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oneforthemunny · 14 days ago

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hold my heart and watch it burn |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|

prompt: your first christmas apart and it's proving to be a lot harder and lonelier than you thought.

contains: i mean, you know i'm gonna write christmas angst lmao. so angst. divorce. ex-husband!eddie. dad!eddie. mentions of loneliness. of fighting. language. holiday blues. divorce blues. just sad but a little better at the end? maybe? kinda?

"Jude!" Your voice drops, breathy with a stern hiss that your eight year old ignored, running ahead through the crowds of people bustling through the ridiculously busy Starcourt Mall.

Lucy's small hand in yours, you pulled her through the crowds of people, dodging a woman and her twenty shopping bags that swung when she turned, nearly taking you out.

"Jude Wayne, stop." A rare tone of your voice came out, void of it's usual lightness that you always used with the kids- a tone that you usually reserved for their father.

"Woah," Your shoulders tensed, fighting back a grimace at the squeal Lucy let out, wringing her hand out of your grip. Speak of the devil, you thought, lips pursing to hold back the snarl you wanted to give. You wouldn't, not in front of the kids, no- you'd keep it civil for them, even though you wanted to smack the smug, dimpled grin that greeted you when you did finally look at him.

"Hi, sweetheart." Eddie hummed, eyes rolling over your figure, hoisting Lucy on his hip.

Your lips twisted, fighting back an eye roll. "Hi," You snapped curtly, turning to Jude, bending at your knees to get to his level. "Jude, you can't run through the mall, honey. You have to stay with me-"

"-Ah, he was just excited, baby." Eddie grinned, nodding at the young boy, who looked so much like him. "Weren't you, Jude?"

"Yeah, Mama." Jude nodded, lips curling in a positively sweetly devious grin- just like his Daddy's. You could feel your heart melting already. "I just want to see Santa. I hafta tell him the things on my list or he'll-"

"-You will, Jude." You sighed, the start of a headache pulsating dully at the base of your skull. "We'll walk to the line right now, and you both can tell Santa what you want, ok?"

Jude nodded, still walking ahead in quick, excited steps. Your eyes cut to Eddie, looking past him towards Lucy. "Surprised you showed up on time." Your tone clipped, quiet enough that the kids couldn't hear but that he did.

Eddie scoffed, a snort of air. "Showed up on time to see my kids? That's not very nice." Eddie's tone stayed light though his eyes narrowed when they looked at you.

"The truth isn't always nice, is it?" You quipped, turning forward to look at Jude.

"You act like I don't come to every thing they do." Eddie retaliated, a low hiss in his tone that left your jaw clenching with a familiar bubbling rage. "Really trying to make me into the deadbeat dad, hm?"

"I can't make you into anything." You scoffed. "But if the shoe fits-"

"-You're really doin' this?" Eddie's voice dropped, jaw ground tight with irritation. "Really? Today you're gonna start this?"

"I'm not starting anything." You snapped, a little louder than you meant to, eyeing Jude and Lucy carefully. "You're the one who's usually late to things. It's a fact."

Eddie scoffed, a light airy laugh leaving his lips that made your blood boil, nails digging into your balled fists. "Please. You think I don't know what this is about?"

"What?" You snapped, brows furrowed at him.

"Oh, c'mon, you're pissed about Trina." Eddie turned, looking at you fully.

You knew he had to see the way your heart dropped, sinking into a burning pit in your belly, filled with ache.

Trina was a bartender at The Hideout, she'd been one since you and Eddie had started going, and one you'd always felt a little wary of. The way she'd giggle and bat her eyes at Eddie- she'd been a catalyst to a few fights when you were still together.

Last Saturday morning, Eddie was late coming to the house to get the kids.

"Rough night?" You giggled, his hair wild, eyes puffy with lack of sleep- a look you'd seen too many times before, one that was always a sign he was hungover.

"Yeah, sorry, I forgot to set my alarm last night. I went out, and got a little... ya know," Eddie had muttered, running a hand down his face. "Had to shower because I smelt like smoke and didn't want Lucy's allergies actin' up, and I had to take Trina to her apartment, then I had to get gas, and-"

"-Trina?" You'd nearly spat. "From-From The Hideout, Trina?"

"Yeah, we, uh, we kinda went out last night." Eddie wouldn't meet your eyes, looking anywhere but at you. "I mean, you've been goin' on dates, and... ya know." He lifted his hand, nervously running his fingers through his bangs, a habit he'd always had.

You noticed the gold band missing from his left hand for the first time since your wedding, stomach dropping as he walked in, greeted by your children's excited squeals.

You were sick in the bathroom after that.

Now, your stomach still flipped, still burned with a familiar nauseating ache. Standing in line, trying to feign excitement listening to Jude and Lucy babble on and on about what they wanted Santa to bring them, trying to ignore the spiraling thoughts that consumed your mind.

The same thoughts that kept you up at night, tear stained cheeks pressed into the pillow next to yours, that still smelled like Eddie- the one he'd slept on three nights before his date with Trina. Did he know he was going out with her when he laid there next to you? Was he thinking of her when he had slid into you that same night? When he kissed you so fiercely, so full of love that it left you dizzy, did he wish it was her instead?

A piercing wail of a infant cut through your thoughts, taking another zombie like step towards the front of the line. Jude was bouncing, eyes so wide an intense, honed in on the older man in a red suit juggling the screaming baby to a photo.

"What're you gonna ask for Luce?" Eddie hummed, bouncing the four year old on his hip with a grin.

"Play Doh," Lucy gave a toothy smile. "The ones where you can make the rings." She shoved her chubby finger towards Eddie with emphasis.

"Oh, you gonna make some rings for Daddy?" Eddie grinned, glowing from the inside out- damn him, he was a good dad. Your heart fluttered when he wiggled his own fingers at her playfully, rings shining dully under the white Christmas lights of the mall. "I've been needin' some new ones."

Lucy laughed, silly infectious giggles that had your lips tugging in a grin, your hand smoothing over the wool of Jude's jacket. "You ready Luce? You're next." You cooed, stepping up to the bright candy caned line.

A bored teenage 'elf' looked at you with a less than jolly expression, waving them over as the kids ahead went bounding towards the mall Santa.

"Stay with Jude. Hold her hand, Jude. We'll be right over here." Your voice tightened, not moving until her hand was in his, scampering towards the next marker. "Smile pretty!"

"C'mon," Eddie muttered, his hand softly on the small of your back. "They're good."

You glared at him, huffing and pulling away from his grasp. "Don't talk to me like that."

Eddie sighed, tired and bored. "Like what?"

"Like that," You sneered, voice low as you stood behind the gate with the other parents, watching their kids as they told Santa their lists. "You don't have to be so condescending."

"Condescending." Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, just like that." You snarled, turning away from him, lips in a tight, annoyed line. "Like you always are."

Eddie nodded, slowly, tongue running on the inside of his cheek. There was a tense pause, both of you looking forward wordlessly.

"Look, I don't know what pissed you off so bad, if it's the Trina thing or-"

"-Can you not do this?" You bit in a hushed hiss. "Watch your kids. Don't make this about us." Your chin jerked towards Jude and Lucy, who were too enthralled with climbing on the fake sleigh to look back at two of you, which you were thankful for.

Eddie laughed humorlessly, an airy, unamused snort of air and you could feel him stiffening beside you. "Fine."

The eye roll you gave was so fierce it left you with a headache between the brows, fingers tapping on your crossed arms, trying to ignore him- to be present for your kids, enjoy and embrace the moment, but dammit was it hard. When he always had to have the last fucking word. Flashbacks of countless fights spun through your mind like a rolodex.

You managed enough cheer to mask the tension, greeting Jude and Lucy with their waving candy canes. "Did you tell Santa what you wanted?" You cooed, a hand running over Lucy's head.

"Yeah," Jude hugged your waist. "I told him I'd been really good, but will you tell him too, Mama? When you talk to him later."

You smiled, warm with content at his childlike innocence. "Of course." You nodded. "Let me pay for your photo and you can take it to Papa Wayne-"

"-I got it." Eddie muttered, still not looking at you, already flicking through the bills of his wallet, handing them to the cashier dressed like a elf.

"Let me pay you my half." You frowned, slinging your purse forward, pulling the zipper.

Eddie shook his head with an eye roll, nodding at the cashier, before stepping to the side. He sifted through the change in his palm, plucking out two quarters and handing them to Lucy and Jude. "Here, go get something out of the gumball machine."

Lucy and Jude squealed with excitement, bounding towards the array of candy and toy machines in the middle of the mall, ignoring your shout of warning.

"They already have a candy cane." You looked at Eddie with a bored expression. "So you're giving them more sugar?"

"Jesus Christ, it's the holidays." Eddie huffed. "Thought this was your favorite holiday?"

"It is." You countered, arms crossing over your frame defensively.

"Then quit bein' so mean." Eddie shook his head. "Just 'cause you're pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed at you." Your lips pressed in a hard line. "Not everything is about you."

Eddie let out a laugh, teetering on mocking and mean. "I- you know what, I give up." He shook his head. "Stay in your foul mood, whatever."

His hand fell on the white envelope on the counter, pulling the small photo out, handing it to you. "Here. Merry Christmas." His words fell flat, filled with irritation. "I'll have them back by eight tonight."

You fought back a snarl, looking at the grinning face of your children on the glossy photo, two identical smiles that reminded you so much of the man you loved- used to love.

"C'mon, let's go see Papa." Eddie clapped, grinning at the kids. "Tell Mama bye." His eyes met your with a forced grin, teeth nearly baring at you.

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, bending to hug each of them, pressing a kiss to their cheeks. "Be good, ok? Tell Papa I said hi."

Your eyes met Eddie's, a beat of silence between both of you, nearly challenging the other to speak first, to admit defeat. Neither of you did.

Eddie gave a curt nod, turning in the opposite direction with your children through the ever growing crowd.

You felt incredibly lonely, walking to your car silently, a sinking feeling in the pit of your tummy.

"Fuck-" Your fingers brushing the tip of the box, pushing it further back onto the shelf, away from your grasp.

Your annoyed huff echoed off the concrete of the garage walls, settling back on your tip toes. "Are you fuckin' serious? Ed-" Your words were strangled in your throat, heart dropping with sudden realization.

He wasn't here.

You should've been used to it by now. The house was empty, quiet even with the stereo playing. You'd turned it on, shoved a worn Christmas cassette tape in and tried to drown out the miserable silence that filled the house.

It used to be a tradition, just for the two of you. You and Eddie would drop the kids off at Wayne's going back home to wrap all the gifts you'd hidden. Eddie was always in charge of that, hiding them in the hard to reach, clever places around the house. You'd make hot toddies on the stove, Eddie would put on your favorite Christmas cassette without asking, and you'd spend the evening wrapping gifts.

Your first Christmas, Eddie had been so excited, positively beaming as you wrapped little onesies and teething toys- small gifts for Jude, but Eddie still boasted with pride. "Can you believe we're really doin' this? We're parents. Real parents wrapping real gifts for our real kid. Isn't- That's just fuckin' insane."

Now, you were alone, wrapping gifts for your kids and filling out the gift tag just to them for the first time in years.

The feeling was anything but joyful, sitting on your couch alone while Rudolph played lowly in the background. The hot toddy you'd made didn't nearly lift your spirits the way you hoped. No, if anything, it only made you feel worse.

Maybe it had been a mistake- the divorce. The thought had consumed you since you'd heard about Trina. Maybe Eddie was right, maybe the divorce was too much. Maybe you should have gone to therapy instead. Why else would you be feeling like this? Alone and miserable and full of regret. Were you just jealous? Was it the longer, darker days and colder weather messing with your mind? Or was it really that you-

"Hellooooooo!" Jude's sing-songy scream had you jumping, the hot liquid sloshing over the edge of the mug, splashing on to your reindeer printed pajamas.

"In here." Your voice was tight, not passing for the cheery tone you were hoping.

Two sets of feet bounded towards you as you set down your mug. Jude and Lucy came in, babbling with excitement about their day with Papa Wayne, still in their snow boots and coats.

"Mama, we saw Papa today an-and he asked me if I could make him some extra reindeer food so he can have some for his roof too, so Santa doesn't miss him." Jude jumped in your lap, eyes bright and wild as he told his story with excitement.

"Did he?" You grinned, unzipping Jude's jacket gently. "We'll have to make him some, won't we?"

"Yeah." Jude nodded, looking over at the tree. "Are those for us?" His eyes widened.

"Not until Christmas." You pointed at him. "Or I'll take them all back."

Jude pouted, eyes darting towards the screen. Your eyes cut towards Eddie as he helped Lucy out of her little snow boots, shimmying them off carefully and putting them by the door. The ache in your chest only grew.

You stood, crossing the living room towards the entry way. "Hey, Luce," You cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head when she flung herself at you. "Did you have fun today with Papa?"

"Yeah," Lucy giggled, hanging off your leg. "We gotta see the lights."

"The neighbors," Eddie muttered, his gaze not meeting yours, looking at Lucy instead. "They have a bunch of light displays now. Decked out the whole trailer. She really liked it."

"That sounds like fun." You smoothed a hand over her head. "Why don't you go see what Jude's watching? Let me talk to Daddy for a minute. Ok?" You tracked her as she bounded towards the living room, plopping next to Jude on the couch.

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between you and Eddie before you even turned around.

"So, um," You swallowed, rocking back and forth on your slippered toes. "Sounds like they had a good time." You lifted your head, looking up at Eddie.

"Yeah, they had fun." Eddie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, eyes flickering from you to the frilly garland over the door. That same dreaded pause came back, filling the space between you.

"I'll head out," Eddie broke the silence, your heart lurching at his words. "I'll, uh, be back tomorrow morning, if that's cool? Stop by and-"

"-Wait," Your tone was fiercer than you meant it to be, Eddie's eyes told you that. "I-I just-" You turned towards the kitchen, heart hammering with a steady thud in your ears.

"I, uh, I made hot toddies." You swallowed your hammering heart. "Why don't you- I mean, if you want one, yo-you could stay for a while. Put the kids to bed, ya know, if you don't have plans or whatever." You muttered, cringing at how juvenile you sounded. You sounded like you were back in high school, stammering the same way you had when Eddie first asked you out.

Eddie's lip curled in a small smile, running a hand over his face. "Sure." He shrugged, shedding off his worn leather jacket. "Thank you."

You shook your head gently, turning towards the kitchen, ears ringing with the dull beating of your heart, barely registering the squeals of laughter from Jude and Lucy in the other room. You ladled the steaming contents into a festive mug nearly robotically, brain numb with the same swirling thoughts that made you feel like you were underwater- washing away in the strong current of your own mind.

Your slippers felt like weights, dragging your body across the hardwood floor towards the living room, passing Eddie the steaming cup. His hand brushed yours, sending your system flooded with electric excitement.

As you settled back into the cushions, your body relaxed- just for a moment. The kids were squealing, babbling and giggling about their afternoon with Papa. Rudolph still playing lowly in the background. Eddie next to you, sipping out of his mug. For a moment, the lights strung on the tree felt brighter, warmer.

For a moment, it felt like home again.

That sickening realization had your stomach lurching, pulling you back into the cruel reality that none of this was permanent. Eddie, the lights, the happiness- it was all temporary. It would be gone tomorrow.

You wished it wouldn't.

Your mind at war with itself, filled with conflict and regret as you tried to mask it, giving fake grins and exaggerated coos that half heartedly passed for truthful.

"They're finally asleep." Eddie's voice had you jumping, the mug slipping through your hands into the sudsy water.

You turned, chin hooking over your shoulder to face him. "You were probably right. All that candy wasn't the best idea." Eddie gave a tight grin, his eyes sparkling dully, just enough to have your heart skipping. "They got even more at Wayne's too."

"I told you," You sighed softly, a playful hum in your tone. Still, it wasn't convincing enough, not for Eddie.

Eddie frowned behind you. "What's goin' on with you?" He didn't miss the way your spine went rigid.

"What?" You voice pitched, high like it was when you were lying- when you were hiding something. That hadn't changed since high school.

"Don't- c'mon." Eddie gave a soft huff, accompanied by an eye roll. "Just tell me what's goin' on."

"Nothing's goin' on-"

"-Don't lie to me." Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "I've known you too long. You think you can lie to me and I won't know? Please."

Your lips tugged in a smile you tried to hide, turning back towards the dishes you were finishing up. Eddie moved beside you, hip leaning on the counter next to you.

"What's on your mind, baby?" His voice was so gentle- you hated that it was exactly what you needed, that he knew it was exactly what you needed.

You swallowed the ever growing lump in your throat, fighting the swell of tears that was already forming.

"Hey, c'mon, sweetheart," Eddie's hand pressed to your cheek, cupping it sweetly, his rings pressed to your skin. "Talk t'me, baby. What's goin' on?"

"Nothing." Your voice was as strained as the words you struggled to get out.

"Baby," Eddie eyed you playfully. "I know we're not together anymore, but I still know you and you can- what's wrong?" He froze, his hold going rigid at the first shake- a tremble of emotion that was a telltale sign you were about to break.

"Did I say something? I was just- hey, don't cry. Don't cry." Eddie cooed, gathering your face in his hands, pulling you towards him.

Your lip trembled, biting back a sob that tore its way through anyways, vision flooding with tears that built on your waterline.

"Is this- Is this about Trina? Because I didn't- Nothing happened, we just went out. Well, I mean, she kissed me, but I didn't- I really didn't-" Eddie's voice rose in panic, rambling, frantic at the watery sob you let out.

"Please, hey, please don't cry? I'm not- fuck, baby, I didn't- I thought it would be ok, be-because you'd been on a few dates, and I thought it would be a good thing."

"It is." You blubbered, sniffling wetly, wiping your eyes with the back of your rolled pajama tops.

"Then why are you crying?" Eddie frowned lightly, pads of his thumbs wiping over the apples of your wet cheeks catching your tears.

"I just..." Your eyes pinched shut, jaw clenching to keep in another sob. How could you tell him? You couldn't. You knew you couldn't, even though you wanted to so badly.

"Just what?" Eddie's voice dropped. "Tell me."

He could feel your trembling breath, his own heart squeezing with constricting fear before you spoke.

"I just... I miss this." Your voice cracked, eyes squeezing shut. You couldn't look at him, couldn't bring yourself to see his reaction.

"I-I didn't know how much I would miss just... just us all being together, and I really fuckin' miss it, and I think," Your breath hitched, heart stilling entirely with hesitant fear.

