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monstersflashlight · 5 months ago

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This post was supposed to be a long story but I got impatient and posted it. Now we have the full story. Hope y’all like it as much as I do. <3

Orc professor

Orc x chubby fem!reader || power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cum play, breeding, size kink, age gap, degradation, praise kink

It was your third failed mini-test when you thought enough was enough. Your hot orc professor was too attractive for your sanity. He was so hot with his cardigans and whatever he wore that you were always distracted, unable to take notes. It was his fault, and you needed to remedy that before you failed the whole class. You just needed to talk to him and see what could you do to pass. You’ll do some extra homework, maybe write a few more papers. Anything. A naughty part of you wanted to offer him sex favors, but you knew he wasn’t that kind of orc. Maybe.

You knocked on his office door and heard the muffled “come in”. You opened the door and your breath was taken away because how fucking attractive he was. The black framed glasses and salt and pepper hair just accentuating his green skin. Your panties got wet instantly. Fuck. Why had he to be so fucking hot? It would be a lot easier if he was just an old wrinkly dude.

“What do you need from me?” He looked up from the papers he was grading and that look combined with that phrase made your pussy tingle. Fuck, you were so turned on by everything he did.

He could be talking about the condensation of the trees in the desert and you’ll be panting in the back of the class, panties wet. And right now, you were worried your arousal was going to form a wet patch in your pants. This needed to be fast before you embarrassed yourself.

“I- I want to know if I can do some extra activities to improve my performance in your class.” You told him as fast as you could, sitting down in front of him and trying really hard not to rub your thighs together.

The frantic pulse of your heart was mirrored on your clit, and it was driving you completely crazy. Being so close to him was like an aphrodisiac in itself.

“What kind of activities do you suggest?” He seemed uninterested. Some part inside of you got mad at him, you were clearly trying to improve and he looked like an asshole who didn’t care if his students passed or not. And for some reason that only made him hotter. You needed to get laid soon before you humped his leg or something.

“I- I don’t know. I just need to pass your class. Please, I’ll do anything,” you begged. You were sure it was too much, but he looked at you, a spark of interest in his dark pupils.

You realized how bad it sounded when you thought about it. You tried to take it back, say you didn’t mean it like that, but then he surprised you asking back: “Anything?” His smirk was enough to send lighting down your pussy, your panties soaking through your clothes. Good Goddess, how was he so fucking hot?

Contrary to your better judgment, and probably thinking just with your southern parts, you matched his teasing tone as you answered: “Yes, yes. Anything.” You leaned closer to his table, showing more tits than you knew you should. But fuck it. If you couldn’t pass this class, at least you could fuck the hottest professor on campus.

He leaned back on his chair, his eyes flickering to your almost exposed breasts. He hummed and finally said: “Okay, little human, we’ll make a deal.” You nodded eagerly, so ready to do whatever he asked.

If he asked you to get naked and suck his cock right there, you would fall to your knees so fast he wouldn’t even see you moving. You were more than ready, so wet and needy you could feel the wetness pooling inside your thighs, probably through your pants. The walk home was going to be so uncomfortable. Ugh.

But you weren’t expecting his offer to be so filthy, so nasty. “Each morning, you’ll arrive a bit early, and you will handle me your panties. Used panties. And I want you to take them off in front of me, so I suggest you start wearing those slutty skirts you love so much.” You were bamboozled by his words.

Did he notice you? Did he like your skirts, too? He must like them if he noticed you wearing them so often. And he though they were slutty (they were, and you might or might not wear them to see if he reacted). A part of you wanted to be offended, but the other part of you was ready to say yes. Yes to that, yes to anything.

He interpreted your silence as agreement and kept talking. “If you do that, you will pass my class. That works for you?” He was back to looking uninterested, but you saw right through his facade.

His hand was resting suspiciously close to his groin, and you could almost make the outline of a dick. A huge dick, but you weren’t sure. You wanted to lean closer to inspect it, but you refrained, your head spinning with everything that just happened.

“Yes. Yes. Perfect. I’ll do it. Thank you, thank you, thank you…” You repeated a dozen times before he dismissed you. There was a big grin on his face when you left. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass as you walked out. Point for you.

The first couple days it went without a hitch. You arrived early, and he was always there, expecting you with a knowing smirk. You usually made a show of pushing your panties down your legs and grabbing them, never actually showing him anything, but making it obvious that you were enjoying yourself with the game you two were playing. He always smelled them and hummed appreciatively, making your clit get excited instantly. You loved when men were vocal in bed. In his case, when monster’s were.

Where all monsters more vocal than humans? You never slept with a monster before. You always wanted to try, but never knew someone who excited you as much as your orc professor. The first time you saw him you tripped on your feet and almost hit the ground. He was so much older than you, he could probably be your father, but good lord if you wouldn’t love to call him daddy.

After the fourth day giving him your panties, you got a bit bolder. You turned around and bent down, making sure he was seeing your naked pussy and fat ass as you did so. The red lacy panties barely covered your wet pussy as you pushed them down your legs. He growled loudly at you when he saw them, you groaned softly. When you handled the panties to him, his eyes were as dark as a storm and you could see the outline of his dick perfectly. You gasped, he was so big, so much bigger than anyone you’d been with before. How would that feel inside of you? Would it even fit?

That day, you left feeling elated because of his reaction, a plan starting to form in your mind. You were going to be really, really bad. You spent the rest of the class rubbing your thighs together and trying not to touch yourself. You could still see the outline of his dick if you focused on his groin, and it was making you insane. You almost ran out of the class to jerk off in the bathroom.

On the fifth day, you wore your shortest skirt, the one that barely covered your ass. You walked in and waited until he gave you a once over. Your body was burning by the time he ended his staring. He arched a brow, expecting you to do what you were instructed before. You turned around and repeated the same actions as the day before, showing him your wet pussy as you bent down. He growled again and you smirked.

You handed them the black lacy panties and grinned. “Here you have them, sir.” You pronounced the last word with all your intent, being as flirty as possible as you walked away, sitting in the first row. You never did that before, you were forever a last row girly, but today you had plans. You felt his eyes lingering on your half exposed ass. The walk home was going to be a bit sketchy with that skirt, but it was worth it.

The class started and he looked at you. You smiled innocently as he started to explain about the life circle of some plant. You didn’t care, you were a girl on a mission.

When he turned around and started asking questions, you opened your legs.

The girl sitting next to you wasn’t paying any attention to your actions, but his gaze zeroed on you. You open your legs slightly more, knowing full well your big thighs must cover your pussy most of the time. But if you open them far enough… Yes. You realized the second he saw your pussy because he dropped the pen he was using to write down some stuff on the board.

And then you saw it: the outline of his monster cock noticeable against his dark pants, making you drool and do it again. You parted your legs and bit down on a pen, trying to be as slutty as possible. He coughed to cover what you guessed was a groan. He sat down and ordered everyone to write some stuff for him.

Before you left the class, he grabbed your arm and told you: “Remember we have a meeting after class, I’ll be expecting you in my office.” His tone is harsh and final, you nodded, blushing. Suddenly you feel very embarrassed about your performance in class, but your slutty side is more than happy to comply.

After all your classes, you rushed to his office and knocked softly. He opened the door before you could ask, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. He closed the door behind you and pressed your back against it. He was over you instantly, his big mouth kissing you as his tusks framed your jaw. You kissed him back with equal passion, grabbing his hair and pressing your whole body against his. You moaned against his mouth when he pulled back.

“You were a very naughty girl. And naughty girls need to be punished.” His voice had an edge of danger to it that had you panting. You nodded, eagerly. “Bend down over the desk. Now.” You had to press against him to get to it, but you complied.

“What about the papers?” You asked, trying to move them around but he grunted. He put a hand on the middle of your back and pushed down, plastering your head against the papers and pulling your skirt up at the same time. You felt the cold air against your backside and shivered.

“Such a slutty girl, offering me his panties for a pass. Showing me her wet pussy like a slut. Parting her legs for me in the middle of class.” He punctuated each one of your actions with a caress to your ass. You were panting against the papers, pushing your ass up to get him to touch you more. “You need to be punished for all of that. You were a very, very naughty girl. Such a slut.” And then his big hand made contact with your right ass cheek. You screamed and he stopped. “That won’t do. You need to be quiet.” You looked at him over your shoulder and watched as he took your panties out of his pocket. “Open.” You complied, and he shoved them in your mouth. “Good girl. I’m going to spank your little slutty ass and then fuck your pussy, do you want that?” You nodded eagerly.

He hit your ass ten times, one after the other, not letting you catch your breath before he was hitting you again. You cried out around the panties in your mouth, but you only got them wet with saliva. Tears fell from your eyes and landed on the papers on the desk, making a mess. He didn’t care about it. When he finished spanking you, your pussy was so wet you were sure it was dripping.

“Such a good girl taking the spanking she deserves. Are you on the pill?” His question took you by surprise and when you nodded again he smirked. “Good, I’m going to breed you so deeply you are going to feel me for days.” You groaned at his words. He lowered his pants enough to get his dick out. When you saw it, you whimpered. “Don’t worry, it will fit.” You weren’t so sure about it, but he was already pushing the tip against your gaping hole.

By the time he bottomed out you were breathless. His dick so big you could feel it in the back of your throat. You were spread so wide you felt like you were going to tear in two. But it felt so fucking good. His dick hit every single good point inside of you, rubbing against your G-spot and parts of your pussy you didn’t even know could feel that good. He breathed hard over you as you adapted to his size. He was being so careful with you it was a shock from the way he acted when you entered his office.

After a few minutes you started moving your hips back. He grabbed your hips and pulled back, controlled. You groaned and he chuckled, pushing into you again. The scream you let out wasn’t muffled by the panties. And then the carefulness stopped. He fucked your pussy restlessly, until you were drooling around the panties and over papers on the desk. You could feel the bruises forming on your hips, where his green hands were holding you.

He fucked you like a machine, grabbing you like a toy and fucking your body like you weren’t more than a fleshlight to him. You moaned and groaned around your gag every time he thrusted inside. The pleasure so high it was maddening. His hand went around your body and he started rubbing your clit frantically. You came less than three seconds later and he rapidly followed. His cum was scalding hot in your insides, so deep and so much of it you could feel it slipping out around his dick.

When he finished cumming, he draped himself over you and hugged you close. “You did good, you were perfect.” He took the panties out of your mouth and kissed you softly, moving your limp body until your back was on the desk and he was sitting on his chair in front of you. “Now, take out my cum and eat it.”

You pushed your torso off the table, leaning on your elbows. “Wha- what?” Did he really wanted you to do that? That felt forbidden, like a step too far, but it made you so hot to think about it...

“Finger yourself for me and eat out mixed essence like a good girl for me,” he repeated. As soon as he praised you, you were ready to do whatever he asked you to.

So you complied. “Ye- yes, sir.”

You proceeded to do exactly what he told you, slowly scooping his cum from inside you with your fingers and putting it in your mouth. You moaned at the first taste, feeling naughtier than ever, feeling like the slut he called you earlier. His eyes were focused on your pussy and it felt so good to have all his attention over you that you wanted to scream again, your pussy tingling.

“Come here.” He pulled you off the table and to a kneeling position between his legs. You looked up at him adoringly, your brain, blind with pleasure. “You are going to show me those beautiful breasts of yours and I’m going to come again over you. Then you’ll put the shirt back on and walk to your house like that. Pussy dripping cum, tits marked by me,” he growled the last part. You nodded, already taking your shirt off. “Good girl.”

He jerked his monster cock over your tits, his green fist contrasted with his red tip and darker dick. It was beautiful to see. It took him less than three minutes to be groaning over you as he painted your boobs with his release. He spread it all over your tits, pinching your nipples as he did so. You groaned, your clit pulsing again. You couldn’t understand how much his actions turned you on.

He helped you put back your shirt, and he put you over his lap. You made out for a few more minutes as you melted against him.

“Tomorrow morning I expect you to be early for class.” You arched an eyebrow at him, confused. “If you want to show me your pussy, my cum better be leaking out of it. Do you understand?” You nodded, unable to form words after such risky order. “Good.” He kissed you again before sending you home.

Anticipation filled your inside as you walked home feeling his cum drying over your tits and leaking out of your bare pussy.

You were going to get an A+ in his class.

Don’t forget you can comission me for something like this if you want.

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dragonsholygrail · 11 days ago

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You had no idea why out of all the students in your History class, your Orc Professor had chosen you to be his TA. You were nearly failing the class and weren’t sure you were really interested in the history of medieval clubs. The class was so not what you were expecting it to be about so your interest had been lost for like, a long time now. He also made you do all this super hard work like grade papers you didn’t understand. But hey, it gave you the answers sometimes so it wasn’t all bad.

Plus your professor was super freaking hot. You were positive his arms could crush you like a grape and his big squishy pecs could suffocate you. You wanted him so damn bad. So you didn’t even really mind all the icky boring work. Especially because when you didn’t get something, which was often, he’d come up behind you, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear, and help work you through it. You wondered what else he could help you work through.

So after class when your professor asks you to help bring a big pile of exams that need grading back over to his house, you of course agree to it. Being in the city, there were barely any people who actually had cars. So you weren’t surprised when your Orc Professor leads you out of the school and down to the subway, half the pile of exams in your arms.

But you were surprised about the fact that the subway car was basically full as you both walk in. Just about everybody was standing, holding onto a rail and crowding around each other. You wanted to weep. No way could you carry all these papers for the entire ride.

“Back there, an open seat!” Your Orc Professor points out, though you can’t see it. His ginormous height clearly an advantage in situations like this.

A spark of relief shoots through you at his kindness. Hot and sweet? What a combination. But when he takes the seat for himself, you raise a brow. He shifts the papers in his hands and pats one of his thick thighs.

“C’mere and sit on my lap. That way we can both relax for the ride,” he rasps, his demand sending a heat through you.

Your pussy gushes with arousal and the moment you straddle one of his thighs you can’t stop yourself from clenching down around nothing. The subway shoots forward a few seconds later and you’re pushed back into your Professor’s chest. His free hand immediately wraps around your wide waist. You try and stay deathly still, face growing red. You shouldn’t find this so fucking sexy but you can feel the heat radiating off your pussy and onto his thigh.

If there was any doubt left he could feel your heat it dissipates instantly when your Orc Professor tightens his arm around your plush waist, only to lift his leg, pressing his meaty thigh harder against your pussy. A small moan leaves you, and before you have the chance to die in horror, Orc Professor growls lowly in his chest.

A sharp gasp puffs out of you as your Professor starts bouncing his leg in time with the rapid shaking of the subway car. Each jump of his leg hitting your clit just right. You arch into it, moving in tempo and grinding down on his thigh. Every rock of your hips has waves of pleasure pulsing out from your fat soaked cunt. You can feel yourself leak onto his beige slacks and you relish in the stain that’ll be left when you stand. Leaving your own mark on him in anyway you can.

The subway car rocks, shaking roughly with its speed and it sends your body up and down his rock hard thigh. Your throat aches with the restraint of holding in your moans as you grind your clit roughly into the material that separates you from what you really want. You throw your head back, eyes glazed over in indescribable pleasure and meet his intense and lustful stare. It has your belly tightening and you grind down even harder.

“Go on and cum for me like the pretty little slut you are. Just like I know you do f’me in class,” he purrs in your ear.

Your eyes widen in shock, never realizing he had known what you were doing all those times behind your TA’s desk. How you’d watch him teach, the way his shirt would strain against his muscles, and you couldn’t help but touch yourself to the sight. You thought you were so subtle every time you came in class. Guess not.

With his permission, you explode all over his thigh, creating an even bigger mess left on his slacks. Your jaw drops and before you can make a peep your Orc Professor is crashing his mouth against yours in a sloppy kiss that only makes you cum even harder. Body shaking against his you let the waves of ecstasy sweep over you.

The ding of the subway breaks up your kiss and you look up in a daze to see the car unloading passengers who are at their stop. Orc Professor gives a directing pat to your pussy and your body jolts in his arms. He juts his chin forward.

“This is our stop. Good thing too or I would’ve had to bend you over and fuck you raw in front of everyone.”

He pulls you up off him, leaving your weak body to fend for itself. You eye the stain on his slacks with pride and stumble after him like a fawn. Glancing around you, you start to wonder what it would’ve been like if this wasn’t your stop and you feel yourself getting all turned on again. Who can blame you when you have the world’s sexiest Orc Professor?

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bunnis-monsters · 2 months ago

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Thinking about those slo-motion videos of bees entering and exiting the hives and them just casually bumping into each other all the time. So when you come in the room and the baby bees start swarming you, they're bumping into each other and falling on their little hineys but they're so used to it (and their soft fuzzy bodies handle the fall well anyways). Imagining them crowding you is cute enough but when it's "Mama, mama! *bonk* Mama! *bonk, bonk, bonk* Mama!" X'DD

WHAT that’s so cute!

Just watching your baby bees come flying in, bonking their heads on the walls and nuzzling against you, all trying to crowd around so they can kiss and snuggle with their mama!

They’re so possessive, all getting jealous of the others when it’s not their turn. They’ll fuss and stomp their little feet, ending up bumping into each other and crying!

You try your best, watching your clumsy little babies fly and toddle around. Their chubby and fuzzy bodies allow them to fall and bump into things without being harmed, but that doesn’t mean you don’t worry! They’re your babies after all, and although it’s cute to watch them bonk against each other, shake it off, then fly towards you, it still makes you coo and hold them a little tighter.

They start to notice you fawn over the ones that are a bit more clumsy, and they all start bonking and bumping into things, hitting their little heads for just a bit more attention from their mama!

Getting to nurse and receive your affections and care is all they want! They’ll suckle at your breast and look up at you with their sweet little eyes, wanting you to rock and hold them close to your chest. They just love their mama and your milk and warmth is comforting to their little souls.

Baby bees aren’t little for long, so you treasure and spoil them while you can.

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cutieeva · 3 months ago

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The Beautiful Lie

Female reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Love bombing. Self harm. Sexual Assault.

⌜ The art and the love interest (male character) belongs to the talented artist @meo-eiru and the story is inspiringly written and dedicated to @meo-eiru and the readers ! Hope you enjoy the plot that belongs to me but also helped by @meo-eiru a lot ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

(Y/N) rarely has time to offer to love, dating and such things because first : her taste in men are bad and second: she is a extremely busy person to balance her work life and personal life seperated until the most beautiful man she ever saw came surprising her with love. Or is it ?

"(Y/N), could you go to the Cutieeva mall to check out the new product's sales ?" Her female senior asked sitting from her desk.

"Of course, mam. I will be in a minute". (Y/N) agreed, saving all of her working documents before taking her handbag and left with car keys. Aurora Bloom, the brand of the cosmetic company she works, it is for now one of the top three companies to be trending in global and the best in Europe. While She works in HQ department of the company at a young age she didn't expect and living her life at ease at the rented apartment she lives quite close both to the company and her parents house who always here and there tell her to come home and when she does, it's a feast to eat of her home's comfy food and hearing thousand fictional stories from her writer father, well he wasn't a writer at first before he was a regular working manager at a company but he quit after (Y/N) outdone herself to such pristine department letting him decide to do what he likes until his last breath could be taken applying he wants no regrets to bear.

And he surprised the family by being quite a good writer himself, finding his own group of fandom invested in his writing and always support him while her mother is happy as she was being a housewife like always along being madly in love with her father who reciprocate the feelings to this day which (Y/N) finds utterly endearing yet she has no time to dwell about her love life when she has too much on her plate with her newfound career she wants to grow, as a independent woman and a person who lives her life to the fullest if overlook her empty love life.

"Yes mam, indeed people are enjoying the new shade of lipstick saying it's not only non-sticky but also long lasting highlighting their skin tones". The department store female manger explained pointing to the several women trying their new product 'the cherry blossom lipstick' either on their lips or on their palm.

(Y/N) nod, curling into a pleasant smile when her eyes caught a beautiful woman's back, wore pink shirt and tight skinny black pants with her musing long hair flowing with the breeze. "Must be pretty". She thought when she witness from her pocket a small object— foundation she recognized fell on the ground yet the woman walked away.

