teasing. “It’s my turn now anyway.”

You felt your stomach twist as her gaze turned sharp again. You already knew what was coming.

“Who’s Ellie?” she asked.

Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, the question hitting deeper than you wanted to admit.

“Stealing my question , huh?” you joked weakly, trying to stall. But the look in her eyes said she wasn’t letting it go.

“She’s the only girl I’ve ever loved,” you admitted finally. Your voice sounded strange to your own ears, raw and vulnerable.

“And?” she pressed gently.

“We were together for three years. Then, one day, she just… left.” You paused, swallowing hard. “She packed her bags while I was at work and just walked out. No goodbye. No explanation.” You hesitated before continuing. “She… left me wondering what I did wrong. And here I am.”

You stopped, glancing up at her. Her eyes were soft, and there was something in the way she looked at you that made you feel like the pieces of you might actually be okay one day.But before you could get lost in the moment, you asked what was burning at the edge of your thoughts. “Why was Cait looking for your sister?”

The question made her freeze again. She looked away for a moment, as though gathering herself. And then, she started to talk. Her story came out slowly, piece by piece. She told you everything—about Cait, her sister, and the impossible choices she had to make. It was one of the wildest, saddest, and most intense stories you’d ever heard. And yet, as she spoke, something deep in your chest began to stir. There was something about her story, it was like you heard it somewhere else, but couldn't quite gather where.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“I always had a feeling she couldn’t be trusted,” she mumbled, her raspy voice carrying just enough weight to make you glance her way. She was lounging in her usual devil-may-care style, legs stretched out, boots resting obnoxiously on the table.

“Well, I can’t say the same thing about me,” you muttered with a sarcastic chuckle, though the sadness in your voice betrayed you. You weren’t exactly hiding it well.

“Tell me about it,” she quipped, leaning back even further in her chair as if the entire world bored her. Her smirk was infuriating, her tone always teetering between teasing and dismissive. “So, what now? You gonna sit at home all day, dreaming about what could’ve been? Scribble some tragic poetry, maybe cry a little?”

“Shut up, Faye,” you groaned, shoving her boots off the table with a little more force than necessary. She stumbled slightly. She could be impossible, always in her own chaotic orbit, dragging you into her storms. But she was your best friend—your only friend—and that meant you put up with her.

“Go ahead, take it all out on me,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Like I’m the one who broke your heart and left you in pieces.” She reached for something random on the table, fiddling with it, probably just to keep herself entertained. Then, with a flicker of mischief in her eyes, she added, “Want me to mess her up? Like, real bad? I could do that, you know.”

“What? No!” You snapped your head toward her, heart skipping a beat because, knowing Faye, she wasn't bluffing. “Don’t you dare! I mean it.”

“Sheesh, relax,” she said with a lazy grin, waving you off like your concern was completely unwarranted. “I was just joking.” She paused, giving you a sideways glance. “Mostly.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Faye was… Faye. Beneath all her reckless bravado and endless sarcasm, you knew she cared. She just had a strange way of showing it.

After a beat of silence, she spoke again, her tone softer this time, less guarded. “Maybe you should do what I did,” she said suddenly, leaning forward just a little. “Get out of this place. Have a fresh start. Forget all the crap tying you down.”

You exhaled deeply, her words hitting a nerve. The thought of leaving—leaving the chaos, leaving her—had crossed your mind more times than you could count. It sounded good, too good. But there was always the same question gnawing at you.

“Where am I supposed to go, though?” you asked quietly, sitting across from her now. Your gaze met hers, searching for some kind of answer. For once, she didn’t shoot back a quip or a smirk. Instead, her eyes dropped as she tucked a strand of her blue hair behind her ear.

“You could go to Zaun,” she murmured, almost like the name itself was a forbidden word.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Zaun? You’ve got to be kidding me. I know next to nothing about that place.”

“You know plenty,” she countered, a bit of her usual sharpness returning. “I’ve told you, like, a billion stories about it. More than enough to survive there.”

You hesitated " Maybe you can come with me" you mumbled

" I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?” you pressed, the idea of dragging Faye along suddenly sparking something hopeful in you. “You said you left some people behind there, like your—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply, her voice hard enough to make you stop mid-sentence.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I can’t go back there,” she said, her tone now angry, maybe even hurt. “I’m better off without Zaun. And Zaun’s better off without me.”

You stared at her, confused and a little stunned. She stepped closer, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen.

“If you decide to go,” she said, her voice low but steady, “you have to promise me something.”

You blinked, unsure where this was headed. “What?”

"You can’t tell anyone about me,” she said, her words almost a whisper now, but they carried the weight of a thousand unspoken things. “Not a single soul. You have to promise me that.” Her eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something raw in them—fear, maybe? Or regret? Either way, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I promise,” you said, though you weren’t entirely sure who you were promising to protect—Faye, or yourself.

𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

“You okay?” Vi’s voice pulled you out of your swirling thoughts. It was soft, but it struck like a jolt to your system. Your heart skipped a beat as your brain scrambled, clinging to distant memories that shouldn’t have been there.

It can’t be right, you thought. No, it can’t.

“Hey?” Vi said again, and this time her hand grazed yours. The small gesture made you flinch slightly, but it also tethered you to the present.Her brows knitted together, “Did I say something wrong?” Her voice had a slight edge of worry now, and that only made the heavy knot in your chest tighten further. You forced yourself to breathe, to focus, blinking a few times before your eyes finally met hers. Her worried expression only made your heart sink deeper.

“I’m…” You paused, the lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding. “I’m okay,” you lied, quickly pressing a fake smile onto your lips like armor.

She didn’t look convinced. Not even a little.

“I just need a glass of water,” you muttered, avoiding her eyes.

Before you could get up, Vi stood quickly, not hesitating for even a second. “Wait, I’ll get it,” she offered, already making her way to the kitchen. You stayed frozen, your body heavy against the couch. The sound of running water trickled through the quiet space, but your thoughts drowned it out completely.

It’s not her, you told yourself firmly, gripping the edge of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. You’re overthinking. Imagining things.

“Here.”

Her voice sliced through the chaos in your head like a razor. You looked up just as she handed you the glass of water, her expression softer than you’d expected.

Vi tilted her head slightly, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle she didn’t understand. Her lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but instead, she stepped back, leaning against the side of the couch with her arms crossed.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.

You nodded too quickly, taking a sip of water even though your hands were unsteady. “Yeah, totally fine,” you said, trying to sound casual.

But Vi didn’t buy it. Not even a little. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, intense and searching, and it made your pulse quicken.

“You’re a terrible liar, y’know,” she finally said, her tone laced with that same mix of teasing and concern she always seemed to master.

“I’m not lying,” you shot back, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

Vi arched a brow, leaning slightly closer. “Right. And I’m the queen of Piltover,” she said, smirking faintly.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips, even if it was half-hearted.

The humor faded as quickly as it came, and her smirk softened, her head tilting as she studied you. “You were out of it for a second there,” she said. Her voice dropped, softer now. “What happened? What were you thinking about?”

Her question caught you off guard. You stared at her, the words building in your throat but refusing to come out.

“I just…” You hesitated, your grip tightening on the glass. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she pressed gently, her gaze steady. “You don’t just zone out like that for no reason. If it’s not nothing, just tell me.”

You looked down at the water, watching the small ripples sway as your hands trembled faintly.

" it's nothing Vi, really " you lied once agin

Vi raised a brow but didn’t push. You looked at her again, studying the quiet strength in her expression, the way she was watching you so carefully. She didn’t look annoyed or impatient—she looked like she genuinely cared.

And that only made the storm in your chest worse.

Author's note: I'm not saying anything... just waiting for YOUR RESPONSE 👀Don't hesitate to message me, we can talk about it.

P.S. next chapters might take longer because I kind of wrote them before hand, I was just adding details, plus I had free time. I know where story is goinh but, writing such long fic is hard , so I might take a longer, I don't know for sure. But your response has been nothing but amazing! seriously , thank you anyone wro reads, comments, shares my story. your support means world!

#arcane #ellie williams #ellie x you #vi x reader #vi x you #violet x reader #vi arcane #violet arcane #vi arcane x y/n #vi arcane x you #vi x y/n #vi arcane x reader #vi #violet arcane x you #violet x y/n #violet x you #violet arcane x reader #enemies to lovers #fluff

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bonbonly · 1 month ago

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬

a/n: this is for my desi girls, and my first full length proper fic! translations are at the end of the fic, so just scroll down whenever you see something in spanish! pairing: king!carlos sainz x apsara!female!reader ; tw: fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk in spanish, use of slut in spanish word count: 6k apsara definition: a supernatural female being, either the mistress of a soul in paradise or a succubus

"hurry up! hurry up!" meenakshi cries out. she's grabbing her saree, wrapping it around her wet body as she cranes her neck around a tree to see if there were any onlookers. you laugh, splashing some water onto her feet which has her squealing, her right foot kicking up into the air before she's stomping her foot, pouting at you, "i'm not kidding, come! what if someone sees us!"

"that didn't stop you the last time when the great sage was walking back home," you tease her, splashing another wave of water. she's blushing at your words, averting her eyes to the small flower besides her. she had been sent by one of the gods to remind this sage that despite the knowledge he had, his arrogance was still that of a mere mortal and to prove a point, meenakshi was sent to illustrate that the sage had not yet controlled his desires like he was supposed to. meenakshi had walked into his hut under the pretense of wanting some water, and walked out with a satisfied grin as the sage's cum dripped down her legs. even with the amount of times she was sent by the gods to fulfill whatever they asked of her, no apsara was more the favorite than you. you were created by many gods, who each spent extra time making sure that you were the perfect apsara to ever exist. their own lust could not be controlled when you stepped out of the flower that you bloomed from, and needless to say, you were their prized possession for a good two weeks before they let you roam the mortal world.

you're in a river, taking a bath like you always did with your friends. renuka had left earlier to collect some fruits, and dhanalakshmi was playing games with the little girls near the village. dhanalakshmi's story was one of pity, though. she yearned to be a normal mortal, to mingle with the others, but an apsara's curse was that their beauty was just too much for a man or woman to handle. the mortals were not ready to live with the apsaras, and that's why their lives were so mundane. you glance over to meenakshi who's still anxiously looking around.

"you worry too much! come, come take another bath with me!" you laugh, swimming on your back. the water surrounded your full breasts, your hair floating like the leaves of a lily flower. meenakshi sent you a scowl, shaking her head,

"you play too much! come, before a mortal sees us! i've been hearing talks from the gods that this one king wants to take over the forest! and he's not even from here!" meenakshi grabs your white saree and brings it over to you, carefully holding it out so that the fabric doesn't get drenched. you stop your movements, letting the still water engulf your frame as you stare at her.

"what do you mean take over the forest? the forest is ours! the gods gave us a place to stay! this is our land, not the mortals!" you cry out.

"i know, i know," she beckons you with her hand to swim over to her, "which is why i'm begging you to come out of the river. we can go pray at the temple near by and see if the gods will answer our concerns!"

you step out of the river, letting the water cascade your naked body as meenakshi is quick to wrap the saree around you. she grabs the flower from the ground, plucking a bit of the stem off before placing it in your wet hair, right above your right ear and then she's holding your hand and navigating through the forest. you hop over some roots, and smile as the butterflies flutter around your hair, kissing your skin. meenakshi turns around and laughs,

"must be one of the former kings who satisfied their lust through you and now they are cursed to be butterflies!" and you giggle in response, cooing to the creatures,

"beautiful nonetheless, are they not? they're always welcome," and the butterflies dance around your head as a form of gratitude at your kindness.

when passing by a long abandoned hut, you see renuka laying there, her clothes on the floor of the forest. she's breathing heavily, a grin on her face as her legs are spread apart, her cunt still clenching around the cum that some mysterious man has offered her. meenakshi and you both scurry over to her, and while your friend is tending to the poor spent girl, you're giggling hysterically as you crouch down to her level.

"someone had fun in the forest without us, hm?" you smile and meenakshi's swatting your arm, a frown on her face,

"stop that! she needs to get back home. why would anyone ever be intimate in the forest, look at her back!" she flips renuka onto her stomach which causes the apsara to giggle a bit dazily. there's marks on her back from being held up against a tree, and you bite your lip, your mind wandering to some very unholy thoughts. renuka's waving meenakshi away,

"no, stop... stop, i'm fine. i'm very much fine, don't worry about me. i was sent by indra to come destroy a saint's abstinence. he was a young boy, couldn't be more than 19. he was good," she pauses, stretching her arms before giggling once more, "really good. (y/n) you would've loved him." and meenakshi's glaring at both renuka and you,

"enough with this nonsense! come now, we have other more important matters to deal with. dhana's waiting for us back at the temple," she stands up and walks away, leaving you to wrap renuka up in her clothes, a knowing smile on both your lips. when you finally get to the temple, dhana's there making a flower garland to place on the deity and she turns to look at her three friends approaching.

"finally! i thought you all would never make it! i was waiting for so long!" she cries out, and meenakshi's rolling her eyes,

"we would've gotten here sooner, but you can already guess what held us back," and she sends a scowl to both you and renuka, who are hiding your laughs with your mouth. dhana sighs, lighting a small lamp before praying carefully. one by one, the apsaras close their eyes, murmuring their concerns and within seconds, a large glow appears in front of you all. you open your eyes first, having always loved to have conversations with the gods. however, you frown, when you see it's god indra, the one you hated the most. he was always teasing you, toying with you in the worst way possible. you pout your lips and turn your head to the side, chest heaving in anger and he's already laughing,

"oh my dear (y/n) come now, don't be like that! i thought you'd miss me!"

but meenakshi, the ever loving friend, clears her throat and saves you from a conversation with him, "we wanted to ask about what's to come of our forest. are the rumors true? will our home be destroyed by a foreign force?"

indra stares into the sky, taking a deep breath in before nodding his head, "i'm afraid the rumors are true. very much true. there's not much we can do to stop him, but we're trying our best to intervene. this is the home we gifted you after all, i wouldn't want any of you to get hurt."

"what do you mean by 'him'? who's 'him', who is he?" you ask, snapping your head to face indra. he's raising his eyebrows, a smile on his lips as he sees your feisty attitude,

"apsara, he isn't like the other men you've dealt with," he clears his throat before continuing, "he's more dangerous, you know? he's a king from a distant place, very distant. he's travelled the seas, he's shown the qualities of a true warrior and for a king who takes acres of land left and right for the expansion of his kingdom, he sure does have morals."

"no man has morals, we have learned that countless of times," dhana chimes, "surely, he is someone that can be defeated, right?"

"of course, of course! but the gods cannot do it without your help! and your help is very crucial, very much so," indra begins and renuka steps forward,

"we'll be very helpful like always, this is just another-"

"this isn't just another scenario," indra scoffs, "i'm worried about you all. for once in your lives, you may be seduced by him, not the other way around."

the apsaras stare at him in disbelief, confusion settling in all their faces. what did he mean by that? no man ever stood a chance against an apsara, and no apsara ever bowed down to another man after the deed was done. renuka turns to look at you, "i think (y/n) should do it. she never cares for any man. her entire world is this forest, she cares more than any of us."

and before you can argue that there's probably a better candidate, the god floats to stand besides you, tilting your chin up with his finger so that you can see his tall stature.

"i was thinking the same thing. come on (y/n) i know we've had our differences in the past, but you know you're always my favorite, you know that right?" he exclaims, gently brushing your cheek. you turn your head away in disgust, snarling at him,

"you're not my favorite. you never have been and you never will. but i'll still do it. not for you, but for my friends. for my home," you respond, and he clasps his hand,

"as long as you do it, i shall be fine," he sighs, and dhana nervously chews on her finger,

"what does he looks like?" she asks, and indra is moving back to where the deity stands,

"you'll know when you see him... she'll definitely know." and just like that he's gone. meenakshi turns to look at you with scowl,

"i now see why you hate him. how will we know? how will you know, (y/n)?"

"i guess i just will..." you whisper, turning on your heel.

dhanalakshmi stopped going to the village outskirts in a long time. renuka rarely ever leaves her small hut, and meenakshi never joins your invitations when you're bathing in the river. so all alone, you swim around, pressing flowers into your hair and laughing whenever the butterflies come back to accompany you.