Eddie held his own breath, eyes wide, looking at you with a wild gaze like he knew what you were going to say.

"I think," You swallowed around your words, strangled in your throat. "I... I made a mistake."

Eddie's heart leapt so fiercely he thought it tore through his rib cage. His body eerily still, unable to move.

"I didn't know you going out with someone else w-would make me feel... this bad, and," Your eyes shone, the strung lights in the kitchen catching in your tears. "And I've really missed you."

"I've missed you too." Eddie's lungs constricted with those words, feeling breathless and light headed.

"I don't like spending the holidays without you." Your voice squeaked, teary and upset, face crumbling with the admission you'd been holding in for too long. "I don't- I don't like being without you, an-and I think I made a really bad mistake and I-I'm sorry, Eddie, I'm so-o sorry-"

Your teary face pressed to the soft material of his t-shirt, your cry muffled into his chest. Eddie held you close to him, as tight as he could, his own head spinning now.

He'd dreamt of this, longed for this moment since you'd fist served him the papers. The day had finally come, one he thought he'd only see in his head- you coming back to him, taking it back, taking him back.

Only it didn't feel as triumphant as it did in his head.

Not with you sobbing into his arms. Not with his head spinning so fiercely he thought he might still be dreaming.

"It's alright," Eddie soothed nearly robotically, staring ahead out the window towards the darkened street as he soothed your sobbing apologies. "We'll- We'll figure it out, baby. We'll be alright."

Every time you both felt like you found your footing, finally on stable ground, you were back here- falling with horror back into uncertainty.

Even as Eddie held you in the kitchen, or later when he slipped into bed with you, both of you whispering and sniffly under the sheets, it wasn't new but it wasn't the same as it was before.

You weren't sure if it would ever be the same as it was before, if you'd ever have what you had before. Even if you replicated the same traditions, hung the tinsel in the same place, retraced your footsteps exactly as you did the year before; it would never hold the same feeling as it once did.

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rafesfavbimbo · 3 months ago

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Perfect Where Her Rival Fails.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Dark!Reader, Rafe Cameron x Sofia’s Bestfriend!Reader

Summary: Rafe thought Sofia would be the one to fix him.. that was until he met her best friend and became so much worse

A/n: Rafe and reader are NOT GOOD PEOPLE! But it was so hot to write. I find Sofia’s “I can fix him” vibe kinda lame. This is kinda long too ngl.. Descriptions of Sofia and Reader are for plot purpose only and to build differences

TW: CHEATING!!! Not on reader, Rafe cheats with reader. SMUT!!! Descriptions of immoral thinking

Rafe should feel ashamed. He should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good.

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. “Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. from the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned.

Sofia was nice. Sweet actually. She was all soft smiles and modest clothes. Sparkling eyes hiding behind wispy bangs. Voice of reason, the angel on his right shoulder. Mousy beauty, enticing in a plain jane way that is nice to admire and look at. She doesn’t stand out but she had caught his eye and he liked it. Different from snooty Kook girls and prettier than typical Pogue girls. She kept him calm, and pushed him to be better. She could change him; that was until he met her though.

Sofia’s best friend was everything she wasn’t. She was sweet as well, don’t get him wrong. But she had a fire in her eyes, a darkness waiting to be unleashed that he couldn’t help but feel would match perfectly with his. The devil on his left shoulder. She was stunning, the kind of stunning that turns heads and captivates. She was all flirty smiles and batting wispy lashes. Skimpy clothes, excessive jewelry and high heels always accessorizing her perfectly. Makeup always accentuating her enticing features.

Rafe still remembers when they met. He’d thrown a grand party, Kooks on every inch of his property buzzed and high. Some crossed and stumbling. An environment of chaos, fun chaos. He was sitting in his ‘VIP’ section with Barry. Doing lines and rolling a fat blunt to be passed between the two. Waiting for Sofia to arrive, remembering his earlier phone call with her. ‘Can I bring my best friend, she just moved in with me and it’ll be her first time on the island.’ To which Rafe replied mumbled a ‘sure, whatever.” The more the merrier right?

Oh and the more the merrier indeed. Because when Rafe laid his eyes on her for the first time he felt like he was starting the beginning of the rest of his life. Like a missing puzzle piece fit in perfectly that he didn’t even know was missing.

“Y/n this is Rafe,” smiles Sofia, putting a name to the beauty standing before him, “Rafe, this is y/n, my best friend,” boasted Sofia with a bashful smile and proud eyes. A manicured hand reaches out to him, “it’s so nice to meet you. Sofia’s always talking about you.” Pretty lips spread, exposing pearly whites and when he looks into her eyes he can see the same lust swirling around them that is most definitely sitting in his. Rafe extends his hand, immediately engulfing hers as their eyes lock and his lips spread in a small side smile with a “likewise.” Holding onto the moment till a soft voice breaks the tension, “y/n do you want anything to drink?”

They both dropped each other’s hands quickly. The tension building between them snuffing out as they turn to Sofia as she looks at them with an unassuming smile. “Oh…yes! sure! What is there?” replies y/n, turning her attention to her best friend and giving Rafe the opportunity to slyly run his gaze down her figure. Taking in the skimpy clothing accentuating it perfectly and pretty pedicured feet in heels. A stark difference to the dress Sofia was wearing that landed right above her knees, the V on the chest only exposing her collar bones. Feet sat in white sneakers. “I’m not sure…Rafe?” Sofia broke his trance, turning to him as he immediately locked eyes with hers. ��What happened?” he replies, having not paid attention to anything they were taking about. Way too entranced by the beauty on display in front of him.

“Y/n asked what do you have to drink” said Sofia with a small smile. And it almost made him feel guilty at having checked out his girlfriend’s best friend right in front of her. Almost. “Uh yeah.. anything really. I’m sure I have it, what’s your poison?” he spoke to y/n, giving her a warm smile as he prepared to make a mental note of what she likes. “Vodka.” she replies back, returning his warm smile with one of her own. Rafe goes to reply when a familiar accent chimes in.

“How about I show you where it’s at doll? Give these two lovebirds a chance to be alone.” drawls Barry. Rafe snaps his head toward him, eyes darkening and lips pursing in an unamused scowl. The drug dealer making eye contact with the beauty in front of them, small smirk on his lips as lust swirls around his eyes. Rafe couldn’t blame him but he sure as hell wanted to pop him right in the face. “M’Barry,” he reaches his hand out to her, Rafe’s eyes following her pretty hand slide into Barry’s calloused grip. “I’m a business associate of Rafe’s” he says slyly, “guess you could say we’re friends too.” He finished with a smile, gold tooth glistening.

“Nice to meet you,” y/n replies offering him a small smile. “Um, yeah sure. That sounds good.” she replied to Barry’s earlier question. Shyly glancing once at Rafe, then at Sofia. Barry getting up and taking the hand in his to guide her along with him. Turning his head back to Rafe with a knowing smirk as Sofia takes her position next to Rafe, nuzzling into his side with a pleased smile. It would normally be welcomed by him, thick arm wrapped around her shoulder. But now he does it reluctantly, tips of his ears burning with heat and chest tightening. Jealousy swirling in his stomach, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes burn holes into the pair walking away. Watching as y/n follows Barry’s lead, head turning back to look over at the couple. Her eyes landing on Sofia who’s nuzzling his cheek and kissing it with soft pecks. He can see them darken as she moves her eyes to his and catches them already on hers. The pair staring into each other before she turns around and lets Barry lead her away. Rafe’s gaze can’t help but fall to her cute butt popping out enticingly from the mini skirt she was wearing. The clack of her heels furthering with each step.

“I think Barry likes her,” giggles Sofia. The statement making his body burn and the hand not wrapped around her shoulder clench. A small hum coming from his mouth and all he’s thinking is that he’ll be damned if he lets Barry sweep away something he’s already planning on making his.

After that eventful night. Rafe makes it a point to be around y/n as much as possible. Whether from suggesting he and Sofia ‘stay in’ at her small place with a ‘let’s invite y/n to watch a movie’ or ‘don’t feel like being around Figure 8, mind if I hang here?’ Each and every time, making up one excuse after the other to reside in the habitat where his prey lies in. Waiting for the right moment to pounce and claim his catch.

If he thought style-wise they were different. It’s only confirmed by the undeniable difference in their shared home. Elements placed by both of them in the space contrasting starkly. Sofia’s bedroom was nice. Clean and always well kept. Neutral, earthy tones and the definition of minimalistic. Clothes organized neatly and folded perfectly in her dresser, and hung up in her small closet. A few pairs of shoes lined up neatly under the hanging clothes. Her room smelled like clean laundry and the ocean breeze. Her bed with a basic black duvet and primped white, cotton sheets always fresh. Smelling of her whenever they’re rolling around, tangled together.

Whereas, y/n’s space was the epitome of girly-girl. Clean but an organized clutter of cute trinkets and decorations. Clothes and lingerie on a rack next to her vanity because the small closet couldn’t fit all her clothes. Heels lined up against the wall, white and black leopard print bedding with satin pink sheets, full of fluffy pillows. Her vanity is orgqnized but full of makeup, and products that she rummages through on her day to day. Jewelry sprawled all over her night stand. All things maximalism. Which he was only able to see after sneaking out of Sofia’s bedroom one night while she slept soundly and stalking over to the other beauty’s bedroom to satiate his need to know more about her. Pressing the door open lightly and watching as she sleeps with pouted lips in her array of pillows and satin sheets. The sweet aroma of Vanilla filling his senses. And lulling him to sleep after he gets back into bed with Sofia, dreaming of the girl down the hall.

Even in their shared bathroom, the pink loofah and sparkly decorations contrasting to Sofia’s white loofah and minimal decorating. And sometimes when Rafe is desperate he pops open her expensive Vanilla-scented shampoo and inhales deeply to consume just a piece of her, so different from the fresh-soap smell of Sofia’s. God and don’t get him started on the loungewear.

Sofia preferred comfort and modesty. She had a cute body that hid under baggy sweats, yoga pants, gym shorts and oversized sweaters or shirts. Maybe even some of his shirts here and there. Rafe liked it don’t get him wrong, it’s cute and she feels comfortable. But when he saw y/n’s loungewear, he didn’t know how he could ever accept anything less. Micro sleep shorts in an array of different pinks, black, grey, whites. Low-rise and always risen up, stuck inbetween her cute butt, giving him a good view of those pretty legs and that gorgeous tummy. Tiny tank tops, shirts that exposed her pretty midriff and so tight on the chest he could always see her nipples poking through. Fluffy pink slippers or cute leg-warmers and fluffy socks on her feet. Thought he prefers when she’s barefoot because then he can see her pretty pedicured toes that he imagines pressing kisses onto.

Rafe wasn’t delusional. Well, he was. But not about this, no way. When he’d first started infiltrating their space, making himself a consistent figure he’d made sure he was extra observant and helpful. In guise of being a good boyfriend to Sofia ‘it’s so sweet that you’re being so nice to her, I know she really appreciates it. The move was hard.’ To which Rafe replied with ‘do it all for you baby.’ A bold-faced lie. He does it because he wants to, he wants to know everything about her. Take care of her. He knows that her and Sofia aren’t rolling in dough the way he is. Especially with her struggling to get a job after he made sure to put in a word not to hire her at the country club with Sofia. Coming up with some excuse that she’s got no work ethic; in reality it’s just him not wanting her to work around other men. Or work in general, she’s far too precious for that. He knows she’s a girl who deserves nice things and gestures. A girl he wants to provide for. And he also knows that the more he provides, he can basically Pavlov her. Make her depend on him and keep a smile on that pretty face he wants to press kisses all over.

So it started with simple things. Foods and snacks she likes; asking Sofia what she prefers to nosh on. To which she happily replied giving him a good list, and he made sure to get Sofia something too. Not to raise suspicion. It made his chest warm when they’d have a movie night, another insistent ‘let’s invite y/n.’ Paying more attention to how she happily snacked on the food he provided, giving him thanks and a shy hug. Offering him some every few minutes while he replied with soft, “m’okay, enjoy it. It’s all for you.” Neither her and Sofia realizing how deep that sentiment actually was.

But then it began escalating… they started hanging out more. Sofia giving Rafe a spare key to let himself into their home since he was there so often, and he took full advantage. Letting himself in when he knew Sofia wasn’t there; insisting on inserting himself into y/n’s life and heart. They spent so much time together; getting to know each other. Rafe becoming a consistent figure in her life; making himself her whole world. Slowly but surely infiltrating and separating her away from Sofia as he reeled her closer to him. Even going as far to find solace in her company when he and Sofia fought; not letting her know he began each and every one to slowly but surely push her away. Making sure Sofia was never there as he forced himself into her best friend’s life.

Sofia had picked up more shifts at the Country Club; making her presence more sparse as she noticed distance from her best friend and her boyfriend. Losing herself in work to not think about the dread building in her chest and the suspicions building in her mind. As for Rafe, it was another normal day of pushing himself into y/n’s life and going to her shared home with Sofia. Which has been almost every day of the week when he wasn’t busy doing business with Barry or making time for Sofia as to not raise suspicion. And today he brought breakfast, setting it out on their small kitchen island. One thing on his mind that today was the day. He was in the middle of setting up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen from the small hallway.

“Rafe?” questioned a meek voice; gritty with sleep and sounding oh-so precious. He immediately turns around with a warm smile, running his eyes over her scantily clad figure and down to her pretty toes on display. “Good morning,” he said in a slow drawl, taking in the way her thighs clenched together subtly at that. His warm smile slipping into that familiar smirk. “I brought breakfast, thought we could spend some time together and go to the mainland today to show you around.” He continued, keeping his eyes on her as her gaze moved to the food set out on the island. Shuffling over and rubbing the sleep out of her pretty eyes.

“You got all this .. for me?” she spoke softly, gazing up at his towering figure with soft doe-eyes. Lips frowning in a slight pout that he wanted to kiss away. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He raised a strong hand to grip her chin and run the tip of his thumb slightly over the bottom of her lower lip. Moving his gaze from her eyes to her lips, back to her eyes, “just for you,” he whispered lowly. Watching as she kept staring into his eyes and leaning her body into him slowly. He very much liked that, giving her chin a quick pinch before he pulled away. Turning to grab a glass of orange juice and setting it down in front of the plate he set out for her. Watching as she moved to sit in front of it; eyes dashing between the arranged food. “Eat whatever you want, need that tummy full for today.” He spread his hands on the island, holding his body up as he leaned over and watched as she began adding pieces of her desired choice of food all over the plate. A satisfied hum coming from her as her eyes closed at the taste.

“What do you mean we’re going to the mainland? Why? Without Sofia too?” she questioned after she finished chewing; taking a sip of the orange juice he set out for her while keeping eye contact. “Thought I could show you around, I had nothing to do today and thought it would be nice to take you out so you’re not cooped up in here all day while Sofia’s working.” He said with his usual charm; popping a grape into his mouth and biting into it with a harsh crunch. Watching as she nodded her head in understanding. “After you eat, go get ready and put on something pretty. It’ll be hot today so be sure to dress for it. But make sure it’s something nice, taking you out for a nice lunch.” He continued. Praying she put on one of those cute, short sundresses or mini skirts she’s so known for wearing. He continued to munch on small pieces of fruit while she finished her breakfast. Taking her plate when she finished and giving her a dismissive wave; signaling to her to begin getting ready.

He watched as she happily skipped away, his eyes lowering to her cute butt as if jiggled with her movements. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it; too caught up in his dirty thoughts when he heard a, “can I wear heels?” He immediately popped his eyes back to her face, which is turned around to look at him. Back still facing him. “If they’re comfortable enough, absolutely.” He smiled, watching as she nodded with a smile and continued back to her room as Rafe finished cleaning up and sat onto the small couch. Head leaning back onto it and staring onto the ceiling with a devious grin of all the things he planned to do today. Dozing off slightly as he waited for her to get ready.

“Rafe,” a slight nudge to his shoulder. “Raaaaafe,” drawled out the prettiest voice; a soft hand coming to cup his cheek lightly and caress it as that sweet voice whispered another soft “wake up Rafe, m’ready to go.” She said delicately with excitement in her voice. Rafe’s eyes opening up from dreamland to look at the absolute goddess in front of him. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she stepped back in front of him. When his vision came back into focus he couldn’t help but run his gaze over her figure. His heart beating in his chest and his pants feeling tighter by the second as her took in the little number on her gorgeous body. Down to the heels on her feet showing off those pretty toes. Her hair done up a a messy up-do with wisp framing her face perfectly. Makeup dewy and fresh, making her look so ethereal and pretty lips slathered in a gloss he wants to kiss away. Silver hoops sitting in her pretty ears.

“You like it?” she asked, giving him twirl. The expanse of her pretty back showing. The sheen material giving him a view of the pink thong nestled inbetween the cute butt he’s been dreaming of marking with his teeth. Watching as her front view came into view, his eyes immediately drawn to the low V and the way her pretty tits looked so erotic hidden between a thin layer of sheen material. Her nipples poking through and her cleavage sitting so nicely.

He let out a low, soft whistle; his gaze which was leaving no inch of her body undiscovered looks back up to her beautiful face. Her eyes already on him through wispy lashes that made them looks so flirty and alluring. An amused smile on her face as he stated, “you look like you should be on the cover of a magazine. Beautiful. You look beautiful. You are so beautiful.” With full sincerity, his eyes holding onto hers to convey all the emotions and want he’s been holding back. He rose up slightly, hand holding out for hers as she placed hers into his. His large grip immediately engulfing her pretty hand as he began dragging her to the front door. “We’re gonna have a ball, believe that.” He looked back at her with a smirk; her head tilting back to meet his gaze and a small giggle falling from her lips as she let him lead her away.

Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone so badly in his life, not even Sofia. After they left the girls’ small house, taking his truck to which he boldly put his hand on her thigh while she sat in his passenger seat; feeling it tense. Testing the waters and feeling satisfied as she relaxed into his touch; thighs slightly spreading to which he gave a small squeeze in approval. His hand caressing her smooth skin the whole way to there. He his head to the side to look at her through his peripheral vision to see her looking out the window, biting those pretty lips and closing her eyes when he would dare to raise his hand a bit higher. Bringing it back to its original spot in a way to tease her every-time, having expected her to push him away. Tell him he’s crossing a boundary, but she never did. Not even when her helped her off the truck, his hand pulling her into his side with it running down her smooth back to sit right above her butt. Not even when he stood behind her on the ferry; his body pressed into hers and arms spread out onto the railing to cage her in as she watched the water with a lip bite and excitement in her eyes. Leaning her head back a bit to expose her neck to him, his immediate response to ghost his lips up her neck and take in her Vanilla scent that’s been driving him crazy. Wanting to lick her smooth skin but refraining, just hovering his face over where he wants to mark her up.