"She didn't noticed". On instinct almost she walked to the floor picking up the tiny box and call out. "Miss, your foundation..." She tailed off as she turn into the light, and captivated (Y/N) by the vision before her. His hair was a mesmerizing pink musing hue, with subtle waves that cascaded down his back like a rosy waterfall. The straight strands framed his face, accentuating his chiseled features, while his bangs fell effortlessly across his forehead, adding a touch of whimsical charm.

His eyes, a deep, burnished logoon color, like the warmth of a sunset on a tropical isle, sparkled with amusement as he caught her gaze. They seemed to dance with an inner light, drawing her in with an irresistible pull.

His lips, a vibrant red, curled into a gentle smile, revealing a hint of mischief, and (Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. But it was the glint of gold at his ears that added the final touch to his captivating appearance - delicate, filigree earrings that seemed to shimmer in harmony with his eyes.

(Y/N) felt like she was drowning in the depths of his gaze, and before she knew it, the words tumbled out of her mouth in a whispered gasp "You're beautiful."

The man's smile widened, and a low, husky laugh rumbled from his throat, sending shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. "Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are a funny one complimenting me beautiful after calling me a lady".

As he laughed, the golden earrings caught the light, adding a touch of whimsy to his already captivating presence. (Y/N) felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his face, her heart still racing from the impact of his beauty also sinking the fact she mistaken a man being a woman.

"I am sorry. It wasn't my intention". Honestly said, she look down, dare peeking though her lashes to flinch finding him staring at her the entire time.

"I can see that, the way it's written over your face". He chuckle moving his finger in air to the circle to her face making her palm touch her own heated cherry face.

"Ah !" She laughed nervously, unconsciously fisting on the foundation box.

"So, can I have it back ?" His hand reached out, palm up, with shiny white nails gleaming in the light, as if beckoning the object back from (Y/N)'s grasp. His fingers, slender and elegant, curled slightly, inviting her to return the coveted item. The nails, smooth and rounded, seemed to shine like tiny beacons, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze to his outstretched hand. With a gentle, yet persuasive gesture, he coaxed the foundation back into his possession, his shiny white nails glinting with quiet confidence.

"Huh ?" (Y/N)'s eyes widened, then blinked slowly, as if awakening from a spell, realizing the man had taken the foundation with effortless ease, leaving her feeling bewitched while his eyes crinkled, lips curling into a warm smile as he chuckled, clearly delighted by the woman's adorable, bewildered expression. His low, husky laugh filled the air, his gaze sparkling with amusement.

"What a adorable lady she is". His eyes roamed her body, lingering on every curve, exploring each detail, as if discovering hidden treasures. "You aren't from the department store right ?" (Y/N) blink twice.

"No".

"Oh, then you came to shop ?" He narrowed his eyes noticing her carrying a huge white handbag.

"No". She answered in short.

"Then why ?" He asked tilted his head with the notion his golden earrings swing gently.

"I am from the HQ department of the brand you are holding". Finally she smiled confidently pointing at the foundation's box printed Aurora Bloom.

"Oh !" He delightfully smile, toying with the object. "Pleasant to meet you then. He added.

"Pleasant to you t—" a melody emitted from her wrist watch widening her (E/C) eyes. "Oh god ! I need to hurry ! I am sorry but I need to go". She apologized having fun to converse with the stranger.

"No worries—" His eyes spot the missing ring finger. "—Miss ?" He tailed off insinuating her unknown name.

"(L/N) (Y/N), sir". She replied.

"Mine is Elias". (Y/N) choose not to comment at his lack of surname and nod before walking hastily. How could she forget this time's event manager is herself hosted on Tuesday, the very next day. Cursing her fate she ran.

Perfect. (Y/N) release a sigh overwhelmed by the fast yet perfect preparations she had to done within such short amount of time thankfully today would be the flawless day to showcase their skin products to their VIP guests who might be arriving any minute. The models have already came but "Has the makeup artist come yet ?" She questioned worried for the delayed time of the famous make up artist they somehow succeed in booking his seat as social media following was staggering, with millions hanging on his every post and tutorial. Celebrities clamored for his attention, and fashion icons praised his work. Sold-out masterclasses and coveted collaborations solidified his status as the most sought-after makeup artist in the industry. His name was synonymous with glamour and expertise, and his influence was simply unparalleled.

"It's alright ! The artist must be running late right ?" Soon her worries were proven right because soon after their automatic glass door opened revealing a man wore sleek black glasses, adding a touch of sophistication to his chiseled features. His French brown coat, crafted from seemly fine leather, draped elegantly across his broad shoulders, exuding luxury.

"The artist came, mam !" Her female junior announced however (Y/N) knitted her brows finding the man somehow familiar, from his blush long hair, tall statue only be still surprised finding the man remove his glasses to indeed be that beautiful man from yesterday who smile at her noting he remembered her.

"Wow ! The world indeed works in a mysterious ways". She grin shaking her head. "Welcome to the our event sir, please hurry the show begins within minutes". Adapting her professional mannerism she shaked his hand, guiding him to their backstage to appear on the front stage.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)" His lagoon eyes on her, standing behind the dark curtain to go.

"Of course, Sir Elias". She professionally smiled intriguing the man a little. "Oh ! Your turn". She stretch out her hand to the stage guide him who nod.

Wonderfully the event unfolded with seamless precision, a testament to the makeup artist's mastery. With each stroke of his brush, he transformed the models into living canvases, showcasing their company's product unparalleled quality. The VIP guests watched in awe, their faces aglow with delight, as the artist's vision came to life. As the final model face the guest revamped into a living goddess, the room erupted into applause, a joyful crescendo that wrapped the evening in a warm, golden glow. The event concluded with effortless elegance, leaving a lasting impression on all who attended including the staff and (Y/N) herself.

"He was the right choice". She giggle as her co-workers swarmed around her, beaming with pride and admiration. "Congratulations, you absolutely crushed it!" they exclaimed, patting her on the back and shaking her hand. "Your attention to detail and tireless efforts made this event truly unforgettable!"

Meanwhile, the VIP guests approached her, their faces still aglow with delight. "Thank you for an incredible experience," they said, their voices filled with genuine gratitude. "Your preparation was seamless, and every aspect of the event was meticulously executed. You truly are a master of your craft!" As the guests departed, (Y/N) waved goodbye, basking in the warmth of their praises. Her colleagues continued to congratulate her, their kind words and smiles a testament to her hard work and dedication. With a sense of pride and accomplishment, (Y/N) smiled, knowing she had truly outdone herself once again.

"You know your craft". She flinch almost screaming meeting his eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Elias. Partially it is your skills too that the reason why it was such a successful event". He smiled shrugging his shoulder.

"Okay, please have a safe drive and reach home". She wave her hand and farewell him before he parted his lips to say, remained rooted at his place, watching her figure disappearing.

"She is always hurry to leave". He mutter walking to his car.

"Hmm...this time their new lipstick looks better". (Y/N) discreetly stare at the neighboring make up store despite having much customers on her stores, she still find the new appeal of their products threatening to her company so she walked inside nodding to the welcoming female clerks.

Picking out the a box, she about to apply on her palm when a voice intrupted.

"Don't do it that way". Her eyes wide meeting his lagoon ones, smiling alike to crescent moons she compare. "Apply it in your lips directly and it will definitely have a different impact". He encouraged the doubtful woman who glided the crimson bullet across her lips, leaving a bold, velvety trail in its wake.

"Hmmm not suiting your face. Lighter". He picked out a peach shade handing her who again gliding the peach lipstick across her lips in soft, smooth strokes, as he whispered, "Let it caress your skin, like a summer breeze." As his warm breath danced across her ear, she flinched, her hand trembling with the lipstick. She turned, her gaze darting to his, their faces too close, the air thick with tension. Her eyes widened, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face, as she leaned back, her shoulders tensing. The lipstick hovered, forgotten, as she struggled to create space between them, her breath catching in her throat. His gaze held hers, intense, unyielding, making her skin prickle with unease and heart racing.

"This suits you. I will take one". Hearing his comment she cleared her throat, slowly keeping the lipstick to where it was when from the tail of her eyes she saw him choose an uneven box of peach shade. Quickly she picked the perfect box stretching to him who raised his eyebrows in question.

"I already have one". He jiggle the box but frown staring at her shaking head.

"Take this, it has perfect box unlike the uneven one". She pointed out to his surprise as a thrilled chuckle left his lips.

"Thank you". Replacing the case.

"No problem". She wave her hand as if physically waving his gratitude.

"Wanna grab drinks ?" Elias suggested out of nowhere tilting his head.

"Okay". Checking her wrist watch she still has few minutes to spare. Also she did wanted a drink and they together went to the drink store nearby ordering one white chocolate matcha for her and one caramel frappuccino for him.

Waiting for the drink they sat near a white seat opposite of each other, talking about trivial things about one another where she learnt he is a regular customer of her brand along their frequent makeup artist that's why she was able to book him easily. Soon the waitress called for their drinks and they talked, sipping their drinks and walking.

"Okay I need to leave". She decided glancing at her wrist watch missing his disappointed gaze.

"Okay. It was nice talking to you". He told.

"Me too". Happily she answered, finding herself enjoying their conversation. "I will take my leave". With a wave she left once again.

However what she didn't expected was their daily meeting at the mall department store as she stepped into the store, clipboard in hand, she was focused on her task: ensuring the department was running smoothly. But then, she saw him—a familiar face among the shelves. Their daily meetings had become a pleasant ritual, a brief respite from her HQ duties. He'd ask about her day, and she'd share stories about the office, or he'd gossip about his latest makeup news. She found herself looking forward to these encounters, feeling a sense of comfort and camaraderie with this customer. He was easy to talk to, and their conversations flowed effortlessly. As she checked the inventory, he'd chat with her, making the task more enjoyable. Their bond grew with each passing day, an unexpected connection between them she wasn't anticipating because once a mundane checking became the hightlight of her day with that weeks pass in blink of an eye. Until one day they sat in their usual white table in front of the drink shop inside the mall.

As he asked the question "Do you like me?" she felt a sudden jolt of surprise, her mind racing with a mix of emotions. Her eyes widened, and actions paused before laughter awkwardly bursting back and forth like a defensive shield.

"Yes, as a good friend!" she exclaimed, trying to brush off the tension, her tone light and playful. But in her haste to respond, she missed the subtle strain in his smile, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes but a doubt linger on her mind for him to ask such a question. Why ? Never in her mind did she view the man romantic, beautiful yes but that's a admiration unlike love, she is certain of her feelings are not alike to love.

"I like you too." His voice was calm, sincere, To her, his words were a friendly echo, a mirrored response, a confirmation of their camaraderie. She nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her, thinking the tension had dissipated, that they were back on familiar ground. (Y/N) simply smiled back, comfortable in her assumption, oblivious to the moment hung, suspended, a delicate balance of feelings, but she didn't notice, already moving on, the exchange filed away as a pleasant, friendly conversation and took her drinks however she soon has to depart this time with a hint of awkwardness.

"It's alright. Nothing is wrong". And correct to her thought the next day was normal as their conversation flowed easily, like a gentle stream. (Y/N) chatted with him, laughing and joking, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity. His question from the day before seemed like a distant memory, a minor blip in their friendly interactions. She didn't dwell on it, assuming it was just a momentary lapse, a strange anomaly in their otherwise effortless exchanges. As they talked, she felt her guard drop, her smile genuine, her heart light. Everything seemed alright again, the tension forgotten, their friendship back on track.

"Okay, see you again !" (Y/N) told glancing at her wrist watch because today she has an important delivery to approval on the said store.

"Yup ! See you again". He bid too when a message notification made her pause, worry etching her face. Her dad's request to bring the anniversary cake had just been detailed by the store's cancellation due to an emergency. Panic set in, her mind racing with consequences, her eyes darting around for a solution. Stress and concern replaced her relaxed demeanor, her fingers flying across the screen to respond to her dad's message. Elias noticing the drastic change asked and she replied elaborating her situation of how she must reach to approvel the delivery application but on the otherhand has to get the custom cake from the cake shop if not then the cake would not be handover.

"How about I went to get the cake instead of you and delivery to your parent's house. Didn't you said it is near ?" He presented the idea, smiling causing (Y/N) to halted her racing thoughts and a breath of air pass her lungs.

"Of course ! Of course !". She laughed heartily handing him the receipts and addresses before running to the delivery store to hastily complete her task and return home as soon as possible.

"Today's work was difficult". Her finger pads rub her forehead re-thinking her workload, getting out of the car and towards her parent's house caught the setting sun's beautiful view. Ringing the doorbell she waited thoughts going back to Elias. "How sweet of a person he is". A smile naturally curl to her lips and wider when the door opened by her mother.

"Happy anniversary mama !" (Y/N) embrace tightly, soaking on her familiar comfort while she returned the affections.

"Thank you dearest. Come inside, it must be hot outside". Her mother close the door behind as she let herself in, walking to the living room finding glimpse of her father sitting on the side chair and ran to embrace him from behind.

"Happy anniversary papa". She sing song, playfully kiss his hair.

"Thank you princess". His aged voice laughed, caress her hands to which she close her eyes melting into his raw love. "Also this young man is such an gentleman. Your taste in men is indeed great like your mother". She frown opening her eyes.

"What are you talking—" Her (E/C) wide, taken a back by Elias appearance sitting across her father, on the sofa and he raised his hands in mock surprise, his eyebrows arched in a playful gesture.

"Why are you—" Her words cut by her mother gentle ones.

"My heartless girl ! You left this man to fend for himself by telling him to get the cake and now you ask why is he here ? Of course I told him to grab one or two bite". The young woman nod, feeling guilty and appreciate at her mother's gesture.

"Ah— about that I am extremely sorry. It was my job to do". Elias shook his head nonchalant.

"Yet without my idea you wouldn't agree so yea, not your fault too". She glee truly pleased to find such a good friend she couldn't ask more and the anniversary celebration was a resounding success, filled with love, laughter, and warmth. As the evening unfolded, (Y/N)'s parents shared a tender moment, her father leaning in to kiss her mother softly on the lips. (Y/N) couldn't help but mockingly scrunch up her face in distaste, eliciting a hearty laugh from Elias sitting beside her. The atmosphere was light and joyful, with the sweet scent of cake wafting through the air. As they gathered around the dessert table, (Y/N)'s parents fed each other cake, their eyes locked in a loving gaze. The beautiful man joined in, playfully feeding (Y/N) a bite, his fingers brushing against hers. The room was filled with the sound of clinking forks and happy chatter, as they all savored the sweetness of the moment, and the love that surrounded them. Time stood still and they basked in the warmth of their little family's happiness, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

"Thank you very much. You helped me a lot". She showed her gratitude standing at the doorstep.

Elias shake his head "I enjoyed it so no need". Silence fill between them letting (Y/N) once again notice the lunar luminescence cascaded over the beautiful man's countenance, bathing his sculpted features in an soft, silvery radiance, as if the moon itself had bestowed a gentle caress upon his serene and peaceful face.

"Bye and good night".

"Same to you". He returned, turning his back to her and drove his car away.

From that day forward, the bond between (Y/N) and Elias blossomed into a beautiful, unbreakable connection. (Y/N) found herself opening up to Elias in ways she never thought possible, sharing with him her deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires. She began to show him pictures of her friends, promising to introduce them soon, and shared stories about her life, her passions, and her dreams. As their trust grew, they exchanged contacts, marveling at how they had gone so long without sharing such a simple yet intimate detail. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, filling their break times with laughter and delight. Elias became (Y/N)'s confidant, her partner in crime, and her guiding light. Their friendship was a symphony of joy, a harmonious blend of trust, understanding, and mutual respect. (Y/N) cherished this new connection, feeling seen, heard, and understood in ways she never thought possible. Elias had become her rock, her safe haven, and her forever friend.

"By the way, I need your help with something". This alert her entire attention to him, sipping her drink from the staw as they both stood in front of the usual drink shop at the mall.

"Yes, anything. What is it about ?" (Y/N) was ready to help him when it's his need of time.

"I need your expertise in sorting through my grandparent's old photo albums. I want to create a memory book for my family, but I'm overwhelmed". Elias avert his eyes, smiling rigidly causing her heart melt at such an thoughtful gesture.

"Aww ! That sweet of course. I am happy to help". But his expression remained uncomfortable.

"But, you need to come to my house for that". He whispered dare to stare into her (E/C) eyes.

She suck her breath knowing she never once visited his home and she gulped nevertheless she grin again because her schedule is free mostly and she wants to help "It's alright ! I am happy to go but of course if you are comfortable". She tilted her head.

"Oh !— of course I would be or why would I ask you for help".

"Likewise but why did you ask me ?" If she recalls correctly he showed her many of his influencer, normal friends.

"Because you are the only friend who is good at managing things. You know like a good event manager who knows how to put things together ?" It earned a melodious laugh from (Y/N).

"I feel appreciated".

"As you should". She giggle more along him for his compliment. Soon she found herself in his car as he drove smoothly through the city, their eyes meeting briefly in the rearview mirror. Arriving at the penthouse he lives. The towering marvel of modern architecture that seemed to touch the stars. He expertly maneuvered the car into the private parking garage, and they stepped out into the opulent lobby, surrounded by polished marble and gleaming steel. A swift elevator ride later, they entered the penthouse itself, a breathtaking expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows, chic décor, and stunning city views. Her eyes widened in wonder, feeling as though she'd entered a different world more important his personal safe of walls.

"Sit on the sofa". He pointed going to the open modern kitchen. (Y/N) felt serenity wash over her when her feet stepped onto the shiny white tiles, their cool surface calming her senses. Sinking into the plush black sofa, she felt enveloped in comfort, her eyes darting around the luxurious space in wonder. With each glance, her awe grew, her heart swelling with gratitude for this stunning sanctuary.

"Here, a juice for you and you see those dusty stacks of heavy things. I found them inside". The cold glass slid within her grip but she smiled nervously because unfortunately blinded by the luxury she often seen on the TV she failed to detect the bluntly dusty things.

"Yes". She lied now laiding her eyes.

"They are I think contains photos of my grandparents but I need help to create an entire new album". Elias shrug helplessly.

"Alright ! Let's do this then". (Y/N) full of enthusiasm knelt down, her hands reaching for the dusty photo albums that lay open on the sleek glass table, her fingers touched the worn covers, a cloud of dust swirled up, carrying with it memories of laughter and love. But with the memories came a fit of coughing, as the dust tickled her throat and lungs.

Elias being swift and attentive, appeared beside her, his movements fluid as he knelt down. He handed her a glass of crystal clear water, his eyes filled with concern. "Here, drink this," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. She sipped the water, cough subsiding only then to be aware of the proximity of their bodies, kneeling together on the floor. Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching, and their legs aligned. The closeness sent a shiver down her spine. His lagoon gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips, still moist from the water. His hand, still cradling the glass, began to move, his fingers brushing against her face.

With gentle care, Elias thumb rubbed against her lips, wiping away the droplets of water. she felt a sudden jolt of discomfort. His touch, though gentle, sent a wave of unease through her body. She tried to pull back, but his long slender hand lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of her mouth.

"(Y/N), I love you. Actually I was in love with you for a long time. Please, please accept me". Desperation whisper though his pink lips bringing their face closely and gripping her chin with his thump settle on the curve of her mouth.

"But you said you like—" Her words intruded.

"Never as a friend did I said". Elias connect their forehead. "It was you who receive it that way". (Y/N)'s eyes darted away, her gaze falling on the dusty floorboards as she struggled to process the sensation. Her heart raced, but not with excitement— rather with anxiety.

Trapped.

Betrayed.

Bothered.

She is feeling her personal space invaded by the intimate touch. The air thick with tension, the silence between them oppressive. (Y/N) longed to break free, to shatter the uncomfortable stillness that had settled over them. But her voice caught in her throat, leaving her unable to speak, unable to move, as Elias' hand remained, a gentle yet unyielding presence on her skin.

Why ? How ? When ? So many unanswered crawl inside her limited knowledge. Everything was going well, perfect yet why did it has to crash so harshly.

"Please, (Y/N) be mine. I can offer you anything you want. Riches, fame, connection, promotion. Say a word and it inside your palm". Slowly he draw their distance and (Y/N) felt utter destroyed by the wave of soft lips press against her. The kiss was harsh, demanding, and devoid of love. Her hands desperate to push him away, however his slender grip her fast, his arms wrapping around her like a vice or more like an beautiful snake wrap around his beloved prey.