"you poor creatures," you tease them pointing to a blue one, "i remember you... you tried to trick me, and i convinced the rishis to curse you! look at you, helplessly flying around because you could not get to me. shame, such shame. i might as well let your wings roam over my body, you won't have hands for the next 1000 years."

the butterfly flies up all into your face, making you laugh as you stumble backwards into deeper waters. "someone's upset," you snicker, and the blue butterfly flies away. your eyes follow the insect before it lands on a white steed, neighing. you frown, looking around you to see if any of your friends are there to convince you that you're not dreaming. you swim over to the majestical animal, ducking beneath a broken log when the horse turns to your area. when the horse looks the other side, you slowly raise your head and let your eyes travel along the golden reins. the saddle is that of a rich velvety red, with encrusted gold patterns. when you had once seduced a sage under the orders of one of the gods, the sage had found out and cursed you to be curious. in any other circumstances, this would seem as barely any punishment, but no. no, this was a type of punishment that only your future would suffer from. so with the nagging feeling in your mind, you raise from the water and approach the animal, gently brushing its soft coat. a very well maintained horse, and you're definitely impressed. your fingers dance along the reigns and when you look past the horse, you see a man cutting through the leaves of a bush with his sword. each swing of the weapon makes your heart ache and you feel for the poor plant that's suffering this abuse. you stretch out your hand, about to yell stop when your mind starts buzzing. you feel it in your heart, this is the man that you're supposed to stop. you gulp, realizing that you're not prepared for the occasion and you jump back into the waters which startles the horse.

hearing the restlessness of the horse, king carlos sainz runs towards the sound and he catches a glimpse of you swimming away, your hair chasing after you as if it was your own shadow and he has to blink a couple times because now you are gone. as if you were an illusion. he barely saw anything, but he swore you were naked? with flowers in your hair and a scent that made him crave for more. he shakes his head, turning back to his horse.

"oi, cabron, what's wrong?" he snorts, and the horse snorts back, stomping its foot, "enough with the attitude. come, we have things to do." and he's tugging the reigns, dragging the horse deeper into the woods.

"i saw him, i saw him!" you're pacing renuka's hut, shaking uncontrollably, "i didn't see his face clearly but i know it's him! i was so sure of it! i felt it within me!"

"then why didn't you do something about it?" she asks, and you groan out loud,

"right? when i'm naked after a bath, i should just go up to him and - oh forget it, that's your style. that's not mine!" you hiss, "i like to plan these out, i like to be prepared no matter what happens."

and you know you're prepared when you catch a glimpse of him the next day, and the following few days. you're stalking him, watching him prance around on his horse as you're perched on a tree. you take a bite of an apple, trying to understand his patterns, his mind. what was he doing in your home? to think he could storm in and take what was rightfully yours! the audacity of mankind. and yet as the days pass by, you fear lord indra is right. you're starting to crave this king. his hair looks soft, combed neatly and sometimes the wind pushes his hair back so that you could get a closer look at his big brown eyes. his jaw is sharp, lips big and you nearly fall off the tree ogling at him. renuka, meenakshi and dhana all see him too occasionally when they're hiding behind the trees, and all they can do is fawn over him. his beauty had renuka envying him.

"mortals shouldn't be this beautiful, this is a curse by the gods! they're trying to test us," she scoffs, and you're sighing out loud,

"a test indeed. i don't think i can spend any longer chasing after him. my mind is unwell. do you want to seduce him? i am more than happy to gift this burden to you," you exclaim but renuka shakes her head,

"no, no. the gods have chosen you. they're getting angry that you have not done your duty as an apsara. don't delay it any further, come on (y/n), it's your time now." she informs you, before picking the ends of her saree up and walking back to her hut.

you decide to finally confront the stranger that has been tormenting your mind for the past week. you let your hair down, the biggest hibiscus flower you can find in your hair and you wear your precious anklets, the one that you only wear for occasions like this. you delve into the woods, fingers brushing against the bark of the trees, each with a story of their own. and then you hear the unmistakable sound of someone chopping up leaves and you know it's time for you to spring into action. you move towards the direction of the sound, pushing the big leaves out of your way and you make sure that each step you take is harsh, just so that the music of your anklets can echo through every corner of this forest. as you turn the corner, a warm figure presses against your back, followed by the coolness of the sword against your throat.

"Qué tipo de criatura eres*?" the voice behind you asks, and you stand there, not understanding the language that he's speaking. you remain quiet, and after a few beats he asks you, "mmm, let me help you out, what type of creature are you?"

"i am no creature," you respond, "i live in the woods, this is my home."

"what are you? some sort of bear to be living here?" the voice behind you derides, and his sword's blade digs just a bite deeper into your throat which makes you gasp out loud, "you're a strange creature. what is it about you, hm? i've been seeing you lurking these wooded areas for the past week."

he inhales your scent, the one that he's been craving for an entire week. the one that he smells whenever he knows your nearby, and it drives him insane. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, lips finding the shell of your ear before he begins to nibble, "say, creature, how do you live like this in these woods?"

"this is my home. and once again, do not call me creature. you make me sound as if i am a monster, and the only monster here is you." you hiss, and he's chuckling into your ear, his voice low,

"perhaps, i am the monster, but you fascinate me. why don't you tell me one thing, were you sent by anyone? hm? is this some sort of a game that you and your friends play?" but his questions are met with no responses since you are too focused on the sword against your throat. he seems impressed at your resilience - or stupidity - and he removes the metal, spinning it in his hands before sheathing the sword. you take a step forward, ready to head back home and send meenakshi to do the deed instead but he grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls out back to him, which causes you to wince.

"where do you think you're going?" he's asking you, "i found you, and i want to know more about you."

"this is not the way to do so," you mumble, and he spins you around to finally see your face. you're stricken by his beauty, his features sharp and clear. you cannot help but press your body against his, being drawn to him in a way that you had never done so before. but you know that what you were feeling was wrong. apsaras never found love and if they did, it was doomed from the start. and considering the way this man was staring at you, love was not in the picture but lust sure was. you gulp, pushing him away from you, "you cannot take my home. you must make a promise."

he raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as he's circling you as a predator would to its prey. the butterflies sit on the branch of a tree, eagerly waiting to see what's about to happen. "i cannot guarantee anything, but give me a good reason."

"my friends and i live here. the gods have gifted us this place as our home. no mortal is to ever see us unless we are to carry out a specific duty. mortals cannot usually withstand us, not even the most powerful sages can." you explain, and he's placing his hands on his hips, laughing at your words,

"i'm resisting you, i can stand you. not all mortals are that desperate, mi amor," he stops right in front of you, taking in your appearance. his eyes rake over your body, and he wants to touch you, see if you were real or just a figment of his imagination. but he knows that his words would then be futile. you can see the conflict in his eyes and you smirk for a brief second, and he notices it. he catches it, which makes him even more desperate to have you as his. to tame you, to see what it is about these woodland creatures. he had heard stories from the villagers nearby that the beauty of the forest was to be avoided. he didn't understand it then, but he sure did now. damned be the warnings they gave him, he just wanted a small taste.

you take a step backwards, which causes him to follow suit. you frown, looking around the forest to see if meenakshi would show up but the king grabs your wrist and yanks you close, pressing your body against his once more, "creature, i want you. i need you, right here and right now."

his eyes are blown out due to lust, and you're sure lord indra is happy that you have carried out his request perfectly. you could happily indulge the king all you wanted now. he'd cum in you once and then he'd leave as all the other men had done before. this was nothing new to you. you nod your head, "i shall give myself to you so long as you leave my forest and never come back, never taking what belongs to my friends and I."

"anything you say mi vida, i shall find land elsewhere," he promises, and you're unaware that he's crossing his fingers behind his back. how could he possibly leave this forest when he's seen you now! you bite your lip, eyes glancing to his lips. the ones that you've been dreaming about for a whole week and with much hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips into yours, nipping his bottom lip and tugging every so often which has him laughing at how eager you were being. especially for a creature that seemed disgusted by his presence just a few minutes earlier. he cups your face, making sure you cannot turn away when the kisses become more heated. his lips trail to your jaw, and then down your neck. he kisses over your clothed breasts, down your stomach and then the inside of your thighs. he brings his hands up to grab at the fabric, but the gods must've decided to help you for now the wind is dancing around you. your hair lifts up into a spiral as the garment is slowly unraveling around you as if you were a present just for him, and there you stand naked before him as his mouth is watering at the sight. he shoves you to the ground, and you groan at the feeling of crunch leaves on your back. it wasn't your particular favorite feeling, but there's not much time when he's yanking you by your ankles close to him. he spreads your legs apart, shaking your feet to hear your anklets that are singing into his ears. he kisses your feet, whispering that every step you take on this world must be a blessing to the dirt. you're speechless at his praise, and his lips are inching closer to where you are aching for him. he blows a few cool breaths on your wet cunt, mumbling about how wet you are and if any man in the forest had ever managed to ruin you like he was about to.

"you are probably the 1000th man in my entire life that I have given myself too," you comment, watching his eyes darken, "i doubt you can make yourself memorable, but we shall try."

he takes it as a challenge, feeling his ego get bruised at your words. he’s going to make sure that if you ever bed any other man, you’ll still be craving him. so when you expect him to take out his manhood and call it a day, instead he has his lips around your cunt. he licks through your folds, sucking and pulling your clit that makes you gasp out loud, followed by a very loud moan that shocks even you. you glance down and can only see his black hair masking the sinful actions his tongue is doing. he’s wrapping his arm around your legs, bringing you closer to him as he’s diving his tongue deep into your core, shaking his head against your cunt which has you mewling. when you eventually cum into his mouth, he pulls away and licks his lips, loving the way you’re in shock at how intense the orgasm was. he brings his fingers to your mouth,

“Open for me princesa, i want to feel your spit on my fingers,” and you nod your head, completely under his trance. he smirks at your compliance, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth and dragging it down your body. his touch sends sparks flying through your body and when he shoves two fingers into your tight cunt, you throw your head back and cry out loud,

“you’re doing too much! listen you mortal!” you cannot finish your sentence since he’s curling his fingers, scissoring your cunt. he pulls out and slaps your face, gently,

“Your highness, you must call me your highness,” he grins, shoving his fingers back in you, and you’re tossing your head to the side with a large moan. this man had magic in his hands, there was no other explanation for this! he goes faster, adding a third finger as his thumb toys with your puffy clit. he sees your desperate cries to cum and he leans forward to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking as if he was expecting milk to pour out from you. the gods had cruel ways to manipulate you, and you really hope they do not follow through with whatever this man was lusting for. your thoughts are quickly silenced as you feel that familiar coil tightening within you, and as his fingers slider in and out, curling and spreading the gummy walls of your cunt, you scream out loud as you cum once again, squirting all over his hands. the sleeve of his royal coat is drenched in your juices and he pulls away from your marked chest to stare into your eyes,

“you’re making quite the mess, mi vida. ruining my coat like this. debería castigarte por eso, mi pequeña zorra**” but his words mean nothing as your mind is turning into a blank mushy mess. he lifts you off the ground and places you against a tree. you suddenly remember the marks on renuka’s back a week ago and now you find yourself growing wetter at the thought of what he’s about to do. he runs a hand through his hair, beginning to undress. he tosses his coat, and then his vest and then his shirt onto the horse’s saddle and takes off his pants as well. his cock, once free, springs upwards and hits his stomach before swaying with each step he took towards you. he lifts one of your legs and lets you drape it over his arm while the other leg is made to root firmly onto the ground.

“you’re so wet, fuck,” he groans, sliding his cock against your folds. you whimper, still over sensitive from the previous orgasms but he tunes it all out and lets his aching cock bury into your cunt. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, making sure that the only thing your brain can think about now is the cock that's splitting you in half. he pulls out and slams right back into you, cock burying to the hilt and you're screaming with each thrust, unable to form words. his pace quickens, and he presses his chest against yours, going deeper into your poor cunt as the bark of the tree kisses your back roughly. he hoists both your legs up over his arms and as he's pounding into you, he keeps laughing the entire time.

"creature, i thought you'd be mysterious and quiet!" he brings his thumb onto your sensitive clit, rubbing furiously which has you screaming his title once more, begging him to slow down or else you were going to cum once more. "that's what i want, zorra, i want you to cum a million times around my cock. milk me for what it's worth. 1000 men you say? i do not know much about you, but i know from now on i am never letting any man touch you. damned be what the villagers said, i'm keeping you to myself."

your eyes widen in shock, having never heard someone want to possess you. perhaps this is the mentality of foreigners, wanting to take what wasn't rightfully theirs. you're sure the gods would never someone else take their beautiful creation, but a part of you... a part of you wanted him to take you. to let you go beyond this forest. you bite into his shoulder as you reach your climax, your liquids spewing out once more. he continues to drill into you, prolonging your pleasure. his thumb doesn't stop either, and you're sobbing uncontrollably telling him that you cannot take it anymore, that you cannot physically keep up with him. mortals would tire out before the apsaras, but this man had the strength to match the gods! no wonder indra was so worried about you having to deal with this king!

king carlos pulls out of you, and throws you over his shoulder. you limp against him, feeling yourself growing exhausted but you knew the job was far from done. the man tosses you into the water, and dives right in. he clasps onto your waist and brings you towards another bruising kiss, hands groping and squeezing wherever he could touch. there's a boulder near the end of the stream, and he swims over there with you holding on to his neck. within seconds, he has your face against the rock, ass in the air as he's rutting into you once again. you're losing your mind at this point, thinking that he's bound to make you so cock drunk that you'll never remember any of your friends ever again, only the feeling of the veins on his cock pulsing within your walls as he moves in and out of you. one hand grabs your hair while the other is kneading your ass. he looks down at the sight of your ass bouncing with each of his thrusts and he groans,

"oh creature, you cannot convince me that you weren't made just for my cock." his thrusts are harsher, he's not holding himself back anymore and you're audibly wailing at how you're unable to keep up with him, "mírate, tan hermosa, tan perfecta, tan buena puta de mierda para mí.***"

you don't know what he's saying again, but you can feel another orgasm building up as he's going deeper. it's like he plans on having his cock lodged into your guts permanently at this rate. you shake your head, trying to get up but he pushes you back down with his hand, a firm smack on your ass.

"i c-can't c-cum anymore," you whimper, though you back your ass into his crotch, as if chasing after something you fear might ruin you forever.

"yes, you can, puedes y te correrás para mí****" he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. he grabs your arms and pins them behind your back, pulling you flush against his chest as his cock bullies into you. he licks the tears off your cheek, kissing and sucking at your skin and telling you that you were the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. "i'm going to take you back to my kingdom. i'm going to make you my queen, and you're going to be filled with my cum every. single. day," he punctuates with his thrusts, making you scream out loud as you're orgasming once again, your body shaking. he wraps his arms around you, "i never asked for your name in all of this. i need to know the name of my queen."

as he kisses your shoulder, you're gasping for air as you try to come down from the high, "i-it's (y/n), my name is (y/n)." and he's raising his eyebrows,

"never heard of the name, but it still sounds beautiful. i am king carlos, and i'm going to make you mine," he groans out loud as he's spilling his semen into you. he thrusts into you a couple more times, letting his cum splatter into the walls of your overworked cunt and he pulls out, enjoying the sight of your leaking pussy. he walks around the boulder to head back to his horse, and you see him begin to dress himself.

"if i have you, why would you need this forest, hm?" he asks, glancing at you as he's buttoning his shirt.

"this forest was gifted by the gods for my friends and I to stay safe from mortals. usually those who wander here are punished by the gods through us." you reveal to him, voice still hoarse from all the screaming you just did a few seconds ago. he laughs, a rich laugh, at your words,

"punish? mi vida, if this is your punishment, then i might as well take over your forest. do your friends have sweet cunts like you do? maybe i should get a taste of them all," he snickers, and watches you frown at his words, "don't be jealous, amor. you're the only one i want anyway."

he walks over to you after he's fully clothed, and cups your cheek, "come with me. i meant it when i said i want you as my queen. you won't have to live in this forest, you will have all the luxuries you could ever ask for."

"and this forest?" you ask.

"i'll still take it, but i won't do much harm if you're so fond of it," he replies, but it is not enough for you. consciousness settles into the crevices of your mind, and you realize you have overstayed your welcome with this king. you pull away from his touch, sending one final glance to him before jumping into the waters, swimming away as the butterflies follow you. king carlos watches you flee from him, confused that you just rejected such an amazing proposal. he wasn't even one to do so, and he laughs at his own foolishness to be chasing after some unknown creature in the woods. but his feelings remain the same, he wants you as his, no matter what happens.

as he moves towards his horse, he sees the white cloth that had been adorned on your body and he picks it up, inhaling that scent of yours that made his knees weak. he wraps the cloth around his hand and hoists himself onto his horse.

"i'll find her again one day, and the next time, i won't let her escape. she will be my queen, you hear me?" he says to the horse, who merely snorts and stomps its foot in response.

"oh, shut up," he hisses, before tapping the sides of his shoes against the horse's abdomen, and rides off deeper into the woods.

* what type of creature are you ** I should punish you for that, my little slut *** Look at you, so beautiful, so perfect, such a good fucking slut for me. **** you can and you will cum for me

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cheyisagirlkisser · 2 months ago

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hi chey! your fics are so good jfc. i would looove to see a fic with Vi where the reader really worships her and her body during sex, her tattoos and muscles everything! thank youuuuu <3

HIII SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! I had the first paragraph collecting dust in my drafts for a while. This is short but I'm so obsessed with Vi so I needed to put this out.