They spent the whole day wrapped up in each other. Rafe had planned on taking her shopping, wanting to spoil her then quickly realizing he didn’t have his truck to hold the influx of items he’s sure she would love to have. Settling for taking her to a jewelry shop, buying her an 18k white gold-diamond necklace that had her eyes widening and a smile spreading on her pretty face. Words of “no Rafe I couldn’t it’s too much,” to, “what about Sofia, wouldn’t you want to get this for her?” Which he quickly shut down with a firm, “Sofia isn’t the kind of girl you buy such pretty, expensive things for, beautiful. You know this isn’t her thing.” His words having two meanings. Watching as she bit her lip in consideration at them, knowing how non-flashy her best friend was and how intimate this gesture was. Ultimately accepting the expensive gift he paid a pretty penny for and letting him clip it onto her neck with a “only girls like you deserve such nice things.” Admiring how it glistened beautifully against her flawless skin-tone. Hoping by tonight that it’s all she’s got on besides the heels on her pretty feet.

After that he took her to his promised lunch, watching as she admired herself in any reflection they walked past to see the diamonds glistening against her. Giddy with happiness and wondering how she could re-pay his kindness. Envy building in her stomach that someone as non-materialistic and plain as her best friend ended up with such a pretty boyfriend whose pockets were loaded. They both sat and chatted over expensive lobster and glasses of Dom Périgon; him feeding her pieces of her food and watching as her lips wrapped around the fork. Praying that he would get to feel them wrapped around his solid cock. His restraint for her slowly dwindling the more they got drunk off champagne.

And fuck -was he glad he splurged on good drinking. Watching as she became more loose, more touchy. Pretty eyes hazing over from the bubbly running through her. Those wispy lashes batting at him as she bit her lip; eyeing him with pure lust. It’s when he felt her right foot begin to slide up the inner-side of his right leg did he know; he had her. Leaning back in his chair slightly and widening his legs to give her more access. The two staring into each other eye’s, lust and intense want swirling around as she slid her foot higher. Eventually reaching his thigh and then the prominent bulge in his dark grey slacks. Rafe clenching his fist and huffing from his nostrils when she begin pressing her toes into it sensually. Massaging him with them as she bit her lip seductively and kept eye contact. Rafe let her tease him till he couldn’t handle it anymore. Getting up from his chair abruptly and tossing down a few hundred dollar bills onto the table before grabbing her by her upper arm. Giving her a chance to put her heel back onto her foot before dragging her out of the restaurant and pinning her against the wall of the alley right next to it. Breathing deeply and watching as she stared into his eyes with that doe-eyed expression that makes him want to ruin her. Pressing his body against hers, his hands spread out on both sides of her head and pushing his face till they were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingling as their breathing became harsher, the restraint between both of them breaking as their need for each other began to win.

“You’ve been driving me crazy. From the moment I saw you; I knew I needed you.” Rafe said lowly, his voice thick with desire as he broke the silence. Watching as she pondered his words, then continuing, “I’m gonna take you home, back to Tannyhill.” He whispered lowly, pushing his head closer to her and brushing his lips against hers as he spoke of everything he planned to do. “M’gonna slip this sexy little dress off and leave you in nothing but those sexy heels and that necklace I bought you.” He drawled, feeling her press closer into him. Her hands that were pressed by her side now sliding up his lower back and up to his shoulders as she held onto him; listening to his every word. “Then m’gonna take what I’ve been waiting too all damn day. Ever since I met you actually. I’m marking my claim on you tonight, and you’re gonna let me because I know you want me as bad as I want you. Know you need me baby, because I need you too.” With that he pressed his lips onto hers. The pair making out harshly with moans and whines falling from her pretty lips into his mouth; harsh groans and breathes falling from his into hers. Their teeth clacking and tongues fighting for dominance as they consumed each other. Any thought of how this might hurt Sofia quickly slipping from their minds. It felt right, right in a way that he didn’t feel with Sofia. Right in a way that she knew any friendship with Sofia wasn’t worth the feelings he gave her.

The pair made out harshly, hands running all over each other as they took each other in. Weeks of tension build up, exploding passionately between them. The sun casting an orange haze over the environment as it slowly went down. Her makeup now ruined and pouty lips swollen. Rafe’s right hand snaking into her pretty up-do and gripping her hair, tugging harshly to expose her neck. Pressing kisses and marking her as she spoke a soft inquiring, “What about Sofia?” Making Rafe’s incessant kissing come to a halt, his head lifting away from her neck as he moved his left hand to cup her cheek; not bothering to remove the hand tangled in her messed up hair. His eyes caught her own, watching as guilt built up in them. Ready to reassure and squash away those feelings because no way was he gonna let Sofia get in between them now. Not anymore than she already has.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said slowly. Watching as she opened her lips to retaliate and immediately shushing her. “Hey -no. Listen..” he continued, rubbing his thumb soothingly on her cheek. “What she means to me is nothing compared to the feelings I’ve developed for you. I need you y/n; it’s driving me insane. I know deep inside me that this feeling I have for you isn’t anything simple.” He spoke seriously, spilling his thoughts to her. Her eyes tearing with emotion as he continued, “and I won’t try to figure it out or stop it. Some things are meant to happen; we’re one of those things. You and me. What we can have together is way too good to give it up for a girl I know I don’t want a future with, but you? We can build a life together. I want to build a life with you. You deserve to be taken care of, provided for. Treated and loved like the goddamn goddess you are. And I wanna give all of that to you baby, wanna give you everything. All of me; I wanna be yours. It’s been weeks of holding myself back to finally make this moment happen and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it. Especially not her.” he spoke. Soft tears running down her smooth cheeks that he kissed away; cradling her to him. “It’s me and you baby; no one else. Not even Sofia.” He finished, watching the hesitation and guilt wash away in her eyes as she submitted herself to him. Removing her arms from being wrapped up his back to wrap them around his neck. Pushing her lips onto his and kissing him passionately as Rafe immediately welcomed it. Wrapping his arms around her and pressing her body tightly against his.

“Take me home Rafe,” she whispered when she pulled back. “Take me home and make me yours, wanna be all yours too.” She said against his lips, causing him to groan deeply and recapture her lips with his passionately before pulling her away. Scooping her in his arms and dragging her to the ferry bridal style as she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement. The two knowing this was the beginning of a passionate, twisted love story. Sofia be damned.

When they made it back to Tannyhill, it’s like a veil lifted over them. Encasing them in their own little world of passion and burning desire. Giggling into each other’s mouths as her heels clacked against the floors of Tannyhill, Rafe consuming her. He took the sheen material sitting over her left shoulder and slipped it off; watching as it fell off her shoulder erotically. The smooth skin of her shoulder, arm and now her left breast being exposed to his eyes without a layer in between. He immediately swiped the right sleeve, the flowy material sliding off with ease. The entire dress dropping as she was left standing in her matching pink thong that came with the dress. Plump tits and gorgeous body on full display for his eyes only. The faux-diamonds on her heels glistening and the real diamonds on her neck shining even brighter. Her flawless skin-tone glowing from the lotion she slathered all over it while getting ready and sparkling from the body glitter she applied to add to her appeal.

Rafe’s gaze ran over the entirety of her body. His eyes full of burning want and need for her. Wanting to ravage and defile her; looking at her with the same hunger a predator looks at its prey. He was gonna make sure she never wanted anyone other than him. He was gonna make sure she belonged to him in her entirety from body to heart and soul. He was gonna make her the queen of his mansion and Kildare. Ruling alongside him in a way Sofia never could. A placeholder and stepping stone for him to find the one he truly wanted. He almost felt bad about Sofia’s role in this situation; feeling like he only met her to be able to meet the love of his life. But his desire for the beauty standing in from of him squashed any feelings that weren’t the ones he had for her.

Rafe immediately grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder as her shocked gasp turned into realizing giggles. Stomping his way upstairs and smacking her butt; turning his head to bite into it making her squeal as he smirked in satisfaction. Finally reaching his room -their room. Shoving the door open and walking to his bed, tossing her on it roughly as she bounced with delirious girly giggles. Immediately spreading her legs and bringing her pretty manicured hands to massage her beautiful tits. Her eyes full of want and need as she watched him hastily pull his clothing off his body. His belt buckle hitting the floor with a thunk as he pulled every last piece of clothing off.

Once Rafe was fully bare, his hard cock up-right and bobbing with his movements as he moved onto the bed on his knees. Slotting himself between her open legs, his big hands on both sides of her head and pressing his body to hers till they were skin to skin. Her tits pressed tightly to his chest; feeling as she began to whine her hips under him after feeling his hard cock rest itself on her covered pussy. Her hands immediately ran up the huge expanse of his back; feeling his smooth skin under her them as he kissed her roughly. Dominating her mouth immediately, strings of spit exchanging between their messy movements. Rafe beginning to grind his hips to match the rhythm of hers. His cock rubbing on her thong-covered pussy as they made out.

“Needed this so bad. Needed you,” he pressed another fervid kiss to her swollen lips covered in their shared spit. Rafe leaned his weight onto his left hand next to her head, pushing his upper body up as his knees bent to stabilize himself. Her thighs draped over his as he spread them wide with his position. Right hand reaching in between them and moving her soaked through thong to the side. Exposing her perfect cunt to him as he groaned deep in his chest at the sight. “So fucking wet for me huh, princess?” He inquired, clearly already knowing the answer. Rubbing his fingers through the silky folds of perfect pussy. Her legs immediately spreading wider as she whispered, “have been since the moment I met you.” Admitting that she’s needed him just as badly he needed her. Her words sexual but the emotion in her eyes sentimental.

Rafe smiled warmly at her, his eyes portraying the same emotion as he leaned down to get her a quick peck. Using his right hand to bring his leaking tip to her entrance dripping with her arousal. Sliding his tip against her hole before he slid it up to her clit, circling the swollen bud a couple times before guiding his tip back to her entrance. He popped it in, an airy gasp falling from her lips as a deep moan fell from his. He pushed slowly, breaking her cunt in around his thick cock, her legs beginning to tremble. Rafe pushed in till he was he was kissing her cervix, pressing soothing kisses all over her face as she whimpered and whine at the stretch. His big body pinning hers to the bed; chest pressed together while his thighs spread hers open. He brought his right hand back next to her head, beginning to grind slowly to get her use to the feeling of him breaking her open. Ruining her for everyone else but him.

“Mhmmm… s’fucking tight baby fuuuuck,” he emphasized the last word with a drawn out groan. Pushing his head into her neck that was exposed to him as she turned her head to the side to whimper about his deep grinding. Pressing kisses all over it and licking up her neck before sinking his teeth in harshly. Grinning into her skin when she cried out, hips beginning to match the rhythm of his as he stretched her to the brim. Rafe marking her neck with love bites as a declaration of his ownership over her. He brought his lips to her left ear, licking her lobe before giving it a light bite and then whispering, “can’t fucking wait anymore, m’taking what I fucking want, alright?” Beginning to snap his hips into her at a brutalizing pace. Her whimpers quickly turning into loud whines and cries, tears building up her in her pretty eyes and ruining her makeup.

“Yeah…that’s it,” Rafe groaned deeply before continuing, “cry for me baby, get use to the rest of your life. M’gonna fuck this sloppy little hole till my dick is imprinted into you.” He finished, grabbing her arms that were now flailing around to grasp onto something from his harsh pounding. Holding her wrist in his large left hand, using it as leverage to pound into her harder. A wicked smile on his face as he took what he wanted. “Never gonna leave you alone, keeping you next to me for the rest of my damn life. Fuck Sofia, this is the shit I’ve been waiting for right here -ah fuck!” He spoke harshly, voice gritty with desire and affected by his efforts at destroying her for any other man besides him. He meant it when he said he was going to fuck his print into her. “It’s me and you baby, remember that.” He reminded her, “just me n’you.”

They’d been going at it for hours; taking each other apart in the most primal way. Rafe fucked her stupid till she passed out. Her heels long gone and thong ripped as he bent her into every position impossible; stretching her open and abusing her sopping hole with his fingers, tongue and cock. Whispering phrases of “that’s my good little cumslut. Doesn’t even care that she’s fucking over her best friend. As long as she gets daddy’s dick breaking her open, huh?” He spoke menacingly, his thick bicep wrapped around her neck as he pounded into her from behind. Face buried in her hair as she dug her manicured nails into his forearm. Her left arm bent back and held against her lower back with rafe’s left hand. Choked gasp of “yes daddy” and “just for you” falling from her swollen pout. Leaving Rafe satisfied as he replied a hushed “that’s right baby, ain’t gotta worry bout a damn thing aside from taking this dick.” Or “Got the sheets fucking soaked, maybe I should fuck Sofia one last time and press her face into the mattress so she can taste what real top-tier pussy tastes like.” His back against the pillows, her back pressed to his firm chest. Large hands hooked under her thighs and spreading her out while he bucked up with non-stop harsh strokes into her already filled and leaking pussy. Their mixed arousal dripping all over his balls as she had her arms laid next to his head; letting him take whatever he wanted. Crying out “no! mine!” when he dared even teased her with the thought of fucking Sofia again after this. Making Rafe chuckle as he spoke out a “that’s right baby, m’all yours. Just yours.”

After so many hours of fucking her stupid, she passed out immediately after the last round. Rafe holding her shaking body to his, her face pressed into his neck. His right arm under her head as his left caressed her hair; keeping her safe in dreamland while they lay on their sides. Kissing her hair every so often the hour she was passed out. He was about ready to get up and go to the restroom; attempting to slowly remove her right arm wrapped around his waist when he heard her whine. Her eyes blinking open, wispy lashes clumped together from the tears of passion he caused. “Don’t leave me,” she pouted, regaining strength to pull him back into her. The action causing a warm feeling to spread through his body like wildfire. He adored that she wanted him just as bad.

“Gotta clean you up m’love.” He whispered against her lips after pressing a soft kiss to them to soothe her. Watching her look at him with sleepy eyes; lust beginning to swirl in them again. “Nuh-uh,” she replied, pressing her right hand to his chest to press him into the mattress flat on his back. Straddling his body immediately, her hands on both sides of his head as she bent down to give him a kiss. Her leaking pussy settled over his cock, pressing down against it. Rafe immediately relaxing into the mattress and shuffling slightly to get into a more comfortable position in middle of the bed. When they pulled back he brought his right hand to cup her left cheek, running his thumb over it soothingly as they held the silence, staring into each other’s eyes. “What do you want, hm?” He questioned, though he already knew the answer. “If you want something, take it. I know I did.” Smiling as he watched her lift herself up on her knees slightly, hand reaching between them. She gripped his already hard cock in her soft hand, teasing his tip against her clit making them both lightly moan. She didn’t do it for too long, already way too built up after weeks of tension between them. Needing him again even after the hours of sex he put her through already. She brought him to her soaked entrance, popping his tip in as she watched his face. His brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her cute cunt swallow him.

Rafe immediately put his hands on her hips and positions his legs. Ready to immediately begin giving it to her and giving her a couple harsh thrust before her dainty hands smacked onto his chest and pushed him back into the sheets, shaking her head side to side to say no. Rafe’s brows furrowed with confusion his lips opening to say something before she interrupted his questioning with, “wanna take care of you daddy. Wanna be good for you.” Rafe’s body immediately relaxing as a satisfied smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Well alright,” he smacked her left ass cheek with his right hand; then removing both his hands from her hips and laying them crossed behind his head. Ready to let her do all the work. “Get to it princess; daddy’s got a fat load waiting for you.”

Her hips began grinding back and forth, rubbing her overstimulated clit across the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Hands pressed into his chest and whines falling from her lips as she worked herself into it. Rafe biting his lip while darting his eyes between her body grinding against him and to her pretty face contorting in pleasure. When she finally felt ready she removed her hands from his chest; reaching her hands behind her to stabilize herself on his strong thighs. Wet plops of their arousal and skin smacking as she began bouncing herself up and down. Working herself on his dick as she cried out his name; Rafe entranced by the goddess on top of him. He didn’t know where to look, from his dick breaking in her pussy to her beautiful body moving sensually to that gorgeous face with messy makeup and swollen lips. He clenched his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and feelings running through him; head turning to the left as she leaned down to start kissing and sucking marks into him the way he did her. When he opens his hazy eyes just a bit that’s when he sees it …

A picture of him and Sofia on his nightstand. Her face smiling brightly as she looked so happy. Half his face hidden in her hair as he gave a soft smile to the camera. A moment in time at the beginning of their relationship when Rafe felt like he could actually see himself building something long term; feeling that Sofia could fix him. A feeling that was now long gone. Rafe should feel ashamed; he should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good. He turns back to the one he truly wants and doesn’t regret his actions in the slightest. This was his woman.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire. Sex was never this good with Sofia, she wasn’t wild. Wasn’t adventurous, as plain in bed as she was outside. She never made his body burn ablaze or his nerves go haywire. She never consumed his heart, body and soul the way the girl on top of him does. Even with Sofia he felt something incomplete inside him. He didn’t know what he was missing to be found it. Till he found her …

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis again. The overwhelming feeling of his tip hitting her cervix becoming too much. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. He’d hurt Sofia again and again if it meant having this sight in front of him and these feelings running through him all the time.

“Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. From the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned. Sofia would be okay, eventually. But he wouldn’t if couldn’t have his girl, he’d rather crush Sofia’s soul then let anything get inbetween them. Any softness he felt for her fading away quickly at the thought of her becoming an obstacle between them.