Raged filled her (E/C) eyes, loathing the string of fate leading her in such advance, loathing the feel of his lips on hers, the way his tongue probed her mouth without consent. loathing the way he held her, like she was a prisoner, not a willing participant she wanted to grace her loved man her first kiss.

Finally air became a need did the beautiful man separate their interviwned lips, heat bust his pale cheeks, adoring heart pupils onto his eyes, chest heaving with newfound excitement snarling the chance she shove him, spatting words of vemon and eyes blazing with anger. "You disgust me". With that she ran and he let her.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed to a taxi, traveling to her home of trust, sobbing by the betrayal she was returned by the conditional trust she gave after reaching home towards her bathroom was a burl rather her sole focus is escaping the lingering sensation of Elias lips on hers.

Rushed to the sink, gagging at the memory of the unwelcomed kiss. She turned on the faucet, cupping her hands under the running water to splash it onto her lips. Fingers rubbed her mouth harshly to scrub away the disgust moment yet the sensation lingered, haunting her. She gagged again, her stomach churning with revulsion. (Y/N) grasped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white with tension, as she struggled to compose herself eventually her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the white floor, her body trembling with anger and disgust. She sat there, her back against the cabinet, her eyes fixed on the floor as tears of frustration and violation streamed down her face.

The bathroom, once a sanctuary, now felt like a refuge from the trauma of the forced kiss. (Y/N) sat there, surrounded by the cold, sterile tiles, trying to catch her breath, in effort to erase the memory of Elias. The man she thought was her cherished partner, a delightful friend. Where ? Where did it all went wrong ? Where was the wrong step or word she utter to lead such devastating ending or was his whole persona was a facade. A spider wed to trap a butterfly like her and she was a naive little thing to walk right on it.

As the night's veil lifted, the sun rose, casting its warm rays upon the world. The golden light crept over the horizon, banishing the shadows and illuminating the landscape. The rays peeked through the curtains, gently coaxing (Y/N) out of her dark reverie.

Her eyes sunken and dark from the sleepless night, slowly opened alike two heavy doors creaking on their hinges. The golden light danced across her face, highlighting the purple circles that had formed under her eyes. The horror of the previous night's experience still lingered, etched on her face like a shadow.

(Y/N) blinked, her gaze unfocused, as the light pierced through her brain, reminding her of the traumatic events that had unfolded. She winced, mind recoiling from the memory. The usual ray of sun, a symbol of hope and renewal, now seemed like a harsh reminder of the darkness she had endured. She sat up, her body droop heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion and emotional turmoil. The golden light continued to pour in, illuminating the room, however (Y/N) felt not a hint of warmth, not of comfort. Only a sense of dread, a fear of what the new day might bring.

Disturbed by her numb thoughts she called her senior announcing her day off slipping the lie of being sick before declining and about to drift into sleep.

DING ! Her doorbell ring. She ignored. Again. Again. Again. Again and again following with a "(Y/N) ! This is me, your mother and father". Irritated she drag her feet to the front door, opening to reveal her aged parents.

"(Y/N)— what happen sweetie ?" Worry weight her words, touching her daughter's check when she flinch unconsciously frightening both her parents and herself.

"Come inside". Heavy her voice sounded, closing the door and sitting on the chair while they together on the sofa.

The air was heavy, thick with tension. Silence was oppressive, suffocating. The atmosphere was dense, like a knife could cut through it. Slicing through the strained quiet like a razor-sharp blade through velvet. Every breath felt like a struggle, every movement a battle against the crushing gravity of the moment.

"Darling, did you fought with your boyfriend ?" Bravely her mother finally questioned raising her eyebrows.

"Boyfriend ? Fight ?" Her voice trembled.

"Or". The old woman grasp. "Did you break up". Her husband rest his palm on her shoulder while (Y/N) confuse more by their words.

"Boyfriend ? Break up ? What are you talking about ? I do not have a boyfriend to begin with so how can I fight or break up with him ?" Frustration she shake her head as if physically shoving their creative imagination.

"Honey, it's alright. You don't have to hide from us. We understand you wanted to keep it a secret but he told us and we accept him as your boyfriend". Her mother calmly smiled providing a sense of comfort yet all she felt was suffocation and more confusion.

"Okay, at first I was sceptical. He looked flashy, an playboy however he is actually a child at heart, a very good one and is always eager to help". This time her father spoke lacing with a fondness she didn't expect him to talk about someone.

"What is wrong with you ! I never had a boyfriend in my life". She scream her lungs out yet her mother clap her hands on her mouth and her father pressed his lips thin.

"We know Elias is your boyfriend. (Y/N), don't be afraid. We are your parents". Then why ? Then why she doesn't feel the warmth from her parents as if they are distant people wearing familiar faces because the words spoken from their lips doesn't make sense.

"He was never my boyfriend ! Who ever told you that ? Don't assume things on your own". Frustration leaking though her voice, eyes narrowed in a glare and lips in disdain from stress.

"He told us himself. Elias told us when he delivery the cake ! Now don't tell me he was lying". Her father sigh stunned to see her daughter's rebellious side at such age.

"W-what ?" She stutter suddenly the world blurred, the walls melt away like a watercolor painting. The room zoomed out, leaving her suspended in a sea of uncertainty. Furniture and decorations receded into the distance, and she felt like she was floating, disconnected from reality. Their voices turn to distant echoes, thoughts a jumbled mess, as shock wrapped around her like a shroud.

"Why would he be my boyfriend ?"

"Why are you asking us ? You are the one in relationship and you are the one to hid it if not for the good man". Enough. The last straw of her held anger cut.

"G-G-Good man ? Good man ? Good fucking man ! You are calling a man who—who—" Words trailed off, lost in the abyss of her own horror, as she struggled to articulate the vile truth. "A-and that good man—" Despite her effectors the sentences remained unfinished, a haunting echo of her own trauma leaving her succumbed to the darkness of her memories.

"(Y/N)". Her mother's brows quiver and her hand touch hers. "I understand". A sense of relief came to her. Her mother understood, understood her assault by the vile, vile man. "I understand couple fight. They fight a lot and dirty but in the end they fight to be better, to be more loving, setting differences aside fight is normal as long as the couple love each other. You going through a rough patch with Elias is normal. He is a good man, believe your mother's judgment". Her words burn a slap on her cheek and her words were salt on (Y/N)'s wound.

"How dare you !" Her voice shattered the air, a raw, anguished with tears rolling down her cheeks. "How dare you labeled a man who forcefully kiss me ! Get out". Standing up, her eyes close feeling her throat constricted, dry and tight, as shame crept in like a thief, stealing her breath and dignity.

"Oh my (Y/N), couples fights are normal so is kissing. He must have meant it to calm you—"

"So he forced himself on me ?"

"He must not had meant to make you—". Her eyes wide in horror watching their impassive expressions oblivious to her distress she felt a stranger rather than daughter sharing a space now. Their faces blur by her teary vision. They are not her parents. They are strangers. They are not her parents if they slide with a stranger who not only forced himself on her but also lied.

"Get out". She commonded raw, loud and clear walking to her bedroom running from the suffocated, unbreathable small space. Her eyes watched her parents walked away, their figures fading into the distance. She felt a complex layers of emotions and when they turned their heads, she quickly shut the curtains, blocking out the sight of their faces. Her strength couldn't bear to look at them, couldn't bear to see their nonchalant expressions.

Turning away from the window and sat down on her bed, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone. She needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Her fingers dialed the familiar number of her best friend, the one person she knew would listen without judgment. The phone rang, (Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She was ready to unleash all her emotions, to share the pain and confusion that had been building up inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing to pour out her heart to her friend, the only one who could offer her the comfort and support she desperately needed.

"Hello (Y/N) ! How do you do ?" Her ray of light spoke.

"Emily. I-I-I want to talk to you about something".

"Sure, anything (Y/N) ! Aren't I your best friend". Lighthearted giggles on the otherhand comfort her ears.

"The thing is, remember Elias ?"

"Oh ! What about him ? The hottie". A bitter taste left her lips hearing her sound so oblivious yet she understand it's not her fault.

"Well, yes. He yesterday forced himself on me". Silent was the line for a second before a loud screeching noise came.

"What ? That's messed up !" Her firm and resolute voice felt a weight lift from (Y/N)'s heart, a sense of validation wash over her. She was no longer alone in her outrage and hurt. Emily's words were a balm to her soul, soothing her raw emotions. Feeling seen, heard, and believed.

"I knew it you woul—"

"But you see we have to also must see his point of view. He must had done that in desperation to be more than friends with benefits with you. I know normally friends with benefits should know their limits but he is a kind, pure and perfect man for you". As fast as the ray of light came, that vanished in front of her soaking her in cold reality, numbing her heart. Icy truth seeped in, crushing her soul.

"W-what are you talking about Emily ? I never had that kind of relationship with him !! Didn't I told you ?" More tears cover the dry ones, confusion lay on her mind to wonder how each important person to her is on his side.

"Gosh ! (Y/N) forgive me actually Elias told me about your relationship. He was even ashamed to admit it at first before whole heartedly declare his romantic feelings for you that even I was touched". Lies. Lies and lies. Gritted her teeth she decline the call, throwing it on her bed.

Madly her lips parted to scream. Ha ! What a wicked man he is, feeding lies to her loved ones, snatching them away from her and all in an blink of eye and right under her nose. How idiot was she to not notice ? How ? How ? How ? Rage pump on her veins and emotions controlled her rationality.

Swifty she call his number, clenching her fist. "Hello darling, I was waiting for your call". His sickly sweet voice came from the other line.

"Stop this you fucking bastard ! Stop these mind games ! Stop the lies". (Y/N) glare at him though phone.

"Ouch ! Calling my love lies, games hurt more than I expected. I guess this is the power of loving someone. Huh ?" His laughter was like a taunting to her, racing her pulses.

"I will kill you !" She threaten.

"Oh how lovely it is to have your hand on me as I take my last breath". She throw the phone across her bed in disgust and helpless not aware he is driving to her house. Finally obtained the moment he was so patiently awaited. The time to have her vulnerable and alone.

Wasn't she sound so cute right now ? He bite his lips betting she looks more adorable.

Spoiled. Growing up he was spoiled by everyone, every meeting face from his childhood, once they look at his face, they drastically change their behaviors, showering him with free gifts, praises and all, regardless of old or young. He was the beloved of their hearts, the king ruling their minds. Thus, growing up being spoiled wasn't new for him, the admiration stares mixing with some disband doesn't affect him why ? Because that means they are jealous of him. Ha ! Who wouldn't, he didn't view his arrogance as bad, he simply believe it as his confidence nothing more, nothing less after all all women confess to him one after another non-stop yet never did he loved any. Until that fateful day he went to the shopping mall of department store meeting that adorable woman, all red, blushly for him. It amused him to end, what a pleasant play toy to enjoy for sometimes however the drastic change due to her professionalism was a behold see.

She was nothing like the woman he saw that day. He almost tricked into thinking she forget him.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)"

"Of course, Sir Elias".

Good, she didn't forget him. She simply wanted to act professional. How fun. He enjoyed nailling his usual performance that for some reasons always got him claps, praises when in reality he just does it naturally because he has nothing else to do. Unlike other people investing in their hobby, he has nothing. Perhaps because of that he is used to being pampered, loved and given anything he wish.

However why ? Why once again like yesterday after the event end did she not stay to convey meaningless string of words like others ? Always running away like an lamb catching sight of an wolf. Boring. Elias care not to pay attention to her after all many have dislike him but thousands who love him. The next day encountering her again was a pure game of fates but after noting her little consider habits did he realize she loves him.

Because if she doesn't, who will notice the uneven box of lipstick replacing with the perfect one ? If she doesn't, why she glance at him so many times ? Often smiling and appearing cheerful ? If she doesn't, why she always remembers his drink from the one time he ordered ? And so much more.

She must love him. Right ? Oh ! Oh ! How naive he was to not realize her blunt feelings for him. It's okay he has fallen for her too. Yes, Elias, the man who usual pampered has this sudden desire to pamper his beloved, watching her daily or even seen a glimpse of her flutter his heart like never did before. Their accidental brushes of fingers and shoulders sent him jolts of delight. Once seen her beautiful face could his lips curve to smile itself.

It's okay he will wait. Wait for her to confess and him accept. One week pass, two week pass. Maybe she is playing hard to get. Understandable she must be waiting for the perfect moment to confess that must mean he has to appear perfect right ? Daily he spent hours in front of mirror selecting the perfect outfit, smoothly care his hair, highlight his beautiful face. First it was only limited to changing outfits to style his hair daily to cut his hair in more desirable way to only repeat the routine. Each passing day he is refining himself then why ? Why ? Why didn't she even compliment him ? Let alone confess to him already ? He dolled himself up almost—no surely daily yet what is she so timid about. Til he realize —actually she isn't timid at all.

Rather she is not in love with him. How he got to know ? Because he was hastily ran to the mall, very giggy to meet the heart of his life when his breath stuck in his throat. In front of him a scene of (Y/N) tying a middle aged man's tie that came untie and she welcome him warmly in return of his thanks before talking warmly to the staffs asking if any needs they wishes to have, even helping a woman who's having trouble wearing lipstick and non-judgmentally explaining their products to others.

She is actually not in love with him. She is just nice. As if the gods played a ridicule game to him still his hatred was directed to the gods not her. How could he blame her ? She was a naive little thing. Sooner of later she will come to love him. That's why one day he asked her.

"Do you like me ?"

"Yes, As a good friend !" What a dishearten words.

"I like you too." In a romantic way were the words he choose to not speak. It's okay, if she doesn't like him now she will in the future. All she needs is time. He has to nurture, sewed and take time to built the love or else how it would be possible. First he has to make her alone. Alone to reply on him. And only him.

And the gods were at his side to grace him with the opportunity on golden plate he was used to. Using the excuse to delivery the cake to her parents house was the first step to isolate her. So he did what he was naturally gifted at, winning hearts regardless of age. Quickly they were head over hell, swooning at his lies about their secret relationship and more lies about their wish to keep it a secret as she want to disclose it on her own term. Fools, her parents were and naive his (Y/N) was moving closer to him. Showing him pictures of her friends, spewing all of her work related words and he silently memorize her password so when she went to use restroom or busy checking her tasks, he smartly save all of her contacts.

Charming her friends, dancing them at his rhythm against her, saying they are friends with benefits where he was unfortunate to fall in love and finally he invited (Y/N) home and confess his passionate love.

"You disgust me".

Well, didn't it end badly ? It's alright she will come crawling to him. Right inside his embrace all willingly. Elias will be the bigger person in here, forgiving her amuture mistakes because he loves her.

Ring ! Ring ! Elias stand in front of his beloved house, ringing the doorbell. The finale came and his patient broke all lose. This is the moment she has to be his and he hers.

"Mom, Dad ! I told you—" Her breath hitched and instinctively tried to slam the door shut, but he was too swift, too potent. His hand darted out, arresting the door's momentum with a firm yet gentle touch, and he stepped across the threshold with a fluid motion. The door creaked in defeat, surrendering to his quiet strength. (Y/N) retreated, her heart racing like a wild animal, as Elias's eyes seemed to delve into her very essence. His presence was a palpable force, filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity. With a subtle click, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the doorknob as his gaze continued to hold hers captive.

"What's the hurry hmm ?" The gentle smile contrast to the violent actions was ironic. Unfazed he step forward. She step back.

He advanced, his footsteps deliberate and purposeful and (Y/N) retreated, her own steps faltering in a desperate bid for distance.

With each step he took forward, she mirrored with a hesitant step back, her eyes fixed on his, her breath caught in her throat.

"What are you doing here ?" Alarm danger ringing inside her entire body, sending mix signals to her flight, fight or freeze mode. All she felt being hovered by him was fear, no longer the anger fuming her veins.

"Just here to visit my darling". In sing song manner he told, walking until his wild cat cornered. (Y/N) feeling the wooden wall of her kitchen immediately run away near the stairs.

"Just stay there—". Her words cut off.

"Do you love me ?" Using the same honeyed coated voice he asked.

"I will call the police Elias !" She threatened

"Do you love me ?" He bore his lagoon eyes into her (E/C) ones.

"Please stay away".

"If you answer. Do you love me".

"No. I don't". She spat, bewilded by the fact he would wish for her to love him even after the twisted games he played with her.

"Then will you love me ?" Her face contorted in mix of anxiety and exasperation.

"No". Nodding calmly to her denial he picked the nearby kitchen knife scarying her further.

"No. No. No. No. No. Elias ! Please don't do this—"

"I must or else you won't be mine". Saying she was ready to sprint for her survival however he pressed the knife to his throat, tears streaming down his face like rivulets of sorrow, his eyes pleading for her. "Please be mine or I will kill myself". He gaze fondly at her widen ones.

"You are crazy". She whispered not expected such move.

"Yes, I am for you". A sly, mirthless grin spread across Elias's face, his lips curling upward in a macabre smile. "So will you love me ?"

Tears swelled in her eyes, fear and despair mingling watching his steady hand inch the sharp blade closer.

"No wait !"

"Then say do you love me ?" He whisper alike to the sweet nothings hushes. "Because without you why must I stay alive". He added.

"Okay okay I will say it". She doesn't know. She doesn't know why she says it because a twisted sense of desperation clawed at her chest, a morbid longing to preserve the life of the one she loathed, as if his existence was inextricably linked to her own.

"I l-l-lo— I can't". In despair she collapse unable to bear so many complicated emotions and nightmares at the same time in her seemly simple life. Footsteps echoed the silent room as his shoes came to her view and he bend to her level, throwing the knife and cupping her chin like she was a delicate flower despite plucking her roots and held her.

"It's all right you will learn to love me". A happy smile curve his alluring lips that press against hers. This time the is gentle, caressing and lovely as if petals of love is pouring out of his lips silently conveying his words. Slipping his tongue in hers, he trapped her tongue savoring her divine flovours he was thirsty to drink again. Sucking mouthful of air he kiss more, not letting their lips separated for a moment and close his eyes drowning under the moment while she close her eyes motionlessly stilled, letting him do as he please selling herself to him with the price of forever.

As oxygen grew scarce, he parted their lips grinning ear to ear, leaning his forehead to hers.

"This is a lie. All of these are lies you said to others". She utter hopelessly.

"Then let's make it a reality". He suggested however brows frown watching her shake her head.

"Can't. Too much lies to forget".

Chuckly raspy, he kiss once more saying. "Then let's make it the beautiful lie".

FIN

⌜ Once again thank you @meo-eiru for letting me use your wonderful male character Elias and your permission to write this story along thank you readers for reading the story. Hope you enjoy it ⌟

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teratosfavouritesnack · 2 months ago

Text

"Ishtà-kurme"

husband!orc x chubby!fem!human x husband's sons - orcish mating traditions, your first time with your husband, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, loads of cum, cum eating, family bonding (let's call it like that lol), soft doms, your husband's sons' very first time (just to be very clear, there's NO INCEST here, his sons are not yours), slight language barrier, romantic fluff <3

Your husband needs you to take part in his sons' rite of passage to adulthood.

+12 k.

The long fabrics of your dress brush against the smooth stones on the ground as you walk at a brisk pace towards Mauhul - your Mau. You can feel butterflies stir in your belly, your heart racing in anticipation at the prospect of making love for the first time with your beloved husband.

When he called for you, requesting your presence in his chambers, you felt it in your bones; you would finally consummate your marriage and start your new life together. You’re not sure why it didn’t happen on your wedding night, nobody even mentioned the matter before or during the ceremony. After the festivities, you and Mauhul had simply parted, retiring to your own separate quarters for the night. And you did so for the following nights as well, after spending a lot of time together, snuggling in the sunlight. You had concluded that perhaps the orcs didn’t follow the same customs of your people and so you had tried to not give it too much importance. Sooner or later you would be intimate, that much is certain, and so you went on with your life, hanging out with your husband, deepening your bond, while waiting patiently for that special moment to arrive.

And you think that moment could very well be upon you.