CONTENT: Oral sex (V! receiving isn't that crazy? reader isn't a pillow princess for once), biting, nipple play, worshipping Vi's body

Your fingertips, with much adoration, trace over every line of ink engraved into Vi's skin. It is much like a religious routine to caress each piece of artwork with already kiss-swollen lips, admire her naked, form, and bite into her muscles to earn yourself those sweet, sweet moans from her.

Your lips trail down her chest, taking each nipple in-between your teeth and giving it a soft nip. Vi gasps, her head falling back at the pleasure.

"Please, I need more." She begs, and you can only oblige.

Your lips are quick to leave her tits, tracing over her firm abdomen. You take your time with her navel and at the same time, your hands run over her back in soft, adoration-filled motions.

Her pussy is perhaps the sweetest thing you've ever been offered a taste of and you eat appropriately, letting her juices coat your chin shamelessly. Each drop tastes like a sample of heaven, and you fail to resist yourself from the temptation staring at you: her sopping-wet folds. You plunge your tongue between them and soon feel Vi's grip on your hair, her fingers guiding your motions.

"F-Fuck, yeah.. just like that, let me fuck you pretty face." Your pretty face? She should see her own. You still moan eagerly, nodding against her pussy. Her eyes almost roll back into her noggin upon each grind she delivers to your mouth because your nose nudges perfectly against her clit, sending shudders of pleasure throughout her.

She's almost riding your face now, shamelessly using it to get off. You don't even mind; you'll let her fuck your tongue for hours if it pleases her. She tastes too addicting to pull away from even if you needed a break.

Her orgasm hits you as hard as it hits her with a violent buck of her hips up into your face and a squeezing sensation of her thighs tightening against your cheeks. You can't help but moan against her pussy as she sporadically rides out her high, your tongue desperately trying to keep up with her movements. All you can even think about is her: the way her eyes flutter like butterfly wings, how her bottom lip is bitten down upon a multitude of times to handle her orgasm, the sensation of her release drenching your lower face and the urge to lick your hips after this. Vi is such a goddamn goddess.

When she finally loosens her stronghold on your head, her thighs parted now, you let out one final shaky breath and move up to lay on top of her. Now, this may be your favorite part. Her face is so satisfied, bliss written all over it. Her biceps have a sheen of sweat over them and you bet her back does, too. You lean down to kiss Vi, letting her taste her own nectar on your tongue. The kiss is so saccharine, you swear that it could give you a toothache. You whimper as she pulls away to stare down at your own body.

"My turn to worship you now?"

#vi x fem reader #vi arcane #vi smut #arcane #requests #dividers by v6que

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turcott3 · 11 months ago

Text

pov

juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: angst, sadness, unprotected sex, p in v, and fluff

positions fics masterlist

~oh, ‘cause nobody ever loved me like you do, i’d love to see me from your point of view~

you sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at your bare nails. one of the wives invited you to go with all of them to get your nails done, to which you hesitantly said yes. though it wasn’t exactly in your budget, you still agreed to go and bond with them.

“so what are your plans today baby?” juraj asks stepping out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“the girls invited me to go get my nails done, i’m going but i won’t get anything i haven’t gotten paid yet.” you say making broken eye contact with the boy.

“one second.” he says re-entering the bathroom so finish brushing his teeth before exiting the bedroom. in your previous relationship, your boyfriend never helped you. he would poke and tease at things that weren’t funny, comment on your body and you weight, tell you how to act and went so far as to hit you from time to time. truth be told, getting back into a relationship scared you because you thought all those things would happen once again no matter who you were with. the last 4 months with juraj had been hard for you. he made you happy and was always kind but the voice in the back of your head always told you to keep him at arms length, no matter your label.

“here, take my card and get whatever you want.” he said re-entering the room, holding his card out for you to take.

“are you sure?” you replied softly.

“yes baby, get whatever you want. it’s on me i promise.” he says again, shutting his wallet and tossing it on his nightstand.

“thank you.”

“of course, i don’t want you to sit there and be left out.” he says kissing you on the head while he collected his clean clothes off the bed next to you. the way he made your heart dance was an all new feeling to you. every time he touched you it was like a butterfly sanctuary busted loose in your abdomen, every time he spoke highly of you, you felt like it wasn’t real.

“i better go, i don’t wanna be late.” you say checking the clock and standing up off the bed, grabbing your purse from the dresser.

“have fun, text me when you get there safe.” he calls from the room as you exit the apartment.

“so how’s everything with slaf?” arber’s girlfriend asks.

“oh he’s been great, he’s such a sweetheart.”

“he is, me and arber are very glad he has someone to love. he has such a big heart he deserves someone as beautiful as you.” she smiles at you.

“awe thank you steph.” you smile lightly, not being able to even accept the compliment in your mind. you’d never felt beautiful, you felt cute from time to time, but never beautiful. after two long hours, you were finally able to leave which relieved you. you didn’t feel like you fit in. all the wives and girlfriends were so beautiful and kind and radiant. none of those things fit you, or so you thought. you entered your apartment to see slaf still in bed watching tv.

“i’m home.” you say catching his attention. he gets up and shuffles into the entryway.

“let me see let me see.” he says asking to see your nails. you picked a simple red design on nude nails, considering it was now february it felt right.

“do you like?” you ask.

“they’re gorgeous. i love them.” he smiles widely at you kissing your hands before placing two gentle fingers under your chin pressing a short kiss to your lips, which you gladly accepted.

“thank you.” you blush, a full smile never cracking your face.

“what’s wrong?” he says noticing your shift in demeanor.

“it’s nothing.” you say pushing past him to enter the bedroom, grabbing your pajamas.

“it’s not nothing.” he says following hot on your heels.

“j, it’s fine.”

“baby tell me.” he says grabbing onto your biceps and pulling you closer.

“i don’t deserve you.”

“what do you mean?” he says, a look of confusion taking over.

“all the other girlfriends and wives, they’re so beautiful and funny and kind, i don’t feel like i fit in with them. it’s like they always are put together, have money, happiness and like they just do everything so effortlessly.” you say, failing to hold back the waterfall behind your eyes.

“no my love.” he says wrapping you up in his arms tightly, rocking you back and forth.

“i don’t deserve you.” you repeat.

“you deserve more than me actually. i feel every emotion you feel everyday. i know you’re scared, i know you don’t feel any of these things about yourself but you don’t see yourself from my point of view.” he states.

“what?”

“you’re so gorgeous and sweet and smart and thoughtful. you make everyday so much brighter for me. i was so lonely when i first came to montreal and you’ve flipped my world upside down. you make everything better y/n.” he says and all you can do it cry. you have no response.

“i don’t know what to say j.”

“you don’t need to say anything, let’s run us a shower and get into our pajamas for a movie night okay?”

“okay.” you simply replied smiling lightly. the two of you stepped into the bathroom, him turning the knob of the shower to warm. you slowly stripped down, suddenly feeling very aware of your body. you hugged yourself hiding your chest and stomach while slaf stripped down in front of you. he finally looks up at you, eyes showing the sadness he felt at you stance.

“stop hiding, you’re beautiful.” he says pulling your arms away from your body. he reaches into the shower to feel the water finally warm. he steps in, lending you a hand in assistance. he pulls you under the water with him as you laid your head on his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. his hands wandering their way down your back, landing firmly on your ass.

“juraj?”

“yes?” he replies as the two of you lock eyes. you say nothing and simply reach a hand to the back of his neck pulling his lips to yours anxiously. his hands moved up your back as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. you pulled away, placing your hands on his chest as your body is flush against his. the look in his eyes read far more than lust.

“let me love you y/n.” he says, running a delicate thumb across your cheekbone, his eyes locked on yours. your hand found his way on top of his as you smiled.

“i will.” you reply quietly. he reattaches your lips hastily, giving you a light tap on the ass. you jump, latching your legs around his hips, not once losing contact. the sexual tension in the room rising quickly. lifting your hips, he pushes himself inside you, burying his face in your neck. you moan out in pleasure as his tip hit the sweet spot deep inside you. he used his arms to guide you as you moved up and down on his dick at a consistent pace, losing your breath quickly. you wrapped your arms around his neck placing your head in his shoulder, trying not to deafen the brunette with your moans. at this rate it wouldn’t take you long to finish. noticing you clenching around him, he picks up his pace.

“so beautiful y/n.” he says breathlessly as you slap a hand on the wall for better stability as your skin slapped against each other. he made you feel things you’d never experienced. your eyes squeeze shut as you begin to see stars, knowing you were nearing your witts end. you feel all of your muscles relax suddenly, your legs becoming shaky at the sensation as he buries his own climax deep inside you. the two of you slowly come to a stop, him not placing you back on the ground just yet. you lift your head off his shoulder dazily and he kisses you lovingly.

“that was amazing.” you giggle, pulling him out of you.

“yeah it was.” he laughs setting you back down.

“i love you so much.” he simply says causing your heart to flutter.

“i love you too slaf.” you smile finally grabbing some kind of soap.

“might as well make use of the shower.” you giggle, pouring shampoo into both of your hands. once the two of you are out of the shower and changed you’re found nowhere other than your bed, wrapped up in each other.

“so how do you feel now?” he asks, his thumb lightly stroking your side.

“i feel a little better.” you say.

“how so?” he pries.

“i feel beautiful and i feel wanted.”

“that’s because both are true my love. if you ever don’t feel okay please come to me. i’m here for you always.”

“okay.” you say, fighting sleep to the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat.

#juraj slafkovsky #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky smut #go habs go #turcs’ talk

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artisticrendezvous · 9 months ago

Text

morpho peleides.

aka the peleides blue morpho, common morpho, or emperor morpho. an iridescent tropical butterfly found in mexico, central america, south america, paraguay, and trinidad. the beautiful blue color in the morpho's wings is caused by the diffraction of light on the millions of tiny scales on the morpho's wings.

#entomology #nature #insects #bugs #butterfly #morpho butterfly #blue morpho #V's Butterfly Collection #V's Original Art #nature art

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a-killer-obsession · 9 months ago

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Rage [Killer x Reader]

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

You lose control when your bestie almost falls victim to a creep.

CW: attempted rape via date rape drugs, graphic violence, gore, fluff, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex, afab reader

WC: 5371

Masterlist || A03

Going out to the clubs was actually a rarity for you and the other female residents of the Victoria Punk . The Kid Pirates loved to party, of course, but the captain and commanders preferred pubs, and you usually had to go where they went. Kid didn't like his crew getting separated at night on unfamiliar islands, especially not his girls, he wanted them where he could see, and protect them. But every now and then, after the collective force of every girl on the ship whining and batting their eyelashes, he would give in and let the crew go to a dance club instead.

On this particular evening you found yourself grinding on the dancefloor with Quincy, your bestie on the crew, and the two of you had no issues touching each other and dancing provocatively to attract someone to spend the evening with, though truth be told the most ideal outcome would be if a certain first mate took notice and decided to take you home. It was unlikely though, Killer had never returned any of your flirtations, and whenever your eyes turned his way, you never caught him watching. No matter, plenty of other attractive men were out on the floor tonight, and plenty were watching your clear display with Quincy. The plan was in full force and you had no doubt you'd both be getting laid tonight.

The tempo of the song changed and you and your bestie decided it would be a good time for a quick rest and drink break. You'd both been on the floor for a fair while now, and you could really do with something to wet your lips. Quincy offered to grab drinks while you headed back to the table where the commanders sat, perching on the edge of the booth seat next to Heat so you could take off your heels and rub your sore feet for a moment. You didn't really need to rub them, sore feet from heels was something you were more than used to every time you went clubbing, but you were sat across from Killer, and at this angle as you bent over slightly, he had a clear view down the front of your low cut dress. His mask tilted down so slightly that you would have missed it, if the view hadn't been entirely on purpose. A little butterfly wiggled in your stomach at the small win, Killer was definitely checking out your tits, even if you couldn't see his eyes.

You looked back towards the bar to where Quincy was ordering drinks. The barkeeper had just placed two cocktails in front of her when a man slid up beside her and engaged in conversation. You smiled as you watched her laugh at something he said. He pointed to something behind her and she followed his finger, and as she looked away you watched his other hand move. It was subtle, but you saw it, there was no mistaking it.

“Son of a bitch,” you growled, shoving your heel back on and standing.

The commanders all looked at you expectantly as you began to march towards the bar. They all knew that walk, either you were about to shoot your shot with someone, or you were about to kick some ass. They all shot up and followed behind you, knowing full well that in this case, it was definitely the latter.

Quincy raised a drink to her mouth just as you approached, and you slapped it out of her hand, the delicate martini glass hitting the floor and shattering. She was about to protest when you grabbed the man beside her by the collar and shoved him against the bar. Quincy wasn't one for fighting, and quickly backed away, sensing something was amiss here. You would never just attack a man for no reason in the middle of a night out, not when she knew you were on the prowl for a lay. And you would never come between her and getting laid unless you had a very good reason.

“The fuck kind of piss ass slease needs to drug a girl to get with her, huh?” You spat at the man.

“No idea what you're talkin’ ‘bout, doll,” the man smiled, putting his hands up in mock defeat.

You reached into the pocket you'd seen him pull the drugs from and pulled out a bag of pills, waving it around for all to see. Nosey bystanders made a ‘ooooh’ sound and security began to close in. You looked at the closest guard, who had moved in to break up a fight, but seeing the baggy had now focused his attention on the man, a scolding fury written on his face.

“No worries babe, we'll take care of this cunt,” you told the security guard. They gave a quick nod and began to clear a path to the door, wanting the mess outside as quickly as possible. Heat and Wire quickly flanked the man, and you let go of his collar so they could drag him outside, but not before giving him a hard kick in the dick. He groaned in pain as they pulled him through the club doors, and you followed them out, anger bubbling and fists clenching in preparation. Quincy tried to follow, but you gave her one stern look and she knew better, retreating back to the safety of the other Kid Pirate women.

The commanders dragged the man to the alley down the side of the bar, and threw him hard against the wall. Killer moved to hit him, but you placed a firm hand against his chest. This was your fight, you wanted to do this. You needed to take your anger out on this man or it would fester, and fuck were you angry . Killer's mask tilted to look down at your hand, ready to argue with you, before Kid spoke up from behind.

“Let her have it Kil, this is her find,” Kid commanded. Killer took one look at Kid and gave an obedient nod, before stepping back to give you space. The men spread out around you and the stranger, ensuring he had nowhere to run.

Like a fool, he tried to run anyway, and you quickly made it clear he was going nowhere with a swift kick to the head. You may have been only a medium height, but you were agile, and strong, kicking his head was easy for you, even if he was taller than you. He went down quickly, clutching his head, and you followed with a hard kick to his stomach. He gagged, one hand moving from his head to his gut as he curled up in a protective ball.

You turned to your captain, your eyes flicking between his and the dagger strapped to his chest, asking silent permission. He handed it to you without a word, curious as to what you'd do with it. You had killed plenty of times, but you usually prefered a quick kill with a gun, you weren't keen on torture. He got the feeling though that this was different, it felt personal. You'd never insisted on killing someone yourself before, and he could see the way your eyes were dark with rage, your head twitching every so slightly whenever you looked at the man. He still wasn't entirely sure what you were mad about, but he couldn't care less, he was happy to lean against the wall and watch one of his girls kill.

You leant down next to the man, twisting your fingers through his hair and pulling hard, yanking his head up to force him to look at you. At the same time you pressed the tip of the dagger to his throat, just enough to pierce it a tiny amount, the threat of death made very real as a thin line of red ran down the man's front.

“What were your plans with my girl, huh?” You spat, “feed her your drugs, drag her away, maybe to this very spot, and rape her? Leave her broken and dying in this alleyway? Did you think she was all alone?”

The man whimpered as you pressed a foot against his groin, pressing the sharp heel of your shoe right against his dick. The men around you silently grimaced as you began to press harder, the stranger starting to cry out in pain as your shoe began to dig into his delicate parts.

“Pathetic little tiny dicked man,” you growled, pressing harder yet, “the only thing you're good for is dying”

You slid the dagger down his chest, cutting a long strip down his front, then you brought your foot up and kicked him back. His head slammed against the concrete wall with an audible crack as you stalked towards him. He tried to stand, groaning in pain, and you charged forward, jamming the dagger right into his stomach. Pinning him to the wall, he screamed and clawed at you as you twisted the blade, before pulling it out along with a small segment of his intestines. He grappled at his gut, and you dug the blade back in, higher this time, leaving it in his gut as you grabbed his wrists and pressed them against the wall behind him.

“Kid, pin this bug for me would you?” You asked sweetly. Kid compiled with a small chuckle, sending sharps of scrap metal from the alleyway straight through the man's hands, effectively nailing him to the wall. He screamed out, his hands beginning to bleed and tear as his legs started to give way underneath him, and his guts continued to spill out. You grabbed the blade that was still wedged in his gut, twisting it again for good measure before pulling it loose.

The man was writhing and screaming, on the edge of passing out from either blood loss or shock, whichever happened first, and you saw red as you realised you didn't have much longer to make him pay. Who knew how many girls he had hurt, how many Quincys hadn't had the good fortune of a friend looking at just the right moment, how many girls whose lives he had destroyed for the sake of an easy lay. Quincy was your best friend, you imagined finding her in the alleyway, unconscious and unclothed and beaten and used. You wanted to scream, cry, vomit, but most of all you wanted to kill.