“Dadddyyy,” she whined into his mouth when his hips began bucking up. He took over control, his need to reassert dominance overtaking him. He was gonna make sure she would never leave him. She was stuck here with him and he was going to ensure it in anyway possible. Little ‘uh uh uh uh’s’ falling from her as he pounded up into her; his legs tense with stabilizing his movements. His right hand came to the back of her head to keep her lips pressed to his. Hips jackhammering into her as she took everything he gave her. Her arms beginning to flail around again to stabilize herself until he grabbed them in his left hand and pinned them to her back with her wrist in his large hand. He pulled his lips back, a string of spit connecting his to hers as she whined and tried to reconnect them. Rafe shook his head and nudged her nose with his as he spoke against her mouth. “Take it m’love, daddy needs you to take it. Need you to know you’re never gonna leave me. We’re in this together. You n’me.” Watching as her eyes looked into his with full sincerity as she nodded and choked out “you n’me. Don’t wanna leave you daddy. Never.” With that Rafe pressed his hips up on more time, groaning out her name repeatedly. His cock all the way inside her and tip kissing her cervix as ropes of cum dribbled out and filled her up for the what feels like the millionth time that night. His orgasm triggering her own as her legs shook in their straddling position; crying out into his mouth as she squirted around him again.

Rafe fell back into the mattress, her collapsing on top of him as they both were breathing harshly to catch their breathes. Rafe’s right hand came up to rub her back soothingly as she came down from the high he gave her; soft little cries leaving her that turned into almost inaudible whimpers. The two so wrapped in each other and the aftermath of their love-making that they didn’t even hear the harsh steps stomping up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom.

When they’d gone out on their date, Rafe put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and ensured she did too. Not wanting any interruptions for their day together. And ever since then it hasn’t come off, the pair never realizing that Sofia was blowing up their phones with incessant text and calls. Questions of where they were, if they were together. Until she couldn’t handle it anymore and drove straight to Rafe’s in the middle of the night; praying the gut feeling she’s had for weeks wasn’t going to be confirmed tonight. Oh how she wishes she was wrong. She’d known for weeks, a gut feeling stabbing in her for so long. She’d been suspicious when Rafe had become so kind, tender to her best friend. Chalking it up to him wanting to make Sofia happy by being so welcoming and be a good boyfriend. When he started coming over everyday she was a little surprised, he usually called her over to Tannyhill. She knew he wasn’t a fan of the cut. When he began insisting on staying in for dates, always asking for y/n to intrude on them. It bothered her but she didn’t say anything, too worried about Rafe’s softness sizzling out and making her best friend feel bad. She was even hesitant to give him a key but did it anyway because she convinced herself she was being paranoid. ‘He’s finally man’ing up,’ she’d told herself. Only not knowing it wasn’t for her but her best friend.

She knew when Rafe became cold, distant. Starting fights over anything and everything; never wanting to talk it out and just leaving her wallowing in her own sadness. She knew when her best friend started acting the same, cold. Her distance deepening by the day. And when she came home one day to find them laughing together and eyes sparkling at each other, not even noticing she walked in. The two chatting away on the couch. It pushed her to pick up more work, needing to numb the nagging feeling and ignore the suspicions growing in her mind. But she knew, a woman always knows. And she most definitely knew when she walked straight into Rafe’s house. The scrape of pink fabric laying at the bottom of the staircase, one she knew belonged to her best friend. Sofia knew yet she needed to see it, needed to finally know that she wasn’t feeling crazy. But nothing could have prepared her for shattering of her heart as she slammed Rafe’s bedroom door open. Two people she loved so much, wrapped around each other as they pressed soft kisses to each other’s lips. In their own world till she screamed out an “I knew it!” and only then did their veil lift.

Y/n and Rafe turned to look at Sofia standing at the entrance of the bedroom, tears running down her cheeks. Rafe was quick to act, turning his body along with y/n’s to shield her. His back turning to Sofia as y/n fell to the other side; her right leg wrapped around his waist as she looked at her best friend over Rafe’s shoulder. A scowl now etched on his face as he looked back at Sofia through a side eye, “yo! what the fuck is your problem?!” He fumed, as if Sofia was a stranger intruding on their intimate moment. As if she was never his girlfriend, as if she was never anything to him. Sofia’s teary eyes darted between Rafe’s scowling face, to her best friend. Oh her best friend, someone she’d know for so many years. Someone who was practically a sister to her, someone she let into her home and around her boyfriend. She trusted her. “How could you?” she spoke to y/n, the pain in her chest almost debilitating. “How-how could you?! I trusted you! I let you into my home! I let you around my boyfriend and this is how you repay me! BY FUCKING MY BOYFRIEND!” She screamed, overwhelming feelings of anger and despair radiating off of her. “You’re a fucking slut! A whore!,” she stepped forward more into the room ignoring the ‘hey!’ from Rafe as she continued, “I should have known. You always begged for attention, just look at the way you dress. You’re a stupid attention seeking whore!” She raged at her best friend whose eyes full of guilt now turned into equal rage.

Rafe went to open his mouth and defend his woman when y/n spoke up first, “save me the fucking pity party Sofia! You’re just a sad case of another girl getting way to ahead of herself because a cute guy finally gave her attention,” she retaliated. Sitting up now, not caring about her state of undress or the cum leaking down her thighs as she pushed herself up to her knees on the bed. Finger pointing at Sofia as Rafe’s eyes darted between the two girls. “You’ve always made me feel bad! Like i’m someone who needs to be fixed and is full of faults. Always telling me where I went wrong or what I’m not doing good enough. You act so high and fucking mighty all the time like you aren’t trying to compensate for your own inadequacies!” She yelled, rage flowing through her and continuing when Sofia went to open her mouth, “I’m sick of the patronization hidden behind care. I’m sick of you making me feel bad for who I am,” y/n stepped over Rafe’s legs to stand on the floor and face her ex-best friend. Stalking toward her, “you’re always trying to fix people to make up for your lack of personality. Like everyone is in the wrong for being themselves just bc you’re too pathetic to know who you are. I’m done letting you do it to me. And I won’t let you do it to him,” she screamed pointing at Rafe who was on his back and holding himself up on his forearms as he watched the two ex-friends at each other’s throat. Turned on and feeling satisfied that the kitty claws he’s been working so hard to expose are finally out. A sick smirk on his face as he stared at Sofia. “For months, you complained about him to me before I came here. How he was ‘unhinged’ and how you could help him. Make him better. And it wasn’t until I met him that I realized how wrong you were! Maybe he’s not perfect, maybe he’s rough and mean and fucked up! But that’s what makes him, him! And i love it! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I need to put on an act, like I need to be perfect. He loves me for who I am not what he feels he can make into and I feel the same about him. So maybe we’re fucked up! But at least we’re not a miserable cunt who’s hellbent on fixing people because she can’t fix herself.” Finished y/n, her arms crossed against her bare tits as she stared Sofia down whose tears were running down her cheeks, face red with emotion and chest heaving. To add to insult Rafe let out a low whistle at y/n’s words and a small chuckle with an “ouch.” Watching as Sofia’s eyes left her staring contest with her best friend to him, not making any effort to move from her spot.

“You can leave Sofia, we don’t want you here. Ever.” taunted y/n, turning on her heels to walk back to bed and climbing in it while Rafe shuffled over to the other-side. Right arm widening to encase her with it as his left forearm held him up. Immediately wrapping his arm around y/n as she got near, the two smashing their lips together with a passionate kiss to add salt to the wound. Not letting up until they heard footsteps stomping out of the room and down the hallway. Rafe pulling back with that sick smirk on his face as he yelled out for Sofia to hear “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Both of them turned to the doorway and listening as they heard her sobs deepening and steps become quicker. The glass door slamming shut and letting them know she’d left.

They turned to face each other with wicked smiles as they smashed their lips together, Rafe using the arm wrapped around her to push her body onto the mattress and press himself flush to her. “That was so fucking sexy, you mean it? You love me? Flaws and all?” he smiled into her lips, chest feeling warm with love as she giggled and nodded. Kissing him again before saying, “as long as you love mine.” Eyes staring into his for confirmation that he quickly gave her, “baby Imma love all of you for as long as you let me. I don’t want some faux-perfect bitch, I want my girl who’s freak matches mine.” Capturing her lips again and ready to go for another round. Grinding against her till she pulled back with worry in her eyes, “wait! what about my stuff she’s gonna wreck it!” y/n whined and kicked her leg into the mattress.

“Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll replace it all and more.” He chucked and went to recapture her lips when she pushed against chest that slipped inbetween them, crying out a, “but Rafey some of that stuff is vintage! Irreplaceable!” Whining and pouting her lips as Rafe rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed both her hands in his large one, pinning them to the bed as he dominated her once more.

“Shuddup and let me love you. Such a brat. You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”

A/N: Damn I almost feel bad for Sofia ngl. The way i described Sofia was just for plot purposes! I just feel like Rafe needs a bougie baddie idk! and I really think Sofia is boring!

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utahimeow · 1 year ago

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just gojo fingering you while you finger yourself :3

cw — squirting

“touch yourself for me, baby. wanna watch you make yourself feel good.”

when it comes to you, satoru may be a greedy man, but he’s also voyeuristic. he loves a show—only when you’re the star of it, of course. there’s nothing he loves more than seeing his pretty girl get herself off, knowing that it’s a sight reserved just for him.

so he kneels between your legs like a starving dog, eyes blazing as he watches your fingers slip between your folds. you’re soaked already, dripping from his soft touches and needy kisses that inevitably spiralled into an unbearably insatiable want within the both of you. satoru licks his lips at the sight of your arousal glistening like temptation. it takes every bone in his body and every fibre of his being to resist indulging in the taste—not yet. he needs to be patient.

he looks up and his gaze locks with yours and a shiver shoots down your spine. he looks at you like he wishes to devour you, licks his lips while drool spills from the sides of his mouth. it drives you crazy, seeing him turn to a rabid animal at just the tempting sight of you.

your fingertips drag over the opening of your cunt, through the slick that seeps out of you like honey. every movement you make is methodical—the glide of your fingertips over your clit feeds the bubbling pleasure in your gut, and the way you throw your head back and nibble at your bottom lip lets satoru know how good you feel. you want to make it indulgent, both for you and for him.

“why don’t you put a finger in for me, pretty?”

his voice is so sweet, it always is when he’s talking to you, yet it’s dripping with such lust that it makes your walls clench. you become cognisant of just how empty you are, and you can’t go another second being so empty, so you slide your middle finger into your hole and a moan springs from your throat.

satoru chuckles at you, airy and half-moaning and just a touch condescending. his pants are tightening over his crotch, and he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, but for the moment he behaves.

the sounds you make are shameless as you drag your single finger in and out of your hole. it’s hardly anything compared to satoru’s fingers—so much thicker and longer than yours. you dip a second finger inside in an attempt to give yourself something more, to replicate your boyfriend’s touch, and it helps, at least a little, to keep the boiling flame deep inside you going.

one of your hands moves to cup your exposed breast, fingers tugging and twisting at your nipple. you whine out satoru’s name, like the devil inviting him to hell, because you sound so sweet and lovely—

satoru is a greedy man. he’s also impatient, and indulgent, and you’re just so irresistible, his sweet little girlfriend, and he just can’t stop himself when he plunges his own two fingers into your needy little cunt that’s already occupied with your own.

“s-satoru!” you gasp at the stretch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head while satoru groans out at the way your warm walls wrap around his digits.

“sorry, angel, couldn’t help myself,” he says, rasping out a laugh. his crystal eyes have turned a dark, ocean blue, and they’re on fire now, swimming with want. “pretty little pussy was beggin’ for my fingers.”

there’s an obscene squelch as he angles his wrist and crooks his fingers until, along with yours, they’re pressed up against your sweet spot, the one that makes you cry out and buck your hips in a desperate search for more.

“go on, baby, keep making yourself feel good. i’ll help you,” he says, fangs bared as he smirks, voice dropping to an octave lower than usual. he knows precisely the effect it has on you, knowing how just his words are more than enough to get you worked up. he doesn’t miss the way you clench around him as he speaks, whining out a pleading little noise for him.

lightheaded, your fingers are weak as they move, though satoru doesn’t hesitate in the way he begins to drag his curled fingers in and out of you—he’s rough, jostling you along the mattress as he works your pussy open, but he’s never been good at controlling himself around you.

“such a spoiled girl, huh? letting me do all the work?” he coos, watching as you slowly fall apart for him. he’s teasing you, when really he loves getting you like this more than anything.

“feels better when you do it,” you whimper, and it’s those words that make his cock stir in his pants, make his tip weep. a reminder of how well he takes care of you, because he loves taking care of you, more than anything. you’re only spoiled because he spoils you, gives you everything you could ever want, makes you feel so good that nothing else matters except for you and for him.

and he’s so good with his fingers—after all, he has to be. not only is it his job but the very essence of his being revolves around using his hands. so of course it’s not long before your walls are clamping down on yours and his fingers, the hot band of pressure inside you threatening to snap.

“satoru, i’m-i’m close,” you manage through the never-ending string of moans that fall from your lips.

“i know, angel, i can feel you,” he says, half-laughing. then, like the cruel man he is, he presses his free hand into your abdomen, and you don’t stand a chance. “come for me.”

the wet sounds of your soaked cunt quickly come to a crescendo from the way he moves his wrist with abandon. as your walls clench, satoru’s fingers intertwine with yours, pressed up into your g-spot together, battering it over and over, and then—

you’re yelping. screaming with bliss. the muscles in your body seize up from the pleasure that takes over them, and a flood of your arousal splashes over satoru’s lap, and you’re sobbing out moans and the syllables of satoru’s name, coming all over your fingers and his. it’s unlike any orgasm you’ve ever felt.

“there you go, that’s it, pretty girl,” he sings, slowing his movements as you fall through your climax, his gaze fixed firmly upon your features as they contort with bliss. his chest always blooms with warmth when you come, fills with some kind of pride because you’re so beautiful and he gets to call you his.

he’s pressing kisses to your shaking thighs as you come back down, sliding his dripping fingers out of your warmth slowly and bringing them to his lips. he finally deserves a taste, he thinks. so he laps up your essence from his own fingers and yours, his eyes fluttering shut, letting out a moan as he indulges, shamelessly—that’s another thing that satoru is. shameless.

“you taste so sweet, baby,” he tells you, already growing hungry for more.

“that was so romantic, satoru,” you quip. “you held my hand inside of me?”

“yeah, well, you know i’m a romantic, baby.”

#gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #꒰ lovers. ꒱ — gojo

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jolalibrary · 5 months ago

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DO YOU WANT ME TO HOLD YOU?

javier peña x f!reader summary: javi offers comfort when you need it the most. warnings: none, just comfort on a bad day.

Just thinking about Javier Peña realising the moment you'd taken a seat at your desk that you’re different today. Something wrong, different. That you’re weighed down, sad.

There’s no snark, for one. No bite. There’s an absence of comments about the fact he’s wearing the fucking-red-devil-shirt. It niggling, bothering him, irking him as he tries to solve if you’re being quiet with him, or everyone.

It’s confirmed an hour later, when you make no snide comment to someone else—one you’d usually quickly jump on—that it’s a wider thing than just him.

He struggles to admit that he misses it, your sarcasm. practically hearing it in his head in the same tone you use when it’s just the two of you—there when he's walking you into his place right to the moment before he’s pinning you to his sheets.

And it takes him a moment, another half an hour before he can pull you into the file room, a hard stare reflecting at him.

This where you bring girls when you want a workday fuck, Peña?

He smirks, leaning against the door—taking it because it’s something. Better than nothing. Jaw slides to the side as he folds his arms, waiting, and waiting. Clearing his throat when he sees your façade falling.

“You needed a minute.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at the idea. Fidgeting, likely feeling exposed—making his pulse quicken, as he hopes he’s not wrong, not overstepped. The air is so tense and silent, it's loud when he scratches at his jawline, when he runs his palm over his face.

“I’m okay.”

And he kicks off from the door. A considerable gap is still there, but the hard expression from earlier is gone, vanished, leaving behind evidence of a bad night's sleep and a head full of voices sketched across your face.

“Do you want me to hold you?”

You pull your head back, just slightly. Staring, before your eyes dart to the side, bottom lip quivering, blinking, likely swallowing back the lump in your throat as he takes in a heavy breath.

“No,” you whisper.

“Do you want me to hold you, hermosa?”

He watches it shift. Watches it arrive. The tremor first as your resolve begins to snap, to crack right down the middle as angry, tear-filled eyes meet him. He suspects there's hard-to-swallow thickness there in your throat as you nod, and he’s quick, arms engulfing, wrapping—clinging to put the parts of you together as you shudder and break.

It’s crushing, heart-wrenching. hand cupping the back of your head to his shoulder, other around your waist—a familiar place, but today’s circumstances are foreign.

Sob, after sob ripping through you, drowning out his own heartbeat. and then you cough, clear your throat.

“Gonna wet your shirt.”

He smiles, soft, light, just in the corners. “Don’t care.”

You hiccup, cling a little tighter, turn your head on him so you can look up, and he can see your swollen eyes.

“People will think you care.”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad…”

“Javi…”

He snorts, airy, gentle. pressing a kiss to your forehead, not loosening his hold on your hip. “Now I know something’s wrong, only call me that when you’re bouncing on my—”

Your hand firmly slapping his chest makes the rest of the words dilute. As he rests his head against yours, not letting go, not until you do.

jo needed comfort today 🫂 written on phone, so sorry for errors my loves.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javi peña #javi peña x reader #javier peña x you #javi peña x you #narcos x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #narcos fanfiction

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yandere-daydreams · 11 months ago

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Title: Idol Worship.

Pairing: Yandere!Devil x Reader (Christianity).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Consensual Sex, Size Difference, Implied (Past) Injury To Reader, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Scarring, and Themes of Religious Trauma.

The path to His throne was paved with salt and brimstone.

Smoldering rock burnt into the soles of your feet like ember, taken fresh from the heart of the fire. Living corpses, their rotting flesh deteriorating further with ever fraught breath, laid motionless on either side of the crumbling archway, their milky eyes watching your every stumbling movement. The air was heavy with smoke and sulfur, but the buzzling of unseen insects, the stench of the decay – that was all kept in your peripheral. It was meant for someone else, someone whose crimes were far more violent and far more damning than your own. Your fate was elsewhere.

The ascent was made no easier by your anticipation, the steps carved from black onyx and made steep enough to warrant your immediate and self-inflicted dehumanization, to force you to your hands and knees in your effort to scramble upward – ever upward, as if you hadn’t yet had enough of the blinding sky. Rough granite tore into the skin of your palms, but the agony was minimal, a shadow something greater that would not numb you to more intentional agony. The heat, too, was distant, rolling over you in tender waves and seeping under your skin to coil around your ribs, to weave in and out of ragged tears in your mutilated veins. Something snapped inside your chest as you finished your climb, fresh blood washing over your aching throat, but any pain you might’ve felt faded away as a great hand descended from the clouds of smog and ash, His calloused fingertips digging into your waist, your stomach as He took you up and placed you, gingerly, on His silk-clad thigh. His touch lingered, a thumb running over your scalp as He spoke. “Oh, my glorious one,” His voice was deep and flat and beautiful. “What have they done to you?”