Your hand shakes a little as you push the door to his chambers open. You pictured this moment in your mind so many times: your tall, buff orc lying on his bed, already fully undressed, waiting for you to join him, beckoning you over with an inviting grin on his lips…

The scene you’re presented with, however, is quite different. Your husband stands by the crackling fire, half-naked, in the company of his two sons… who are also half-naked. Loincloths made of animals pelts cover their modesty, leaving the rest fully exposed. Their mighty builds, broad shoulders, massive chests, thick arms and thighs are all in full view, making your eyes widen even further and your now tensed hand linger on the steady surface of the wooden door. Your stunned stare darts from one orc to the next, until it lands on your husband with a silent questioning look.

Mauhul's black eyes instantly light up as they meet your gaze, watching you as you hesitantly stand by the doorway. The chief orc smiles and steps away from the fire to welcome you.

"Ah, my love, come in," he says, extending his hand. His sons, Tarek and Moth - spitting images of their father - watch you as you approach, their dark eyes flitting between you and their parent with a mix of curiosity and something else that you can't quite decipher.

There's some tension in the air that makes you nervous. His sons' presence in his chambers cannot be left to chance. You can sense there's a reason they're here and for you to be here as well, with them.

"We were just discussing something important," your husband says. His movements are fluid despite his immense bulk as he walks towards you.

You try to mask your apprehension as you step closer until you're standing right in front of him. He’s so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes.

"W-What… about?" you ask him hesitantly, voice trembling slightly. Your hands fiddle with the drapes of your long dress, the fine fabric creasing under the pressure of your nervous pinches.

"Their coming of age.” His answer is simple, though it makes you uneasy.

Mauhul watches you closely. He senses your discomfort and can see the slight tremors that run through your hands as you toy with the fabric of your dress. His large, calloused hand reaches out to cover yours, stilling your fidgeting. His touch is tender, a stark contrast to his intimidating size and looks.

"Their coming of age?" you repeat, the words heavy on your tongue. Your eyes dart to his sons, who seem to be watching you and their father with bated breath.

"This is a significant rite of passage for them," he states, his voice soft and soothing. "They've grown strong and capable. And I, as their father, must ensure they realize the importance of the role that they're about to hold in the clan," Mauhul adds, his fingers trailing down your arm and raising goosebumps across your skin.

You swallow and blink up at him, puzzled. You're not sure what the implications of his words are or how you fit into this scenario, but you can feel the tension in the room getting heavier and heavier by the second.

Mauhul's free hand goes to rest gently on your chin, tilting it upward so you focus on his eyes, his gaze intense and almost primal.

"And as they approach adulthood, there are certain... traditions that must be observed," he says, his fingertips slowly tracing the line of your jaw, leaving tingles in their wake.

You shudder under his delicate touch, his words making your stomach turn. Your body seems to be catching up on the undertone of this conversation long before your mind.

"W-What sort of traditions?" You inquire cautiously, unsure whether or not you genuinely wish to know.

Mauhul's nostrils flare slightly as he inhales deeply, taking in your scent - a blend of fear, excitement, and innocence that only adds to his yearning.

"There are rituals that mark an orc's transition from young to adult," he says, his voice dropping to a rumble. "Rituals that involve you, my lovely wife. Tonight, you'll be their partner in this rite."

You blink, your eyes widening and flitting to the young orcs before returning upon him. You gaze into your husband's kind eyes, hoping to find some answers into the depths of his dark pools to the myriad of questions spinning inside your mind.

"I..." you stutter, your stomach churning. "I'm afraid I don't u-understand..."

Or perhaps you’re choosing not to understand. The more you think about it, the stranger it all sounds. What kind of partner would he require for his sons' transition from orclings to adults? How could you possibly assist them?

Your breath hitches, your brows furrows. Surely, he doesn't mean...

Your gaze darts back and forth between him and his sons as you subconsciously back away, your mind finally catching up to what has been left unsaid.

"Mau..."

Mauhul's smile fades slightly as he senses your anxiety. He steps forward again, closing the distance between you two, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin, making you look back up at him.

"My love," he murmurs, his voice softening slightly, "This is an important rite for my sons to go through. And you... you have an important part to play in it."

His other hand comes to rest at your hip, gently pulling you closer. "Do you trust me, kisee ?"

Your wide-eyed stare searches his face, with a trace of panic in it. You swallow again, attempting to soothe the furious hammering of your heart, but with little success. The prospect of taking part in such a rite causes your body to oscillate between uneasiness and wicked trepidation.

Of course you trust your Mau, but you're confused by what's being asked of you. You also can't help but think of your unconsummated marriage. If what you assume this rite is about is actually true, does that imply you will be intimate with his sons prior to your own husband? This notion doesn't sit well with you.

"But, Mau... W-what about us? We haven't..." Your voice trails off as you frown up at him.

A faint smile flickers across Mauhul's lips as he watches the plethora of emotions dance across your face. He can see the panic in your eyes, the trepidation, the confusion, and the trust you have in him... all mixed in a beautiful, confusing whirlwind. He leans down, brushing his lips against your ear, his breath warm and soft against your skin.

"I know, mìzaah ," he murmurs, his hand at your hip pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours, "But that will change tonight. I will claim you as my wife, completely, and my sons will be here to witness it."

You gasp sharply at his words, your body instantly warming up. Your hands reach up to tug at his long braid, your wide eyes meeting his again. Now you understand. He has been delaying your intimate union precisely for this moment, precisely for this rite.

You glance back at his sons, looking at the young orcs as if you're seeing them now for the first time. You haven't had time to build a closer connection with them yet, they're almost strangers to you and the mere idea of letting them witness your lovemaking sends your body into a frenzy.

"Will they only... watch... or...?" You express your concerns, dropping your voice so that only your spouse can hear.

Mauhul smirks, clearly aware of your body's reaction to his words and touch. He draws you in closer, his hand on your hip going around your waist and pulling you flush against him. He glances down into your eyes, his gaze glazed over with desire.

"They will watch," he declares, stooping down to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning your skin. "They'll watch as you become entirely mine. Learn from it. And then... join in."

You breathe in sharply once you hear him confirm your worries.

Your fingers dig into his braid, lightly tugging on it. Your wide eyes lock onto his face again, boring deep into his own, seeking confirmation, reassurance... guidance.

His intense but reassuring gaze is fixed on yours, ensuring that intense connection you've become so addicted to.

"Trust me, my love," he murmurs with a deep rumble. "I will guide you through it. You have nothing to fear. And I'll be the one to claim you first. My sons will learn from me... and then they will learn from you, as you please them as well."

His sinful words send chills down your spine as they snake their way through your mind, bringing to life vivid images of the scenario they depict. However, the shivering rapidly gives way to a warmth that pools between your thighs. You can't deny the growing dampness there, or how your nipples harden against the silky fabric of your dress.

Your heart stutters, your body trembles, and your doe eyes gaze straight into his as the words leave your lips in a shaky whisper.

"If this is what you request of me, husband..."

Mauhul nods, his smile broadening, his eyes filled with possessive pride, delighted by your trust and devotion, moved by your willingness to please.

"It is, my love," he replies, lifting his hand to cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "I would never ask this of you unless it was of the utmost importance to our tribe."

He bends down and gently captures your lips in his, his hand on your hip pulling you closer. The tender but meaningful kiss has you melting on the spot and your mind spinning, your lips chasing his even as he moves away.

"You'd honour me... and my sons with your willing participation."

Your gaze lingers on his lips, filled with increasing yearning. Your hand relaxes its grip on his hair, traveling up his torso to rest on his tattoo-covered chest.

"I'll be honored to take part in your tradition," you say softly, your eyes meeting again. "And help your sons in their coming of age."

The sight of your small palm on his chest, your eyes glazed with need, sends a rush of primal satisfaction through Mauhul's veins. His massive hand goes from your face down your neck, tracing the curve of your shoulder before resting on your lower back and pulling you close against his strong body.

"You are... perfect, mìzaah ," he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble, filled with desire and admiration. "Your trust and willingness please me greatly. And my sons... they will be grateful to you as well. They will know what it means to honour a woman... to worship a woman as she should be worshipped."

His remarks, praises, and probing hands make your body tingle, and your cheeks flush crimson with heat. A soft hum escapes your lips as your hand glides from his chest to his cheek, stroking it lovingly.

Mauhul closes his eyes for a moment, savouring the gentle gesture. When he reopens them, they are filled with a burning longing. His hand on your back squeezes, bringing you closer.

"We shall begin the ritual, then," he announces, his voice thick with lust.

He glances over his shoulder to his offspring, who are still standing by the fire, observing the two of you with ardent looks. "Come closer, sons."

Your gaze shifts to the two young orcs as he urges them closer. Your eyes rake over their forms, taking them in. It's equally odd and comforting that they resemble their father so much... Although, given your understanding of what is about to occur and their role in it, you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the sight of them.

As the lads approach, their steps slow but deliberate, Mauhul returns his gaze to you, his hand firmly spread across your hip. Your stomach flips under his possessive touch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your belly from above the fabrics of your dress.

"Kneel, boys." he gruffly instructs.

You watch in amazement and awe as they drop obediently at your feet. Their gazes are keen and fascinated as they take in your smaller stature while towering over your frame even as they stand on their knees.

Mauhul instead moves to stand tall behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist, possessively holding you close while his free hand traces idle patterns along the curve of your thigh. Seeing you marvel at his sons then look up at him expectantly, uncertainty clear in your expressive eyes, he gives you a reassuring nod and a warm, indulgent smile. His eyes glow with pride and affection for you. You're such a delicate creature compared to his burly sons, to his burly self as well, yet here you are, ready to undertake this crucial task for his family.

"This is their chance to admire you properly," he explains quietly, leaning down to murmur in your ear, "to appreciate the beauty and delicacy of the female form... before they learn to ravish and conquer it."

His large hand trails lightly up your side, brushing the outer swell of your breast before cupping the back of your neck in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive. He draws your head back so you can meet his piercing black gaze without straining your neck.

"They must show proper respect first and look upon you..." his gravelly voice drops to a conspiratorial purr, "...upon your pure unveiled beauty.”

You shiver at his purr and look up at your husband as if mesmerized. Your lips part but do not form words. You simply nod your head in consent, ready - as if you could ever be ready for something like this - to do whatever he asks of you. Your body suddenly grows too hot under the fabric of your dress.

With a satisfied grunt, Mauhul allows himself a moment to admire how beautifully you submit yourself to the situation - your eagerness to please him evident in every trembling breath and flustered blush painting your delicate features. Then, with a firm but gentle tug, he begins to untie the laces at the back of your gown, his fingers deftly working the knots of your bodice loose.

"Mmh. You wore your best dress for this, kisee …" he murmurs appreciatively, his breath warm against your skin as he exposes more of your delicate flesh inch by tantalizing inch.

"Oh..." a soft gasp escapes your lips at his praise. You did choose this dress in the hopes he would take his time peeling it off of you. Your eyes flicker to your bodice coming undone and pooling at your wide hips. A red shade dusts your cheeks as you briefly glance at the two orcs kneeling before you, noting how hungrily they are drinking in the newly exposed sight, before you bashfully avert your gaze and bite down on your lip.

Mauhul chuckles deeply, amused by your modest reaction despite the situation. His rough hand slides up from your thigh to rest on the bulge of your soft belly, pressing your body closer to his towering form.

“You've got nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures you in a rumbling tone, tracing the edge of the fabric that now clings loosely to your curves. “They are honoured to witness such beauty.

“And so am I.”

With a final yank, Mauhul pulls the gown completely off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. You stand now before him, clad only in a simple linen shift that does little to hide the enticing curves of your body. Your breasts strain against the thin fabric, nipples hardening in the humid air of the hut.

His sons' hungry gazes drink in every detail of your exposed form, their breathing growing heavier as they marvel at the contrast of your delicate features and petite frame against the robust, muscular build of their father, standing behind you like a looming shadow.

Your instincts urge you to press your thighs together and lean back against your husband's chest, as if seeking shelter. You refrain however from draping your arms across your torso to conceal your obvious arousal, visible even from beneath the linen shift. You keep your gaze away, a bashful look engraved on your face, yet you still try to catch his boys' gazes, ashamed albeit curious about their reactions. It's strange; deep down, you actually want his sons to like you so as to please your husband, to make him proud.

“You needn't be coy with them, my love” he purrs, grazing his tusks along the sensitive skin of your throat. “They hunger for you, just as I do.”

Turning your face toward his, Mauhul captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue and staking his claim for all to see. When he finally breaks away, he looks down at your flushed face with satisfaction, noting how dazedly you meet his heated gaze.

“You please me greatly,” he whispers, his hands trailing up your arms, his calloused fingers gently peeling the strands of your shift down the curve of your shoulders. “And you’re about to please me even more.”

You feel a rush of satisfaction as you hear the praise. Your hooded eyes are fixed on his dark, mesmerizing pools. A soft, fond smile blooms on your lips as you keep staring up at your spouse, as if he is the beacon you follow, while he undresses you entirely.

As the last threads of fabric fall away, exposing your full form to his hungry gaze, Mauhul lets out a low, approving rumble. The sight of your delicate skin bathed in firelight is enough to stir the beast within. His sons' eyes widen in unison, relishing the sight of your creamy, supple curves.

“Beautiful…”, he mutters reverently, his gaze roving over every inch of your exposed flesh. From the swell of your breasts, down to the soft narrowness of your waist, to the roundness of your hips and thighs – each part molded with flawless generosity.

Mauhul reaches around to cup one of your breasts, his calloused palm enveloping the soft mound. He thumbs your hardened nipple, eliciting a startled moan from your parted lips.

“And so responsive too,” he praises, his voice dripping with adoration. “Such a treasure to behold and claim.”

His sons watch, transfixed, as Mauhul continues to fondle and tease your sensitive breasts.

Your body arches against his under his eager touch. Soft moans leave your lips in appreciation, your skin tingling all over and rising with goosebumps. Your thighs squeeze together again, this time to create friction for the ever-growing ache in your core. This is the first time your husband touches you in such an intimate way and you're already lost in the pleasure his warm, rough palm brings you. You almost forget his sons are watching and are soon to witness their father claim you as his.

Feeling your thighs clamp together, Mauhul chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest and against your ear. His grip on your breast tightens, squeezing the soft flesh firmly as he watches you react.

“So impatient, aren't we?” he teases, pinching your nipple harder, drawing another sweet moan from your plump lips. “But we mustn't rush things, my love. This will be a long night.” his growl vibrates against your skin. “I will savour you and make sure you remember this night for the rest of your days. Just as my sons and I will.”

His free hand moves lower, skimming across your soft stomach until it finds its way to the moist heat between your thighs. As his fingers delve into your slick folds, he finds your swollen clit, circling it slowly.

The moment his thick fingers meet your nub, your breath hitches sharply and your whole body jolts in pleasure, knees buckling under your weight. Your head falls back against his broad chest and your eyes flutter closed.

A guttural groan escapes Mauhul as he feels how wet you are already. His thumb rubs your clit faster, coaxing more sounds of delight from your quivering lips. His other hand squeezes and kneads your breast, tweaking the nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger. With your back pressed against his front, Mauhul can easily feel every little response to his touch. Your walls clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them. He groans deeply, feeling his own desire spike at the thought of taking you, finally claiming what’s his.

“See? Such a responsive little thing you are”, he murmurs into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive lobe. “You were made for me, weren't you?”

He continues to circle your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm. His other hand leaves your breast, tracing down your side before gripping onto your thigh firmly and lifting it, stretching your cunt. In this position, his touch feels even more intense, the thrills of pleasure coursing through your body are even sharper.

His sons watch, enraptured, as Mauhul's large fingers work magic on your quivering flesh.

With practised ease, he begins to rub faster, applying pressure that sends shockwaves of delight through your body. Your cries fill the air, mingling with the crackling fire and his son's heavy breathing.

"Oh, Mau-!" you whimper, writhing against his chest, hips seeking and at the same time trying to evade his greedy fingers.

Hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips only fuels Mauhul's desire further. His movements become more purposeful, and relentless. He presses two thick digits inside your slick warmth, relishing the way you cling to him.

“You like that, do you?” he asks gruffly, curling his fingers upwards to stroke against your innermost walls.

The boys continue to watch in reverent silence, their eyes wide with fascination and barely concealed lust. Seeing their father take you so eagerly only serves to inflame their own arousal. Their erections already strain painfully against their loincloths, yearning for release.

Mauhul adds another finger, stretching your tight pussy even wider. Each thrust sends ripples of pleasure through both him and you.

You writhe against his firm body, your walls throbbing around his thick fingers stretching you out. Your hooded eyes look up, searching his gaze as you pant heavily. You can feel a hot pleasure coil in your lower belly, and your legs twitching more and more as the climax gets closer. The squelching sound his fingers produce by pumping in and out of your wet cunt drowns out every other noise.

Mauhul's eyes burn with primal hunger as he watches you lose yourself to the sensations he's creating. Your needy whimpers and the sight of your succumbing to his touch are intoxicating. Feeling your impending orgasm, Mauhul quickens his pace, driving his fingers deeper and faster. His thumb still circles your clit relentlessly, pushing you closer to the edge.

“That's it, cum for me,” he urges in a deep rumble. “Come apart on my fingers like the good little wife you are.”

He pistons his digits in and out of you rapidly, each thrust hitting that special spot inside you. Mauhul's own need is becoming unbearable, his cock throbbing painfully in his loincloth, pressing against your spine.

His words send you hurtling over the edge. Your pussy clenches tightly around his fingers as you cry out, your body spasming with the force of your orgasm. Mauhul keeps pumping, milking you for every drop of your release and you almost feel yourself faint from the overwhelming pleasure you experience. Heavy and loud pants fall from your parted lips as you sag against him, nearly dropping on the ground when your knees give out under you.

Feeling you come undone on his hand elicits a growl of satisfaction from Mauhul. He revels in the way your body trembles and in the vice-like grip of your spasming pussy around his fingers. He slows his motions, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm and holding you steady, one strong arm hooked around your middle to keep you from falling.

As you regain some semblance of control over your limbs, Mauhul withdraws his fingers from your dripping pussy with a lewd squelch and brings them up to his mouth, where he laps at them hungrily. A low grunt escapes him at the salty-sweet flavour, fueling his desire even more.

Slowly, deliberately, he sinks to his knees behind you and pulls you close, letting you lean your whole weight on him, your ass pressed against the upper side of his chest, your arm latched around his shoulders. He prays your trembling legs open again, holding your thigh up with his forearm and allowing his sons a perfect view of your glistening sex.

"Behold," he announces reverently, "the most precious prize. My wife’s sweet honey."

He dips his fingers in your juices again, splaying them all over his palm, then presents it to his sons’ hungry gazes, stretching his fingers to display your sticky essence.

“Why don’t you give them a little taste, hm my love?”

His free hand nudges your own and your hooded eyes flicker to his face. Your mind is still hazy after your intense release and you struggle to register his words.

Seeing your confusion, Mauhul takes your small hand in his massive one and guides it towards your soaked folds. His sons' eager eyes follow the movement, drinking in the sight of your delicate fingers coated in your own arousal.

“Let them taste you,” he explains, his voice a low rumble. “Feed them.”

With Mauhul's encouragement, you hesitantly extend your fingers towards the boys. They hungrily lean in, their tongues darting out to lick at your sticky digits. Moans of pleasure escape their lips as they savour your unique flavour.

Your chest heaves with a shuddering breath upon feeling their avid tongues swirl around your fingers. The haze in your mind is slowly fading and the realization of what is happening has you blushing all over again, especially as you notice how their eyes remain locked on yours, watching your reaction intently.

Noticing your blush, Mauhul smirks, pleased to see such a response from you. The sight of his sons worshipping your fingers like precious gems is incredibly arousing. He can't help but let out a satisfied groan, the sound vibrating against your back. He leans into your neck, whispering words meant only for your ears.

“Enjoy this, mìzaah . This is how you deserve to be treated – to be worshiped like a goddess.” His voice is a rough purr, filled with promise and intent.

Mauhul slips his hand up to cup and squeeze your breasts, thumb brushing over your hardened nipples. Shifting a little on his knees, he gently pushes your thighs wider apart. Your folds glistening wetly, inviting and tantalizing. His gaze shifts back to his sons, still licking and sucking thirstily at your fingers.