“RAPIST CUNT! DIE!” you shrieked, charging back at him and stabbing over and over. You didn't bother to focus on where you were forcing your blade, sheathing it in any piece of his flesh that you could. His chest, his arms, his groin, even his face wasn't untouched. You blacked out, unleashing every ounce of fury you had pent up inside you on this man.

He was growing cold, long dead, and you continued to stab, his blood splattering all over the large amounts of skin you had exposed in your little black clubbing dress, your shoes starting to get slippery from the blood pooling inside them. You almost fell because of it, and two strong arms caught you, looping under your armpits and dragging you backwards as you fought against them, blade still in hand.

“Kid, she's out of control,” Killer spoke up from behind you, struggling to keep you steady as you slipped out of your heels and attempted to fight your way out of his grasp, still intent on burying your knife in the unrecognisable red mess of the stranger. Kid knew that bloodlust well, he had seen it in the mirror, but never on one of his girls. It startled him, and until Killer had spoken, he'd been in a haze, pride turning to concern as he watched you continue to work away at the corpse till you couldn't stand. Finally, snapped out of it, he used his devil fruit to pull the blade from your hand, receiving an almost inhuman growl from you in return. It sent a shiver down the spine of all four commanders, and drove home just how out of control you really were.

“Take her back to the ship, clean her up,” he told Killer, “Heat, stay with the girls, Wire help me get rid of this mess”

Killer swept you off your feet, in a way that would have been quite sexy if not for the fact that you were growling and hitting him, still trying to get at the dead man, and he began a quick march towards the ship. You saw Heat hurry back inside as Kid began to drag the body to the nearest dumpster, Wire holding the lid open for him as he threw the bloodied mess in, before Killer pulled around a corner and they were all out of sight.

The short walk back to the ship was a blur, and it wasn't until Killer placed you in the shower and turned the cold water on that you finally stopped fighting him, suddenly snapped out of your rage by the icy water pouring over your bare skin. You took in a sharp breath as the water prickled you, pressing your back against the wall of the shower in instinctual self defence and almost slipping in the process. Killer pinned you against the wall to keep you upright, his feet still outside the tub and his clothes getting drenched.

“Are you going to stop fighting me now?” He near growled.

You looked at where his eyes would be, coming back to reality far too quickly and realising all of a sudden what you had done. You had never been so violent in your life, you didn't know what had come over you. You grabbed the strong forearms that were either side of you as you felt your legs threaten to give out.

“I- I-” you stuttered, starting to hyperventilate.

“It's okay, I've got you,” he said, softer now. He guided your body down, letting you slide safely down the wall till you were sitting in the bathtub, and he switched the water to warm as you began to shiver. “I'm right here, I've got you” he cooed, almost a whisper, running a hand through your blood soaked hair so gently that anyone watching the exchange would mistake him for a lover.

“I don't know what happened,” you shivered.

“You were protecting Quincy,” he told you, “he was going to hurt her, you were right to be angry, I would have fucked him up just as bad. Hell, I was planning on bringing him back here, taking my time with him”

You stared at Killer's blank mask as you realised that, while extremely violent by your standards, he was right. You probably did the man a mercy by killing him so quickly, had Killer brought him back to the ship he would have tortured him for days. Maybe that would have been better, given what he'd done, what he was planning to do to Quincy. Maybe you did a bad thing, by stopping Killer. Selfish.

Killer saw the way your thoughts were beginning to spiral and curled a gentle finger under your chin, tilting your face back up. “Hey, don't let your mind play games with you, you did good, Kid was impressed, Quincy will be thankful, and who knows how many girls you've saved from a similar fate”

You sniffed a little as Killer leaned away, giving you space to compose yourself. Both of you were still fully clothed, drenched by the shower, and you were absolutely covered in blood. There were even bits of organs and skin stuck in your hair, you wanted to gag at the thought.

“This is disgusting,” you sighed as you pulled a piece of some unknown flesh out of your hair and flicked it towards the drain, “and my dress is fucking ruined” you pouted.

“It looked good while you had it, at least,” Killer remarked. You lit up, your eyes practically glittering at the compliment. It was the first time he'd ever said something nice about your appearance.

“Yeah? You liked it?” You pressed.

“Made your legs look real good,” he smirked behind the mask, knowing the little ego boost would help you out of your mood, “and I appreciated the view earlier” he would have winked if not for the mask. He stood and pulled his wet shirt over his head, revealing the tight muscles and the blonde trail of hair that ran down from his belly button and disappeared under the light blue sash he wore around his waist. He tossed it in a laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom before grabbing a towel and dabbing at the exposed hair that had gotten wet. He watched the way you eyed him hungrily, biting your lip a little and tilting your head ever so slightly, so focused on his rarely seen bare chest that you didn't even notice the way he was showing off for you. It was an expertly planned distraction, you'd all but forgotten about your rage induced overkill as you watched a stray bead of water run down his front. You very nearly moaned watching it run over his muscles, and he stifled a laugh.

He finished drying his hair and flung the towel over his shoulder, before grabbing another clean towel and hanging it on a hook next to the shower for you. “Get yourself cleaned up,” he said as he turned to leave. You'd almost forgotten you were still sitting fully clothed, covered in blood, under the running water. “I'll find you something to wear,” he said as he left, closing the bathroom door behind him.

You let out a heavy sigh at his sudden exit before registering all of a sudden that you were in his bathroom. You'd never even been past the eave of his bedroom door before. You shot up, your eyes darting around the room as you took in every little detail. To be fair though, it was unbearably clean, barely anything to be nosey about. With a slight disappointed pout you began unzipping your dress, wringing it out slightly before throwing it to the laundry basket, along with your bra and underwear. You took the bobby pins out of your hair and left them along the side of the tub to retrieve later, along with your earrings, one of which was broken. You'd have to ask Kid very nicely to mend it for you later.

You let the water run over you freely to remove most of the blood from your skin and hair before finally turning to Killer's array of products, neatly lined up along an inset shelf next to the tub. No wonder his hair was always so nice, you couldn't think of any other man you'd ever met who used hair masks, and Killer had several to choose from. You opened and sniffed each product on the shelf carefully out of curiosity, before finally starting to wash your hair and skin. You would have liked to have used a hair mask, but you'd already spent more than enough time fucking around in Killer's bathroom.

Satisfied that your murderous rampage was entirely cleaned from your body, you turned off the shower and patted your hair with the towel, letting the rest of your body drip dry till you felt like your hair was dry enough. You wrapped the towel around yourself, drying off the last few rogue drips, before taking a deep breath and walking out to the bedroom.

You weren't sure what to expect from Killer's room. You had seen glimpses of it from the hall, but never the whole room. It was tidy, not many personal belongings out on show save for a few books and a small metal elephant that Kid had clearly made him. Even less expected was Killer himself, who was lazing on the bed reading, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants. Let me repeat that, nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants. Your eyes flicked between him and his mask, which sat neatly on his side table, as he turned to the next page of his book. You stood frozen in the doorframe, steam slowly escaping the bathroom behind you as you stared at Killer, his icy blue eyes moving side to side as he read.

“There's clothes for you on the dresser,” he said without looking up, like he wasn't casually unmasked for the first time in front of you, “my briefs are probably too big for you but it's better than nothing”

You took a quick look around the room, finding the dresser right beside you, an old band tee and boxer briefs sitting on top of the wooden drawers. ‘Fuck that’ you thought to yourself, marching confidently to the side of the bed. Killer finally looked up just in time to watch you drop your towel, a sly smirk spreading on his face. His lips, to your surprise, were painted purple. Now that you were closer you could see how sharp his features were, and the unseen portion of his scruffy goatee that was usually half hidden by his mask.

“I wondered how long it'd take you to finally cave,” he said coyly, returning to his book. You grabbed it and threw it across the room, climbing on to the bed and straddling him.

“Your mask isn't on,” you said plainly. You weren't sure if it was a question or a statement.

“Fuck, really?” He toyed, “I hadn't noticed”

Your playfulness suddenly wavered as you realised the gravity of the situation, sitting down on his thighs and looking at him more intensely.

“Your mask isn't on,” you said, softer. This time it was definitely a statement. His hands found your waist and his thumbs made small circles against your bare skin, leaving goosebumps and making you shiver.

“I know,” he replied, his voice gentle and quiet.

“Kil..” you almost whispered. Your hands came up and cupped his face, thumbs running over his cheeks as you held his face carefully like it was the most fragile thing on earth. “.. why?”

“I'm not sure myself, to be honest,” he replied, his eyes searching your face anxiously for any hint of rejection, but finding nothing but adoration, “it just felt like the right thing to do. Plus, this is my room,” he finished with a more playful tone and a small smile. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing his smile for the first time. Your eyes flicked between his eyes and his mouth, and his smile waived as he misread your expression as disliking his smile. He began to turn away, but you held his face steady, before finally closing the distance and pressing your mouth against his.

It was a soft kiss, experimental, you may have been entirely naked in his lap but you somehow felt insecure about whether he actually wanted you. The insecurities were quickly lost though when he returned the kiss, one of his hands travelling up your back to find your hair, holding you steady as he pressed back against you. You made a small moan in response, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, running his wet muscle against your own.

You raised yourself on your knees, hovering over him, to give yourself better purchase as his head tilted and your tongues fought against each other. The raised position opened you up to him, and he wasted no time sliding his other hand from your waist to your lower stomach, tracing down to your mound with an index finger. You moaned into his mouth as his hand ghosted across your slit, before finally sliding between your folds. He groaned as he found you already wet, and his fingers played with your silk before finally settling over your clit, circling it with his thumb. Your hips bucked as you tried to get more from him, and he took the hint, slipping a finger inside you and beginning a gentle movement.

You had to break from the kiss for air as he added a second, your hands running down his chest and your face pressing into the crook of his neck as he began curling his fingers and pumping you, his other hand holding to you steady against him as you whined. You made the occasional kiss and nip on his neck, hearing him grunt as you made little marks across his skin, and you whimpered as he added a third finger, stretching you out and targeting your g-spot. You fluttered around him as you climax rapidly built, moaning against his shoulder and leaving his skin damp from your hot breath as you panted.

“Let go [y/n], I can feel how close you are,” Killer purred, pumping you harder. Your legs shook and you were grateful for his support as you came hard, your release coating his fingers as he kissed and sucked on your neck, cooing praises. He guided you to sit back as he removed his fingers, keeping you upright with a strong arm around your waist as you sat against his thighs. Your pussy left wet patches against his sweatpants and you watched through half lidded eyes as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked your release off his fingers, an almost inaudible moan escaping you at the lewd sight.

“So sweet,” he purred, “such a good girl for me”

You whimpered at his praises and he helped you lay on your back beside him, rolling on top of you to settle between your legs, keeping his weight off you with an arm either side of your torso. “You're so beautiful underneath me like this,” he whispered, his face dipping down to run his nose over your clavicle, taking in your scent before running a tongue up your neck to your ear, where he nipped and tugged at the lobe. “I want to taste more of you,” he whispered, “can I have you?”

You could barely tilt your head to look at him, but you managed to catch his ocean eyes for a moment before capturing his lips again, pulling gently at his hair as he kissed back with equal feverish need. You pulled away, gasping for air. “Take whatever you want from me Kil,” you panted, “I'm yours”

A small lustful growl of appreciation was his reply, overly eager at your submissive response. It fueled his ego and he began making quick kisses down your body, trailing down your centre. He stopped for a short while to admire your breasts, and the way your chest was heaving from arousal, squeezing them and pressing his face between them. It was heaven on earth to be buried between them, but what he really wanted was to watch you writhe again, so he continued down till his face was between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open and making sure you weren't going anywhere, before running a fat stripe with his tongue between your folds. You whimpered and instinctively shied away, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but he held fast, keeping his mouth firmly on you. You felt the vibrations of his groans as he alternated between focusing on your bud and plunging his tongue inside you, your moans now flowing freely from you as he quickly brought you to a second climax.

He eagerly drank up your juices as you nearly crushed his head between your thighs, the lack of oxygen making him light headed but only adding to his arousal. When you finally released him he gave one last long stripe before sitting up, kneeling between your legs and running his hands up your body as he licked his lips.

“Fuck, Kil…” you panted, a forearm resting over your face as you came down from your second high. He gently took your arm and moved it away, hovering over you and looking at you intently.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, a small smile on your face. You spread your legs in a not so subtle hint, giving him the greenlight to continue.

“You sure?” He replied, his still clothed erection pressing against your centre. You moaned and rolled your hips against him, and his arms almost failed to hold his weight off you as he grunted.

“Please Kil,” you mewled, grinding against him again, “I need you inside me”

He moved faster than he would in battle to strip his pants and boxers, throwing them to the floor and settling back between your legs. The fat tip of his heavy cock rested against your pussy and you bit your bottom lip, looking down between your legs at his impressive size and wondering how you were going to fit all of him.

“I'll be gentle,” he near whispered, like he could read your mind, “just tell me if you want to stop”

You nodded eagerly and held his forearms, holding yourself slightly up so you could watch as he sunk his tip inside you. You immediately wavered in your strength, falling back against the mattress and moaning as he filled and stretched you. He let out a groan as he finally reached the base, pausing to enjoy the way your walls held him so tight before slowly pulling back out again. He started a slow, gentle rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back inside you, groaning softly every time he bottomed out.

Confident that he wouldn't hurt you, you rolled your hips to meet him, encouraging him to go faster. He happily obliged, increasing his pace bit by bit. Every time he settled in to a new speed, you would roll your hips and reach for him, beckoning him to move faster and harder till he was ruining you, fucking you hard in to the bed while you balled the sheets in your hands, screaming out in pleasure at every hard thrust.

He pulled your knees up, putting them over his shoulders and pulling your ass towards him, putting you in a mating press and somehow fucking you even deeper. You reached for him and your nails sunk into the muscles that covered his arms, leaving crescent shaped indents as you writhed underneath him. His rhythm became erratic and his panting in your ear grew heavy as he bent over you, his groans only spurring you on more as you hit your third orgasm quite suddenly, screaming his name and drawing blood as your nails finally broke skin. He swore and gave two final hard thrusts before stilling and throwing his head back, letting out a primal groan as he emptied himself inside you.

He slumped forward, releasing your legs from his shoulders and resting against your chest, both of you panting heavy and struggling for air. You ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you enjoyed his weight on top of you, his face against your shoulder and his cock still buried deep in you. Finally he rolled off of you, making you whine as he left you empty, but he pulled you with him, holding you close against his side so he could enjoy you without worrying about crushing you.

“You know,” you forced out between heavy breaths as you traced his muscles with a index finger and his thumb rubbed small circles on the small of your back, “if I'd known all it would take to get your attention was going ape shit on some creep, I would have gone on a violent rampage much sooner”

Killer huffed a silent laugh, his eyes shut as he laid on his back and enjoyed the feeling of your warm body pressed against his, “actually, it was the dancing that did it”

“No fucking way,” you smacked his bare chest playfully, “Emma didn't think it would work, HA!”

“It was very… provocative,” Killer hummed.

“That was the point,” you mused, raising yourself up to rest on your elbow so you could look at him, “you're very handsome, you know. The mask is sexy but this is a face carved by angels”

A clear blush spread across Killer's face before he quickly silenced you with kisses.

#killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction

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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

Note

we need jealous neteyam

say less bestie.

synopsis: When Neteyam sees you talking to a touchy Metkayina man, he feels the need to remind you and the rest of the world who you belong to.

wc: 3k words

warnings: filthy smut (p in v penetration, fingering, oral - f receiving, squirting, edging, creampie, slight praise kink), slightly mean!neteyam, jealous!neteyam, softdom!neteyam, 18+ minors DNI

na'vi words used: Atan - light (also known as my favourite nickname ever - see illicit affairs for more), tewng - loincloth

a/n: thank you anonnie for the request bc fr i've needed jealous!Neteyam in my life and this came at the perfect time. this HAD to be done as part as the cardigan series. i don't make the rules, i just abide by them, but you don't have to have read it to understand any of it, this is just a nod for my OG besties x

Neteyam had impeccable control over his emotions. Everyone thought so. Everyone said so. The best of both Neytiri and Jake, he was a picture-perfect warrior through and through. Calm and collected in the face of danger, able to stop and analyse every move 3 steps in advance, able to gain perspective in every situation, able to think impartially, able to maintain perspective even in the harshest of circumstances.

That was normally. That was normally, but now, as he was watching you smile at the Metkayina Olo’eyktan’s right hand, as he was watching his hand brush the soft lapis skin only he should ever know the feel of, Neteyam felt like a bull in a ring, and the man was tauntingly dangling a red cloth in front of his face.