Anything they could. Everything they could. Your body was still plagued with the phantoms of it, the frigid cold of steel and iron against flesh and bone. You tried to speak, but your voice was gone, muted by means beyond your own. You frowned, more frustrated than you were surprised, but He did not share in your disappointment. “They are sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.” After a beat, He added, “I will not be so forgiving.”

His hand began to pull away, but you scrambled after of it, latching onto His wrist in a futile effort to hold Him that much closer. An airy chuckle fell from Him unmoving muzzle – His golden, slit-pupiled eyes remaining focused on some distant point as He took you into His hold once again, lifting you first to His own height. For the first time, he moved in earnest – tilting his head forward and resting his forehead against yours. “The reason the Son appeared was to destroy the Devil’s work, for the thief comes only to steal and destroy.” His breath was cool against your skin, even as anger seeped into His tone. “And now, instead, you are asked to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.”

It was more of a croak than a proper plea, hoarse and fractured at all the wrong angles. Still, you managed it, your own small hands pressed into the swell of His palm. “Please, my lamb.”

He seemed to catch himself, inhaling sharply as He shook His head. “My apologies, I forget my audience. You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.” You nuzzled closer to Him, and He allowed you a moment of solace before pulling away, straightening Himself to His most dignified stature. “We have been separated for no short time. Tell me, will you not gratify the desires of the flesh?” A note of humor, a forked tongue allowed to skirt gingerly over your neck. “Will you not allow me to show the length of my devotion?”

You didn’t need to answer, it was a given that you would. His delicate tongue ran over the lacerations on your calves, your thighs - smearing dried blood and soothing open wounds. It flicked upward, lapping at the twin scars on either side of your chest, then the bruises painted across your collarbones, around the base of your throat. His hand shifted, wrapping around your waist, His hold firm and steady as He lowered you onto his length. There were other options – as many shapes and variations as a lustful heart could dream of – but His cock was among His most impressive features. The shaft alone matched your arm in length and your midriff in girth, and yet, it pierced you without resistance, filling you to the brim before He was so much as half-sheathed inside of you. Your knees pressed into his lap, your hand grasping for purchase against his broad chest, but you felt no fear, nor was your exertion necessary in the face of His willingness to serve. He let out a raspy breath, allowing His head to lull back as He thrust gently into you from below. “Earthly one, glorious one,” The pet name fell from His lips like milk and butter and honey. “We will lead each other astray. We will be the force by which the greatest love is defined.”

A growl of a moan as your walls clenched around Him, a sharp snap of His hips. “We will be bound together in perfect harmony,” His hand found the underside of your chin, tilting your head back with only the upmost delicacy. “And those who try to separate us will face only the most just of retribution.”

Your eyes met His, that wonderous gold melting into softened mortality. Where there should have been revulsion, there was only warmth, only light. Foolishly, for a moment, you allowed yourself to scorn the shine of the heavens, to loathe all things that were not Him.

You allowed yourself to believe that you would need nothing else, not so long as His gaze fell upon you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere god #yandere demon #yanderecore #yancore

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utterlyotterlyx · 8 months ago

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When I Danced Under The Stars

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Three

Summary - Tamlin's visit leaves your soul in tatters, but there is someone who knows your pain better than anyone.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma, fluff

Part One - When I Kissed the Teacher

Part Two - When I Met The Devil

The fear and despair rippled down the path which led to your front door, the pulsating negative energy causing Rhys to roll his shoulders in discomfort.

He imagined your home looking rather spectacular in the daylight, the pale wood and white railings, the small well-kept garden full of blooming tulips, the natural warmth that no doubt usually emitted from the hearth. It was no wonder that Azriel had forgone his own space to spend time in yours.

Rhys had appeared at the end of the cobbled path, wings nowhere to be seen, with tired, worrisome orbs and a heavy heart. It had taken much convincing from Rhys to convince Azriel that he should be the one to talk to you, that if anyone was going to be able to understand your pain it would be him. It felt like eons since he though of Amarantha and what had transpired Under The Mountain, but as he saw you stood there, frozen in fear and overcome with your past traumas, he felt some of his own return to him.

The High Lord had little reason to think of the traumatic events he too endured not that long ago, he had a mate, and a child, and a loving growing family. Amarantha and everything she did was in the past, they had all moved on, he thought he had too but something still lingered deep within his soul, that fear that the past could one day repeat itself. It was a feeling he was doing his best to hide.

Knocking on the door, Rhys sighed when he heard your sniffles, and he pictured you standing on your tiptoes to peer through the peephole at whoever had come to pull you from your turmoil. Then you opened the door, and Rhys wanted nothing more than to bundle you up in his arms and tell you that it was all going to be alright.

Tears stained your red tinged cheeks, your eyes were puffy and swollen, and you were holding yourself, rubbing your arms with your hands whilst standing half behind the door, "Are you here to tell me to leave?"

Rhys could have cried at your broken strangled voice, it was like Lucien had said, Tamlin had the power to strip the light from you, there was no love in your eyes, just pure unfiltered fear. Rhys tilted his head to the side and shook his head, "I'd like you to walk with me," he stepped into your home, and it looked exactly as he had imagined it.

Childish artworks were strewn across the coffee table of your living area, workbooks were marked and stacked to the left of the said artworks, books upon books were stacked on the floor since your bookcases were bursting full of other titles. It was light and airy but oh so comfortable, he could picture you and Azriel cuddled up on the deep rooted love seat talking incoherently about your shared dreams. A faint scent of coffee clung to the air from the not-yet-emptied filter left in the coffee pot in the kitchen, it mixed with the aroma of the burnt firewood from the evening before.

Rhys took a step forward and plucked your cloak from the railing by the stairs, noting the neatly placed belongings on the table there, lined up in a row so that you wouldn't forget anything during the morning rush before school. You stood unmoving by the door, your eyes flickering furiously as he draped the garment over your shoulders and offered you a hand which you stared at for a moment before sliding your hand into his embrace, shuddering in a mixture of fear and and comfort as he placed your hand on the indent of his elbow.

The Sidra bubbled along the rocks, pebbled stone skitted beneath your shared weight. Neither of you said a word, Rhys was content in just having you near, where he knew you were safe, and you were equally as content looking at the night sky full of stars and wonder. A stark difference to the sky of the Spring Court.

"I'm putting you all in danger," you muttered, eyes still fixated to the dancing starlight weaving in the moons embrace, "You should send me away."

Rhys slowed to a stop and turned to face you, examining your features with a look void of any anger, in a way it was unsettling. You were far closer to Feyre than Rhys, it wasn't like you weren't friends, but you'd never spent a moment alone with him, "I'm not sending you anywhere, y/n," he told you softly, with an understanding speckle of kindness in his eye. Your High Lord lowered himself to your level, placing his hands on your upper arms and stroking the clothed skin there, "I'm here because I want you to know that I understand."

Leading you to a small ledge, Rhys perched beside you on the lip of earth, his legs dangling beside your own as the Sidra swam along down the stream, "I know what it's like to be used against your will. I know what it's like to feel tainted and unworthy of anything good. You feel like you don't belong in a way, that everything you went through was deserved and the Mother must see you as evil," he paused and brushed his arm up against your own, to give you some form of caring contact, a break of sunlight in your clouded mind, "I'm sorry that he did that to you, and I'm sorry that you've been living with it all this time. I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't tell us. I'm sorry, y/n."

Rhys felt the small sobs catch in your throat, you looked up at the sky and blinked hard, furrowing your brow and exhaling softly before looking sideward to him, "Is Feyre angry at me?"

"Cauldron, no," he told you incredulously, shuffling closer to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "If anything she's worried about you, we all are. What you went through is something no one should ever have to deal with, let alone someone as gentle and bright as you."

"You know?" It was a whisper and your chest thundered with the possibility that they all knew what Tamlin had done, that Azriel knew what Tamlin had done. Panic sat in your chest, a birthing monster of gruesome darkness that was threatening to swallow you whole, "How?"

"Lucien," your heart fluttered, Lucien was perhaps the only person who looked out for you then, working directly against Tamlin's orders and desires to set your free, wanting nothing in return but your happiness no matter where you wound up. As if sensing the deep rooted bond between you and him, Rhys spoke, "He's here, he only told us what we needed to know. I hope you don't mind," Rhys' fingers drifted over the tips of your unbound hair.

"No, I don't. It saves me from having to explain it," Lucien was in Velaris. You knew of his bond with Elain, but you never thought you'd ever see him again, you never had the chance to thank him before he threw you onto a horses back and sent you soaring into freedom, "He's really here?"

Rhys hummed in agreement and he felt your chest grow lighter, your shoulders seemed more relaxed and your eyes didn't seem as sad anymore, "I just want you to know that I know what you went through, I went through it too, and if you ever need someone to talk to, someone who understands, then I'm here. I'll always be here."

A small smile graced your lips, "How long did it take you to heal?"

"I'm still working on that. Healing from this kind of trauma isn't instant. I still wake up at night sometimes thinking I'm back under that mountain with her arm draped over me," his eyes glazed over and you knew he was lost in a memory, "Then I realise that I'm next to Feyre, that I'm in Velaris and I have a son. That it was all worth something, it was worth it to be here now with everything I ever dreamed of."

Resting your head on his shoulder felt natural in that moment, like two kindred spirits finding their other half of understanding, "I hope I get to feel like that one day."

Rhys rested his head atop your head and sighed, "You will. I know you will. Velaris is your home and you're safe here, y/n. You're surrounded by people who love you. One day you'll have what I have and look back at this moment and think about how incredibly wise I am."

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at Rhys, groaning softly as he moved to stand before you, hand outstretched and a wide grin on his lips, "Dance with your High Lord under the stars?"

Smiling, you slid your hand into his, "How could I say no to that?"

It was a tender moment, Rhys placed an arm around your back, his palm flat against the centre curve of your spine, and you leaned into him, head on his chest in the most platonic sense possible as he swayed with you, taking a moment to twirl you under his arm and relish in the joyful giggle that spurted from your lips, "Thank you, Rhys."

"There's no need to thank me, y/n. You mean a lot to us, I think Nyx likes you more than me at this point. Like it or not, you're a part of my family. You make Azriel the happiest I've ever seen him, you've been an amazing friend to all of us. The least I can do is make sure you feel supported and understood."

The pair of you continued to sway, "Azriel is happy?"

Rhys chuckled, "I swear I've never seen him smile so bright or blush so deeply than whenever he returns home from being with you," Rhys pulled away from you slightly, still holding your hand in his, "Azriel would wait an eternity in the depths of hell if it meant he would have the chance to hold you in his arms for a singular moment."

The gaze of your High Lord flickered behind you and his eyes softened as he pulled away from you, "Welcome to the family, y/n. We're all bruised and broken in our own way, you'll fit right in."

That familiar warmth swarmed you, cool kisses snaked up your calves, curling around the small cuts inflicted on you from the broken glass that you hadn't had a moment to clean, "Thank you," your words were sincere and full of blinding relief, Rhys simply bowed his head to you and disappeared into the night.

It was like he knew you needed a moment, just a moment to ground yourself and exhale shakily before your turned into his awaiting arms and flung yourself into his embrace.

Azriel wound his fingers around the back of your neck and inhaled your scent, blinking hard and burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck, "I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I'm so sorry, Az."

"Shhh, don't do that," he told you, his lips pressed against the curve of your neck and shoulder, "Don't apologise for what others did to you. Don't ever apologise for what he did."

"I feel so tainted, and dirty," you sniffled, his shadows caressed your cheeks and he secured his arms tightly around your waist, "I don't deserve you. I'm too ruined, Azriel. Now that he knows that I'm here, I'm not safe. We're not safe."

It didn't escape Azriel's notice that you couldn't even say Tamlin's name, it was like if you did say it then you'd perish into ash. Azriel took your face in his hands, his touch so soft and pure compared to the grip Tamlin had on you only hours before, "I will protect you until my dying breath, and even then I will raise from my grave and return to you. Nothing will ever keep me from you. You are my empire, y/n. You are the one I will burn for, you are the one I will douse myself in blood for, you are the one that makes every single bad day worth the chance of one blissful moment. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise, okay?"

"Please don't leave me," your face contorted and tears spilled from those eyes that he could spend the rest of his days gazing into, "You make me feel alive, like there was a reason I survived. It was to find you."

Azriel's heart sang at your words and he could have crumpled to his knees before you if you weren't the one holding him up.

The stars shone overhead, glittering the sky with endless possibility and Azriel couldn't stop himself from closing the gap between you, capturing your lips on his in the most ethereal embrace, so soul shaping that he didn't think such a feeling was possible. Your tears wet his cheeks and your fingers raked through his hair in desperation, in desperation to feel loved and something other than the heartbreak of your trauma. To feel worthy of something good.

Pulling apart, you were both breathless, and Azriel could see the exhaustion in your eyes. It had been a long day for you, from worrying all day about Nyx and your family, to seeing Tamlin again and feeling the tidal wave slaughter over your soul, to feeling like you had to leave. Azriel pressed his lips to your hairline and held you close, "Let's get you to bed."

You gripped onto him as he went to pull away, "Will you stay? Tonight. Would you?"

"I'd do anything for you," his words pierced your heart, you entwined your fingers in his and allowed him close enough to lift you into his arms, unfurling his wings, "And tomorrow, maybe I can take you to see Lucien? Or we could stay in a read?"

Humming drowsily, you responded, "Lucien, please."

The stars were so close as Azriel soared through the skies of Velaris, cradling you into his chest. You felt nothing but serene slumber pull you into its embrace as the stars sang their sweet lullaby, singing their love to you as your eyes fluttered closed and you became shrouded in their safe, loving arms.

You are safe. You are loved. You are strong. You are worthy.

Authors Note

Ahhhhh!!!! I hope this was worth the wait x

Part 4??

Taglist

@fxckmiup @sh4nn @acourtofbatboydreams @lilah-asteria @iloveboba777 @lisanna2000 @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon

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urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago

Text

Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x Fem!Reader

Laughing at every jokes he make

You find yourself on a romantic stroll with Remy LeBeau, where his playful jokes and charming demeanor lead to a deeper connection. As your laughter draws you closer, you both realize there's more than just flirtation between you, culminating in a tender and passionate moment.

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the streets of New Orleans, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and the lively hum of jazz music in the distance. You found yourself walking alongside Remy LeBeau, your hand barely brushing against his as the two of you meandered through the quiet backstreets. The gentle breeze carried with it the rich smells of the city and a sense of anticipation you could feel in your bones, a feeling heightened whenever you were in his presence.

Remy had insisted on taking you out for a stroll, away from the chaos of your usual lives as X-Men, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. It was impossible to say no to that roguish smile of his, the one that made you feel like you were the only person in the world who could see through his devil-may-care attitude to the heart beneath. Today, though, Remy was especially playful, cracking jokes at every turn.

“Y’know,” he began, his deep Cajun accent weaving through his words like music, “if de X-Men ever decide t’fire me, I got a back-up career as a stand-up comedian.”

You chuckled softly, the sound light and airy, though the joke itself was far from laugh-out-loud funny. “You sure about that? You might want to keep practicing.”

His grin widened, eyes flashing with a spark of mischief. “Practice? Chère, I’m already a master. Ain’t nobody got charm like Remy LeBeau.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, a little louder this time. There was something about the way he said things, like he didn’t care whether they were funny or not—he was confident you’d laugh anyway. And, of course, you did. It wasn’t just the jokes themselves, though. It was the way he carried himself, with a swagger that spoke volumes, and the way he’d glance at you, his red-and-black eyes lingering just a little too long, sending a shiver down your spine.

Remy raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer. “Now you laughin’, but I know y’thinkin’ I got potential.”

“Potential to get booed off the stage, maybe,” you teased, nudging his arm with your shoulder, your eyes crinkling at the corners from how hard you were smiling.

“Ah, chère, you wound me!” Remy dramatically placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt, though his smirk gave him away. “Lucky for me, I got a beautiful girl like you t’keep me company. Long as you laughin’, dat’s all dat matters.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the casual compliment, even though you were used to his flirtations by now. Being called “beautiful” by Remy was like being told the sky was blue—he said it so often, you’d think it would lose its effect. But it never did. It always felt like a small flame igniting inside you every time the word passed his lips.

Your laughter faded into a quiet smile as you glanced up at him, watching the way the evening light softened his sharp features. Remy had a way of making everything feel light, like the weight of the world could fall away when you were with him. He was always making jokes, always teasing, and you always laughed, even when they weren’t all that funny. It wasn’t that his jokes were bad—they just didn’t always hit the mark. But the way he looked at you when he delivered them, with that lazy, confident grin, you couldn’t help but laugh. Because he was trying, and because, for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, his laughter became contagious, drawing your own out of you like a melody that was meant to be sung.

As the two of you continued walking, you noticed Remy glance at you out of the corner of his eye, the smile on his lips softening. There was something different in his expression now, something quieter and more thoughtful. He stopped suddenly, taking your hand in his without a word, guiding you toward a small, secluded park nestled between two rows of charming old houses.

“C’mere,” he said softly, pulling you toward a bench shaded by a large oak tree. The branches above rustled gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the ground beneath your feet. Remy sat down, his hand still holding yours, and patted the spot next to him.

You sat, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, your hand still tingling from his touch. The playful banter had died down now, replaced by a silence that felt… deeper, more intimate.

“Y’know,” Remy began after a moment, his voice quieter than before, “I been thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t often that Remy got serious, and when he did, you knew it was important. “What’s on your mind?”

He looked at you, his red-on-black eyes meeting yours in a way that made your breath catch. “I been thinkin’ ‘bout you. ‘Bout us.”

There was a pause, the words hanging in the air between you like the last note of a song waiting to fade. You weren’t sure what to say, so you waited, letting him find the words.

“You always laugh at my jokes,” he said, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even when they ain’t so funny. Why’s dat, chère?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. It seemed so simple, but the way he asked it—like it meant more than just the surface—made your heart stutter in your chest. You glanced away for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, before looking back at him with a smile of your own.

“I guess… I just like hearing you talk,” you said, feeling the truth of it even as you spoke the words. “Doesn’t matter if the joke is funny or not. I like being around you, Remy. You make me feel… lighter. Happier.”