“Do you want more?” he questions them, voice laden with promise. Their nods and hums of approval are quick to follow and you can see their pupils dilate at the inviting sight of you stretched out so open for them. They glance back at their father, seeking his confirmation before they crawl forward, almost bumping their heads against each other in their eagerness to taste your juices directly from the source.

“Careful boys, there’s enough for the both of you.” he teases with a hearty chuckle, playfully squeezing your thighs as you whimper at the contact of their greedy tongues meeting your sensitive pussy.

Mauhul’s presence is large and imposing, yet his touch remains gentle as he helps you maintain balance while the boys worship your cunt. Their tongue action intensifies, their slurping sounds echoing in the room and their excitement palpable.

Looking down at them adoringly, he speaks in an authoritative tone, “Clean her properly, make sure you get all of her precious nectar.” His eyes land back on your face and an amused grin spreads on his face. “It will make you grow even stronger.”

Your arm squeezes tighter around his neck, seeking his grounding presence as his sons make you squirm and writhe against their tongues. Your head drops against his, your cheek pressing over his own, your shallow breaths fanning his skin.

The boys listen attentively to their father's instructions, their tongues swirling and probing deeper into your slick entrance. Mauhul's laughter rumbles through him, vibrating against your ear and sending pleasant tingles down your spine.

Watching his sons work diligently on pleasuring you only fuels Mauhul's own desires further. He can't help but let his eyes roam over your curves appreciatively, taking in every quiver and gasp that leaves your lips. With deliberate slowness, he slides his hand down from your breasts to trace along the side of your hips.

"Look how beautiful you are," he murmurs huskily. "My wife… my treasure."

His touch is tender yet possessive as he runs his rough fingertips across your soft skin, outlining each curve like he’s memorizing them.

The combination of your husband’s praises and reverent touches and his sons’ eager mouths sucking and lapping at you is too much to bear. A series of ever louder mewls fall from your lips, your grip tightening on Mauhul’s neck, as you feel another overwhelming orgasm crash onto you. Your body contorts sharply and your eyes roll back as white-hot pleasure blinds you.

"That's it, my love," he coos, his voice a soothing rumble. "Let go, let us take care of you."

The boys continue to lap at you, prolonging your bliss until you finally start to come down. As your tremors subside, they look up at their father with proud, satisfied grins, their faces smeared with your essence, their cheeks flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly due to their exertions.

“Good pups.” Mauhul looks at them fondly before turning his attention back to you. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his intense, dark gaze. "Aren’t they good pups, hm?”

You're still trying to ease your breathing as your heavy-lidded eyes meet his. You barely have the force to nod your head but take a deep breath and glance lazily at his sons, wishing to praise them for how amazing they made you feel. "G-Good pups..." you manage to say in a breathless and shaky voice.

A pleased smile curls at the corners of Mauhul's mouth, delighted by your response.

“You heard her, boys?”

The pride in Mauhul's eyes is unmistakable and so is the reverent awe in his sons’.

He gives your chin a gentle squeeze before releasing it. His gaze never wavers from yours, filled with a depth of affection and possession that sends warmth spreading through your entire being.

"Now, we show them how a true mate submits to her husband... and how a true husband worships his mate."

With a swift motion, Mauhul grabs hold of your hips firmly, and hoists himself up from the ground, bringing you up with him as well. He cradles you in his arms like a precious treasure and carries you towards the centre of the room, where the firelight casts long shadows across the ground.

"And you, my sons," he addresses the boys over his shoulder, "watch carefully and learn. This is what it means to belong to someone."

With that said, Mauhul lies you down on the furs, positioning you right in the middle. The boys watch their father with wide-eyed fascination as he eases himself down on top of you. There's an air of expectation and anticipation amongst you all – eager for whatever comes next.

Your hooded eyes are locked onto him, unwavering from his towering muscular form; they lazily roam over his bare chest, lashes drooping slowly as you breathe deeply, still trying to regain control of your pounding heart. Yet, it is difficult for you to prevent your heart from stuttering at the sight of your handsome partner and the prospect of what he is, finally, going to do to you. You melt into the warm, soft furs beneath you, your tender body still trembling from the unparalleled ecstasy you've just experienced. Your hair is scattered all around your head, and your thighs are clamped together, curling lazily on top of one other. All the while, your eyes marvel at him.

A low growl escapes from deep within Mauhul's throat as he hovers above you, his massive form casting a shadow over yours. He reaches out with one hand, tracing the delicate curve of your jawline with his calloused fingers before cupping your cheek gently.

"You are so beautiful, my love," he whispers, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could stare at you forever..."

Slowly, deliberately, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's a kiss filled with passion, hunger, and adoration. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours in a slow sensual dance as he explores every inch of your mouth. When he pulls away, his breath mingles with yours, and his eyes burn with a smouldering intensity.

“Feel me”, he whispers hoarsely, his hot breath sending chills down your spine. His hands gently take hold of yours, guiding them to his taut muscular chest. “I am your protector, your provider, your lover.”

Your hands reverently plane over his muscles, lingering over his heart, feeling its steady beat under your palm and his muscles flexing beneath your touch. Your eyes rake over his body, taking in his powerful physique, each mark on his skin telling a story of triumphs and failures. You bask in his warmth and the trepidant feeling buzzing within you. You're about to finally consummate your wedding with your husband, to be united with him in the most intimate and primal way. You don't even think about his sons watching you anymore, it's as if there's nobody else in the room but you and your beloved.

You meet his gaze again. Your eyes sparkle with pure devotion. The flickering flames of the fire are reflected in your big doe eyes, looking up at him so earnestly and expectantly.

There’s no mistaking the tenderness emanating from Mauhul’s touch as he lets go of your hands and begins tracing patterns along your exposed curves - mapping out every part of your body as if he has already learnt every curve and dip by heart.

His large hands slide down your sides, then grip your waist firmly, lifting you slightly to position your buttocks on his thighs. He captures your lips in another heated kiss as he presses his hardness against your core. He grinds slowly, relishing the sweet friction and the gasp that escapes your lips.

Your body arches instinctively into his touch. You are so ready, so wet, so incredibly eager for him.

With a tug he strips off his loincloth, revealing his fully erect cock to your hungry gaze. It stands tall and thick, a golden ring sitting at the base, its rosy head dripping with pre-cum, a visible testament to his keen arousal.

Your eyes widen at the sight of it, at its veiny-mapped look and mighty size which seems to stir something within your very core, a thrill running down your spine straight to your throbbing sex. There’s a hint of apprehension now clouding your gaze too, your body tenses just thinking of his thick, lengthy cock shoving its way into your hole.

“Trust me,” he murmurs as if sensing your concern, his voice rough yet reassuring. “I would never harm you.”

You nod and bury your hands in the furs at your sides as you brace yourself for what's coming next, anticipating both pain and pleasure. But he takes hold of your hands again, holding them tight in his warm palm, settling them on your lower belly. His eyes bore deeply into yours, engulfing you with a soothing warmth that permeates your whole body.

He lifts your legs higher with his free hand, spreading them wide across his hips as he aligns himself with your slick entrance. With deliberate slowness, he pushes in – just enough to breach that tight barrier, stretching you open inch by agonizing inch until he's buried balls-deep inside you, the golden ring is cool against your hot flesh. His eyes never leave yours.

Your walls stretch to accommodate him and clench tightly around his shaft. A groan rips from deep within his throat, pleasure coursing through his veins at this first intimate connection with his wife, as he feels how snug you are around him – how perfectly you fit him.

Mauhul drinks in the sight of you, his pupils dilating at the raw emotion shining in your eyes. He feels a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness wash over him, knowing that this precious beauty belongs to him now, body and soul.

Your body is shaken by faint tremors, your muscles tense, your walls throbbing around his unmoving length. Your locked eyes say everything about your connection, and the way he's gazing down at you, holding your hands and pulsating within your walls makes you feel so utterly... loved.

He holds still for a longer moment, savouring the incredible feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness. His heavy lids briefly drift closed as he revels in the blissful sensations, letting out a low, rumbling moan.

A few beats pass, and then with a guttural grunt, he begins to move, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back into your welcoming heat. He sets a slow, deep rhythm, relishing each stroke as he fills you again and again, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with a lewd sound.

His gaze never departs from your own, drinking in the play of emotions dancing across your face – the initial tension giving way to relaxation, to acceptance, to growing pleasure. He can feel you responding to him, your inner muscles rippling around his shaft, urging him deeper.

"You are truly mine now," he growls, punctuating each word with a powerful stroke. His hand tightens on yours as he picks up speed, driving into you with increasing urgency, chasing the blissful release you both crave. “And I am yours. Completely.”

Shivers of pleasure consume every cell in your body as he thrusts in and out of you at the most tantalizing and blissful speed. You can feel his length sink deep into you under your palms resting on your lower belly, where his hand keeps them still as if aiming to make you feel even more connected to him. "Mauhul, ohh... gods-" you whimper breathlessly, your eyes crossing slightly as the pressure in your stomach mounts.

The sound of your sweet cries spurs him on and he increases his tempo, pounding into you with relentless fervour, driven by primal urges and a deep need to claim you thoroughly. His hips slam against yours with each powerful thrust, the force sending jolts of pleasure radiating outward from your joining point.

He can tell you're nearing your peak, your moans turning to breathy cries of ecstasy, your hips bucking against his to meet each of his powerful thrusts. His strong arms wrap around your smaller frame, dwarfing you, and making you arch against his body. He leans down, capturing one of your nipples in his hot mouth, sucking hard on your sensitive button as he continues to plunge into you with unyielding force, setting a relentless pace designed to drive you wild with pleasure.

The dual stimulation sends shockwaves through you, intensifying the throbbing contractions of your pussy around his cock. Your hands reach out to grab onto something, finding his thick biceps. His muscles flex and ripple beneath your fingers as he drives into you with abandon, the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh filling the air.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, watching intently as tears well up in your eyes due to the overwhelming sensations. Pride, satisfaction, and adoration mingle together in his penetrating gaze.

“Come for me, mìzaah ,” he urges, his voice husky with desire. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock as you come undone.” He rocks into you harder, faster, seeking that perfect spot inside you to send you over the edge.

His lips leave your nipple to trail searing kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there as his cock drills relentlessly into your slick folds. He reaches down with one large hand to press firmly against your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in time with his thrusts, intent on throwing you over the edge into a shattering climax.

And he does push you to the brink of madness, sending your body convulsing against him, with cries of ecstasy tumbling out of your parted lips. Your walls clench tighter around him, milking his throbbing shaft, drawing him closer to his own peak.

He revels in the sensation of total possession, feeling you unravel beneath him. His grip tightens on your curves, dragging you along the slippery fur bed as he seeks out every last drop of pleasure from your coupling.

With a savage roar, he tightens his arms around you and buries himself to the hilt, his shaft pulsing as he erupts inside you, flooding your womb with his hot seed. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he loses himself in the all-consuming bliss of your joining. For long moments, he remains buried deep, savouring the aftershocks and the feeling of your still-clenching warmth around him, while you’re lost in a haze of ecstasy.

You’re still panting heavily, feeling thoroughly spent as your hooded eyes slowly regain focus, landing on your husband, taking in his dishevelled state, his sweaty skin, his long black braid draped over his shoulder, his blissful expression... and you feel your lips curl up into a lazy but content smile.

As the waves of pleasure recede, leaving behind a sense of profound satisfaction he pulls out slowly, allowing his spent length to slide free from your clenching walls with a wet pop. The sight of his cum dripping down your thighs and tainting the furs elicits a primal satisfaction from him, a grin spreading across his features.

“Mmh, ùmah (mine),” he coos racously, brushing a calloused thumb over your slick folds, smearing his seed over your soft skin and pushing it back inside your walls. He draws lazy circles around your clit, teasing it gently until you flinch away in protest, still too sensitive to touch.

His eyes roam hungrily over your flushed skin, the sheen of sweat glistening on every curve and valley. His fingertips proudly trace over the mark he's left on your breast with his tusks, as though claiming ownership of your body once more. His fingers then trail back downwards, following the gentle slope of your stomach until reaching the apex of your thighs. He gives your mound a playful smack, chuckling deeply when you squeal in surprise.

His laughter is rich and full, echoing off the stone walls of his chamber as he teases you mercilessly with gentle slaps and pokes, enjoying the way you squirm and writhe beneath his touch, and the lazy breathless giggles that escape your lips. He leans down, planting a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your lower belly and inner thigh. Reaching the apex of your legs, he parts your folds with his thumbs, exposing your sensitive pink flesh to the humid air of the room. His nose brushes against your sex, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scent of your arousal mixed with his own essence.

"Mmm, you smell like spring," he growls appreciatively, before he moves lower on the furs, spreading your thighs wide with his massive hands. His tongue darts out, flicking across your wetness in a slow swipe, tasting your juices mingled with his own.

“And you taste like victory,” he declares, dipping his head further between your legs to feast upon your sweetness. Each lick is drawn out, each suckle meant to draw forth another whimper of delight from your quivering form.

His onslaught on your still sensitive bundle of nerves has you wriggling and trashing on the furs, soft strained whimpers falling from your mouth, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging meekly on it. But suddenly you freeze, your heavy eyes landing on the two figures kneeling just a few feet away from you. His sons. How could you forget that you had an audience? They have been watching you coupling as part of their rite! Lost as you were to pleasure you didn't pay them any mind. But now, all at once, your husband's words rush back into your mind, bursting through the fog that has been numbing it. "My sons will learn from me... and then they will learn from you, as you please them as well." Your cheeks flush crimson again at the realization, and they only get hotter when you notice the massive bulges under their loincloths and the way their bodies tremble as if they're about to explode.

Mauhul feels you tense up and follows your startled gaze to where his sons kneel nearby. A low rumble emanates from his chest, somewhere between amusement and paternal pride at the sight of them, so aroused and fascinated by the act of mating. He knows they're learning valuable lessons today, about the power of desire, the thrill of conquest, and the depths of passion that can exist between husband and wife.

“Ah, look at them,” he says, his deep voice laced with mirth. “Look how much they enjoyed watching us. They've learned much about how to please their future mates.”

He shifts, laying beside you, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at your form sprawled languidly on the furs. His rough fingers trace the curve of your hip gently before resting on your plump belly, feeling it rise and fall with each ragged breath you take.

With a nod, he gestures for his boys to come closer, his voice low and commanding. “Approach, lads. Come to claim your new status.”

You watch in both apprehension and trepidation as his sons scramble forward eagerly, their cocks straining against their loincloths as they reach your side. The youngest, Moth, looks a tad more composed, although his breathing is uneven and quick, betraying his internal turmoil. Beside him, Torak appears visibly shaken; beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead, his normally resolute countenance displaying palpable trepidation. Yet both share the common hunger, the craving to experience such carnal intimacy like their father just has, guided by instinct and nature's demands. None move into action, waiting for their father to give them instructions.

Mauhul watches his sons approach, noting the mix of excitement and nervousness etched on their faces. He feels a surge of pride seeing them so eager to claim their place as adults, to follow in his footsteps and assume their roles as warriors and protectors and fathers.

He leans down, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, before sitting up straighter and addressing his offspring.

"Torak, first," he simply states while directing his attention to his eldest son. His tone exudes authority, demanding utter compliance, to which the firstborn responds by taking a tentative step forward, his large hands fumbling with the leather ties that hold his loincloth in place. The material drops away easily, revealing his throbbing cock, fully erect and pulsating with unspent lust.

Your sight settles on his veiny meat, and you linger there for a moment. It's not nearly as large or long as his father's, but it bends slightly upward, giving it a wicked look that makes your walls flutter.

Mauhul glances at you, your face showing signs of nervousness mingled with lustful curiosity – the perfect mix for this particular scenario. There’s something intensely satisfying about watching his family unite like this, bonding through tradition.

“Show her what you’ve learned,” his voice booms through the room, filled with pride and expectation.

Torak’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to cup one of your breasts. His touch is tentative at first, unsure, but quickly gains confidence under his father's approving gaze and your soft hums. He leans down, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand continues to knead the other breast.

Watching his eldest son attend to you stirs something primal within Mauhul, a surge of possessiveness mixed with satisfaction. He leans back on his heels, allowing Torak space to explore and learn while keeping a protective eye on the proceedings.

A smirk plays on his lips as he watches the young orc's tentative touches blossom into confident caresses, spurred on by your moans and the way you arch your back, offering yourself further to his son’s attentions.

You bite onto your bottom lip to muffle your moans as you feel the young orc’s hand travel along your stomach and slide between your thighs. Your lashes flutter and your head cranes slightly to the side to search your husband’s gaze. One of your hands reaches out as well, seeking contact with him. Your fingers find his thigh, resting near your head, and dig slightly into his tight flesh.

Mauhul meets your gaze, his eyes burning with intensity as he allows you to ground yourself through the touch. He covers your hand with his own, holding it firmly against his thigh, the contact a reminder of your connection amidst the sea of new sensations washing over you. His other palm comes up to brush stray hair from your sweat-dampened brow, tucking them behind your ear tenderly.

His voice is a low rasp when he speaks, meant only for your ears. "That's it, kisee . Let yourself feel everything. Remember, my sons are learning from you too - teach them well."

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, his words igniting a fresh wave of arousal but also a deep sense of responsibility. You think you realize now how important this moment is. How meaningful your role is in this rite. And so you brush aside the lingering awkwardness you feel towards this unorthodox orcish tradition, releasing your inhibitions to try and take on the duty your husband has bestowed on you.

Your free hand moves down towards Torak’s head to gently stroke his long dark hair tied in decorative braids, your fingers weaving carefully in his loose roots.

“You’re doing good, Torak.” you praise him softly, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "Don't be afraid to touch me as you wish." Your stomach flutters when you see the young orc look up at you in a mix of shock and awe, then the instant glint of confidence that flashes across his eyes before he lets his fingers brush against your wet folds and rub around your entrance. His eyes are locked onto yours to gauge your reactions. You moan and nod at him in approval, your hands tightening their relative hold on Torak's hair and your husband's palm.

Mauhul's grip on your hand also tightens reflexively as he watches his eldest son gain courage from your encouragement. Pride swells in his chest, not just for Torak's growing boldness, but for your poise and grace in guiding his son. You embrace your role as a mentor with a natural instinct that takes his breath away.

The sight of Torak's fingers disappearing into your slick heat sets Mauhul's blood aflame, but as much as he longs to join you and stake his claim once more, he knows he has to wait. This is his sons’ moment and he won’t rob them of it. Instead, he leans in close to your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck as he murmurs, "Such a good mate you are. My precious little wife… helping my sons become Shakran’z. "

Your heart leaps at his words, your languid gaze flickering up to briefly meet his eyes before you lock it onto his firstborn’s expectant look once more. Your fingers curl around the end of his braid, gently pulling on it. Your attention seems to spur him on, leading him to push his thick fingers inside your already thoroughly stretched and naturally lubed entrance. He’s still slightly hesitant in his actions, but you smile at him and roll your hips against his hand, to reassure him that he’s on the right path. “Yes, like that, Torak. Curl your fingers…”

Mauhul delights in the spectacle before him: you, the precious gem of his tribe, deflowering his young in service of mating traditions, but with all the grace and love of someone who genuinely cares for those they guide. It ignites a fire within him unlike anything else.

"That's it, Torak," his voice breaks through the silent haze of lust that fills the hut, gruff yet filled with paternal pride. "Please your mate before you claim them."

His father's words further encourage Torak to be more confident in his actions. His fingers curl and start to slide in and out of you, teasing that spongy area inside of you that has you instantly moaning in pleasure. His other hand moves to your lower belly, positioning his thumb over your clitoris just like he has seen his father do earlier. The pad of his thumb draws uneven circles on your swollen nub, managing to elicit shivers to run through your body.

Your head falls back on the furs, your body writhing and arching under his ministrations. Your palm tightens on Mauhul's hand and he squeezes it back as he watches intently, drinking in every detail of your shared intimacy. The flush spreading across your cheeks, the way your breasts rise and fall rapidly with each moan escaping your lips, the sway of your hips matching Torak's rhythm.

"Good boy," he praises Torak, his voice rough with need. "Make sure she’s ready for you... Make her cum..."

A whimper falls from your lips as Torak quickens his movements, wanting to take you over the edge just as his father said. Your hips buck against his hand, your eyes squeeze shut as you feel that pressure growing in your lower belly all over again.