Neteyam assumed the whole damn clan understood you were his… you came to the reef people together, didn’t you? You were holding on to him when you first met the chieftain and the Tsa’hik. He thought it was pretty fucking obvious. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he needed to work harder to make sure people knew who you belonged to, who owned your heart, your soul. Your body.

His mind was empty as he stalked towards the pair of you, a mission on his mind and a frown on his face. His mouth was tight and his eyes hard as he grabbed you sternly by your arm, and you jumped slightly at the contact, but immediately relaxed as your gaze settled on his beautiful navy body only to again stiffen as you took in his demeanour. He was pissed at you. Neteyam didn’t get pissed often. In fact, you think the last time was almost a year ago, back in your clearing in the forest. Not only was he pissed, there was a darkness about him, so atypical, so different.. so fucking hot.

You smirked, and you feel butterflies burrowing through your stomach and escaping through the rest of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He was jealous. Neteyam was jealous. You haven’t seen Neteyam jealous since he thought you fucked his brother, in a time that felt like a different life ago, and heat was quickly spreading in your womb at the memory of that kiss, your first kiss, so intense, so passionate, so raw. The grip he had on your arm was so tight it was restricting blood flow to your fingers, which prickled painfully, slowly going numb.

Oh, this is going to be fun…

“Atan, who is your new friend? I don’t think we’ve met.” His low voice was serious, deadly, not an ounce of his normal, good-natured tone.

“This is Azao Te Soaspxaì Kuvay'itan. He is chief Tonowari’s right hand man. A mighty warrior.” Strike one. You knew you were pushing your luck, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. In fact, you knew pushing your luck now meant getting fucked dumb later, and that was enough motivation for you to egg him on.

“I feel like you two should talk. You might have a lot more in common than you think.” You couldn’t help the slight amused tone in your voice, couldn’t help the small squeal you had to conceal as a cough as Neteyam’s hand was leaving painful purple marks on your now numb arm. His eyes were boring holes in the side of your face, and you also couldn't help yourself from turning around and raising an eyebrow at him. Strike two. A low rumble emanates from deep in his throat, and both your and Azao’s eyes snap to your mate, who is holding it together with barely concealed wrath.

“That… sounds great." Azao's tone was uncertain as he spoke. "Your dad mentioned you were one of the youngest Omatikaya to pass your Iknimaya and Uniltaron. That’s very impressive. We can definitely talk more, once I am done with your beautiful sister here.”

Strike three.

“Ah, Azao. Neteyam is not my brother. He’s my mate.” You moved subtly, so as to put your body in between the poor man and Neteyam’s, and you felt his chest heaving with each deep breath as it stood flush against your back. Azao’s rude awakening would have been hilarious to witness if it wasn’t for the fact you were genuinely worried for his life. You couldn’t blame him for his mistake. You always referred to the rest of the Sully kids as your siblings, and aside from your obvious human features, that you shared with Lo’ak, Kiri and Jake, you and Neteyam had a distinct resemblance to each other, such as your deeply-contrasted stripes covering your face and your whole body, so much more pronounced than most other Na’vi’s, even your siblings'.

“I -, I- I thought you said the Toruk Makto is your dad.” You pushed a lock of hair that fell in front of your eyes and scratched the top of your head, laughing awkwardly.

“Yeah. It’s… complicated.”

“Azao.” Shit. Neteyam’s tone was a blaring warning sign, and you dug your feet more firmly on the ground, using your body as a shield. His hand travelled down onto your own, that he grabbed forcefully. His other hand went to the nape of your neck, that he caressed with barely-there touches, and you shuddered under him. You needed him. Now.

“If you will excuse us, my mate and I have to talk.” He didn’t wait for the Metkayina man to answer before he ushered you away, and you turned as best as you could, waving your new friend goodbye.

Neteyam didn’t stop until you reached a portion of the island that was uninhibited and covered in trees and shrubbery, and soft green moss. You didn’t manage to get a single word out before Neteyam’s long, beautiful fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze, knocking the air out of you. Without warning, his lips crash into yours feistily, and his tongue pushes past your lips, hungrily exploring your mouth, and you moan into him, desperate for him to do the same to your needy, sopping cunt. He pushes your head back by the throat, and gives you a warning look, one that should deter you, but instead makes you pant with untamed desire.

“You like playing with fire, don’t you, Atan?” he squeezes again, until you whimper and the world starts to slowly fade around you, and the whimpers turn into pathetic moans as he releases his grip and the rush of oxygen makes more slick pool in your now already-damp loincloth.

“I’m your brother now, am I? Is that what people think, is this what this tribe thinks?”

“Neteyam, who cares what they think?”

“I obviously haven’t done a good enough job in making sure people understand who you belong to.” his hand takes hold of your jaw, bringing it up to look in his eyes. “Who this face belongs to.” His other hand moves down to trail over your body, from your neck to your collarbones, to the swell of your breasts, to the curve of your waist until it reaches your tewng, that he skilfully unwraps and lets fall to the floor, and you whimper slightly as the breeze hits your now uncovered core. His slips his hand in between your thighs, tracing your folds, thumb circling your clit lazily, and you jerk slightly, but he holds you in place with a firm grip on your hips. “Who this pussy belongs to.”

He tilts his head slightly and licks his lips, still eyeing you like how a predator eyes his next meal. “Let’s look at all the offences, shall we? First…” he says as he pushes your thighs apart and inserts a slender digit into your drenched core. You gasp at the sudden stretch and try to push your head back, which he prevents with his unrelenting grip on your face. He tsks with a languid shake of his head. “No, Atan. You will look at me.” he starts a slow pace of his finger, continuing to pump in and out of you while his thumb motions draw more insistent, and the pressure in your core builds, enough to make you pant, not enough to feel release, aching for more, more stimulation, more of him in you.

“First, you knowingly let another man flirt with you, and you call him a mighty warrior in front of me, knowing full well what it would do to me.”

“Second…” he inserts a second finger, scissoring you open, and the mewl you release does nothing to deter him, nothing to stop him. “You raise your eyebrow at me. You know what happens when you raise your pretty little eyebrows at me, Atan.”

“Neteyam, ple- ah! Please!”

“No, baby, you don’t get to ask for favours now. I’m not even done yet.”

“Third,” his last digit sinks into you to the knuckle and his three long, slender fingers stretch you out like a fucking dream, filling you in the way you craved and needed, moving at the pace he knew would get you to fall apart around him. “You allowed him to think that we’re brother and sister. You let him think he had a shot at fucking you. You let him touch your skin, run his fingers down your arm.”

Your breaths were shaky and shallow as you shook your head, as you tried to obey him, tried to focus on keeping your gaze on his, on keeping yourself together, but you couldn’t, not when it felt so good, not when the pressure in your abdomen was so tight it was about to explode all around you and all around him. And he didn’t want you to keep it together. He wanted you to suffer, and suffer you did when he pulled out of you as you were on the edge of coming on his fingers.

“Argh - fuck!” You felt frustrated, and tears started to prick at your eyes, the emptiness you felt in your womb taking a toll on you. He knew your body better than you did. He’s had so long to learn it, so long to study it, and much like the any other challenge Neteyam tackled, he aced, he became the leading expert in what buttons to push to get you to come, and what buttons to push to drive you to the edge of insanity.

“Does it feel good? You wanted this, right? Wanted to piss me off? Well, Atan…” he removes his hand from your jaw and moves it to your chest, which he pushes softly until you take the hint and move backwards, and he helps you onto the ground, caressing your body as he does, a gentle reminder that he loves you, that he would never purposefully hurt you, that he knows that there is a fine line between pleasure and pain and that, while he’s walking it, you would give into him like you always did, because in the end, he always made it worth your while.

“Consider me pissed off.”

His hands move from your ankles upwards, massaging your thighs with each stroke, with each inch traversed, and you almost relax under his touch, the feeling soothing and reassuring, like the calm before a storm. You allowed yourself the respite of closing your eyes and melting on the ground, with rushes of need overtaking you once more. You let out an inadvertent squeal when his tongue licks your pussy from your entrance to your clit, that he sucks on eagerly, making you entire body convulse under him, making you grind on his face, and he lets you, allowing you to coat his lips, chin and nose in your arousal. He continues to do it until you’re ready to come, then stops, once, twice, three times. You have tears running down your face and small, pathetic sobs escaping your lips.

“Why’re you crying, baby? Hmm?” You just whine in response, shaking your head spastically. His mouth closes over your hips and abdomen in several spots, leaving marks and hickeys that you knew everyone will be able to see, including his family. “Neteyam… we share a tent with your family, fuck!”

“Atan, I don’t care. It’s obvious I haven’t made it clear to the people of this clan that you’re mine. Mine. It’s time I rectified that. I won’t apologise for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken.”

He continued his endless, slow, torturous onslaught throughout your whole body, until you had bruises everywhere, until they were as prominent as the little bioluminescent stars adorning your body, until they were battle scars that you would wear proudly, that you would show off enthusiastically, because fuck, you were his. You have been his since the moment you were both born just a couple months apart and you’ll be his your whole lives. You loved nothing more than being his.

When he reaches you neck, the sucking turns into soft, peppering kisses, and you melt into his touch, cooing slightly as your hands reach over to stroke his hair and push it back behind his ears, that twitch backwards in response.

“You’re mean. But I love you anyway.”

“You were mean first, Atan. And I love you more. Don’t forget that.” You let out a breathy scream as his canines sink into your neck, and you can almost taste the metallic tang of the blood as it makes its way out of your body, as it coats your mate’s tongue when he laps at it like a starved man.

“You’re mine.” He kisses you, roughly and you moan into his mouth as the mixture of your slick and blood on his tongue, in your mouth, makes you dizzy, tightens the coil in your womb once more.

“I’m yours. All yours.”

“Every curve, every moan, and every quiver belong to me, and only me.”

He makes quick work of his loincloth that he tosses carelessly by your side, and you can’t help the breathless moans that escape you once his tip prods at your soaked entrance, your cunt throbbing in anticipation, praying that this time, he’ll let you finish. Once. At least once. You push into him impatiently, making his length slip into you more and he growls lowly at your mishap.

“Move another inch and you won’t be coming tonight.”

Incoherent whimpers are all you are able to contribute in response, and he starts slowly sinking into your needy cunt, the stretch almost unbearable, but oh, so necessary. You can feel his tip grazing your cervix as he bottoms out and his breath hitches in his throat, a frown on his beautiful face as the pleasure takes over him. It takes a while, but eventually his eyes open and you are overwhelmed at their beauty, at the glimmers of light and forest green in the expressive, golden orbs, the one you knew by heart, the one that you dreamt of at night, that were the lights that guided your life, just like you were the light that guided his.

“You drive me crazy, Atan. I can already feel you squeezing me. You always take me so well, don’t you, baby? This pretty pussy was made for my cock. Mine.”

You nod enthusiastically, hoping that by doing so he’ll forgive you and fuck you until you passed out, the way he always did back in the forest. You missed falling asleep with him still deep in you, his cum dripping down your ass, hidden from view in your favourite cave or your clearing, where no one else could find you, where it was just you and him, forever and for always.

“Do you want it, baby? Want me to give it to you?”

“Yes! Yes please, oh my God, please!”

He smirks and tilts his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

You whimper, frustration taking over you once more. His smirk widens into a full devilish smile and he pulls out slowly, only to ram back into you so hard you get knocked back from the sheer force.

“Beg.”

“Please, Neteyam. Fucking hell, please, I’m begging you, move! I need you to fuck me, I need your cock so badly, please!”

You felt his groan deep in your soul, electricity running down your spine, pooling in your abdomen, sending sparks everywhere in your body and when he started a rough pace, slamming into you ruthlessly while his balls continued to slap against your folds, while his pelvis put pressure on your clit, it didn’t take long for the pleasure to become overwhelming, didn’t take long for all the orgasms you were denied to catch up with you. He didn’t stop once you came all over his cock, but maintained the same pace until you were shaking and feeling the desire build up yet again, even stronger than the first time.

“Remember whose dick you’re about to squirt on the next time you think of pulling this shit. Let go, Atan. Come for me.”

Another testament to how well he knew you, his words immediately drove you to your release, gushes of liquid spilling out of you as you squirted on him, dripping down his balls and your ass and making a mess out of the ground beneath you.

“Let’s see Azao get near you again when you spend the next week with my cum dripping down your thighs. With my smell all over your perfect body.”

And with that, he comes in you, thick ropes of cum painting your walls, that he fucks back into you, using his cock like a plug to make certain you’re marked, certain it’s not going anywhere for the time being.

Neteyam had impeccable control over his emotions. But just like with everything else in his life, you would always be the exception to his every rule, the one that had absolute power over him, the one that owned his heart, body and soul. The only one.

“So… do you like getting fucked by your brother, Atan?”

taglist: @samiiistarss @fanboyluvr

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

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canopy

1.5k / joel miller x fem!reader / master list

One shot (update: sequel)

Anons: he sneaks into her room at night to do it and her dad comes in to check on her at some point cause he thought he heard her "crying" so joel has to hide (under the covers with his cock still inside her or his mouth on her???) and she has to try and stay cool and collected til he leaves. WARNINGS: I8+ MDNI. Non outbreak AU, girthy age gap (reader >18), grinding, Unsafe P in V sex. Creampie. Swaddling / cockwarming.

“I dunno if you can take it, baby,” he whispers as he presses his ample hardness into the back of your silky nightgown. Joel is spooning you in your childhood bedroom, and he’s being a tease.

“What?? You know I can,” you protest quietly. You've taken it before. You're squirming with desire as your canopy flutters in the breeze of your open window.

“Not without makin’ a fuss you can’t,” he murmurs into your hair as he slides his hand downward and presses himself into you again with a grunt. Growing up, having a canopy on your bed made you feel like a princess. Now Joel does. Tonight, you brought down the side curtains and snuck him in.

“I’ll be quiet,” you whine, "promise."

Your hips rock into his massive hand, his flattened fingers already dripping with your desire. He rhythmically thrusts against you, big and hard. You're throbbing, aching to be filled. Your body is electric with need for him. You’d give anything to have him inside you.

“Not quiet. Silent,” he mutters gruffly. You get butterflies at the sound of his promising words.

You nod and don’t say a word.

“Good girl.”

He slips his cock between your thighs and your breath hitches. He thrusts into the pocket of your thighs against your wet cunt, his cock sliding up to your clit and hitting his hand on the other side. You're overwhelmed with arousal and barely able to stay quiet. You want to beg, but he won’t hesitate to freeze if you even make a peep. He thrusts slowly with the softest grunts muffled by your hair. Each time his cock reaches your clit you throb worse for him.

Desperate to earn penetration, you focus and manage to be silent. The only sound is his heavy breathing and the squish of his hard cock between your thighs, grinding wetly against your cunt, driving you crazy with desire.

“Doin’ great, baby,” he whispers. “Nice ‘n quiet. Hear your pussy beggin’ for me.”

You nod and release a breath you were holding.

“You can take it quiet?”

You nod.

“Want this cock inside you?”

You nod.

“With your parents down the hall?”

You nod again.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.

Joel slides his stiff length against your wet heat again and when he pulls back, he stops with the tip at your wet little hole. You tilt your hips and he nestles the weeping head of his cock in line with your entrance, his hand nudging his shaft until he’s lined up just right. He slowly pushes half into you and you sharply inhale as his girth parts your core. He retreats an inch or two and slides his free hand under your neck, then clamps it over your mouth as he plunges into you full force and you moan into his hand. Even with his hand to stifle you, it's audible.

He freezes with his cock all the way inside you and growls, “What’d I say, princess?”

There are footsteps in the hall, approaching your door. Then your father’s voice. “You okay, sweetie?”

Joel’s cock twitches inside you as he slowly removes his fingers from your mouth. His heart pounds against your back. “Yeah, Dad.”

“You sure? Thought I heard you cry.” He pushes the door handle and cracks the door.

“No, I’m fine, just a cough."

"it didn't sound like-"

"Please, I'm trying to sleep.”

“Sorry sweetie. Lemme know if you need anything, okay? It’s nice havin’ you home.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Good night.”

“Night,” you say and Joel’s hand covers your mouth again as his cock slowly begins to withdraw.

He grants you one more thrust, filling you to the brim with his girth, then he slowly pulls out and your temples feel weak. The hand on your clit slides up to cup your breast over your nightgown and the hand on your mouth loosens.

You whine, “Joel, please,” still muffled slightly by his hand, which he then takes away.

Joel sighs. “Not if you can’t handle it, princess.”

You whisper, “So you’re gonna lie here doing nothing until it’s safe to leave?”

“You know the rules.”

You turn around and face him with angry eyes. He looks bemused. You reach down and grab his wet, hard cock. “I don’t like the rules,” you whisper.

You crawl down the bed and he rolls onto his back, watching you. You straddle his knees, dip your head down, and hover your mouth over his cock, looking up at him. You wrap your hand around the base and he raises his eyebrows. You take the tip into your mouth and taste your own juices. You lazily tongue the shaft. You hold it loosely in your hand and even looser with your mouth, barely grazing it with your lips and tongue. He inhales a chest full of air and softly grunts at the top before letting it out. “Tryin’ to make me sorry, this ain’t the way,” he chuckles in a whisper, lifting his hips into your mouth.