His expression softened at that, his smile turning more genuine, more tender. “Dat so?” he murmured, leaning just a little closer, his voice low and smooth, like the soft rumble of thunder in the distance.

You nodded, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah, it is. I don’t think I could stop laughing around you even if I tried.”

For a moment, Remy said nothing, just watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle. Then, without warning, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin longer than necessary. His touch sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Y’know,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I been doin’ a lot of thinkin’ ‘bout how lucky I am.”

“Lucky?” you echoed, your voice quieter now, the world around you seeming to fade as the space between you and Remy grew smaller.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand still resting lightly against your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Lucky dat someone like you’d wanna spend time wit’ someone like me. Wit’ all my bad jokes an’ all.”

You laughed, the sound soft and breathless, and Remy’s smile widened at the sound. “I think I’m the lucky one,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Remy’s eyes darkened slightly at that, and you could feel the air between you shift, becoming charged with something unspoken. For a long moment, neither of you moved, the world narrowing to just the two of you, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Remy leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Can I kiss you, chère?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart raced, your pulse pounding in your ears as you nodded, unable to form words. The moment you did, Remy’s lips met yours, soft and warm, sending a surge of electricity through your entire body. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened as Remy wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

You melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back, every thought in your mind dissolving into the sensation of being this close to him. His lips were firm yet soft, his touch tender but possessive, as though he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Remy rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, shallow pants. He smiled, a real smile, the kind that reached his eyes, and your heart swelled in your chest.

“Now dat’s a punchline I can get behind,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

And just like that, you laughed again, not because the joke was funny, but because you were happy—truly, completely happy.

#marvel xmen #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel #xmen imagine #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men x reader #x men #comics #headcanons #imagine #x reader #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x reader #gambit

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katydoodles · 1 year ago

Note

Sass and Luka eating ramen

SASS DESERVES THE FOOD BREAK!!!!!

#Airi you devil you #luka couffaine #ask #procreate #i just wanna hug him #Luka feeding sass makes me so happy #snake miraculous #sass

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tfmerc · 1 month ago

Text

"Kiss me..." – Simon Riley

early 20's!inexperienced!Simon Riley x Reader MDNI

masterlist - navigation - rules

Simon's eyes scanned over your figure, hands itching to reach for you; poor thing already straining in his pants. You looked heavenly, a soft hue slipping under your door causing an angelic glow against your skin. He knew he was fucked, already so worked up for mere words and trailing eyes.

"You're a pretty boy Si..." The words were whispered, floating through the air - bouncing around the blond's head. He was flushed easily, stumbling over a reply; huffing in defeat before giving a soft shake of his head.

His eyes followed the sway of your hips, the way your fingers slowly slide up your stomach and over your chest; gently unbuttoning your work shirt. Having barely finished your shift at the bowling alley before Simon was nervously ushering you into his shit box, asking for directions with a side eye.

"I ain't pretty... 'm a boy," He tried to emphasize his point by motioning to his tented sweats, shuffling uncomfortably on the sheets - tongue nervously darting out to wet his lips. Simon's eyes widened as your shirt fell from your body, "W-woah."

"You're acting like you've never seen tits before," You teased softly. Eyes hooded, filled with lust - god, you're the devil. Your hands slowly splayed out against the duvet of your bed, elbows bending as you crawled across the bed; humming softly at Simon's hitching breath.

"I– of course I have..." Simon's brows frowned, leaning away from you as you neared closer - fighting the urge to stick his gaze to your plush breasts, "Just not in person."

You almost scoffed, rolling your eyes at the naivety that radiated from Simon in waves - mixing with your experienced aroma. Blush had crept into his ears, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt - only flushing brighter as you guided his hand to cup the soft mold.

A struggled whine passed his lips, mouth opening hazily as his hips bucked - basking in the filth that was your body weight, heavy on his lap. Simon's cock jumped, hazy eyes flickering to meet yours as an airy moan filled the air, "Gods... you're– my god."

Your own hips bucked, eyelids fluttering closed as your head rolled - puffing your chest out, hands snaking up and over Simon's large shoulders; one hand trailing over the hair of his neck while the other tugged at the fabric of his shirt, "Kiss me..."

Simon nodded, hands fumbling to your hips like he'd practiced; his expression almost pained as his leaking tip rubbed against the soft cotton of his sweatpants. His lips met yours with a bump of your teeth, tongue moving hesitantly to invade your mouth - humming out a quiet whimper.

You tugged the hair at the base of his neck, melting against the messy, wet kiss - mixed saliva smearing around your lips and chin. Simon pulled away, heavy whimpers clouding any other sound in the room; hips rolling unevenly as a dark wet patch formed against the hem of his pants.

His head fell back, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes; unable to stop the wave of euphoria that washed over him; flowing from him head to toe, "'M sorry– so, so sorry..."

Giggles escaped your glossy lips, hand doing nothing to silence the sound as you watched Simon fuck himself out - still completely clothed beneath you, "It's okay... felt good, didn't it Simon?"

Simon nodded hastily, head tilting back to lax against the headboard - heavy breaths forcing his chest to rise and fall as if he'd ran a marathon, "You look like a damn cabbage patch kid, rosy little cheeks."

He whines with embarrassment moving to hide his face against your neck as you pinched at his cheeks, cock twitching with sensitivity as you ground against him once again, "Can't... stop."

"Don't worry Si... I'll have my pretty boy trained soon."

#not really a smut???#kinda ig #merc yapsesh #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #young!simon riley #reader x ghost

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vxlentinescookies · 6 months ago

Note

How about some Shadow milk cookie x reader expect it’s like before the corruption? Or at least in the past when he wasn’t—you know.

I rather have the reader have they/them pronouns, but I don’t mind if you lead towards a more feminine/masculine perspective as long as it’s not push in it too far （‐＾▽＾‐）!!

→ ❛The Past❜

→ Pairing ; Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader → Quote ; ❛❛His voice was sweet, light and airy, just like his is nowadays just that, with an air of kindness that could make anyone comfortable.❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons, Angst → A/N ; I took a bit of creative liberty with this one, still, i hope you like it nonetheless! (as a note, I hc that their names havent changed in the past to their future, esp as the loading screen indicates Mystic Flour was always named as so)

Shadow Milk Cookie, who we now recognize as the jester of many and the devil of others, wasnt always this way. You knew it, you knew it too well. Back when he was a scholar, you loved him with all your heart.

“(Y/N)! My darling, are you lost?”

“Huh?”

And sometimes, those memories were so vivid that you felt you could touch him.

Before the corruption, he was just like Pure Vanilla in some way.

Gentle, loving, more relaxed, he was your everything, your lover and companion

He used to teach cookies! He loved teaching like no other cookie, perhaps even created the profession himself

From little ones to older ones, he was always there for everyone no matter what.

“Sorry, I just— Was thinking a bit too hard.”

“Hm? Is something the matter?”

His voice was sweet, light and airy, just like his is nowadays just that, with an air of kindness that could make anyone comfortable. You just sighed and hugged him tightly, in this beautiful dream you reminisced about the past, about those golden times, and he hugged you back, smiling.

“I love you, my angel” You’d say, tears in your eyes…

And the dream faded away.

Knowledge was obviously his middle name, a very knowledgeable cookie who loved not only to teach, but to learn

You both would spend days, if not also nights studying together, learning about new things in life

Perhaps thats how you lost him, getting lost in research you became lost in the waves of knowledge.

But as you focus on him as he was, you know he was an angel, a loving partner… and perhaps, deep down, he still is.

#🌙;stellar headcanons #shadow milk cookie x reader #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader

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clitorphosis · 2 months ago

Text

AMATO AMAR PERDONA

notes: the title is taken from The Divine Comedy, Canto 5(second circle) of Inferno. Initially this was an idea I wanted to include in my other fanfiction, so I guess this can be considered as a bonus.

Priest Leon S. Kennedy x female reader | 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, light religious themes, Leon is a priest, blowjob, blasphemy kink, improper use of confessional booth, snowball kiss, semi public sex.

tags: @sprawberry

After years of fighting B.O.W, he finally sets on something calm, helping and saving people without risking his own life, but as time passes by, a bitter realization hits Leon harder than he expected; that not everyone was born for this. Maybe it is adrenaline addiction or without noticing he had found comfort in his misery at that time, but he is grateful that the routine incorporated easily into one’s life as deeds accumulate, overshadowing any thoughts about changing his life again and he didn’t have any other way other than focusing on the work.

The church is old and is not located in the best place, which tends to have windy weather. He suspected those are reasons why the building doesn’t have a lot of visitors, not like people are deeply religious nowadays either. Sometimes it feels like walls are thinner than paper, the wind brushes and whispers sweet, quiet nothings, barely audible to human ears while Leon prepares for his tasks or just lollygags during his free time. It has been said that airy currents can bring many unwanted things; pebbles, the leaves during the autumn season and the smells that disclose people’s secrets. He could never have expected it to bring a woman into his life, making it more colorful than any light arrays coming from the glass-stained windows in his church. From a small spark, a Great flame has risen.

The only thing he needed to do was to help you with your husband’s funeral, but he fucked this up. Really fucked up all this, his mind was repeating multiple times that it was his job to console you, he should have put down your little advances, but he couldn’t, deep down the urge to delve into something prohibited was stronger. The conflict between his morality and passion had died down in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Your appearance was like a quick bullet going through his routine and destroying it, adding the thrill that consumed the guilt he was supposed to feel. Little touches of your fingers, while no one is looking, quickly have moved to more intimate encounters, indulging in each other’s body on the altar, under the eyes of Jesus.

Some days, even the confessional booth was filled with your voice, telling him your desires and how much you want him to fuck your brains out of your head, to make you a dumb slut in front of the son of God and there has never been a trace of shame in your words. A long time ago he deduced a devil would sound like you; with a sweet-sweet intonation describing, in the holy place and not trying to hide all details, how his cock would fill nicely your pussy. Leon’s mind didn’t help much in those cases either. It has always vividly recalled how good your moans echo against the walls of the church. Either there is no need to imagine anything he hasn’t already done in this building, every cranny has heard and the All-seeing eye has witnessed you indulging in the temptation of each other’s body. The gentle love transforms into a deadly sin, but it is better to suffer in hell together, than alone.

His cock was already hard, tucked out, stroking it with his hand while his blue eyes are set on your knelt state. He tugs your hair, pulling you closer to his aching length, pushing it against your lips. They almost envelop its head, the soft and plush skin of them on it, he keeps tracing and brushing his tip, smearing a little bit of his already leaking precum but not letting you go any further. Almost all day passed without even a light touch which is too much for him, a man like him can have a quick good time, and teasing himself was a bad decision.

“Daddy Kennedy, that’s not polite to make a lady wait” Your tongue peeks out to lick away the bitter substance on your lips, teeth bite down slightly on the lower skin after tongue retreated. His grip on your hair tightened, cracking out a smile and pushing your head closer now.

“It is ‘Father Kennedy’” his correction leaves his mouth quickly, leading to a light slap on your lips with his cock as a silent command to open your mouth. “and I still didn’t hear any holy words from this mouth”

You loll out the tongue, feeling him dragging his leaking head against the exposed wet surface, smearing and filling your tastebuds with the bitterness of his precum, which makes more saliva pool in your mouth. The man in front of you not only teases himself but you too.

“What do we say?” He inquires breathlessly, his blue orbs almost shining from intensity and heat in the dimly lightened booth. He slaps his cock on your tongue inducing a soft wet sound to escape when it connects with the flesh.

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and corrupted your man.” Your eyes keep the contact with Leon’s as the prayer leaves your mouth quickly, something you have already repeated a billion times and he is already familiar with those words, not his first time to hear from one’s lips and it wouldn’t be the last time. This is so boring in the end, repenting feverly about something you can’t help but spit on. So why not alter it? Punishment is much more tempting than forgiveness. Your lips ghost on his aching cock, movements of your tongue brush more against the tip, flicking ‘accidentally’ at it and leaving him to covet for more. “Alas, I don’t detest all my sins cause the pain of hell is more alluring than the pleasures of heaven”

“Do I need to teach you everything?” Leon’s voice breaks the silence with a rough tone after you alter the prayer. You wish he would strike you, but he doesn’t. His attention shifts, watching a string of saliva dripping along his flesh from the tip of your tongue. Your eyes are on his face, meeting his gaze and not wavering. “Don’t you have any shame in that body of yours? Carrying on your whoring so openly in front of me” There is a silence, but even with the lack of his order you can grasp what he wants right now; the grip on your hair lessens, letting you be more free in your actions. “But be not afraid, my dove, this don’t disgust me, I am here to absolve you from your sins”

You don’t need to be ordered around to know what he implies. His body shudders when your lips embrace his cock in the wet and warm sensations around him, your hand slides down with your mouth along the length until you reach the base. Leon doesn’t notice how his own palm returns its grip on your hair, his hips buck up pushing you deeper to get more from your mouth already. A greedy bastard you would call him. Deep inside guilt tries to crawl out, but your mouth around him let this bullshit disappear and focus on how your tongue flicks against the head, playing with the sensitive spot under the tip, while your hand keeps pumping along the flesh, spreading the dripping saliva with every stroke. The acolyte corrupted by a widow, he should be drowning in guilt and beg for forgiveness of the Lord, but the sight of you in between his legs reminds him that God can’t give a blowjob in the confessional booth, maybe is that what’s tempting.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was a year ago” Leon’s ears catch another woman’s voice, pulling him out of overflowing pleasure. This can’t be you, your mouth is busy with his cock and for a brief moment, he felt his blood hitch in his veins, at this hour usually there are no visitors, but seems this isn’t your lucky day. Your head halts its movements, keeping his cock in your warm and wet mouth, looking at him with a clear surprise. An idea sparkles in your mind, and you try to move more, to push his buttons and see him struggle cause of your doings, but his hand prevents this by giving a quick tap on the back of your head; ‘Don’t move’. A quiet sob before a trembling voice speaks up again. “I accuse myself of adultery, I have been eyeing and lusting for the man who isn’t my husband, God, I-…I am so sorry”

O the irony of the situation having someone confess the sin of lust while you are kneeling in between his legs. His hand grips harder your hair to tilt your head better so the tip rubs against the soft and velvet of your cheek, stretching it and he can feel your drool roll down, staining his pants. Leon takes a brief peek at the shadowed figure in the grilled window, trying to recollect himself. Shaky breath leaves his lips, listening to a woman’s words fill the space, his blue eyes dart down to your messy frame; trying to swallow your saliva. Leon can’t keep still himself, his hips start rolling into your mouth, enjoying the wetness of your tongue brushing along his sliding length. The pleasure makes it too hard to stay still, making him greedier for more. Your tongue flicks on his tip every time his cock moves back and forth slowly, leading his head rests against the wooden wall behind him, his half-lidded gaze keeps eye contact with you.

“Have you given into the temptation?” Leon asks. His voice feels so sensual to your ears, but they aren’t addressed to you. The poor woman whispers something, but you don’t catch her words cause your attention is mostly on the dick in your mouth.

His cock slides further, the tip rubs against the back of the throat provoking it to squeeze and tighten around him nicely and you try not to gag, not to sink too deep but your efforts are useless. His grip holds you well as he pushes you lower, highlighting his control over you right now. Drool drips more, its excess gathering at the corners of your mouth. There can be heard some noises coming from you, sending pleasant vibrations over every nerve of his body, but those wet sounds get muffled by his own heavy voice and shaky voice, trying to control it and not to get caught. This wouldn’t do anything good for his reputation.

“I can hear you rue your sin… my child, so…” he swallows hard, pausing to admire your messy state; eyes are watered, some tears roll down and your cheeks are stained with mascara, your face starts to get redder and the lack of oxygen makes you feel lightheaded, holding your breath to not mess with your gag reflex. “God is… All-forgiving..” Another heavy sigh leaves his mouth, trying to control his voice and not to groan as you swallow the excess saliva, provoking another jolt of pleasure running through his body. The warmth and how you struggle made him almost choke on the moan and forget what he was saying. If not for that lady, he would be already face fucking you without any obstacles. He swallows hard again, his tone is lower now, but there is an audible shakiness. “Repent your sins and pray to be shielded” A pause, staring at you with a darkened and burned gaze. “By the temptation of the devil… my child“

He knows well who is the devil here. His voice almost breaks in a high-pitched tone at the end of the sentence, when he rolled his hips into you, again to grind his tip into the back of your throat, his leaking tip from precum fills your taste buds again and you swallow some of the salivas, making tight walls clench around him, almost begging to cum. Personally, Leon doesn’t have the patience to keep that visitor any longer here, it gets much harder to keep his voice steady and right now his own pleasure is much more important than one’s problem. And he is nothing but a man. Hearing a mumble of prayer on the other side of the booth. His grip lessens on your hair, giving you control of your movements. You pull back, letting air to reach your lungs finally. Your lips create a strand of saliva between his dick and your glistening and swollen lips, inhaling greedily for air, while his mouth is covered by palm, trying to not groan which threatens to crawl out from his lips cause of the messy sight in front of him. His struggle is like an addiction, you can’t stay away from him right now, your lips return to pepper his cock with kisses, making him twitch in the hot air of narrow space and you sink down with your mouth, sucking on the tip while hand returns to pump his length, watching him struggling not to moan. Too bad he got lucky, the other voice ceased to exist, leaving him with you.

“That’s how you pray, sweet dove” Leon teases, the corners of his lip tugging up into a smirk. You hum, sending another wave of pleasure. Another flick and he feels his balls tighten, his cock throbbing in your mouth and his fingers return to your hair, taking control of your movements back into his hands. “Such a good little thing, fuck…” Leon mumbles, feeling beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He chases the rising pleasure in his body, his hips bucking to meet your face. Deepening thrusts, his head grinds against your throat. Another low moan escapes his lips. “Sucking so well, God made you for this, right?”