"Yes... Oh... Yes..." you encourage him, cradling his braid in your shaky fingers until you can't take it anymore and start to convulse in pleasure, a muted scream falling from your parted lips.

You don't have time to recover, however, because feeling your walls clench around his fingers has sent Torak's hunger to the roof. His instincts kick in, overpowering his lack of experience. His eagerness to finally claim his maturity is so deep and ardent that he grabs his cock and pushes it inside you while you're still spasming.

"Oh! Gods!!" you cry out, eyes widening in shock and landing on Torak's hips just as they start to move back and forth with an erratic and disjointed pace that makes your whole body shake and jiggle.

With a low growl, Mauhul witnesses as his eldest plunges into you. Watching as his progeny claims you with his throbbing cock brings forth memories that burn bright within his chest - his own rite of passage decades ago, the impatience of youth, the yearning, the awake of his primal instincts, the overwhelming sensation of completeness, the deep-seated need fulfilled. Your pleasure-laden screams fill the air, mixing with his son’s huffs, setting off an echo of past bliss inside him.

“Easy now,” he growls soothingly through clenched teeth, giving his son a pointed look, to which Torak immediately responds by steadying his thrusts, even if only barely. Since the start of the rite, he’s felt his length throb maddeningly, an ache which only worsened as he watched his father claim his wife. And now that he is finally inside you, he can't hold back any longer. His grunts become louder, his eyes squeeze closed and his warm palms grab onto your hips as he plunges deeper inside you, seeking his first release. Release that comes quickly and overwhelmingly, with hips bucking erratically against yours as his hot seed fills your channel.

Your stunned gaze flashes towards your husband, searching his face, silently questioning if his son was supposed to cum inside you. The proud look etched onto Mauhul's face is enough to convince you that Torak's did exactly what was expected of him. You feel his palm squeeze yours as he cups his son’s jaw, drawing his hooded eyes on him.

"Let it be known," he declares in a loud, clear voice which echoes through the room, "That Torak, my firstborn, has finally become a Shakran .”

The sound of Torak’s shallow breaths mingling with the crackling of the fire and the gazes of the three orcs so full of intensity and pride creates an atmosphere that is both raw and sacred. You don’t even dare to breathe as you lie there on the furs, your mind spinning and walls twitching around Torak’s softening cock as you stare at the scene in awe. Your wonder only intensifies as you catch your husband dipping a sharpened bone in a pot of ink and puncturing his son’s skin with it, skillfully etching a marking onto his chest. You’re not sure what the intricate lines mean but you’ve seen identical marks on your husband’s chest and you can definitely tell how significant they are. Torak’s passive reaction to the puncturing is also worthy of notice; he maintains his attention on his father and keeps his muscles from twitching despite the droplets of purplish blood rolling down his thick green skin.

Once the marking is completed, Mauhul gives his son a final proud nod. You can feel his seed leaking out of your walls, as well as the humid air meeting your wet folds, as Torak slowly detaches from you, but not before smiling down at you and whispering, "Raak ut, ishtà-kurme."

You've been with the clan long enough to grow familiar with the way the orcs express their gratitude, although perhaps not long enough to understand what the term 'kurme' means. Now, however, there is no time to dwell on translations because, while one son has completed his rite, another has yet to go through the passage. And so, everyone's attention is drawn to the youngest, who has been patiently waiting, in reverent silence, for his turn.

As soon as Torak pulls away from you, leaving behind a trail of your combined fluids, Moth steps closer to take his place between your legs.

Leaning back on his heels, his large hand finding your hair, Mauhul allows his eyes to roam over the youngest orc. He’s not particularly large like Torak, but he carries a strength in himself, an aura of determination. The same determination that was in Mauhul when he became an adult, years ago. Even you can notice the uncanny resemblance between the two now that Moth is so close. Both of his boys resemble your spouse in more ways than one, but the youngest exudes the same calmness and tenderness that Mauhul has. The way his palm reaches for your face to gently wipe a stray tear from your cheek - a tear you had no idea you shed - and his kind eyes smile down at you as if he's the one supposed to reassure you only serve to reinforce your impressions.

You’re so lost in his dark eyes, marvelling at just how much his gaze resembles that of your beloved Mauhul that you barely manage to catch a glimpse of brownish freckles scattered across his throbbing length before he rubs its head along your slit and gently but firmly pushes inside, eliciting a soft gasp out of your lips. He feels larger than his sibling as he stretches your walls. The wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh soon fills the room again as Moth picks up the tempo, his pace much more controlled and steadier than Torak’s. One would almost think this was not his first time, although watching his father first and his brother second must have given him enough visual clues to know what to do. Soft whimpers fall from your lips as your body is rocked by his thrusts, your heavy-lidded eyes unwavering from the youngest's face.

“Strong, steady strokes,” Mauhul advises softly, his voice carrying an air of approval. He feels a surge of pride swell in his chest seeing how Moth seems to have taken in everything, moving with such control and purpose. It reminds him of himself, years ago, determined to make the most of this rite, eager to prove his worth. He runs a comforting hand over your sweat-drenched hair, noting the exhaustion etched on your face but also the satisfaction shining in your eyes.

Moth nods, acknowledging his father's words without breaking the rhythm. Yet, it's clear that he needs no prompting, every thrust a deliberate caress designed to elicit moans both from you and him. His hands cup the soft mounds of your breasts, thumbs teasing your hardened nipples, adding to the rousing sensation. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your walls to clench tighter around him.

“...You're doing well, my son.” Mauhul praises him, his massive hand slides possessively over your stomach, feeling the tremors beneath his palm as you respond to Moth's attention.

Your eyes meet the dark pools of your husband's, and even through the haze, the exhaustion, and yet another orgasm brewing in your belly, you find yourself smiling up at him, searching for his touch with your smaller hand, his name falling from your lips in a hushed plea.

The sound of his name rolling off your tongue causes something to stir deep within Mauhul. A warmth spreads across his chest, mingling with pride and love, a blend that makes his heart throb painfully. “My beautiful kisem… ” he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. Meanwhile, the rhythm between you and Moth grows more frantic, your hips rolling lazily to meet each of his powerful thrusts. Your body moves of its own accord, responding naturally to the sensations flooding through you. You're teetering on the edge once again, the pressure building in your core threatening to burst forth at any moment.

Moth’s fingers meet your swollen bundle of nerves, interrupting the kiss by eliciting a loud whimper from your lips. Your hooded eyes meet Moth’s again, his gaze locked onto your face, eager to capture your every reaction, ready to change his actions accordingly.

You only have the force to rest your free hand upon his - the one still squeezing your breast - and nod meekly in approval before you drop your head back, resting it on your husband’s thigh. Every nerve of your body is awake and on fire, your muscles tensing, your thighs twitching at every stroke of his cock and flick of his finger against your clit, your face contorting in pleasure as one more orgasm rapidly approaches.

Mauhul’s hand caresses your hair, providing a grounding presence amidst the storm of sensations overwhelming you. The sight of you losing yourself to pleasure over and over again is intoxicating, he’s already grown addicted to it and he can't wait to witness it every day from this moment forward.

Moth seems to sense your impending climax, his movements becoming erratic as he chases after his own. His strokes grow shorter and more insistent, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your sensitive nub. With a final, deep thrust and a low grunt, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, holding still as he unleashes ropes of cum into your channel. He doesn’t stop pleasuring you though, even as he reaches his first release. Only a few moments later your back arches and a strangled cry tears from your throat as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

Mauhul watches in awe as you shatter apart, your entire body trembling and writhing against his and his son’s. Pride swells in his chest at the sight of his youngest son bringing his wife to such heights of pleasure. He leans down to scoop you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest. "You did wonderfully, my love," he praises softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, his tusks grazing your sweaty skin.

His gaze shifts to Moth, who is withdrawing from your quivering body, a satisfied smirk playing about his lips. "It seems my young warrior has inherited his father's prowess in the art of lovemaking." he announces with a smug, then looks at Torak and adds, “Both of my young warriors. You have made me very proud.”

His look then turns solemn once more as he fixes his dark eyes on his youngest son and declares: “Let it be known that Moth, my secondborn, has finally become a Shakran .” And just as he did for Torak before, he grabs the bone from the floor, dips it in the pot of ink and brings it to his son’s heaving chest. Mauhul presses his other palm on his skin and looks at him with affection and reassurance as his son’s body gradually eases its tremors. Only then does he start to mark his skin with the same intricate lines as earlier. Even through your droopy lids, you can’t help but reverently watch as your husband’s hand makes quick work of the tattoo. Your tired eyes rake over the young orc’s skin, rising to his face. He’s calm even now, a perfect picture of serenity, which deeply amazes you. He too, just like his brother has done before, moves his gaze back to you and smiles as he whispers the same orcish words with a devotion that makes your still racing heart miss a beat. You cling to your husband’s side as you nod at his son, acknowledging his words despite not fully understanding their meaning, already thinking of inquiring about them to Mauhul later.

With the completion of the ritual, Mauhul sets the bone aside and pulls you closer, his embrace enveloping you completely. As he rests his chin atop your head, his voice booms out, filling the room with a mix of pride and love.

“You've earned your rightful place among our adults,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Today, you became true Shakran’z - protectors, providers, and lovers. May these marks serve as a reminder of your role in our tribe. When the time comes, you’ll carry on our line of truebloods by providing your seed to the clan’s zàgartha but you will also take wives and repopulate our tribe with strong warriors, children of the bond you will build with your drùda’z.”

Mauhul's gaze drifts to you, looking exhausted but content in his embrace. He brushes a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone.

“Tomorrow we will celebrate. Now… you may go.” he dismisses his sons in a whisper, without taking his eyes away from you.

He wraps his massive arms around your tiny frame protectively, holding you close against him. The warmth emanating from his large body envelops you in its cocoon-like embrace as he cradles you.

You struggle to keep your eyes open, feeling too spent, drained of all your forces after the physically straining rite you've taken part in, your body still buzzing from the intense series of orgasms you've just experienced. Your sweaty forehead rests on his chest, your frame sagged against his muscular torso.

"Mau?" you meekly call out for him. Your droopy eyes lock onto his, your fingers lazily drawing patterns on his broad chest. You wait for him to hum back before speaking again.

"Your sons have called me… 'kurme'," you point out, curiosity twinkling in your tired eyes. "What does that mean?"

A deep, rumbling chuckle escapes Mauhul's chest, resonating through your frame pressed against him. He looks down at you adoringly, his expression softening at the adorable sight you present - so exhausted yet curious like a mouse. His broad hand strokes slowly down your back in soothing circles as he responds.

“That is the orcish word for mother,” he explains in hushed tones, his dark eyes beaming down at you. “However, they have not simply called you mother but ‘ishtà-kurme’. Guiding mother. The mother who lights the path.” His thumb draws idle figures on your bare shoulder. The gentle motion seems to ease your strained, tender body.

“In our culture,” he starts again, his deep voice growing serious. “It's a term of utmost reverence and devotion. To a Shakran orc, the ishtà-kurme is someone held dear and sacred. They have shown you immense respect by calling you that, my love. They will hold you in high regard for their whole lives for what you have done for them today… and for all the things they will learn from you in the days ahead.”

Slowly he lifts his hand, cradling your delicate face gently within the expanse of his huge, calloused palm. He lowers his roughened lips against yours, capturing them in a tender kiss, conveying a wealth of emotion that words cannot match. “You became their yazàkurme , chosen mother, the moment I took you as my kisem… ”, he pauses as a fond smile curls up his lips, his black eyes sparkling as they reflect the warm glow of the fire. “My kisee -” he coos affectionately in a softer tone, making your stomach flutter. “My wife. And one day you’ll be kurme to our children.”

You sigh, feeling your heart swell with love. “Those are a lot of names…” you quip back with a soft huff of a chuckle, your tired eyes crinkling in both amusement and affection as they gaze lovingly up at him.

With a hearty laugh, Mauhul’s deep voice fills the room, echoing off the stone walls. His laughter fades into a soft hum as he gazes down at you, his eyes sparkling with undisguised adoration.

“Indeed, many names for one little human,” he muses aloud, a touch of pride evident in his voice. “But each one holds its weight in significance. For us orcs, titles matter. They define bonds, roles, and responsibilities.”

He releases your face, allowing his roughened hand to slide down your neck, coming to rest on the swell of your breast, just above your heart.

“You lost your name when you left your village to join us,” he whispers solemnly, his eyes flickering to his hand as his fingers splay over your soft flesh, feeling your heartbeat under his palm. “So we shall give you many, in return.” His eyes meet yours again, a genuine and fond smile blooming on his lips, one that causes your heart to stutter under his palm. “But one will always stand above all. And that is mìzaher. My mìzaah, that's what you are. My life companion, my only love.”

Your palm comes to rest on his cheek, softly cradling his face as you gaze deeply into his eyes, a faint veil of emotion blurring your vision as you return his adoring smile. You're physically drained, still a tad unsure of what has just occurred and what it all means for you, but one thing is certain: the overwhelming feeling of being loved, treasured, and protected that envelops you fully now as you rest in your beloved husband's arms. You wish for this feeling to last forever.

Mauhul leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savours the gentle caress. When he opens them again, they shine with a depth of emotion you have rarely seen in another being - pure, unadulterated love.

"You need rest, mìzaah, and a bath," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your palm. His eyes crinkle in amusement as he adds: "I can gift you more names tomorrow."

He shifts, carefully scooping you into his arms without breaking eye contact. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist as he stands, cradling you against his broad chest.

“You can close your eyes. I’ll take good care of you.”

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me ♡

a.n.: any kind of feedback is highly appreciated! Let me know what you think pls 🥺

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remiratboi · 3 months ago

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Monsters so big they can throw my fat body around with ease 🥵

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my-maehem · 1 year ago

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Made my cats into tressyms but I have a favorite

#Max my tuxedo cat and Earl my chubby gray cat #wouldn’t be the cutest if you were romancing gale and if you had a tressym they would be with Tara???#just me?#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 oc #bg3 tara #tara the tressym #tressym #dnd #dnd oc #oc: hemera tav

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hotluncheddie · 9 months ago

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little addition to this 🥞

it’s routine, every week, steve and robin go out. they get a little drunk, they dress up, and they dance. steve forgets all about work, about the past, about his dead love life. forgets it all and has fun with his best friend.

and it’s routine, every week, to go get the best pancakes the midwest has to offer. at denny’s. at 3am.

he gets the same thing every time and sits at the same booth, with robin. in their now sweaty club clothes, still tipsy and giggly and winding down from the heady buzz of the music and lights. they go to denny’s and steve is always starving, has been waiting, secretly thinking about it all night. can’t help closing his eyes around the first sweet mouthful.

he hadn’t wanted to go the first time, his feet hurt and he wanted his bed. but robin insisted and steve could never really say no to her. and that’s when he saw him, part of the reason he goes back every week and sits at the same booth. the denny’s line cook. the most beautiful guy steve’s ever seen. the very guy who makes the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am.

who steve can’t get up the nerve to talk too.

he’s just, scared. especially because he’s always a little drunk, worries that the guy won’t take him as genuine, won’t believe him that it’s been months and he’s all he can think about. that he sits at that booth because it gives him a view for the pass window, gets to see his hands slide the plates up and pull the tickets down and he has long fingers and lithe forearms and the biggest, prettiest brown eyes.

so sunday morning always comes and steve’s sober again, but he just can’t make himself go back.

he doesn’t even know his name.

but he want to. wants to know what he looks like not in work clothes, what he does in his spare time. wants to know if he’d still like steve in his work clothes, instead of shorts that are cut so high he’s almost showing cheek, or shirts that show the softness hes accepted at his stomach. if he even likes any of that at all, could ever like it. could like steve.

but then robin has to go visit her parents for the weekend. and without her there, there’s no club, no drinks, no dancing under the lights. it’s just steve, in their little apartment, thinking about work and the past and his none existent love life.

and the little pep talk robin gave before leaving floats through his mind. telling him he could try, if he wants, she believes in him, and hes a catch, she would know, she knows him best.

so when sleep won’t take him steve sees it as a sign. he switches his sweats for jeans but keeps the hoodie he’s in, wants to be comfortable, and he goes to get the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am. like every saturday night. but he’s sober. nervous but he needs to go. needs to be brave.

needs to find out how the pretties line cook makes the best pancakes around.

needs to know his name.

final

@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @stevesbipanic @spectrum-spectre @scoops-aboy86

#might have one more in me #to fall in love at the nighttime diner #that’s romance #hotlunch #ideas #steddie #chubby steve harrington #steve x eddie #<3

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thechaoticdruid · 9 months ago

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Astarion x Chubby reader/Tav Headcanons because I'm tired of reading about Tav's perfect petite or hourglass body.

Some of the Headcanons get quite sexual so MDNI 18+ People ONLY. There's also some slight gore and mentions of Astarion's trauma.

Chubby Tav is going to be mentioned to be a Wizard with a noble background because that makes the most sense for a chubby adventurer in my mind!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Astarion wasn't really attracted to your body at first.

Not that he found you ugly or anything it's just your physical appearance really wasn't that relevant to his plan.

What mattered to him was how well you carried yourself in a fight and how easy you'd be to string along.

You were a skilled Wizard with a tendency to be mercilessly cruel when you came across the most vile of villains.

Some asshole was murdering children? You cast a spell that caused him to slowly inflate until he exploded into bloody bits.

Some crazy bitch was torturing and using innocents for blood sacrifices? You took control of her own body and made her stab herself over and over.

And Astarion just ate that up.

Not that he cared for the sad pathetic welps in peril mind you.

But the bloodlust in your eyes as you dealt with those you considered unredeemable villains honestly made him feel a bit hot and bothered.

And the sheer magical prowess you displayed was rather impressive.

Plus you didn't bore him half to death with magical lectures like Gale did so that was nice.

As he began pursuing you, your insecurities became rather evident.

You would often dismiss his flirting or straight up ignore it.

Being told you were sexually unappealing all your life had really gotten to you. To the point where you just couldn't wrap your head around someone as beautiful as Astarion coming onto you.

But determined as ever to have you as his protection Astarion persisted.

Perhaps you'd never had a lover or perhaps you'd had far too many whom left you for someone they found more appealing.

Either way you were convinced Astarion's advances meant nothing.

That either he wanted something from you or he was simply mocking you like so many others had done in the past.

So when he finally is blunt enough to say he wants sex with you it's a big shock.

Your first response is to push back.

You tell him to quit messing with you because it was not funny!

He swears to you that his desire to sleep with you is genuine and begins to go so far as to list everything he finds alluring about you.

The taste of your blood.

The way your eyes sparkle when filled with bloodlust.

How gods damned sexy you looked covered in the blood of your foes.

When it was clear that he hadn't made any comments about your figure, you actually began to think perhaps he wasn't making fun of you.

It took some time to think about it, but eventually you decided to accept his offer the night of the tiefling party.

At first you're very hesitant to remove your clothes in fear of him immediately backing out once he was able to fully take in your plump form.

At that point Astarion strips down first and seductively coaxes you out of your clothes.

If you're AFAB he immediately becomes enamoured with your plump breasts, his first instinct is to start sucking on them like his life depends on it as his hands grope and caress the deliciously thick cushy curves of your hips and ass.

If you're AMAB he's a bit more grabby with your ass than anything else. He also makes flirty remarks on how big you are while teasingly grabbing your cock.

Either way on your first night together you let him take the lead, evil voices in your head telling you that if you were on top you'd crush him like some disgusting monstrous beast.

He doesn't press you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable and focuses mostly on your wants and pleasure.

Leaves a trail of kisses and licks all over your body, worshipping every inch of it.

If you express your insecurities with him, claiming you didn't think he'd want you because you were fat he brushes it off.

"Nonsense darling, there's just more of you to nibble on.~"

And he is sure to nibble on every inch of you.

Especially those thick thighs.

He loves drinking from you there before eating you out or sucking you off.

As he begins to develop actual feelings for you he feels the need to comfort you more about your insecurities.

Of course Astarion doesn't quite understand how to do comfort. Not having any of it himself for the past 200 years.

He tries to fix it with sex. Thinking perhaps if you felt desired these pesky insecurities would just go away.

He'd grab your ass and whisper lustful remarks about your body when no one was watching.

Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn't.

Eventually however things became much more complicated once Astarion came to the realization he was falling for you.

He found himself unable to 'perform' any longer. The guilt of manipulating you began to eat away at him.

Not to mention it was becoming harder and harder to come up with an excuse for why he didn't always seem fully present during intimacy with you. You were becoming more and more concerned. Which just made the guilt he felt grow.

You were too good for him!

He just knew you'd be crushed! Finally finding one person who actually desired you, only to discover it was all a lie!

You'd hate him for sure he just knew it!

But he couldn't do it any longer. You were kind to him. You actually cared about him.

And Gods damnit he knew what was like when people only care about your looks more than most.

You deserved better.

So he came clean and poured out his heart to you. Fully prepared for your anger and resentment.

But when it happened you just looked tired.

You confessed that deep down you knew it was all a manipulation.

Gods, the idea that someone as attractive as him would want you for your body was just ridiculous to you.

You really just wanted to pretend for a while.

To feel wanted and desired.

So in a way you used him too.

But then you too began to fall for him as well and began to dread when you'd eventually have to stop playing pretend.

After confession however you'd both agreed to start over, take things at a much slower pace.

And for the most part things were great!

Your late night trysts turned into cuddle sessions.

Astarion particularly loved using you as a pillow and snuggling into the warm, soft, cushion of your body.

If you ever felt the demons of insecurity eating away at you Astarion would immediately insist he didn't care what you looked like. He liked you for you.

Because you're you.

He had a little trouble wording it but it was sweet nonetheless.

When you finally reached Baldur's Gate there were a few hiccups in the road.

You were back amongst society and the eyes of the nobility who were a constant thorn in your side growing up.

Your father, the head of your family was intent on marrying you off to strengthen an alliance between another noble family and your own.

But despite his efforts most of the other patriar families were far too stuck up to accept his offer.

Deaming you as too unappealing to marry.

You didn't have any interest in an arranged marriage anyway, much too invested in your magical studies, but the rude comments from some of the other nobles still stung.

"My child is not being married off to a deep rothé!" One of them had actually said.

Now that you were back home the demons of your past began to plague your mind once again.

Astarion was there for you now however and tried to keep your mind off of things by reminding you that you both had a quest or two to finish!

If anyone were to make a rude comment out on the streets or sneer at you behind your back about how Astarion was way out of your league he would be quick to comfort you.

He'd pull you to the side and plant a wet kiss on your mouth right in front of any possible offenders.

And if any of them were to mysteriously disappear amongst the shadows of the night...

All the better.

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davinawritings · 23 days ago

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Puppy hybrid boyfriend that has a super sensitive cock so he always cums really fast. Luckily he can go round after round so you still cum over and over again but he gets so shy and embarrassed about it. He lets out whines and whimpers as his oversensitive cock pulses and cums repeatedly.

He can’t help how much he loves you and the feel of your puffy pussy. He just gets so needy and whiny for you and you absolutely love it.

By the end of the night you are just a huge mess and filled/covered in his cum yet he won’t even let you out of bed to clean up a bit. He’s just so needy that he can’t let you out of his arms.

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monstersflashlight · 1 month ago

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Oh idea! Based off this manga https://chapmanganelo.com/manga-kb89195/chapter-62

Made me think of a naga male orgy with fem reader and how cool/hot it would be- I say cool because of their cold blooded nature would be perfect for snuggling during a hot summer O///w///O

A/N: Hi there! I tried to mix y’all request the best I could, I think it turned out great, hope you like it! <3

Work-hubbies

Nagas x chubby fem!reader || sharing is caring, aphrodisiac, dub-con, overstimulation, hemi-peens, double penetration, knotting

Your naga boss called for you in a weird Wednesday morning. Your DILF naga coworker, your work-hubby as your friend liked to call him, was staying home for a couple days and your boss wanted you to go with him to his house and check on him. You were more than on board with that idea, were worried about him, and being completely truthful… you missed seeing him. He had been out just a week, but you wanted nothing else but to see him again. Your unrequited crush was showing and you knew it, but you said yes either way.

You find yourself knocking on an unknown door a couple hours later. He opens the door and you never felt so happy about seeing him. He’s the sunshine of the office and you love seeing him everyday, but right now, when he looks soft and tired and his eyes are blown wide when he sees you two there… he looks stunning.

You step inside when your boss pushes you softly, almost making you fall over your work-hubby. He catches you and laughs softly, caressing your face and telling you how beautiful you look. You blush and they both coo at you, their tails coming around you in a naga sandwich. You look at them utterly confused, not understanding what is happening or why is happening. Deep down, you are also excited, a spike of anticipation and hope growing inside your body as they take turns claiming your mouth. You didn’t know they felt that way about you, but at that moment, surrounded and embraced, you can only kiss them back.

When they explain about the rut, and their crushes on you, you are over the moon. When they tell you how they need a good little mate and you are perfect… you melt a little inside. You thought they didn’t know about your crush on them, you thought you were too young for them, but apparently they don’t think so. Apparently they want you as much as you want them. They want you so much they decided you’d be their rut companion… whatever that meant.

You feel a bite in the back of your neck, and then a heat as high as a volcano running down your body until your knees give out. Then you feel another bite in the side of your neck, more venom being injected into your body. You whine pathetically when the burn destroys every single thought in your brain, but they shush you, their tails coming around your body and keeping you cool for a few minutes. You are dragged to a weird room, something akin to a nest in the middle of it, you look at it with hooded eyes, your body burning down from the bites in your neck.

And suddenly you can only feel the need. A deep and thought consuming need that leaves you breathless and boneless. They take your body and manhandle you to where they want you, your body not responding to your orders. You are completely at their mercy, the venom paralyzing your body and leaving only the sensations to be felt. And they take advantage of it.

They grope your body until you are even more desperate, until your breathing is so hard and labored you think you are going to die if they don’t get inside of you ASAP. You’ve never felt like that, you’ve never felt such a deep need that makes you shiver in anticipation but also makes your body burn with desperation. You can’t talk, you can’t move, and your body is vibrating with an energy you didn’t know it possessed.

Their tails and hands are all over you, if feels like they are touching every single cell in your body at the same time. It’s too much, it’s not enough. You just want them inside of you, you just want them to be merged into your body and there is no separation anymore. You need them more than you need air. But they do nothing about it, they keep touching your body, they keep touching every part of you… but not the part where you need them most. Your pussy is so wet it’s dripping, literally dripping. You’ve never been as wet as you are right now and they seem to not care about it.

It’s driving you completely insane to be surrounded by their bodies unable to participate, unable to do anything but to feel them and surrender to them. But it’s also exhilarating. It’s the most marvelous feeling in the world, your body at their mercy and their venom running through your body as they play with your tits, with your fat tummy, with your luscious thighs… You are theirs. You feel theirs.

When you feel the first cock against your entrance, you cry, tears running down your cheeks as they shush you and tell you how precious you are, how wonderful you are doing and how well you will take them. One of them pushes inside, you don’t know which, you can’t focus enough to know. They are everywhere, they are so close but so far… You need them closer.

The second cock nudges at your asshole, making you groan as he pushes inside slowly. Their venom prepared you perfectly for them, opening you up completely to their exploring cocks until you are stuffed with naga cock. They thrust in unison, leaving you empty and desperate just to fill you together two seconds later. They keep that rhythm until your brain is unable to understand anything but their cocks. Their amazing cocks rocking your world from inside out. You come. And they bite you again, pumping some more venom into your oversensitive body and making you come again. And again. And again.

Your body is convulsing with orgasm after orgasm when you feel the first knot inside your pussy, stretching you to the point of brain-melting pleasure, but you can only whine as they move your hips slowly. You need it. You need everything. You need to be so full you burst. You need to be filled to the point of rupture of your brain. You need to be stretched until you meet with the angels and the devil. You come again and you whine, more pathetically this time, and they laugh softly, caressing your body and squeezing you harder between them. You can feel your lover’s upper dick pressing against the fat of your tummy, squeezed between you two, the underside rubbing against your clit to the point of over-sensitivity after so many orgasms. And at the same time you can feel the upper dick of your other lover rubbing against your lower back as his dick keeps thrusting inside your tender asshole.

It’s too much, it’s not enough.

You come again.

Then you feel it.

The second knot expanding in your asshole and pressing so deliciously against the knot in your pussy that you scream until your voice gives out and they moan until you start feeling shot after shot of come inside of you. You feel your stomach getting bigger, as your companions squeeze you harder between them, your brain getting dizzy as you come, and come, and come…

Until your brain disconnects from reality and your vision turns black.

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dragonsholygrail · 1 month ago

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While at first your owners were overjoyed about the fact that you, a Mouse Hybrid, and your mate, a Cat Hybrid were getting along so much better than before, their concern quickly grew. They began to wonder if you two were getting along too well, not knowing how far your relationship had already progressed.

They worried that their silly little cat was playing too rough with you. Having seen the way he would tackle you, his hips pinning you in place so he can paw at your body. Or the way his sharp teeth nip along the fold of your neck, leaving dark claiming marks in their place.

They got you for him so he could have a friend but they didn’t want him bothering your cute self too much if you were unable to fight back when the intensity rose.

And as his heat got closer and closer to starting they only began worrying more. They knew he’d become even more rough and raunchy. The last thing they wanted was for their precious plump mouse to get scared or hurt.

So, for your safety, they decided to set up their cat hybrid with their friend’s cat hybrid. With an agreement from both owners she would come stay over at the house so they could mate in peace. Only until his heat had passed and he was able to control himself as usual; if only they knew.

Your big mouse cheeks puff up in anger as the female cat walks into the house. Parading into your territory. Your mate didn’t even notice, too busy loudly purring while licking at his marks on your neck and making sure they stayed dark. Something he was doing more of recently with his heat coming up.

When your bf’s heat fully started, it began to affect all the hybrids in the house. Your bf kept clinging to you, taking every chance he could to get away and take you somewhere he can relieve the heat you cause to burn inside him even hotter.

The other cat hybrid could smell his alluring scent and it grew harder to resist despite being scared off by your scent always mixed so deeply with his.

For you, your bf’s heat only heightened your need to claim him in every way possible.

The tension was growing thicker and thicker the longer things went on without you properly laying claim on your mate. Especially now as the other hybrid eyes your mate from the other side of the living room.

Your bf, too caught up in the consuming lust of his heat to notice anything else, still only ever has his hands on you. Sensing her eyes on you, you finally decide to settle this one and for all.

You straddle your bf and he immediately sighs in relief, already needing to have you all over again. You rub against his hardening cock, letting him know you need him now too.

In the blink of an eye he’s flipping you onto your belly, ass high up in the air. His body molding against your own, his loud purring rumbling in your ear.

“Look at you, such a good mate. Taking care of me when I need you so bad,” he coos.

Your eyes flash as you look at the other hybrid. Your tail intertwines with your bf’s and you reach back, rocking back against his aching cock and sinking your claws into him to keep him close. He growls, pawing at your clothes so he can get to you. Your unusual behavior not going unnoticed by him but it only gets him more hot and bothered.

His eyes follow your line of the sigh to the strange hybrid leaving the room in a frenzy and he growls. The heat within him threatening to explode as he realizes what you’re doing.

With a swipe of his paw he shreds the rest of your clothes off. The sight of your glistening fat cunt has his mind spinning. He yanks you closer and sinks his length deep inside you in a long smooth stroke, stretching you out till your insides are burning just as his are.

“And staking claim on your mate too. Such a good girl f’me. Now let me take care of you,” he growls, wanting to properly reward you for showing another Hybrid what’s yours.

You still have your claws in him, keeping close as he desperately fucks his cock into you. The close proximity forcing his thick tip to slam against that soft spot deep inside of you with every hard snap of his hips. You can feel every inch of him against you and it helps soothe the feelings controlling you.

Loud moans and cries of pleasure echo throughout the house form you both. Ensuring the other hybrid can hear. His ribbed length rubs along your gummy walls. The friction has your toes curling and your back arching into him as you meet every thrust.

Every inch of your form shakes as the pleasure he gives you doubles over. Your body practically seizing as he has you coming hard in his cock. But just when you think he might start slowing down, he quickly pins your wrists over your head and rams his length into you.

“I don’t know if she’s gotten the message, little mouse. Might need to make it a little more clear,” he says, a feral glint in his eye.

He fucks you until you forget another hybrid was ever here to begin with. He makes you forget everything besides his name as he forces you to scream it each time he brings you to release.

When his heat ends not longer after, the other hybrid leaves to go back home to her family. You and your bf watch her from afar, his frame hovering on top of yours as your owners happily chat away.

As soon as goodbyes are shared and the door closes, your bf rolls over to pin you against the couch. That look in his eye making you wonder if some of his heat hasn’t totally gone away just yet.

3K notes · View notes

1nthedarknessofthenight · 3 months ago

Text

﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin, part ten.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x f!reader

genre: vampire au

word count: 10,5K

warnings: blood!drinking ⋆ suggestive

masterlist

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A cold, soft breeze ran through your hair, the smell of the water from the river under you tickling your nose. The clashing sounds echoing through the night couldn’t be heard however. You couldn’t hear anything other than your pulse pumping inside your ears. Everything started to turn into a blur before you. You knew this place, it haunted your mind from the moment it happened, turning into an unforgettable memory. You wished to look down, knowing what you would see if you would did so, but everything started to swirl around you. The starry night and the Moon became just a small spot, circle of colors. They let you take in their light, shining down at you, till everything turned clearer, yet darker.

From the small spot that was once the moon became a mere dot, a freckle. You watched the colorful streaks turn into black and white. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, mind too slow to fully take in the changes of scenery before you. Everything that you just saw turned into a pitch black darkness. Your memory was thrown away, too far back into your mind, though the only piece left from it stood there so close to you.

The man’s eyes once blue and vibrant were now an hauntingly white, black pupils staring right into yours. No breeze, not even a whiff of air was felt on your skin, the only air that they was in your lungs. You could feel them expanding, your mouth hanging open to catch a deeper breath. Your eyes fell down to the freckle under his eye and back to his unemotional stare. That wasn’t him…

But his touch felt like his…

You looked down at your hand, sickeningly paler to your usually toned skin. Your world turned dull again it seemed. When you looked into the palm of your hand, you watched as fingers, not your own, appear from the darkness before you. You could feel his body so close to yours, but why did it feel like he wasn’t there at all? You watched the fingers trail over your opened hand, every dip and every wrinkle and then even in the darkness where no light there was, on a ring finger of his hand, glimmered the red stone right back at you. You choked at the color, so vibrant that it blinded you. You knew the ring, the fingers, the hand now holding yours, but it didn’t feel like his.

The softness of his touch — you couldn’t feel it. It was like his hand went through yours, like a ghost. He wasn’t here…you were alone. Your lips parted in a painful gasp, but it never was voiced. A tugging feeling at your heart, so familiar — you were alone. Your eyes started to sting, the vision of your hands joined together just a blur again. Everything around you felt like fire, the void seeped through you like millions of small knives, nitting and licking at your skin.

A tear rolled down your cheek. You felt the loneliness, the pain, realizing he wasn’t real. You were in denial as you looked up at him. His pale skin, white eyes, still glaring right at you. You watched his lips, waiting for even a small noise to come out of them, but nothing. You wished to hear his honeyed voice, watch the way each syllable rolled out of his mouth with a meaning. His hand holding yours — you couldn’t even feel it as your tearful eyes looked at him in wonder.

His right hand raised to your face, staying there for a moment. Every passing second felt like torture to you in this immense darkness. Your heart beated so fast you could hear it echoing around you, filling up this awful silence. His hand trailed down, like cutting through the thick barrier between you two, before it stopped at your neck. Your face turned into horror. His fingers just briefly touching your skin, were painted red.

Your eyes were wide. The thick substance coating them was bright, glistening in the strange light around your bodies. Your heart jumped wildly in your chest as your own hand immediately went to your neck. Your hand raised to your face, shaking, blood pooling into the palm of your hand and trailing down your arm. A sudden shift, pain ran up your body, all the way to the spot on your neck. Your mouth opened in a silent cry, knees buckling beneath you and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling onto them.

Shock, pain, fright and most of all confusion overwhelmed your whole mind. The last bits of air left in your lungs vanished, only leaving you with your lips parted. You don’t hear the way you fell down nor your gasps for oxygen, only your heart beat and whispering…You exchanged yourself to grasp onto him, but you only fell forward as you were met with thin air. You could feel the blood from what seemed like a wound on your neck, trailing down your chest. You couldn’t stop it.

You were alone…he wasn’t there. Those hushed whispers grew louder in your ears, so loud it slowly overlapped the sounds of your pulse. You felt chills run down your spine, not from the pain or your fright, but from the feeling of two sets of eyes watching you from afar…Your tears had stopped by then, so in pain that you couldn’t do anything other than to slowly turn your head to look behind you.

Your chest kept rising wildly, blood pumping through your veins, ready to burst. There wasn’t any light, but you could see it. You could see the dark figure behind you. It was a mass of darkness so deep that the scenery around you almost seemed dull. But you could tell that the darkness didn’t came from nowhere, it came from the person. It was a silhouette of a tall being, it radiated evil, but in a way you couldn’t fight this pull, the hold it had on you. You were frightened, but you couldn’t look away. Its eyes shined at you, red in color, but also amber…then by a blink of an eye it all changed.

You weren’t in the darkness anymore. You were back in the bedroom, laying in bed. Pain disappeared, the tears were gone, colors filling up your vision, but something stayed. A name was on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to call out the name in hopes it would safe you, but you seemed to forget it as soon as your eyes were met with the familiar figure. It stayed there with you, looking at you, piercing through your mind and taking over your own body. It looked at you with its red bloodied eyes from the corner of the room, before it slowly disappeared.

But you could still feel it. It called out to you, your eyes following its aura to the open door to the bedroom. The doors creaked open for you and you couldn’t do anything other than to follow. Your mind was wiped out from any thought, eyes empty. You didn’t feel the cold from the floor on your bare feet nor the roughness of the carpets. You could see its trails of darkness, creating a path for you to take and you did completely and blindly. You passed by doors, walked down the stairs, only set on following this person. Or was it even a person? You didn’t even wonder, you didn’t think, you only do what it says.

It was night, you could tell as the only light in your way were candles. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath and then you opened them again. You stared into the darkness, the same one you have seen before, but now it felt familiar to you. You stopped before an opened door, cold, stone stairs staring right at you, challenging you to take a step closer. You needed to, you felt like you needed to. Your hand grabbed a candlestick from a table next to you, a whisper of your name coming from the void before you. It was so quiet, but it lacked softness, though it only made your body and mind more eager to take a step further to maybe hear it again.

Cold and it got colder the more you descend down the curved stairs. It seeped through your dress, ruffling the dark layered material. Even more colder breeze, like a breath, ran through your hair. You didn’t feel the small stones and debris piercing your feet, your eyes were wide in expectation, glaring into the darkness ahead of you. The light from the candle danced wildly, the wind around you picking up speed, taking away even the one in your lungs again.

You didn’t need to breathe. You needed to only see, you needed to hear the voice say your name again. You felt like a puppet, your own feet taking you further down, like they knew where to lead you. At the last step, your feet were met with freezing, wet ground, the gloom wrapping around you. The light from your candle was the only thing separating you from it. You thought you needed to feel it on your skin, inside you, consuming you whole. You feel its presence again, forming out of the void before you.

You were in a maze, but in some way your body knew the way out. The light hit a stone wall and then another, glistening and reflecting the fire and you realized that they those were columns around you. They held this maze and your mind from crumbling. You could just feel it, right there…The two sets of eyes waiting for you at the end of the path. Their color was so bright and the wind around you decided for you that they shall be your only light.

The candle went out. You surrounded to the darkness that eagerly pulled you in. It was so close to you, you could just reach your hand out. You needed to feel it, your body needed to feel it. It called your name so sweetly, it lured you in, promising the most amazing things and you just couldn’t resist. Your body became his, just floating, but then you finally felt it. You needed to feel the pleasure that it promised you, but instead there was pain again.