You crawl up his body with your knees straddling his thighs, then his hips, with your little nightgown skimming his cock on the way. Then you stop with your wet cunt lightly grazing his cock. He looks at you sternly, but when you make eye contact, his face softens to curiosity. His chest rises and falls as you press your front against his shaft, wedging his hard dick between your bodies. He slightly raises his knees behind your back. You roll your slippery seam against his cock and slip a hand into your nightgown to massage your breast. You watch a dark hunger overtake his face as your clit twitches against him.

Joel shoots upright and wraps one arm around you, bracing the other hand behind him on the bed. He leans back to hoist you onto his cock and covers your mouth with his own as he impales you, come what may. You whimper quietly at the force and girth of the intrusion. He stuffs your mouth with his tongue then his lips suck firmly against yours, swallowing your moan. You begin to regain your composure and he breaks the kiss to breathe heavily against your cheek. He tilts his pelvis down, pulling out half way, then lifts his hips into you, bottoming out again with a sigh. His strong arm holds you steady as he fucks you from the bottom.

Joel leans back, resting his head on a stack of pillows, and brings you with him. Your nipples harden against his soft t-shirt. He holds you still and thrusts into you, bouncing you on his cock as you’re both laid on your bed, you on top of him. Your head bobs up next to his with every thrust and you bite your lip to not make a sound. The springs of the mattress creak rhythmically.

He tightens his arm around you, holding you close to his chest, then lifts himself up with one forearm and flips you onto your back, still packed full of his cock. The silhouette of his face is gorgeous at this angle. With more control on top, his thrusts are smoother and deeper. He kisses you again as he accelerates his pace but still holds back to avoid rocking the bed. You moan ever so quietly into his mouth as you feel yourself about to come on his cock. “I’m-” you whisper.

“Quiet for me. You can do it, baby.” You pinch your eyes shut and try your hardest.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. "Hold it when you're there." Once you’re holding your breath, he grinds his pelvis into your clit as your hips lift into his and the head of his cock prods your g-spot. You exhale as you unravel. Your clit pulses and your walls choke his cock. "Breathe," he says between heavy breaths of his own. "Keep breathin', baby'." You take deep breaths and manage not to vocalize as your cunt flutters around him.

“Good girl,” he says, still fucking you through it. “You did so good, baby,” he whispers earnestly as he smoothly thrusts into you. He slowly, silently fucks you as you recover, then his breath becomes shaky and he says, “Feel it comin'?" His brow furrows and a drop of sweat falls onto your neck.

You nod.

"Want it bad, don't ya?"

You nod again. You always want him to come inside.

"Can't get enough of it, can ya?"

You shake your head.

"Good, 'cause it's a lot, baby.” He plunges to the hilt and pulses massively. You breathe and sigh quietly as he empties his balls into you. You close your eyes and writhe under him with aftershocks. "God damn, baby," he breathes. "You love it when I fill ya up."

He starts to pull out and you whisper, "Don't."

"Okay, princess." He rolls onto his back again and takes you with him still joined by his cock.

You rest on top of him and he strokes your shoulder softly until you drift off. You only wake up when his softening cock slips out of you and he gently rolls you onto your back again. He tucks you in and says, “Night, princess.” He plants a kiss on your forehead then on your lips before he sneaks back out your window.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging 💗💗💗

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #perv!joel miller #pedro pascal #pervy!joel miller #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#dbf!joel miller #joel miller one shot

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pennyellee · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER VI - súton

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 11,1K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VII

súton (n.) twilight; the approach of death or the end of something

Images flashed through her mind like fragments of a dream, mixing reality with a disorienting haze. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for what was to come. She was still in her temporary private quarters. Was it all just a dream? Confusion ran through Y/N like the hot blood inside her veins.

The engine of the roaring car pierced her ears and her vision was still blurry. “Where am I?” she whispered, her voice slowly progressing to realise the situation. She grabbed the letter seat, trying to pull herself up.

“Chan-yeol?” she asked, pressured.

“Little bird, are you ready to fly away?” he laughed. Y/N looked at him with terror in her pupils.

“Are you out of your mind? You just signed your own death certificate Chan-yeol!” This is bad. Her thoughts spoke to her in distress, each and one of them telling her to do something.

“What, a sudden change of heart? Did you not want me to ship you off to the new land?” said the man, accelerating the car.

“He’s going to slaughter everyone!” she screamed.

“You did not think of that when you ran the last time or the time before, why now Y/N?” He spitted his words out, looking at her through the mirror. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before she would lose her mind for good.

“He has the whole family on a silver platter there Chan-yeol! Turn the car right now!”

“We’re almost there.” He declared.

“Yoongi?!” was the first name that came to her mind. Voice full of fear. The sound of urgent footsteps echoed around her, crescendoing with the abrupt swing of the door. However, the one she sought, the man whose name she called, was not in her sight.

“Namjoon?” she called out, the surprise evident in her voice, interwoven with a thread of relief.

“How do you feel?” He asked, slowly approaching her petite form.

“What— I don’t understand,” she struggled to articulate her bewildered thoughts.

“You’ll thank me later.”

Chan-yeol’s words cut through the frosty air. He steered the car to the side of the road. Snow was everywhere she could see, each surface draped in ethereal white. Without waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete halt, Y/N flung the car door open, her steps bold as she ventured out into the wilderness.

The direction from which they arrived became a backdrop as she briskly distanced herself from Chan-yeol’s presence.

“This might be your last chance to flee this wicked world, girl.” His voice, heightened in intensity, reached her ears. Y/N stopped in tracks — the ultimatum clear.

Her family on one side, her newfound reality on the other – a choice lay before her.

“You have no idea what you just did!” she screamed defiantly, she refused to spare him a glance. “You’ve ruined everything!”

“Y/N?” a different voice echoed and her eyes widened at the unexpected interruption.

“I did not, Namjoon. I did not try to run away. You have to believe me!” Her words tumbled out in a frantic attempt to convey her innocence. Namjoon, his touch gentle, enveloped her small hands in his.

“Shhh… I know, it’s alright.” Namjoon cooed at the bride. And that’s when every single picture came back to her mind.

“How—how did you get here, for the love of God?” Y/N pivoted towards the speaking man, memories of their shared past flooding back as if the study hall of Shenyang’s University was just yesterday.

“I came for you,” he declared.

“For me?” She asked, disbelief in her voice.

“For me?!” she repeated, a frustrated laugh bubbling up. “Now you’re coming for me.” Y/N recalled the day he declared that she was in this battle alone, a stark contrast to their current proximity. They were never that close, he was too afraid to even hold her hand or maintain prolonged eye contact. But she considered him to be a friend, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he confessed, staring directly into her eyes.

“You love me?” She asked, mocking him, a bitter edge to her tone.

“Where was this love when I needed to run the hell out of the continent, huh?” She closed the distance between them, pushing him with aggressive force.

“You're a coward, Han Chen,” she spat, the venom in her voice cutting through the tension.

“I have a plan, Y/N,” he replied, brushing off her words even as they stung.

“Hmm… you have a plan. And what is this plan exactly?”

“He won’t want you if you’re ruined, Y/N.”

His words hit her like a cold gust of wind, and she gasped at the implications.

The haunting melody of that familiar song resonated in her mind once again.

“He—he attempted to rape me.” Y/N looked through her teary eyes directly at Namjoon's, whose mimics told her, she is right.

“He paid for that with his life.”

“You’re going to kill us all!” Her words became the truth once the first bullet was fired, finding its mark in Chen’s head. Y/N witnessed his eyes blackening, a vacancy replacing the spark of life.

He was gone. Blood dripped down his neck, staining her chest, her breath hitching as her vision blurred. Chan-yeol swore and fumbled with his gun, leaving Y/N to crumple to the ground, as he was tightly holding her down for the devil’s messenger to do the unforgivable.

Her eyes narrowed at the white sky. Chen’s lifeless body collapsing onto her smaller frame. Y/N’s hands trembled as she mustered the strength to slowly push his corpse away.

“Are you alright?” she heard him before she saw him above her.

“What about the wedding?” she asked, curiosity mingling with the shock that gripped her.

“We’ll proceed—” he answered, addressing yet another of her fears.

Speech and vision eluded her. “Y/N?” he asked again, gently throwing Chen’s lifeless body off her. “Darling, please say something.” His concern was palpable.

“Let me go, you fuckers!” Chan-yeol’s enraged screams echoed nearby. He hadn’t made a clean escape after all.

Hoseok helped her sit. Y/N’s eyes mirrored the emptiness that had claimed Chen’s.

“Darling?” Hoseok urged, attempting to coax her back to the present.

“—and hold a trial tomorrow.”

“Trail?” she asked, her voice fragile.

“Chan-yeol was a part of our clan. He is a traitor, and we’ll treat him as such.”

“And what about—”

She cast one more glance at Chen’s lifeless form before shifting her attention to Chan-yeol, struggling on the ground, surrounded by Min soldiers from whom she only recognised Jungkook.

“I want to go back, Hoseok-ssi. Please take me back.” Her voice wavered. Hoseok breathed out, relieved, helping her stand. As she turned to look at Chan-yeol, his screams pierced the air.

“Don’t look that way, sweetie,” Hoseok intervened, guiding her away from the chaotic scene. Only when they reached the parked cars, a good half a mile away from the unfolding drama, did she exhale and allow herself to close her eyes.

“Yoongi is beyond pissed. We could have avoided this if you would tell him about that foolish boy.”

“I swear, Namjoon, we were not... we did not—” she stammered.

“—I did not know he would come look for me nor do that….”

“Do not tell that to me, princess,” he sighed.

“I need you to get dressed. We have already postponed it, and we cannot do it any longer.”

“Sure,” were her only words to him.

“She called for you, brother,” the right-hand man spoke as he entered the boss’s office, where Yoongi was finally getting ready for the wedding.

“Explain,” the young groom responded while fixing his tux in front of the mirror.

“She called your name when she woke up.”

“Did she?” Yoongi felt a spark of hope that he would indeed become her person, her lover, her everything, just as she was to him.

The right-hand man chuckled at his questioning response, knowing it warmed Yoongi’s heart.

“Damn this one tradition; you should go and see her.”

“I would, but that would ruin the thrill, wouldn’t it, hmm,” he hummed.

“You’re getting married, brother.”

“Yes, today I’m getting married, and tomorrow I have to deal with a man who kidnapped my woman and let the other fucker almost rape her,” Yoongi spat, hitting the wall next to the mirror. He never felt greater anxiety than when Xiaoli said she was taken away from him. How ironic that he is to be the one who feels anxious.

Her mother crying, father screaming at everyone, younger sister praying. Yoongi had a feeling that she would not be that stupid to run away when he had her family inside the hotel.

“Nothing else will go wrong.”

“Did you greet the Yamamotos?” The Yakuza clan was invited to the wedding, a bold move, and what was even bolder—they accepted and arrived.

“I surely did, brother,” said Namjoon.

“Good,” Yoongi smirked, not expecting what is yet to come.

“Everything is as it should be.”

“I don’t want Y/N’s father near her until the wedding, Jungkook-ah,” requested Yoongi from the passive listener, seated just a few meters away on the sofa, sipping on his glass of white liquor.

“As you wish, Hyung,” he put the glass down and stood up, fixing his tux and putting on his white hat.

“And for fuck’s sake, patch those knuckles, aight?” Yoongi screamed playfully after him.

The temple, a sanctuary of weary souls, stood solemnly bearing witness to the union unfolding within its hallowed walls.

The bride, adorned in a crimson hanfu dress, with beautiful shining golden details on her long sleeves, walked the creaking wooden path towards the temple’s entrance, her steps heavy with the knowledge of what is awaiting her. The rich fabric of her dress billowed like a blood-red sea, a stark contrast to the pallor of her face that concealed emotions that dared not surface.

The courtyard was adorned with bright red and white paper lanterns when she passed it. She did not dare to look around at all the noble underground hats who had gathered to witness the union of two syndicates.

The flickering candles cast eerie, dancing shadows upon the ancient murals depicting forgotten legends. The distant sounds of the city, with its bustling streets and restless souls, provided a haunting contrast to the stillness of this timeless ceremony. The soft strains of the gayageum and the rhythmic beats of the janggu filled the air.

At the temple’s altar, the groom, equally somber in attire, awaited the bride. His eyes, like deep pools, hinted at the secrets he carried, secrets buried beneath, he wished to share with her.

The chants of the officiating monk resonated through the temple; a haunting reminder of the spiritual solace sought amidst the chaos of the outside world. Their union was a flicker of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to extinguish the spirit of a nation. She was not initially meant to be his, fate seemed to have favoured him, and Yoongi thanked the almighty for bringing her to him.

Y/N dared not look at him, her breath unsteady, visible puffs in the cold air. The gal held her head high nonetheless, she was desperately trying not to give in to her intrusive thoughts and turn around, flee for her life, try one last time.

The gun pressed to Daiyu’s back served as a grim reminder, preventing her from succumbing to intrusive thoughts. She could see the tears that were in her eyes as she held tightly her little son. Chan-yeol, held captive and beaten for sins he performed.

The eyes of the guests felt heavy, especially her father’s, still unamused by the young leader’s audacity, keeping his hand tightly on his neck. Forbidden from seeing his own daughter before the ceremony, he seethed with anger, his frustration directed at the young Kkangpae.

Y/N’s heartbeat echoed loudly as she climbed the stairs to stand face-to-face with Yoongi, trying to find the courage to look at him. His eyes were full of expectations, he was waiting for this moment.

The exchange of bows signified respect and commitment. If this would be a traditional wedding, not minding their social status in the syndicates, they would continue with drinking rice wine sikhye, symbolizing the blending of their lives.

But this was not a common wedding. This ceremony was different. Altered by the traditions of the Min Clan. The moment arrived when Y/N extended her palm to take the knife from Yoongi’s hands. A cup of rice wine awaited underneath, capturing every drop of her blood. Their union, a pledge of loyalty through soul, blood, and mind.

Y/N met Yoongi’s eyes as she applied pressure to the hand holding the knife, slicing through his skin. A sadistic flicker seemed to pass through his eyes, as if he was enjoying the pain she was inflicting on him.

The rice wine now mixed with their blood and the heavy silence was driving Y/N mad.

The young Kkangpae lifted the cup to her lips, her eyes locked with Yoongi’s. Observing his actions closely, she followed suit, and he took a far bigger sip than her, almost devouring it all.

Setting the cup down they both extended their wounded hands. The golden wedding band that Yoongi slipped onto her finger, seemed to match her engagement ring that sat before it, closer to her knuckle. Y/N couldn’t stop looking at her hand. This was an explicit symbol of her being a taken woman now. No one else to touch, to have, and in their world — to own.

“Darling,” Yoongi whispered quietly, but still managed to keep the demand in his tone visible. Y/N shook her head to get herself to think straight again, realising she had lingered too long on the rings, delaying the public ceremony’s final step.

Huffing out collected air, she slipped the wedding band onto Yoongi’s finger, uniting them.

The monk placed a thick crimson ribbon over their hands, proclaiming them man and wife. No vows echoed like in the far west, no intimate encounters within the public ceremony, despite Yoongi’s yearning to press his lips against hers.

Y/N knew very well that her father scoffed and cursed at the young leader yet again for choosing to follow his wedding traditions and not theirs. And ultimately, there was no paying respect to the elders.

Kkangpae does not bow down to anyone. Nor will his new bride.

Y/N was especially glad she does not have to do that nor the tea ceremony she always found dull. Not that she particularly enjoyed being controlled and swept by the demands of Yoongi’s clan.

The monk’s chants grew louder again, filling the temple with an eerie resonance. Y/N and Yoongi turned to face the gathered members of their syndicates, their families, and the underworld elite who had come to witness this union.

The banquet that followed was a lavish affair as is fit for the Min clan. The tables groaned under the weight of sumptuous dishes, and the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of delicacies prepared by the finest chefs. Nonetheless, Y/N could sense the atmosphere that was charged with tension. As if everyone was prepared to cast guns and kill each other.

Y/N felt the weight of her father’s glare before she could see him eye to eye. Her mimicry has shown nothing more but pure disgust when Wang Zemo shook the scarred leader’s hand congratulating them on their marriage. Y/N did not trust her father. His judgment was always clouded by power.

“You do not seem pleased, father,” Y/N remarked, exposing him. Her mother nervously laughed, hoping to prevent a disturbance between the two clans. She eyed him, expecting an answer from him.

“I’m not pleased that your husband allowed you to be kidnapped,” he retorted, making Yoongi squeeze Y/N’s hip, a possessive gesture.

“But he aided a rescue team in no time, daddy. Meanwhile, you could not even keep me at home,” Y/N fired back, laughing in her father’s face, not believing her own words defended the young Kkangpae that was now amusingly smirking next to her. She could see how her father’s brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, fuming at his daughter. Y/N can do that now, she does not owe her father loyalty anymore.