All he can see is your messy face, sloppily taking him so well, Leon is so focused on you and your mouth, his orgasm approaches quicker than he expected. His body shudders and with the last thrust his cock throbs for the last time and spurts out a load of cum, filling your mouth. His legs feel numb, and with a heavy gaze he is watching your mouth fill with his fluid so well. Leon’s mind is still under the influence of his orgasm and the post-nut clarity doesn’t hit him, so he doesn’t register how you get up so quickly, your hand lays on his stubbled cheek to pull him into a kiss. Mouth opened kiss. Your tongue doesn’t shy to intrude into his mouth, sloppily kissing him and passing the warm, slightly sticky, and salty substance into his mouth. His own cum. His taste. It fills his mouth and a moan crawls out against your lips. He pulled you tightly against his body, kissing you back harder, tongue probing and sliding against each other, playing and mixing his cum with your salivas. His Adam’s apple bobs and he swallowed it, the devil cocktail, feeling hot underneath his collar. Leon pulls back from a kiss, a string of fluids connects your lips, and if there was more time, he would fuck you on some of the wooden pews or better, on the altar. Alas, all he can do right now is to reach for your mouth to trace along the swollen and wet flesh of your lower lip. Not like his are better right now, he can still taste himself on the tip of his tongue.

“The god has freed you from your sins” he whispers, still panting heavily and his gaze is intently observing you with a deep, burning desire.

“Amen, Father” you respond.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x you #death island leon #resident evil smut #leon kennedy fanfic

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ilycove · 1 year ago

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Quest mindlessly hums as he's supposed to be teaching you how to play guitar. He has you placed in between his legs, snuggled up nicely to his chest. You can feel his thighs rubbing against your hips, and you almost think you're dreaming.

His guitar strap is wrapped around your neck and his arms are over yours, mocking the movements yours are making. You can see his hands so clearly, so vividly. They're almost like a painting, his tattoo, bones, and veins sticking out perfectly, like a picture perfect memory.

He keeps whispering in your ear. Try this cord. You're doing so well. Now, place your index finger on this one. A little flatter. Bend your fingers more. Stay focused, angel. But how can you focus?

How can you focus when you can feel his lips against your ear? How can you focus when you can still feel his piercing gaze, burning through your skin? How can you focus when his chuckle is so light and airy, like something you would hear in your darkest fantasies? How can you focus when his body around you tightens, and brings you closer?

How can you focus with him around?

You feel the vibrations from his chest against his back, and you’re trying so desperately to block out all noise other than his instructions. You're trying not to listen to his husky whispers and his chuckles that make your heart flutter.

Quest’s rough pads of his thumb and index finger find their way to your chin, eyes looking down upon you with mischievous and teasing eyes. “My, we’re getting quite distracted there, aren't we?”

“Not- not at all, Quest. I’m focused. just like you asked me to.” You cleared your throat and forced your hesitant fingers to focus back on the cords you were playing, remembering his previous instructions.

“So obedient,” He chuckles once more, a deep noise resounding from the depths of his chest, eyes swirling with danger and scrunched up like he’s having the time of his life.

(He probably is.)

“You seem rather nervous though.” His grip on you tightens and faux sympathy on his face completely disappeared, replaced with a cruel smirk. His thumb rubs on the corner of your bottom lip and he leans in closer, teasing you. "Do I make you nervous, angel?”

Your breath stopped completely, and your heart was beating so loudly you were sure he could hear you. Your eyes tore away from his sight and paid close attention to his lips, slightly dry and still pulled into a grin that only the devil would wear.

“You’re awfully desperate today, aren’t you?” His warm breath fans over your lips, spearmint and strawberries being your only source of air at the moment. He outright laughs at the way you shrink away from him and bite your cheek in embarrassment.

His hand lets go of you chin, wrapping around the back of your head and pulling you closer. “That’s alright, though. You look absolutely stunning like this, wrapped around my finger.”

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phyx-m · 20 days ago

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Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 1: A Walk In The Forest With The Devil

Content warning: dubious consent (Sukuna touching reader. This chapter is quite stressful, please read with care), gore, implied cannibalism, panic attack, description of a dead body

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Heir - Public Memory Feral Love - Chelsea Wolfe

* * * * *

Prologue | Chapter 2

* * * * *

The day of your wedding felt uncomfortably hot. Everything stuck with humidity, creating a hellish, suffocating atmosphere.

Considering the situation you faced, it fits perfectly.

Fidgeting with your silk gloves, you eye yourself in the mirror, clothed in the most ridiculous kimono you've ever seen. Your sister, a calming presence behind you, has spent hours meticulously assisting with your wedding preparations.

You notice she has been babbling on about something; however, a persistent buzzing in your ears distracts you, rendering her words unintelligible. You watch her lips move rapidly, hands gesturing excessively, yet you hear nothing. She is like a vibrant river, flowing and gushing with life, while you feel like a dead animal—rotting on the ground, forgotten.

A bead of sweat threatens to escape from your hairline, and you worry it will ruin your sister's efforts. Although you don't particularly care, she has been working on this for quite some time.

You blink twice, staring at your gloved hands, wringing them as you gather your thoughts.

"Sorry, Yuna, what did you say?" you ask as you snap out of your daze.

Your sister briefly pouts before returning to secure the final piece of your garment. She seems to believe this is a genuine wedding, oblivious that her safety hinges on your compliance. All she knows is that your father has arranged for you to marry Ryomen Sukuna, aiming to secure peace between your clans, which is a lie.

"I said, if it's worth anything, you look beautiful right now," Yuna remarks, stepping back to admire you. She licks her thumb and smooths a few stubborn strands of hair that refuse to cooperate in the heat.

Beauty is the last thing on your mind.

"Thank you. I feel lovely," you manage to say through gritted teeth, swallowing her compliment and forcing a smile. All you want is to reassure her until this is over.

Your sister smiles warmly and moves around you, ensuring every detail is perfect. You observe a slight furrow on her brow as she focuses on enhancing your beauty. In your mother's absence, she's taking on this role admirably, which breaks your heart. Thoughts of her bring a lump to your throat, so you turn your attention back to the task at hand.

You fill your mind with the plan to assassinate your future husband. Knowing it won't be simple.

The King of Curses is a powerful adversary, and you lack combat skills. Remembering your father's strict instruction to avoid publicly killing him so as not to dishonour the attending clans, you opt for seduction as your strategy. The plan is to make him vulnerable and catch him off guard. Perhaps you can end it all with some batting of your eyelashes, a few chaste touches, and a kiss or two.

"What do you think he will be like?" Yuna asks as she fusses with some gaudy ornament in your hair.

You pause to consider several possibilities: a psychopath, a cannibal, a fiend. Which description would comfort her more?

"I'm certain he will be the perfect gentleman," you reply flatly, making sure not to reveal anything as you observe your sister in the mirror's reflection. You notice her tongue poking out in concentration as she arranges your hair.

"Do you think he will be gentle, with all those hands and mouths of his?" she asks, blushing as she adjusts the hairpiece.

You freeze. Did she really have to bring that up now?

"You're asking me about that?" you give her a pointed glare.

You had never met Sukuna and had only heard stories of his unusual physical abnormalities. You understood her curiosity, but still...

She shrugs and laughs. The sound is light and airy, reflecting her carefree nature.

“I was curious what you thought was all,” she casually remarks before continuing her task.

You won't experience being with him like that because he'll be dead, or at least you hope so. You've never seduced a man before, but you understand how men operate. They appear to desire anything that moves, and you know you'll look stunning today. How could he possibly resist?

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in!" you and your sister say simultaneously. The harmony warms your heart.

Your father enters the room, and your mood instantly sours. You glare at him in the mirror before turning away as he approaches.

"My lovely girls!" He says with a smile that feels more cutting than warm, his arms outstretched. You avoid his gaze, nervously fidgeting with your hands again, tempted to pull your sister closer but restraining yourself.

"Father!" Yuna exclaims cheerfully, moving towards him and linking her arm through his. You want nothing more than to get up and shake some sense into her. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"

As they approach, your father scrutinizes you in the mirror while you return his glare. He examines every detail, clearly expecting you to look impeccable and behave respectfully to charm the monster.

Through your eyes, an unspoken conversation unfolds. You watch as he places a firm hand on your sister's waist and another on your shoulder. His fingers dig into you.

You flinch.

Don’t touch me.

You despise being touched, especially by your father, whose grip is always too tight, too forceful. And at this moment, the threat is unmistakable. You swallow the lump in your throat and resist the urge to pull away.

"Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe her. She's positively glowing like a dying star just waiting to burn out," he remarks with a hint of irony.

The smile you force in response is like bitter poison.

Meanwhile, your oblivious sister moves to the corner of the room to fetch something.

Your father leans in close to you as you face the mirror.

"Remember, if you dare to disappoint me, her body will be the punishment," he whispers ominously before straightening up. You maintain a composed expression as your sister returns with a stem of wisteria flowers.

She stands before you, delicately placing the fragile blooms in your hair to complete the look.

"There," she announces, stepping back next to your father to assess her handiwork. "You look perfect." You're almost tempted to appreciate your appearance, but really, what’s the point?

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in!" Your sister calls out alone this time while you and your father exchange hostile glances.

The door opens, and standing there is Onishi, your father’s chief advisor—a man known for his vile reputation. Now that you and your sister are adults, his lecherous looks only became more pointed and invasive, causing your stomach to knot. You remembered all too well how he used to stare at you both as young girls with a shameless hunger that made your skin crawl.

“Lord Kasai, the wedding procession is ready to depart,” he informs your father. After a bow, he quickly leaves the room, briefly glancing at your sister on his way out.

Time to go.

Your sister squeals with excitement, making you wrinkle your nose. She can be so clueless sometimes.

"Well, my darlings, let's not keep Lord Sukuna waiting," your father says, pulling you both close under his arms. You resent this display of control he's asserting, and you lean away from the embrace. "I'm certain today will be unforgettable."

* * * * *

The Kasai clan compound, your home, was a three-day ride from where you had prepared today. By midday, everyone departs on horseback.

Your sister and father lead the procession. Behind them, you follow closely, flanked by several attendants who occasionally offer you means to cool yourself. A large contingent of clan members trail behind.

The road stretches southward, guiding your journey toward the shrine where the wedding celebrations would soon commence. It will also become your new home, which won’t be permanent in your mind.

Riding a horse in your elaborate multi-layer garment is challenging, especially compounded by the relentless sun that seems determined to wreak havoc on your appearance. You are certain your hair is unravelling, and your makeup is smudging down your face. Your sister will be upset when she sees you dismount.

As the procession moves deeper into the forest towards its destination, you can’t ignore your horse's peculiar behaviour. Its ears stand upright, constantly swivelling as if attentively listening to an unseen presence. A low whine emanates from its throat, and its tail twitches nervously. You can feel the tension in its muscles beneath you, as though it was on the verge of bolting away from whatever was unsettling it.

"Easy now, girl," you whisper soothingly, placing a calming hand on the horse's neck. Despite your attempts to quiet her, she exhales sharply through her nostrils, betraying her fear.

Lifting your head, you let your gaze sweep over the packed dirt road and the dense forest flanking it on both sides.

Nothing.

Then, suddenly, a murder of crows erupts from the treetops ahead, their harsh caws muted over the pounding of hooves. They scatter out of the forest, their black forms stark against the hazy sky.

People say animals can sense danger before it strikes, alert to the presence of a predator.

Your eyes dart to your sister and father leading the group.

"Father!" Your voice rings out with urgency.

"Quiet!" he snaps, the word sharp like a point.

Both of them immediately pull hard on their reins, bringing their horses to an abrupt halt. You tug on your own, urging your horse to stop. The rest of the group follows suit, halting in a rippling sequence behind you. Adjusting your position on the horse, you straighten up and scan the surroundings again, looking for any clue as to why you had suddenly stopped.

The sun seems to be almost burning now. Sweat rolls down your back, soaking your garment. A soft breeze blows through the trees, initially refreshing as it cools your sweaty skin. However, it carries something else with it.

The acrid scent of blood assaults your nostrils. It’s thick, drying out your mouth.

Then you hear the sound of flesh tearing under teeth.

Fear snakes through your bones before you notice the presence of the man—or rather, the monster—crouching near the forest's edge. Partially concealed by the tall grass, his body was tense and flexing as he held a woman—who appeared to be dead—in his lower pair of arms.

You've witnessed plenty of violence and brutality in your time. But nothing could have prepared you for witnessing this. No one was ready. You were acutely aware of the attendant behind, muttering in panicked whispers. You can’t bring yourself to turn and face her, not wanting to give this anomaly your back.

With a horrific crack and a pull, an arm was torn off and flung somewhere unseen. There was more sick, wet pounding of flesh before it eventually quieted. It became unnervingly quiet. Too quiet. Angling his head slightly, he was no doubt aware of your group’s presence. You notice two red eyes on one side, studying everyone while simultaneously looking elsewhere.

Finally, he stood to his full height.

Massive. He is massive.

Even from this distance, his intimidating presence was unmistakable.

He turns, his enormous strides carrying him out of the tall grass. In one of his lower hands, he clutched the dead woman by her forearm.

Your stomach drops as you realize this is your first glimpse of your soon-to-be husband.

He was dressed in only a loose-fitting hakama, which you had initially thought was white but now appears dark and flecked with blood stains. Blush pink hair glints in the harsh sunlight. You've heard rumours about his dual visage, but seeing it in person makes you uncertain where to focus.

Blood drips from his mouth and chin, which he refuses to wipe off. The dead woman he clutches bears wounds on her neck and shoulder that he seems fixated on. A torn flap of skin hangs loosely from where he had been feasting and sways with his movements.

At that moment, a horrible thought crosses your mind: you feel tempted to turn your horse around and flee, which would doom your sister. The fact that you even entertain such an idea bewilders you.

You notice your father's horse taking a few steps, effectively snapping you from your daze.

"Sukuna Ryomen," your father's voice falters as he utters the name. Inwardly, you laugh, pleased to see your father humbled. "As the patriarch of the Kasai clan, I am here to fulfill our agreement to unite our clans through marriage."

Sukuna remains silent. He stands motionless, letting his ominous energy roll off him in waves that make you feel like you are drowning. His four red orbs survey everyone calmly, calculating every detail.

With a subtle scoff, he begins to approach the procession.

Holding the woman tightly in a lower hand, he drags her flaccid body across the ground, allowing the lolling face to scrape over rocks and clumps of dirt. Her hair, which was once a deep copper-brown, is matted with blood, and bits of foliage cling to tangled strands. What used to be a cream-coloured robe is stained red and torn in certain areas.

As he gets closer, the horses' unease swells. They snort and puff outbursts of hot air while their hooves paw at the ground, creating a rhythm of nervous energy.

The monster fixes his gaze on your sister and father. Upon reaching them, he intently studies her. You struggle with every ounce of restraint to keep from intervening.

A muscle feathers in his firmly set jaw, and then he opens his mouth to speak.

"Is this my bride?" he drawls.

His voice is deep, rough, stern, rattling your insides.

You're surprised your sister maintains her composure, betraying no reaction. However, you do notice her shoulders subtly giving way.

"No. This is my other daughter, Yuna." Your father turns toward you, giving you a challenging look to step forward and begin your task.

It’s time to introduce yourself to the King of Curses.

Nudging your frightened horse forward, you begin to approach. The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, a steady thump that reverberates through your chest and settles heavily in your stomach.

Sukuna lazily drags his attention to you, gaze picking you apart from head to toe, keenly noting the signs of weariness from your journey. He’s displeased. His expression betrays his feelings, darkening with disgust as his upper lip twitches.

"Wait! My Lord, you're not supposed to see the bride yet. It's bad luck," Yuna's voice rises, making you blanch.

Bad luck? This entire cursed nuptial was bad luck.

Ignoring your sister, Sukuna moves forward. His bare feet thud against the packed earth. He drags the mangled woman behind him as if unwilling to let it go. You approach each other until you're face to face.

Even sitting on horseback, you're just barely at eye level with him. The absurd height difference is evident. Tilting his head slightly, he picks you apart with the same intensity he used to pick apart the body he holds.

A prickling sensation radiates beneath your gloves, tingling from your palms to your fingertips as anxiety creeps in.

Movement on his navel draws your attention away from his face. A slit appears, slowly widening to reveal a large, grotesque maw lined with teeth. As you watch in horrified fascination, a tongue unfurls from the opening, wriggling out and licking the air. Repulsed, you look away.

How can you possibly charm this thing?

Your horse shifts nervously, making you tense as you tightly grip the reins in your hands.

"Easy, girl," you soothe her with a pat before bracing yourself to speak to him for the first time.

“Lord Sukuna, my name is—”

"You're even uglier than I expected," he interrupts harshly, lips curling back in a sneer, showing teeth stained with blood.

The audacity. You clench your teeth, hard, resisting the urge to insult him back.

"My Lord?" you manage to grit out.

Sukuna stares for a moment before bursting into deep, unrestrained laughter.

"My Lord? " he repeats, mocking you. "Oh, she has been trained, how delightful," His laughter edges towards manic as he drops the body, letting it slump beside your mount. "What other tricks did they teach you, little bitch? Tell me."

It takes everything you can to resist the urge to retaliate to his provocations. Your gaze flicks to your father, who shoots you a stern look, silently warning you to behave. You understand that provoking Sukuna could endanger everyone, which you don’t want, especially with your sister present.

“Nothing else to say? How disappointing,” Sukuna hums, crossing his upper arms over his chest.

Oh, how you want to cut him down.

“My Lord, I would—”

"Daughter," your father interjects firmly before you can finish your sentence. "Lord Sukuna, we would be honoured if you joined us for the rest of the journey to your shrine," he adds, adjusting his posture slightly to assert control.

Sukuna appears deep in thought, maintaining unwavering eye contact with you. It feels like a tense, silent standoff. You make an effort to keep your expression neutral and as charming as possible.

You still feel like you're drowning under those red orbs.

"Hm, no," he says flatly, lifting the body from the ground.

Keeping unbroken eye contact with you, he grips a fistful of the woman's dirtied hair, fingers digging into the skull, his muscles tense. Slowly, he begins to pull. You watch with horror as the flesh stretches until, gradually, it tears. There's a snap as the muscle fibres finally give way and a plume of blood spurts. The head comes off, neck and all.

You gag.

Vomit crawls its way up your throat. You lean forward, gripping your horse for support as you fight the urge to retch. Several unsteady mutters ripple through the rest of your group.

Sukuna, pleased with your reaction, casually discards the body onto the ground. You watch as blood and gore soak into the earth. He then proceeds to stroll toward your father and presents him with the severed head. Your father accepts begrudgingly and without uttering a word.

Is this some kind of power play between two men vying for control?

Sukuna murmurs a few words to your father, casting a final glance in your direction before calmly striding toward the edge of the forest. You watch as he takes measured steps, his figure gradually disappearing into the dense canopy of trees, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

You exhale.

What just happened?