Her mother stopped him before he could raise his hand causing commotion within the two clans, instead he lifted his free arm pointing a warning finger at her. Y/N smiled sweetly and watched her mother pull his arm until he walked with her. Only when he was far away did she ask her new husband.

“Did he give you trouble when you asked for Xiaoli’s hand in marriage on behalf of Taehyung?” The young leader only hummed in response, his eyes were focused on something different from her now, and Y/N could not help but turn her head in the same direction as he was looking.

What unsettled her the most was the presence of Yamamotos. Yoongi nor anyone did not mention single tweet about these poisonous guests. Therefore, she felt her stomach rotate when they were approaching and for the first time in forever, Y/N pressed herself closer to Yoongi, intertwining their fingers together.

Of course, she feared them. She always viewed her father’s tactics and measures quite cruel. But if Wang Zemo was cruel than Yamamoto was brutal. And it was only natural to fear such a brutal syndicate as Yakuza.

“Congratulations, Min,” said the older male in Japanese. He did not bother to speak the tongue of his enemy’s territory, but he knew they would understand perfectly. The man had such a strong and intense aura around him. He ruled with fear, that thing was obvious.

He held his hand to Yoongi who accepted it for both your and his behalf, shaking it with firm grip, piercing his eyes alongside.

“You got yourself a fine woman, Min, —” he leered at Y/N, his gaze filled with hunger. A wave of disgust washed over her.

“She has caused you quite a bit of trouble, has she not?” he continued, finishing his remark. Y/N understood that their marriage was a calculated move that would redefine the power dynamics within the criminal underworld. Whether Yamamoto perceived the Mins as a threat remained an assumption on her part.

“Not as much trouble as you sending that foolish boy to his death,” Yoongi added, causing Y/N’s breath to hitch. Slowly, her eyes lifted to Yoongi, whose gaze now held an intensity that made the scar glow with anger. Y/N did not understand any bit of it. Had he not come willingly? No, that simply cannot be, there had to be an ulterior motive to commit such a sin.

“Certainly, we knew you would handle him and your bride just as you saw fit.”

“Surely, —” Yoongi replied with a dark undertone and a sinister smile. A wave of nausea rolled through Y/N. If they lingered in the presence of the Japanese Yakuza any longer, she might empty her stomach right there. Thankfully, they bid a seemingly cordial farewell, leaving to take their seats behind the tables and Y/N could at least breathe out.

“Yoongi—” she began once they were out of earshot. He cast her a brief glance before pivoting to examine her, noting her even paler face.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she stumbled the words out of her system fast. Y/N released Yoongi’s hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh God,” her sister’s whisper reached her ears, a reminder of their public setting, alerting her that she is still in public, and the eyes will pry.

Y/N swiftly walked — not ran, to avoid drawing attention — towards the nearest door leading outside to the cold. Once in the cold air again, she emptied her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Y/N heard her sister’s voice yet again, just before her hands were soothingly rubbing her back. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe the cold air in. She was grateful it was her sister offering comfort, not the groom. At least Xiaoli realized that Y/N wouldn’t want Yoongi to see her now. Nor any other prying eyes.

“It’s not okay, Xiaoli,” said Y/N through tears, feeling a profound, heart-wrenching anxiety and fear settling in her core.

“They fucking sent him to rape me, and God knows what else.”

“And he did not manage to do that. Hoseok took care of that. Jungkook took care of that, —”

Y/N recalled, her mind flashing to Jungkook storming into her room, his concern evident as he bombarded her with questions about her well-being. Guilt weighed on him for getting entangled with Chan-yeol instead of going straight to her. As her new brother, he felt an obligation to protect her, just like Hoseok, who would go to any lengths for her.

And that leaves Y/N to wonder. She pondered the sincerity behind their sympathy. Was it because of her supposed relationship with their brother, or was there a genuine connection forming? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if her aunt sensed the potential for them to become family, to be her home.

“—Leader Min will see to it that he is brought to justice,” Xiaoli continued, always sure to express her love for Yoongi.

Y/N looked down at her stained dress with a sense of pity, both for herself and the situation. A deep sense of sadness remained.

“I just wish it did not have to be this way,” she confessed, her voice filled with sorrow. “I wish I could have chosen this path for myself, rather than having it forced upon me.”

“But this is not the world or lifetime where you could do that,” her sister replied, and for a brief moment, Y/N felt a glimmer of understanding.

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “He used to be my friend; you know. Despite what he did, I never thought he would die in front of my eyes, —” her words held honesty, tinged with something else.

“And I never thought that I would be relieved they came in time and shot him dead, Xiaoli,” Y/N admitted, finally getting it off her chest.

“Taehyung-oppa said they paid him to do it.” Xiaoli disclosed. Y/N dreaded this scenario; she suspected that Chen did not act out of love for her. No one who loved someone would commit such a horrendous act.

Y/N scoffed, a desperate laugh escaping her. “Do you know what will happen to Chan-yeol?” She hadn’t had the chance to discuss this with Yoongi, leaving her in the dark and feeling consumed by it.

“He is held captive. That is all I know,” Xiaoli replied while helping Y/N stand. She needed to change her dress; there was no way she could return in this state.

“Y/N?” Xiaoli asked. Her older sister only hummed in response.

“If you attempt to run ever again, Daiyu is going to die—” Y/N paused for a moment.

“—He won’t hurt me, I’ll be betrothed to Taehyung-oppa. But Daiyu is still in the open.”

“Did you talk to her?” She asked.

“No,” Xiaoli replied, “but I talked to Kkangpae Min. He confirmed his intentions.”

“And it did not move you one bit?” Said Y/N surprised with what degree of calmness her sister is speaking of this.

Yoongi wanted to make it abundantly clear that he would take drastic measures if she attempted to escape again. He wanted her to fear the consequences, to be consumed by the dread of what might happen if she defied him; deliberately informing Xiaoli, knowing the bond between the sisters was a weak point for Y/N.

“I would not dare to go against his word.” Y/N only smiled sadly at her sister’s words. She does not understand. How could she?

The way to her chamber felt endless. Y/N was acutely aware of her disheveled state and the need for privacy. Another set of footsteps behind her and Xiaoli quickened her heart with anxiety.

“Y/N?” The soothing voice of the doctor, Seokjin, reached her ears, and she could not have been more relieved. Without turning around, she responded.

“I just need to change. I’m fine, Seokjin.”

Y/N wasted no time in stepping inside her room once they finally reached it. Seokjin followed, his demeanour calm and professional, yet she sensed a hint of concern in his eyes.

As she began changing out of the crimson robe from the wedding ceremony, Y/N couldn’t deny the unease that lingered within her.

“You can tell him I will be back in a little while, Seokjin.” Y/N turned to Seokjin, offering a weak smile.

“Are you sure you are feeling well?” Seokjin nodded; his expression was gentle.

“It’s just the anxiety.” Said Y/N. Her face still bore the traces of tears and turmoil, but she resolved to face the celebration with as much grace as she could muster. She knew that in the world she inhabited, appearances were everything.

Seokjin stood by the door, waiting patiently. “I’ll change and come right away,” she promised to the older male.

“Very well,” he answered simply and closed the door behind him leaving her and Xiaoli alone.

The intricate layers of fabric and silk were carefully removed, revealing a simpler, yet equally elegant, hanfu beneath — this one was a shade of soft lavender.

“Do you want to wear the hanbok instead?” Xiaoli asked. Does she? Just this morning, she insisted that her wedding dress will be a representation of the culture she is coming from. Looking over at the beautiful crimson and royal blue hanbok that she was supposed to wear as her wedding dress, Y/N hesitated.

“I don’t feel like wearing a wedding dress anymore, Xiaoli.” Her sister nodded in understanding, but beneath her supportive gaze, there lingered a hint of disappointment. Xiaoli had hoped that Y/N would fully embrace the culture of the Min clan, a desire likely shared by the clan’s leader. However, Y/N’s desire was to stay true to her Chinese roots for a little bit longer. If this is the only way she can remain herself, she is willing to rebel against him as long as she can.

She heard her sister sigh as she handed her the crimson flowery qipao. “You could at least meet him in the middle.” Xiaoli muttered, her disappointment evident.

“Xiaoli, if you did not notice I’m having a really bad day today.” Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. She had endured enough turmoil for one day, and the idea of appeasing Yoongi’s wishes no longer held much appeal.

“I understand—” Xiaoli wanted to say before Y/N interrupted her with the welling tears in her eyes and raised voice.

“No, you do not understand, Xiaoli!” Said Y/N, sliding down to a lower cushion chair, hugging her head with her small hands.

“But you are not even trying, Y/N,” Xiaoli retorted.

“Because I’m gasping for air every single time! I’m drowning, and yet I cannot learn to swim—” she cried out, clutching the fabric of her hanfu to the point she feared it would tear.

“All of you are blindly trying to convince me that this is the best that could ever happen to me—” she continued.

“—like you’re some kind of Gods that shall decide one’s fate.”

Xiaoli sighed, her frustration and discomfort evident. “All we do is care for you, truly, madly, deeply.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of despair and defiance.

“Are you listening to yourself, sister?!” Y/N did not even give her a chance to answer.

“—We are family, by blood, Xiaoli, I thought you cared about me to be more than just a pawn—” this time Xiaoli interrupted her older sister.

“And because we are family, I am trying to protect what matters to all of us.” Xiaoli knelt beside her, trying to console Y/N.

“What about what matters to me?” Y/N retorted; her voice shaky. “What about my dreams, my choices? He took that from me.”

Xiaoli hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “We all have to make sacrifices. And I know that you will make the best out of this.”

Y/N looked at her sister, a mix of disbelief and sadness in her eyes. “Is this the price of my freedom?”

“If this was another life, you could have what you truly desire.” Said Xiaoli. Y/N wiped away her tears before she spoke.

“I won’t let—” Y/N inquired.

“The consequences will be severe.” Said Xiaoli before Y/N could utter her thought as if she knew what she wanted to say.

“Remember that before you will do anything.”

The distant strains of music and laughter reached their ears when Xiaoli opened the door, walking through it in the direction of the celebration. Y/N put on a mask of composure, her posture regal, and her expression neutral. She couldn’t let anyone see the turmoil within her. Tonight, she would play the role expected of her, all while strategizing her next moves in this complex and dangerous game.

“Min Buin?!” a voice called out, unfamiliar and tinged with a strange mixture of reverence and unease — it sent a shiver down her spine.

A man stood right in the middle of the hall behind her. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit that exuded authority, a stark departure from the opulence of the occasion.

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder who this enigmatic figure was and why he had singled her out with that title,

“Min Buin?!” He repeated again. Y/N turned her head slightly to Xiaoli, now a few steps closer to the banquet, her expression wary.

“Who’s asking?” she demanded, a hint of protectiveness in her voice. The man did not seem to be perturbed by Y/N’s defensive stance. Instead, he offered a faint, cryptic smile.

“Do you not know?” His tone took a different direction. He stepped closer to them.

“Y/N,” Xiaoli gulped down, her voice trembling. “That is Yamamoto Itsuki.” By how her sister spoke Y/N understood that this is the very man she was supposed to marry.

“Go.” She whispered to her sister who did not hesitate to run down the corridor and alert anyone. Only once Y/N was sure that her sister was far away did she speak.

“What is your business with me?” Y/N asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. The man’s smile widened slightly, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in the dim light.

“Business?” He laughed. Y/N’s mind raced as she absorbed his words. She had been thrust into this world, initially a pawn in a dangerous game, but now it seemed that her role was evolving.

“I have unfinished business with you, yes.” He said after a few silent moments. Only her heavy breathing could be heard.

“I’m very much sure that a business between us never started in the first place; therefore, it seems to me we have nothing to talk about,” said Y/N, swiftly turning her body back to its original position, ready to flee to the banquet and seek help.

As she predicted, this day could only get worse as she found herself pinned to the nearest wall. Y/N could feel his breath on her face, a strong large hand enveloped her throat, pressing her to the wall harder and making it hard to breathe. Y/N’s breathing skipped intervals.

“You are one greedy ungrateful little bitch, are you not?” He spat the words into her face, squeezing her neck even tighter. Her hands automatically rose to his arm, trying to push him away. Her head started to spin, and she could feel the redness that rushed to her cheeks as she gasped for air that would fill her lungs.

“You were supposed to be mine!” His scream echoed in the empty corridor. Out of all the endings of her life, she truly did not foresee this one. There was a strike of a quick moment where she thought that death would be her redemption and eternal freedom she wished for. However, Y/N still had the will to fight for her life. She dug her nails into his arm, trying to push his hand away one more time, but he was too strong.

A click of a reloading gun seemed too muffled for her ears to notice, but when the sudden absence of pressure on her throat disappeared, and she could finally welcome the air in, she thanked God for being still in his favour.

Her knees have denounced their service, and she found herself on the ground. She went to touch her sore throat when a familiar hand did it before her. Y/N’s breath was still rocky, and she heard an annoying ringing in her ears. She barely could hear what Yoongi was screaming at the man who was recently near killing her.

“Y/N?” She heard Jimin’s voice, but she could not figure out where it was coming from. Her head was spinning like a carousel, and her vision was still a bit blurry. She wanted to speak up but she found it hard to do so.

“Can you breathe for me, darling?” She tried to stabilize her breathing but couldn’t stop panting for air.

“You have to try and calm down.” Seokjin was speaking to her, and by her blurry vision she saw another four figures around her. Two holding the younger Yamamoto for Yoongi, the other two attending to her.

Y/N went to try to speak again, even though she was fully aware that only high-pitched tones would come out that would make her words unrecognisable.

“I—” she tried, “I want—” she finally gulped down the little amount of saliva she had in her mouth.

“Bring her water right now.” Seokjin understood quickly. Her hearing was coming back to life and same for her vision. She could now see Jungkook and Hoseok dragging the man away from them, and Yoongi swiftly turning to examine the damage the man had done to his beloved.

By the time he fell down to his knees, cupping her cheeks, trying to read from her eyes, Jimin had returned with the water she needed. Yoongi helped her to hold the glass in both of her hands and drink it whole in one go.

“I do not want to stay here tonight,” she said with a raspy voice, feeling every muscle in her throat. Yoongi looked at her with worry in his eyes. He promised she would be safe with him, and within less than twelve hours, she was abducted, almost raped, and nearly choked to death.

“I am so sorry, baby,” said the young leader with remorse. “I am going to make it better, I promise.” Y/N’s ‘better’ however, contained something else than his ‘better’.

“We cannot leave right away—” tears escaped her eyes, falling heavy and hot on her dress. Yoongi was the Kkangpae and the enemy’s clan member just assaulted his wife. This cannot slip out without consequences.

“How dare you disrespect me and my wife this way,” said Yoongi to the older male from Yamamoto’s clan who had barely sat down in Yoongi’s office.

The younger offender, who had laid his hand on Y/N, was still firmly held by Hoseok and Jungkook. She sat in Yoongi’s office chair, a blanket draped over her shoulders, the purple bruises on her neck stark against her skin, certainly not flattering jewelry.

“How dare you disrespect our clan, Kkangpae Min.” The older male retorted, testing the younger leader’s patience. Yoongi clenched his hand into a fist, struggling to maintain control.

“This is far too unforgivable against what you assume I did,” he spat out quickly. Y/N wished she could just hide away and never come back, but as the Kkangpae’s wife, a Buin, she had to be present.

Yamamoto scoffed. “You are playing the game dirty, so are we—”

“Take this as a payback for meddling in our affairs, Kkangpae Min—” the older male started.

“And as far as traditions goes, she is yet to be your woman by our law and God’s will,” alluding to the inevitable — they had to consummate the marriage. Y/N knew this and had been making peace with the fact throughout the day.

“You won’t have to worry about that, Mr. Yamamoto,” Yoongi was always known for his cockiness whilst dealing with enemies, but he was also the most cautious man alive, however today was a misstep he did not wish to ever make. All this only proved he could not leave her alone — not because she might flee, but because someone could take her away from him. And he would never let her go.

“Watch me fucking continue meddling—” Yoongi retorted. “I see that you know the goddamn rules; I shall have his hand.” Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She did not expect him to go unpunished for what he did to her, which would make Yoongi look unfit to rule. Itsuki started to squirm in their hold, attempting to break free.

“You want a war?” Yamamoto asked with venom in his voice.

“You apparently desire to have it when you assaulted my wife twice in one day.” Yoongi spat and signaled to Hoseok to bring Itsuki forward. Jungkook grabbed the hand that had been on Y/N’s neck less than an hour ago.

“Father!” Itsuki screamed with madness in his voice.

“Here you have it, you impatient imbecile!” his father screamed back at him, frustrated with both himself and his son. The plan had been to warn the Mins, not infuriate them.

Y/N watched Yoongi wordlessly as he took a short katana from Namjoon who appeared out of nowhere. The blade was sharp as a viper’s fang, and it gleamed in the dim light sourcing from the fireplace. The hilt, wrapped in silk, the colour of dried blood, felt cool and ominous in Yoongi’s hand.

She knew he’d have to swing it more than once to actually cut off Itsuki’s hand. Y/N gulped down her fear, pressing both hands to her mouth to stifle the scream that escaped when he first wielded the blade, piercing through Itsuki’s skin and colliding with bone, breaking it open. Burgundy blood streamed down to the wooden floor. Y/N clenched her eyes shut at the painful scream that followed and bounced slightly on the chair at the loud thump of the hand hitting the ground.

“You have one hour to leave our land,” Yoongi declared, aiming the katana at the leading Yamamoto. The son dropped to the ground, cradling his arm, staring at the severed hand and screaming in pain, muttering threats to the Min clan.

“You chose.” The older male looked over to Y/N who was still very much speechless and in utter shock from what occurred before her eyes. Yoongi’s gaze, momentarily lingering on his wife with furrowed brows, but quickly returned to Yamamoto. Their eyes locked, and the older man extended his hand to retrieve his injured son from the floor, leading him out of the room.

Yoongi dropped the katana onto the ground, tilting his head backwards in a brief prayer to the Lord. The room remained cloaked in heavy silence — not a peaceful silence, but one pregnant with the weight of a grim decision. A choice had been made, and its consequences were bound to unfold in darkness. This was a proclamation of war.

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the spot where Yamamoto’s hand was laying limp in a pool of fresh blood. As Yoongi straightened and turned his gaze toward her, his eyes were a tempest of conflicting emotions.

“You chose.”

Yoongi echoed Yamamoto’s words more as a question, his voice carrying a low, sombre resignation. He did not demand an answer; he knew what Yamamoto was talking about. Glancing down at his black shoes, now soaked with the blood of his enemy, Yoongi let out a soft laugh at the irony of her choosing him.

He understood the possibility that her choice might stem from self-preservation, realizing he could annihilate her entire family the moment she disappeared. Yet, his own selfishness shielded him from that harsh reality. Yoongi desperately wanted to believe that she returned to him and him alone.

Her eyes grew too heavy to stay open during the car ride back to the sanctuary. She allowed them a brief respite, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her into a momentary rest. The events of this day had been like a tempest, tearing through the delicate fabric of her reality and leaving chaos in its wake.

Y/N’s strength was something Yoongi admired, yet even he recognized the toll this day had taken on her. The hypocrite in him thinking that kind of evil will lead her to seek solace in him, perhaps finding that this was where she truly belonged — by his side.

She could have turned and run when the chance presented itself, disappearing into the wild. But she did not, and that is what mattered to Yoongi. For the first time, Y/N found herself yearning to return to the sanctuary, back to her golden cage.

Y/N knew that this night would be a reflection of the complexities of their relationship, a dance between desire and the darkness that surrounded them. Y/N understood that despite the arduous day, this had to be done. Bracing herself, she stepped out of the car and into the dark.

She walked slightly behind her now husband, letting him lead the way to the house she did not quite recognise. Before she mustered the courage to ask questions, he spoke first.

“I grew up in this house—” he whispered into the cold air, “a hot spring is right behind it.”

Y/N observed the house built into the massive stone walls of the valley, surrounded by tall pine trees. It was too dark for her to see just how tall they actually are, but the little flickering lights visible through the windows granted her a little peak.

“I want to spend tonight with you here,” he turned to face her. Yoongi could not tear his gaze away from her, adoring every detail—her eyes, cheeks, nose, hair, mouth. But if you would ask him, how did he come to be so obsessed with her, he would not give a cohesive answer. The inexplicable obsession he felt seemed right, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. He believed that even if she did not feel it now, she would eventually.

“Just the two of us.”

He took a little step to be closer to her. If Y/N understood correctly, this is the only place where they can be truly alone without prying eyes and ears. Yoongi wanted to talk and what’s more, he intended to do more than just talk tonight.

“Aight,” she replied slowly with her still sore throat. He had never seen her this calm, and he wanted to enjoy every minute she is not fighting against him — despite the disturbing circumstances that led to her current state of mind.

“Can we have some tea first?” she asked with little hope that he would agree to slow down a little bit. He chuckled at her sudden innocence and extended his arm to caress her cheek.

“Course we can, my love,” he smiled softly.

And so, they found themselves once again by the comforting embrace of a fireplace, patiently waiting for the tea to brew in the teapot’s gentle whistle.

There was something about this scenery that Yoongi could not help but love. Y/N, seated on the fur rug next to the warmth of the crackling flames, found solace in these quiet moments. After the tumultuous events of the day, it was a sanctuary they both needed. At least, she felt at peace in moments like these.

“I am sorry.” he suddenly confessed, his eyes revealing the genuine sorrow within. Today had left Yoongi conflicted, riding the highs of marrying the woman he desired while being weighed down by guilt for the day’s events.

Y/N met his gaze, her voice devoid of emotion as she calmly asked, “About what exact part?”

“All of it,” he shook his head. Y/N chuckled, and confusion flickered in Yoongi’s eyes.

“Are you not going to punish me, Kkangpae?” Here she goes.

“I do desire to know your relation to the boy, I won’t lie, but no.”

“There is no relation.”

“Are you sure? We talked about this already — no lies.”

“I’m not lying, he did fancy me, yes—” Yoongi’s grip on his hands tightened.

“—I thought we were friends, but he was not keen to flee away with me when I needed to,” she admitted.

“Do you mourn him?” Yoongi’s voice held a serious tone.

“I mourn the boy he was, not what he apparently became after we parted—” she began, carefully, collecting her thoughts.

“—they paid him to go and attempt rape me, Yoongi. I pray for his soul to find its peace after what sins he committed,” a tear escaped her eye, a sob followed. Yoongi leaned in, holding her small hands in an attempt to provide comfort.

“It was horrible,” she cried out and finally, she opened up to him.

“Amidst all the bad today, I’m so proud of you—” Y/N raised her blurry eyesight to meet him, awaiting an explanation.

“—You could have run, and you did not. You chose to come back to me.”

“I promise, I swear to you — I will never ever let that happen again—” he assured, moving closer to her.

She took a deep breath, summoning the courage to address the yet unspoken. “Can I get the letter, please?” Y/N whispered.

“In the morning.” He answered, intending to prolong it to ensure her continued good behaviour and obedience.

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited.

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

The hanok, with its wooden beams and paper windows, seemed to breathe with the rhythm of their footsteps. The aroma of tea still lingered within the walls, all the way back in the house.

“Pray with me?” a soft plea that resonated with the hallowed surroundings. They settled on top of the low cushion bed; he held both her hands in his. The subtle sounds of the valley outside, muffled by the hanji-covered windows, crackling fire nearby — the low hum of their shared prayer filled the room, blending with the whispers of the winter wind outside.

As they concluded their prayers, the world outside the hanok continued its silent ballet with nature. Yoongi slowly let her hands fall into her lap. Y/N kept looking at her hands, biting her lower lip.

He extended his hands pulling out the golden pins from her hair, releasing them.

“You are magnificent,” he whispered into her lips that were anticipating his. She looked into his eyes one last time before she slowly closed them, awaiting him to take the first step. Y/N could feel both his hands on the swell of her bottom, slightly squeezing it and thus making her pant into his mouth. He pulled her into his lap, not distancing their close proximity. Not now. Not ever.

A deep groan released from his throat when she fully sat down in his lap. Y/N was straddling him, feeling his stiff manhood tightly pressed against her core making her breath hitch. He moved his hand from its place on her butt cheek to the swell of her clothed breast.

“Let me make love to you.” He kissed her lips very gently, waiting for her response. She knew he would do so even if she would not give him her consent. And once she shyly nodded her head, he dove right in and kissed her very deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He was hungry and only she could sate him.

He continued to press himself against her core, creating at least some friction in between, aiming to hit the right spot and make her sing for him.

Yoongi was trying to trace down the opening of her qipao, feeling the delicately made buttons on her chest. Not for a moment he stopped kissing her, unbuttoning her dress and hiking it up from its hem on her thighs, showing her undergarments and pulling it all the way up her head —throwing the peace of clothing that provided her warmth, perhaps even a security blanket, away.

Her neck was his next target. He bent his head making hers to lean back to allow him access. Yoongi layered down butterfly kisses all over her, now, naked, bruised neckline. “You are such a good girl.” He muttered into her skin, caressing her bottom while he placed his hand back to her right breast.

Y/N could feel her nipples stiffen under the change of temperature, or perhaps the excitement her body was going through, which she did not want to admit. He took one of her hands who were inactive till now and placed it on his chest near the small buttons of his shirt. Trying to send a mental message for her to touch him too — undress him too.

Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to come to her senses. Out of this ectasis. But she could not. His work on her neck was becoming troublesome, not mentioning his roaming hands. She was never touched by man lovingly, but she could not deny that he is making her heart skip just by teasing her.

Her small shaky fingers finally reached to the buttons whilst he was abusing her chest with hot kisses. She unbuttoned the first one, then the second until she reached the last. “That’s it baby.” He encouraged her to continue slipping his shirt down from his body.

He straightened himself and looked deeply into her eyes, his voice filled with desire and longing. “I love you.” Said Yoongi when he slowly slid his hand in between them cupping her clothed heat. Millions of little butterflies erupted in her lower belly, her breath hitched, silent moan coming out of her swollen lips when he started to rub circles, moving her clitoris through the fabric. She could feel herself leaning into him, her body responding to his touch.

The room was filled with an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. He caressed her back until he reached the opening of her western style cone bra that she wore under the dress. Popping it open her eyes snapped open too. But the pleasure was overshadowing her sound judgment, and he knew she would at some point try to resent him a little, that’s why he did not hesitate to throw it the same direction as her qipao, not wasting time and taking her already hard nipple into his mouth. Her eyes widened; pupils dilated.

He was taking his sweet time loving her every inch before he laid her down on the bed, hovering above her. Dominating her. Yoongi’s hands moved with a gentle urgency, his kisses becoming more fervent as their passion ignited. He hooked his fingers into her undergarments, not giving her a chance to protest when he quickly pulled them down her legs, tepid air hitting her centre.

It’s when he went to spread her legs touching her knees she took his wrist into her small hand, looking deep down into his eyes, tears swelling in, realisation hitting her. Yoongi did not seem to be angry or displeased. He understood why this action triggered her and therefore he led her hands to his belt, giving her a chance to yet again give him her consent to proceed. He wanted her to fall in love with him, not to fear him. He dreaded the day when he will have to use different measures to convince, she is his woman and no one else can touch her.

The little rat was a big mistake. Yoongi did not expect him to go as far as to attempt to rape her. But he knew that the boy was coming. He knew it’s Yakuza’s move, and he knew when they would strike,and he was ready. What he wasn’t ready for was Chan-yeol’s betrayal. Nobody is betraying Kkangpae Min, nor no one will dare to touch his wife after what he will do to the traitor.

“You’re alright, baby.” He attempted to assure her, putting her small hands on his belt. Y/N’s fingers were yet again shaking when she was undoing his belt. She was now fully aware of her laying naked body. She could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin.

As Yoongi’s belt came undone, he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength and resilience that radiated from her. She had endured so much in such a short span of time, yet here she was, willingly surrendering herself to him.

He pulled down the pants, together with his undergarments. A loud thud followed once they fell down to the floor. He bent down to her belly and placed a small kiss just below her belly button and one slightly lower to her yet uninhabited womb.

“I need to help you relax your muscles a little.” Said he. She felt his hot breath on her inner thighs, shaking in his hold. He slid his hand down to her core yet again, touching her without any barrier for the first time. Y/N took a deep breath and another one when he slid his finger down her folds and up, making her pussy produce wet juices. His lips were on her collarbone when he unexpectedly slid his index finger inside her making her moan loudly, yelp even.

“Shhh…” He cooked at her, kissing her lips passionately, while thrusting his finger slowly in and out of her heat. She could feel a prick of pain in the area Yoongi’s finger occupied. Y/N’s moans became a mix of moderate pain and pleasure altogether.

She could feel his other hand move away from caressing her hip to his member which he started to slowly stroke. Y/N could see that he was more than ready — his cock big, stiff and red, pre-cum leaking from its tip. He wanted to dive into her heat badly. But he needed to stretch her out a little more, so she won’t suffer that much pain. Yoongi smiled when he spotted her eyeing his body through half-lidded eyes, panting, yet being focused specifically on his manhood.

He towered above her, pulling his finger out of her heat. Sudden emptiness surrounded her walls that were finally adjusting to the intruder. She gasped when she felt his hands pulling her closer to him. Her legs were on each side of his hips. Y/N observed his body, his toned skin, slight muscles, his well-built torso — all the way down his V line, adorned with soft hair.

She snapped out of her thought train once he climbed on top of her and pressed his manhood in between her folds, sliding it up and down, covering it in her juices. Moan escaped her mouth once he put a little bit of pressure, stimulating her clitoris. He moved his hips slowly, trying to hold himself to not to thrust it in just yet.

He raised his left hand and intertwined his fingers with hers pinning it above her head while attacking her lips again. Y/N’s hand instinctively slapped his chest trying to push him away just a little, but his little smirk into her lips assured her that he wanted that kind of reaction from her.

And when she awaited it the least, he thrust himself into her, making her bite down his lower lip. He groaned at the sensation. His lip was bleeding, but he could not care less. “No—” She let go of his lip and an incoherent sound came out of her throat, eyes welling up with tears.

“Yoongi, it hurts too much.” She stated the obvious, crying whilst trying to breath. Enormous heat wave just hit her, and she was desperately wanting to make her head stop spinning.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispered into her lips, trying to take his own breathing under control. She feels like heaven to him. His everlasting home. His love. This is where he was supposed to be all his life.

He tried to move very slowly, making her cry even more, but he couldn't stop. “It will stop I promise.” He kissed her tears away, stretching her walls to the fullest with his manhood. Silently moaning into her lips.

It took quite a while for her to adjust to the stretch and tension, fullness inside of her. Yoongi explored every inch of her naked body, his hands caressing her with a gentleness that belied his previous actions. In this moment, she was not defined by the traumas of her past or the expectations of their marriage. Their bodies moved in perfect sync once the pain yielded a little.

The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled loud moans and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the fireplace mirrored the growing heat between them, intensifying the pleasure that coursed through their veins.

Yoongi’s movements became a little faster, more deliberate to draw as much pleasure from her as he could. He wanted to show her that their union was not solely physical but a one of love. With each whisper of reassurance and each gentle caress, he aimed to erase any lingering fears and insecurities that she held.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy after a while, he could feel her shaking against him. But not from fear but from pleasure. He mustered what he could to take her over the edge for the very first time in her life. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach tying somewhat knot that she wanted them to release badly. Her hand slipped into his hair, tucking it tightly whilst he was thrusting into her heat, making her moan loudly into his mouth. He was very close, but he wanted her to come with her. And as they were reaching the peak of passion, their bodies trembling with pleasure, Yoongi held Y/N close, their hearts beating in sync.

Their moans became louder and louder every second they were nearing the summit. “Yoongi—!” she screamed his name out when she was sure the knot was about to burst. “Baby—” he could not even finish a sentence he meant to say once she came undone under him, trembling from the pleasure, her mouth agape, eyes tightly closed — her walls still vibrating around him. Not even a second later his loud cry followed as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside of her. His eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily. When he opened his eyes, she was already looking at him, her mouth still slightly open as she was panting. Her eyes seemed glossy but so were his. He caressed the side of her thigh whilst gently kissing her swollen lips, whispering how much he loves her.

Slowly pulling out of her heat, substituting with his fingers plunging his cum mixed with hints for crimson blood, back into her heat he lowered his body yet again to her belly. Kissing where he assumed her womb was, he whispered a prayer.

“May the Lord bless us with a miracle.”

I N T E R L O G U E

The father’s rage reverberated in the confined space of the car. “You could not have just fucking waited, you little prick!” his frustration boiling over.

Still grappling with the pain of his missing arm, the one-handed son shot back defiantly, blood seeping through the bandages “You said everything would work out in our favour!”

The car they were sitting in was slowing down until it stopped altogether. The older male looked around in confusion. They were nowhere near the docks for their escape to Fukuoka.

“It would if you’d just shut your damn cock instincts, you stupid boy!” the Yakuza leader hissed, attempting to keep his anger in check.

Blinded by fury, he failed to notice the car taking a series of wrong turns, leading them into a desolate no man’s land. When the driver turned to face them, blood reached his ears.

“Kkangpae Min sends you good wishes on your journey to hell.”

to be continued

author's note: f finally yall!!!!! as I already said this chapter was a lot, ain't gonna lie about that, but everything is going according to the plan so don't worry. This was my first smut in english and I'm so scared of yall's reaction... Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was an emotional roller-coaster to write, especially the implied non-con and smut after all the reader had to endure, poor gal. I love to see your comments that basically express that you understand the story's essence and for that I love you all so much ♥ We'll see what will happen in next chapter :))

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter! Love you bae!!!!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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