Your father, still holding the woman’s decapitated head, lets it fall to the ground with a wet thud. He then shifts his attention to you, motioning for you to approach. Guiding your mount closer, you position yourself beside him.

"He is wretched," you spit out, glancing over at your sister, whose eyes widen in alarm at your dishevelled state.

"You look awful," she exclaims, her voice filled with concern. "I will need to fix everything once we arrive."

"Why is that your priority at this moment?" you ask incredulously, taken aback by her apparent lack of concern for the situation. The expression on your sister's face in response makes you immediately regret your words, but the scene you've just witnessed is now carved into your mind. That poor woman’s body. Mutilated, torn apart, and discarded on the road to dry up in the sun.

"It doesn't matter now. There won't be time for that," your father interrupts firmly, dismounting his horse and striding towards you.

"Father?" your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Sukuna requests you accompany him back to the shrine. We will meet you there shortly to commence the ceremony," he emphasizes, pulling you down from your horse, the folds of your kimono cascading around you.

The idea fills you with unease. You weren't prepared to be alone with him yet.

"Is there any way to refuse?" you inquire tentatively.

"No," your father snaps abruptly, gripping your forearm tightly as he steers you towards the tree line. You manage to wrench your arm free, earning a stern glare from him as he steps closer, his face before yours.

"Use this to your advantage," he whispers urgently. "If you find an opportunity, seize it. You might not have to go through with the wedding."

Your throat constricts as you swallow hard.

“But you saw what he just did. What if he tries to kill me?”

The scowl on his mouth deepens, shifting the cartilage in his nose. His lips purse into a thin line, making the creases and wrinkles on his face appear sharp and unkind.

“He won't. He relishes his power over our family now that we have given you to him. Now get in that fucking forest before I have Onishi slit your sister’s throat or worse.”

Your upper lip quivers at the threat. "Okay," you respond nervously.

"Good, now get going," he says harshly, spittle flying from his mouth. He shoves you into the thick undergrowth.

Stumbling slightly, you manage to turn back for one last glance at your sister. Her anxious gaze meets yours, and you silently mouth, "I'll meet you at the shrine."

Taking a deep breath, you gather the edges of your kimono and step into the dense forest.

The reality of being alone with Sukuna for the first time begins to settle in, causing your palms to sweat inside your silk gloves. You steel yourself, knowing you must find a way to turn this situation to your advantage.

Time to confront the monster yourself.

* * * * *

You continue beyond the tree line. The sound of hooves stomping into the earth echoes behind you, indicating that the procession has resumed its journey toward the shrine.

After a few careful steps, you come to a halt. Sukuna is nowhere in sight. You listen intently for his heavy footfalls, but are only met with silence. You are completely alone out here, which gives you pause, remembering how all the animals reacted in his presence. Your fingers twitch nervously at your side.

You exhale.

Should I call out to him?

“Lord Sukuna?” Your voice echoes.

Silence.

Glancing around, something catches your attention—a spattering of blood on foliage. Perhaps a trail left by him. With no other leads, you decide following the bloodstains might guide you to him.

Lifting your kimono to prevent tripping, you cautiously navigate around a cluster of rocks and tree roots, tracing the path marked by blood. You mutter under your breath; you feel slightly anxious that he might be compelling you to search for him.

With each step, you delve deeper into the forest.

The rising humidity envelops you in an uncomfortable embrace, and a stray strand of hair falls across your vision, adding to the growing disarray. "You are even uglier than I expected," his cruel words rattle around in your brain. Letting out a strained sigh, you realize this isn’t going to be easy.

As you continue to walk, your mind drifts to the dead, partially eaten woman rotting on the dirt road. What if your father’s judgment is wrong, and Sukuna ambushes you? Can you truly consider yourself safe from his wrath merely by your title as his bride? What will become of your sister should anything happen to you? Struggling to quell these unsettling thoughts, you make a concerted effort to regain your focus.

After some time, the blood trail ends, leading you to a flowing stream. The surface sparkles in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Sweat pools at your lower back, prompting you to pull the fabric away in search of relief. Eyeing the water, you are tempted to wade in to escape the stifling heat. You lick your parched lips and decide to at least dip your toes in.

You step towards it, and the air changes. An ominous energy glides up your body, making you stop.

He’s here, and he’s watching you.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Your eyes dart around the area until his large frame catches your attention. He stands beneath the shadow of an oak tree by the water’s edge, watching you intently, pinning you down with those red orbs. As soon as he sees you've noticed him, he steps away from where he is standing and approaches.

Why must he be so enormous? Every aspect of his presence commands attention. You cannot look or breathe without wanting to crawl away and cower.

A slight tremble in your legs keeps you rooted to the spot as he deliberately takes his time approaching you. His pace is unhurried, as if he possesses all the time in the world while you are the one left waiting.

Tightness knots low in your belly.

At last, he reaches you, towering like a monolith and casting a dark shadow with his presence. You had been looking down, but self-consciously, you lifted your head, straining your neck to look up at him.

You won't deny it. Sukuna is striking in a harsh and cruel sort of way. His features are strong, with a straight nose, an angled jawline, and a defined brow. His neck is thick, all corded muscle, and it’s clear you wouldn’t be able to wrap both of your hands around it if you wanted to strangle him. His blush pink hair is pushed back, set in a way that seems like controlled chaos. The right side of his face, with that mask and its larger orbs, pulls at you the most. The texture of it appears rough, with grooves that jut out slightly. You wonder why or what it even is. The rest of him is dense, with prominent tendons and fibres.

Upon closer inspection, you observe that his face, hands, and chest are now free of blood. A subtle sheen suggests he has recently cleaned himself, likely explaining why the trail led you to this stream. Several beads of water trickle slowly down his neck, outlining paths over his exposed chest.

Your throat dries as you realize you've been staring for too long. You lower your gaze, unable to endure the silence any further, and clear your throat.

“You asked for my presence, my Lord?” you ask nervously.

Without responding, he begins circling you like a predator, each step resonating with the crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot. Unnerved, you keep your eyes fixed on him, striving to maintain your composure as he examines you from every angle. This scrutiny continues several times, with him circling, examining, and deliberating. Finally, he comes to a halt in front of you.

“How old are you?” he probes.

“Twenty-five,” you reply quietly.

“Hm.”

Leaning closer, he reaches out a hand towards your face, compelling you to flinch instinctively. He notices your reaction, which causes him to grin, contorting the black tattoos on his face. Running his fingers through your smudged makeup, his touch is deliberate and firm, leaving impressions on your skin. You bite down on the inside of your cheek. As he pulls his hand back, you notice streaks of makeup staining his fingertips, which he rubs together thoughtfully.

“When we arrive, take that shit off your face,” he remarks curtly.

You clench your fists.

“Of course.”

With a vacant stare fixed on you, he extends his fingers towards you again. This time, he plucks the wisteria flowers that survived the journey and removes them one by one from your hair. Thoughtlessly casting aside the delicate adornments your sister had carefully placed, he then moves away from you. You observe in silence, gazing down at the fragile purple petals strewn upon the ground.

A sharp ache seizes your chest.

“Come,” he orders over his shoulder, beckoning you with two fingers and starting to walk with an air that suggests he expects you to follow like a dog called to heel. Despite the demeaning manner, you gather your hem to hurry after him.

Deeper into the forest. Closer to the shrine.

The walk continues in disquiet, the forest enveloping you with its silence. The canopy above provides scant refuge from the brutal sun, and the thick humidity lingers. Bringing your hand up, you attempt to fan yourself, hindered by the discomfort of your damnable kimono.

As you trail behind Sukuna, you continue assessing him, searching for any weakness or exploitable detail. Your gaze fixes on his four muscular arms, noticing the black ink adorning his skin. Next, the sinewy movement of his back muscles captures your attention.

He looms large and solid. A huge target.

Narrowing your eyes, you focus on the space between his lower shoulders, tracing the lines of his back tattoo. Beneath your silk gloves, your fingers itch uncomfortably, the urge to reach out and end him growing stronger.

With his back turned to you, this could be your chance.

With trembling hands, you peel off one glove and grip it tightly in the other. Moving cautiously, you edge closer to Sukuna, careful to avoid making excessive noise. As you extend your hand, you must concentrate hard to reach your gift. Finally, you sense its faint hum beneath your fingertips. Your heart pounds in your chest, drowning out all other sounds as you prepare for this pivotal moment.

End this before it even begins—

"What the hell are you doing?" Sukuna abruptly halts his steps and turns around, staring down at you.

No!

You retract your hand in a panicked blur, hastily shoving it back into your glove. His lower eyes fixate on your hand while his upper pair scrutinize your flushed, heated face.

“N-nothing,” you mumble, voice barely audible, feeling the space around him growing hostile.

A serious crease forms above his nose.

“You were about to touch me with your vile little fingers. Did I say you could touch me?” His voice turns cold, laced with aggression.

“Well, no, I—”

“Then what the fuck were you doing?” He steps closer, gripping your chin, preventing you from looking away. “I don’t appreciate being touched by mutts.”

Nervously, you wring your hands together, fingers intertwining in a familiar gesture that surfaces whenever you are anxious.

His grip becomes harsh. Dull nails dig into your soft skin. You frantically search for an explanation.

"I apologize," you somehow manage to say, your voice shaky. "I... I wanted to... to see your tattoos up close," you blurt out, immediately regretting the feeble excuse.

“Tch. You wanted to see my tattoos,” he says, tone heavy with disbelief.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have done that.” You soften your voice, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“Are you that needy that you felt the necessity to touch me before we are wed?”

Your skin bristles.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.”

Sukuna releases your chin and crosses his arms, staring intently at you as though lost in thought, reflecting deeply on something. You find yourself disliking this demeanour of his. It makes him less predictable and more cunning, as if he’s devising new ways to toy with you.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly, throwing you off guard.

Irritation and embarrassment flush your face at the intrusive question.

"Excuse me?" You attempt to keep the bitterness out of your voice, though it rises an octave.

“You heard me.” A smirk breaks across his lips. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Another flush of irritation races up your spine, leaving you peppered with more sweat than you can handle.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” The words slip out before you can consider their consequences.

The smirk that was there a moment ago is now gone. Sukuna's upper arm snaps out, his fingers engulfing your entire neck. He pulls you close, pressing your clothed chest against his bare one, effectively preventing any swift retaliation. You feel your heartbeat pulsing against the flat of his palm.

Fear worms its way into you.

Looming into your face, his breath washes over you.

“Are you an imbecile? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“No,” you breathe as his grip tightens slightly.

He looks down at your face with disdain, waiting for a response.

A heartbeat passes.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, feeling exposed. “I’m a virgin.”

Casting a haughty look, Sukuna smacks his lips together. His grip loosens on your throat, and then it falls away.

He scoffs.

“Of course, look at you. You're pathetic.”

You hold your tongue, casting him a slight frown that you swiftly erase, though he catches it.

"Don't look at me like that," he laughs, the noise lacking any warmth. “Now I see why you wanted my attention." His expression shifts again to something indiscernible. His mood swings are starting to grate on you. "I can address that issue for you sooner, perhaps even immediately."

You take a small step back.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord?" You respond respectfully, uncertain if you heard him correctly. He lifts his eyebrow and steps forward, returning your nervous gaze with a more contentious expression.

“You seem to be hard of hearing. I've had to repeat myself, and it's becoming tedious." His voice is low, the words wrapping around your throat as if they’re his hands.

You step back again.

He moves closer.

Your heart races as you realize you’re not prepared for this moment. You planned to lure the creature and catch him off guard, but now you find yourself caught off guard instead.

"I don't think that's appropriate,” you murmur, edging further away. “Let's wait until after the ceremony.”

"I think I’ll have a taste of my bride before she becomes my wife." His mouth rolls up, flashing a bit of canines that appear all too sharp, while his eyes widen with hunger.

That look tells you everything. You've glimpsed it before, fleetingly on other men but never so intensely.

He’s ravenous.

Your instincts scream at you to run, but fleeing will only cause more trouble. As your father put it, this is an opportunity. Fine, you’ll take it—use it. Find another moment to place a hand on the monster and end him.

Forcing yourself to freeze in place, you watch through your lashes as he approaches slowly, like you're a forest animal he’s afraid of scaring off. How deceptive of him. This thing is not gentle. He’s fucking toying with you.

Reaching down, you subtly pinch one of your silk gloves, preparing to slip it free while he distracts himself with your body. But before you can act, one of his lower hands clamps around your wrist.

You tense, eyes snapping to his.

Shit.

A crooked grin widens across Sukuna’s face, and suddenly, he’s maneuvering you.

Turning you, he pulls you into him so hard that your back thuds against his chest. The impact fuses both your bodies together, your softness to his cutting muscle. Swiftly, he grasps your other wrist, holding both firmly at your sides, while the top pair presses down on your shoulders, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his red gaze.

“Let's see how sensitive your body is.” His voice deepens as he leans over your shoulder and slides his upper hands down the front of your garment.

Don’t panic. Do not panic.

Two hands dip into the panels of your kimono, and he takes his time while his hands find their way into your undergarment. Massive palms splay against your breasts, cupping them firmly, making you whimper as your body grows warmer.

Sukuna bends, lowering his head next to yours.

"Already whining?" There’s a smirk in his voice, and as he speaks low against your nape, his breath gently stirs your hair. The heavy dampness in the forest, mingling with his warm exhale, threatens to overwhelm you.

Saliva pools then dries in your mouth, and when you try to respond, no words come out.

Pushing up on your sensitive breasts, Sukuna begins to knead and poke his fingertips into the soft flesh. You pant as his left hand comes up to the place where your pulse thrums wildly in your chest.

"Your little heart is beating so fast," he chuckles. "There's no need to be afraid."

That ever-present condescending tone makes your face scrunch up, and you shift uncomfortably.

His right hand clenches reflexively on your breast while the other withdraws from the stuffy garment. You watch nervously as it ascends to the neckline of your kimono, his fingers curling possessively around the delicate fabric.

He stills. You swallow.

“What are you do—”

He rips it open in one smooth motion, exposing your swelling chest and nipples to his eyes.

“There you are,” he hisses.

In shame, you slam your eyes shut. This man, this creature, is the first to ever see you.

“Open your eyes!” The command cuts sharply, but it's softened by something gently brushing the crest of your ear.

Shuddering, you reluctantly obey, only to observe his large fingers circling your areolas, moving lazily, tauntingly.

Your breathing increases, and you become lightheaded. Turning your head slightly, you attempt to focus on anything—a tree, a rock, anything to distract from the moment.

"Don’t look away.” He tightens his lower hands on your wrists to the point of pain. Your head snaps back, and you look down at your heaving chest. "Better."

Leaning closer, Sukuna’s mask comes into view as he presses it against your face. Your soft, damp cheeks rub against it, allowing you to feel its rough texture and protruding edges. His lower eyes fixate on your breasts while his upper eyes cut to the side, locking on you, drinking in every expression.

Your head swims dangerously.

As Sukuna’s hot breath hits the side of your neck, a solitary bead of sweat trails its way down, gliding past your collarbone, tracing the path to your sternum, and down between your breasts. He pauses the circling of your nipples, as both of you stare, transfixed, captivated by the droplet's unhurried journey until it finally disappears into the fabric of your torn clothing.

A low growl rumbles in Sukuna’s chest, a primal sound that signals his imminent action.

After a moment, he makes his move.

The fingers that have been slowly circling your sensitive flesh drawback. Swiftly, he flicks your nipples. Your breasts sway slightly. Then he does it again. Then again. And again. The feeling is acute and sharp. They harden. Your mouth drops open, and you let out a traitorous groan.

“Already?” he chuckles.

Already what?!

Your mind struggles to comprehend what's happening. And he only makes it worse when his fingers latch onto the sensitive tips, pinching and rolling them, making your back arch against his chest.

“Look at you,” he grunts, watching your spine bow and curve.

The forest is gone from your vision now. Heat is everywhere, crawling over you, seeping into your pores.

Another harsh tug makes your whole body tremble uncontrollably.

"N-no more," you mumble, squirming in his grip, face turning into a sticky mess of sweat.

Ignoring you, he applies more pressure to the hardening nubs, rolling them between his thumb and index fingers with no regard for your words.

He flicks your nipples again, earning him a low whine. Leaning in, he drags his sharp canines across your neck, leaving red marks, followed by a swipe of his rough tongue. You freeze, remembering how he used those teeth to rip flesh from the woman on the road. Panicking, you squirm, shuffling your feet in the undergrowth. Sukuna huffs in disapproval and shoves a knee between your thighs to halt your movements.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his gaze fixed downward, reflecting an intense concentration as he continues to torment your nipples. Sharp pinpricks dance across your skull, intensifying the pulsing in your head. You’re certain you are going to blackout. The overwhelming warmth, the blurred vision, the relentless onslaught—it’s too much.

Letting go of one—now sore—bud, he lets that hand drop down to your navel. The descent is slow, pushing through the torn fabric with ease. He presses his fingertips into your damp skin, rippling it and mapping it out with his touch.

“What else are you keeping from me?” His voice becomes impossibly deeper.

“Please. Lord Sukuna,” you rasp.

"Please, what? It seems you’re having issues with speaking and listening.” His hand comes to a stop, splaying just above your cunt.

Your breath catches in your throat.

You aren’t ready. Not like this. Not with him.

A sudden sensation startles you. On his palm, it’s as if something has opened up unexpectedly, though all you can discern is the sensation of a wet tongue emerging and intimately licking your skin.

Your eyes close as you struggle to breathe, gasping for gulps of the muggy air.

“Please—”

The damp muscle on his palm licks harder, slathering you in a thick coat of saliva, pulling you back so your eyes open again.

His fingers trail lower… lower, then suddenly pause before withdrawing slightly. It’s as if he’s trying to push you over the edge. See how far he can unravel you. But it doesn’t matter. You’re fighting to stay focused, to stay upright even.

“I’m—I’m going to—”

Your words fade as your vision blurs.

Despite Sukuna's solid frame supporting you from behind, your body slackens under the weight of it all: the forced marriage arrangement, your overwhelming responsibility, the looming threat to your sister's life, the oppressive heat, the monster at your back.

Suddenly, you feel nothing holding you up. You're weightless. Sukuna has seemingly let go of your shaking body, and you’re falling, sinking, eyes closing.

As soon as you hit the forest floor, you faint.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 2

#true form sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk fanfic #beneath the silk #heian sukuna #dark content #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #dark fantasy

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