It was coming from your heart. Your mind opened, letting in thoughts of confusion and realization. You don’t need it. You don’t need those things this mass of evil kept whispering in your ear. Your eyes blinked, clearing up your vision even if you still couldn’t see. Those eyes haunting you disappear and even if they should’ve been your light you feel relieved to not find them any longer. You don’t hear those voices guiding you, you don’t hear the heavy thumps of your heart, but you do see the light appearing before you, a new one.

It feels warm, but as you seem to come back to your own body, you can’t help, but feel frightened. You don’t want it — you don’t. A heavy breath leaves you as it comes closer and you at that release your need for air. You choke out, gasping, the sounds ringing in your own ears loudly. The light sways before you and you back away slightly from it, though something stops you.

You can see a silhouette of a person holding that light and with your rigid breathing your eyes well up with tears, blocking your way to see the person you truly needed. You stumble, but before you could fell back onto your knees there was something keeping you from doing so. Hands on your waist, his hands. There is the familiar coldness that could be felt even by the layers of clothing and you willingly let your weight rest into the palms of his hands.

You hear him, his voice, right beside your ear. The sound is blocked for a second, but the more he called out to you, the more clearer you hear. “Y/N! Y/N!” His voice sounded rushed, laced with his own fright. You try to breathe, you do, but your body till now finally seems to come back to you. You feel your muscles straining, heart beating rapidly from your gasps for air.

The light which you are holding shakes in your hold, you can’t even hold your own body let alone the heavy candlestick. It slips from your hand, loudly falling down on the ground — you don’t even feel the still hot wax on your skin. “What did you do?” Rasps out the man holding you. The voice, you know it so dearly…Your body is weak and so is his only by the sight of your injured hand, falling with you to your knees. You fight with your own weakness, it made your eyes fall shut for a moment, but your inner senses slowly start to rise back from the depths of your soul. His voice, you need to hear it say your name again.

He doesn’t know what to do. He is frightened by your pale skin, yet cheeks flushed — hot to the touch and your lips almost purple. You are so cold, your body is so heavy in a way it tugs at his heart. You look weak, your breathing is slow and steady now, however your heart is loud and that sound is simply suffocating. His wide eyes, look at your hand, raw and red and then back to your face. He holds you tightly to his chest, other hand softly caressing your cheekbone and even he jumps from your frozen skin. “Y/N.” He says your name again, calling out to you.

You hear him. A warm feeling spreads across your chest, eyes blinking open. “Hyunjin?” You say, mind repeating that name in hopes that he is actually here with you. Your eyes, tearing up from the cold air, look up and your heart swells as he truly seems to be here with you. His face is close to yours, long, dark hair caging you both from the darkness. Yet a warm light shines behind him and the more you look at him, the more you pull yourself closer to it.

“What happened? What are you doing here?” He says to you and you can truly hear him, his voice finally didn’t seem to be miles away from you.

Something comes over you — you feel his hand holding yours, fingers dancing across your skin. His thumb rubs small circles on your cheekbone — you can feel it. Feel his touch, he is here with you. You feel the way the stones on the ground dig into your feet and also your slow intakes of air. You ignore his question, looking up at him with wide eyes and slightly sitting up to take a closer look at him.

His skin, still white, but now seemingly warm. His lips and his freckle — your eyes stop at his. Your own search through them, blue vibrant color piercing you. “Is it you?” You wonder out loud, a small choked noise falling from your lips. “Is it truly you?” Hyunjin looks at you bewildered, shaking his head at your words.

“Yes.” He whispers, putting his hand behind your head to help you look at him. Your body still feels like a dead weight, but he feels small relief, because you can finally at least talk and see. However the way you gaze at him — you look at him with wide eyes, filled with an emotion he quite couldn’t place. “Why are you–“ He wants to know what and why, but you still let his questions be unheard.

“It’s you…” You breathe out, cutting into his sentence. Your own hand tightens its hold on his, but by that you jump out of your skin from the sudden sharp pain. Your eyes fall onto your hand, him letting you take a closer look, but still holding onto you like he is scared that you would just vanished. Though you are the one truly scared that he is just another fragment of your imagination.

Your palm blooms in red spots, skin raw, few specks of wax lingering on your skin. You almost hissed at the burning sensation, you didn’t even notice it till now. You grimace at the pain coming from your bones and muscles, other hand coming from the ground to fall onto your stomach. You let the small stones and dirt smudge onto your dress as your eyes look back to the end of the path. Nothing, absolutely nothing. You don’t feel eyes on you anymore, other than the man’s before you. No whispers taking over your mind, nothing. There is no one there…

You feel the hand still on your cheek, turn your attention back to its owner. “Y/N, talk to me, please…” Hyunjin voice is unsure, confused by your detachment. You look like you are not here at all, staring at him completely emotionless. However the fear you held in your red eyes is obvious to him. His throat is dry by the blank look you give him now.

“I think….I am starting to lose my mind.” You whisper back.

He shakes his head at your words, he is starting to panic. Your body screams in weakness, but also your mind. “Y/N, I don’t understand.” Hyunjin watches you closely, his hand slowly loosening its grip it had on you. You touch your neck, hand shaking and he just sits there for a moment, looking at the way way your wide eyes stare onto your fingers. “What happened? Please, tell me…” He speaks again, fighting the urge to not just shake you in hopes you would wake up from your trance.

“I don’t know myself…” You say, staring down at your hand. There isn’t any blood on your hand. There isn’t anything that would tell you that what you saw was true. You can’t believe that this was just your own head playing tricks on you. No, it wasn’t. There is no way…The dark figure is not here, but you can’t help, but still look around. There truly isn’t any two sets of eyes watching you from the void nor the feeling of his breath at the back of your neck. Was it a dream? Nightmare, though it felt so real that it made goosebumps appear on your skin. “Was I dreaming?” You ask yourself, quietly, but it is heard by the vampire.

Hyunjin followed your eyes, staring into the darkness with you, but finding nothing. Your words spark something in him. Perhaps you were only dreaming, but he himself could tell that wasn’t all. Dreams when you do remember them, can lead to something, they warn you. He can’t muster up the fact that if he wouldn’t be here, you could have injured yourself even more. He has a feeling that this dream wasn’t just any other. “You were sleepwalking, Y/N.” He says, but he also doesn’t want to except this truth. “Has this happened before?”

You shake your head, frowning at the pounding in your head from the small movement. “I have never done it before.” You say. You go back to the time you had something familiar happen to you when you were dreaming of him, but this was more serious. Were you really just sleepwalking? You don’t want to except that, but you did feel quite tired for these past few days and it seems like that it fell on you now.

You look at him and you finally realize how close you are to each other. He held your back by his leg, hand on yours and the other on your face. You blink at him at that, pulling a little away, because you are feeling again drowsy just by his touch. You already know that he is truly here with you and even if you really want to just let yourself fall on to his body, you can’t play with you heart like that.

“You are hurt–“ He states the obvious, pulling your burned hand close to you to have a better look. It stings more by just by looking at it, but you don’t really care about that as your attention is attentively on how he presses his thumb into your pulse, a habit of his. “What did you see?” He asks you.

“I don’t know…” You start, because you really don’t know how to describe it to him. When he appeared, he woke you up from it and also erased everything that just happened. You do remember just parts of it, but the feelings you felt back the couldn’t be repeated anymore. “I saw something — someone, I think. I was following it and it lead me down here…” You want to cry, laugh even at how crazy you sound. “I am going mad–“

“No.” He whispers again, calming you with his sweet voice. “Look at me…” You do by the help of his hand on the back of your head. You can feel his blunt nails, slightly scratching you and it almost feels like you could fall asleep again, but that thought repulsed you. However he doesn’t miss your droopy eyes, fighting against your tired body. “You need to rest.”

You shake your head, making you slightly wake up from your slumber. Sleep was always the one thing you looked the most forward to at the end of the day, but now you are too scared to do so. You are starting to think you are maybe also turning into a vampire by your lack of sleep. You just now realized how much you were missing out on sleep. You would go to bed late, wake up early. Maybe it was really just a dream, because you did have a sleep paralysis after what happened the first night you two met. You also couldn’t sleep... You think you can’t even tell what is real now, because how could you just imagine all of that?

You do know that there is a possibility that someone is actually watching you, but this seemed absurd. You didn’t have any control over your body. You lived in the moment that you can remember, but other than the few memories of your so called dream, you can’t remember anything else. Those amber eyes pooled with red however still haunt you, even now. They didn’t feel like the ones Hyunjin has, they were full of anger, just pure evil.

“Please, I don’t want to–” You say, not missing the concerned frown on his face. You really want to know what he is thinking about, of you at that. He didn’t seem to be that weirded out by your words or doings. Maybe he is also scared, but if so, you can’t tell from his face. “I am scared of falling asleep again.” You admit to him, pulling yourself up to your knees, only to groan in pain.

Your bones feel like they could just crumble under your weight any moment. He sees your struggle, the shaking of your upper body and how your face scrunches up. “Can I touch you?” He ask you, hands falling to his side by your movements, but they still linger around you if you would happen to fall over.

Your eyes momentarily widened by those words, maybe reading a little too much into it, because when you look at him you at that moment understood what he meant. You nod, almost just falling face first into the ground to escape your provocative thoughts. With your still cold skin, you can basically feel your blood rushing to your face that you immediately tug into your chin, but you just knew that you could still see it. He, to your relief doesn’t comment on it, even if he himself quickly realized his words right after. Maybe he should’ve said it differently, but why when he could finally see your face coming back in color.

His moves are slow, letting you know that you could still move away from him, but you only look at him in wonder. His hands fall on to the soft dip of your waist and you nearly pull away, because that touch feels so foreign. He helps you find your balance, digging his long fingers on to the soft rolls of your mid riff. You can’t fight those insecurities rising in you, because you know he can feel how round and squishy you are, though he on the other hand, he never felt anything softer. He cherish the fact you let him touch you like this — every time you did.

When your feet meet the cold floor, your legs jump, how could the cold ground not wake you up? Like those other time you let him carry you like this, your whole body was in his hands. You did wonder how he can lift you up so easily, but being a vampire probably meant that he can lift thousands of you. That thought makes you shiver as well as from the way he pressed your sides together, leaving his hand on your waist, dangerously close to your hip. You look at him momentarily and again you can’t look away from his striking blue eyes.

“What exactly did you see?” He asks you, head tilting down to meet your gaze. He still holds you firmly to him, keeping your shaking body stable.

You go back to the dream, eyes moving around the dark place you are in, only light being the one he is holding in his hand. Your own still burns slightly, the dark, purple fabric of your dress however cooling it down by its softness. “A dark figure, I felt it–“ You swallow painfully the lump in your throat, looking back at him and he listens closely to your every word. “Hyunjin, I am so tired…every time I turn a corner, I think it will appear. I feel it breathing down on my neck…” Your eyes go back and forth between his eyes and the darkness next to him, full of fear from just seeing another glimpse of it. “You must think I am crazy-“

You really do need him. You are going a dark way down, but he is in denial. “You are not, I believe you.” His words hit you, heart jumping at the tone of his voice, it slightly melts your worries away.

You are not sure if he is just trying to keep you calm, but after all that happened, you just can’t take these things so lightly. “What if it is trying to tell me something…” He definitely knows what you are thinking about that, he can’t lie that it also didn’t cross his mind.

Hyunjin’s hold on you tightens. Even if you don’t see him, even is he is in some way avoiding you for some reason you still need to ask him about, he is here for you. Every small tug of your lips, frown, it makes him tremble, ready to burn the whole world down for you just to smile again. “Y/N, I will not let anything happen to you.” He means it, but it felt like a lie telling you that, because something already happened and he didn’t know how to stop it…

“I am not as scared for myself as I am for others…please, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Your own words hurt you, because you can see the expression on his face crack for a second. You just can’t lie about what you are thinking, seeing and feeling anymore. “You have seen what this person can do, maybe it is already taking over me–“ Your lip quivers over your own will.

He is quiet, because you are telling the truth about him not keeping promises. He doesn’t want to think about this horrible person trying to get to you, but how long can he pretend? He wants to give you everything good, he just doesn’t know how and that kills him. No one saw this person and now you maybe did, but he didn’t feel any presence other than yours. You were dreaming, but it must meant something, it didn’t seem like it was coming from you. Someone is playing with you and he can’t even imagine how this all must feel for you. It was all because of him…of his selfishness. He thought that it all would be easy, in a sense that you two would have time for each other and possibly fall in love. But that was just another fairytale in his head, how could he thought he could have it easy when he is vampire and you are human.

“You are cold.” Hyunjin says, stating the obvious yet again and it makes your mind shift back to reality. “I can feel your freezing feet.”

You in confusion look down at your said feet, only finding them pressing into his. You must be crushing him under your weight you thought, immediately putting your feet away, back to the ground. “Sorry.” You say, looking down bashfully.

“Don’t say that word, because we both know, I should be the one saying it.” You know what he means, but you don’t want to comment on it more. He takes a slow step forward, gesturing for you to do the same, but he basically pulled you by himself as he still keeps a tight hold on you. “Come, let me help you–“

He is still looking down at you, not even looking before him to keep his eyes on the path, but you do that for him, because you can’t meet his eye. His stare lingers as you take slow and careful stops. You feel heavy, but you will not surrender to your own weaknesses. The light he is holding in his hand gives you a minimal vision, just enough for you to see your feet dragging across the ground. You don’t even know what this place is, but it sure will be remembered. “Where are we exactly?” You ask, speaking your thoughts out loud.

Hyunjin’s eyes leave you to look around himself, like he had never seen this place before. In a way yes, it’s been a long time since he have been here and for a reason. “The dungeons.” He answers, keeping his answer simple.

Your eyebrows twitch for a moment, gazing into the abyss before you. “Dungeons?” You repeat, tasting the word on your tongue, chills going down your spine.

“Yes, it also was once a castle in my age, we build over it.” You can see that already this was everything you will get out of him. You didn’t think your innocence question could sparkle up something. His face is hard as a stone, eyes not meeting your figure, but his hand around your waist grips tighter. You don’t go further, because there is another, way more important thing that you just now you realized.

“What were you doing here?” You marvel over his profile, seeing his hard jaw softening at your voice. “You were here first.”

“I was looking for something.” Hyunjin answers and that he can tell you why, but now you do not need a further explanation.

“Oh and did you find it?” You ask, almost the ‘what’ slipping past your lips.

He doesn’t answer, stopping in his tracks to look at you. Your words get stuck at the back of your throat. His gaze is intense like always, but the way his hand trails over your waist to your back simply leaves you speechless. You can’t believe you are so moved by such a simple touch, but his are already intense to begin with. He towers over you, hair falling to his face and you at that notice how is hair is loosely put up. You have a full view of his long neck and collarbones — he leaves you again lost for words by his beauty alone.

“Can I touch you?” He repeats again and you can’t fight the small laugh falling from your mouth. It does die down immediately though, your throat dry.

“You already are–“

His eyes light up at your noise of amusement, even if it sounded quite small. Every chance of seeing a small smile on your face is blessing to him. Hyunjin asked for your consent for his own good, because if he would listen to his desires you two would be already in a way different position than the one he puts you in right now. His other hand puts the candlestick, he was holding to the ground, you watching him closely. You nearly choke at the shadow cast on his features, defying them even more. In your state of mesmerization you can’t do much other than to gasp softly as he kneels down before you, only to wrap his other arm around the back of your knees. Your head spins from his fast movements, air wiping you across your face as he picks you up with not too much effort.

You are in shock, looking at him, lips parted. Your faces almost bump into each other and you kind of wished he would tell you firstly why he was asking for your permission. Your side is pressed tightly onto his chest and you could feel his muscles ripping under your hand. Your eyes widened at that, pulling it away to your own chest to calm your heart. His long hair tickles your forehead as you tug your head down to possibly disappear in his body. You felt concerned, about him holding you, because even as a joke when someone tried to do that you would only hurt them. You feel warm inside now, because he didn’t look like your weight mattered to him — at least for carrying you up the stairs, you have to remind yourself.

Never you would never have thought that someone would pick you up like this, especially not someone like him. He didn’t huff or moan in displeasure, only a small breath of his move away the small hairs on your forehead head away. You were scared to move, because his lips would touch your skin if you would do so. You are not repulsed by that idea, but you can only handle this much. He keeps one of his hands on the underside of your knees, tips of his fingers touching your thigh. You remember how they felt on your skin, so soft and gentle with you. In a way it excites you more. You appreciate his patience with you, even if your time together might not be long.

You really do worry about your future more than your present. You should live in the moment and you do, just a little too scared about all of this new things you are experiencing. You are met with darkness again as he walks up the stairs, but there wasn’t any missed beat in his steps. The staircase feels narrow and you don’t even notice yourself how you press more into him to not hit the walls. In the dark you have enough courage to look at him or well try to, pulling your head up from your hiding, thankfully not hitting your head into his chin.

“Do you see in the dark? Like a bat?” You ask him.

His eyes are already on you, smiling softly at your wide eyes, trying so desperately to get even a glimpse of him. “Your questions are always so interesting, love.” His smooth voice hits your ears and you feel every word rumbling out his chest. “–but yes like a bat.”

This new information keeps your mind occupied, till you suddenly see a blooming light from the top of the stairs. You rest your head on his shoulder, just barely grazing it. Him holding you isn’t so bad after all, but that other night — it was too soon, too abrupt that’s why he maybe keeps asking for your permission. Someone holding you should feel warm, however his body temperature will always be otherwise, but you don’t really mind it. He doesn’t feel cold anymore, you think your own skin is even colder than his right now.

The light wasn’t that bright, but it still made your eyes sting, letting you truly see how much darkness you were put through. You didn’t like the dark, it scared you in some way, even before you met him. You somehow always needed some source of light next to you to keep you sane. He though only knew darkness, it was around him and in him — you were truly the only light he needs and will ever need.

He carried you to his workroom and you were silently thankful for the change of environment. It looked the same as you remembered, but it still left you amazed. He moved you further into the room, further than you have been before., however your eyes lingered on his main desk, before they went back to him. Every look of his you cherished in your heart, looking into his eyes, while slowly puts you down on a sofa. Your body dips into the softness bellow you in delight, completely exhausted. You don’t miss how his hands trail over your body before pulling away.

He disappears from your line of sight so quickly you almost have a whiplash. He turned into a blur before you. Small noises were heard from the back of the room, you curiously looking into that direction, but not for too look, because he is again there before you. You blink in shock at how fast he just moved. You have never seen anything like it, you didn’t basically, reflexes too slow to make anything out. It truly fascinates you.

“Let me see your hand.” His body falls next to you, the sofa too small for both of you, leaving your legs to press into each other. He holds out his own hand for you and you put yours onto his without a second thought.

You watch him press a cold, wet towel on your injured hand and you have to bite your lip at the pain. The cold fabric soothes your burning skin right after however as well as his soft touch. He keeps it pressed to your hand with his and you nervously rub in a small gesture of gratitude his skin with your thumb. “Why weren’t you there?” You ask him quietly, looking up at him through your lashes. “You never came back to the bedroom.”

“I did, but you were already asleep.” Hyunjin says, keeping his eyes on your hand. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You promised…” You frown. The sadness in your voice is clear and when his gaze meets your face, you can see how much sorry he truly is. “You promised me that you wouldn’t let me out of your sight then why are you holding back?” He only keeps looking at you glad in the orange hue of the candles. “I started to open up to you…do you know how hard it is for me to do so?” You don’t hold back anymore, maybe because of all that happened moments ago, emotions still all over the place, but also because you can’t ignore anymore how his detachment makes you feel. You know that you are giving him mixed signals. Pulling away yourself and when he also does it you hate it. Can you even justify yourself that this is only because you are not experienced. “Maybe I truly don’t have much time left, you can’t say that I’m wrong–“ You say and you tell yourself that the stinging in your eyes is just your need for sleep. “I just want to spend it with you…” You mumble softly, choking out your words.

He moves even closer to you, suffocating you with his presence alone. You can’t describe it. Those other times you felt like this, could never live out to the way he makes you feel. It scares you, natural instincts telling you to pull away quickly, to not burn yourself again, but you can’t help, but take a small taste after taste. “Can you feel it? The tugging at our hearts?” He says and you breathe out in short breaths when he almost whispers those words to you. “Y/N…if they don’t let us be together, we shall fall together.”

Your face softens, heart swells, pumping wildly in your chest. “Then why are you pulling away from me?” You search for the answer in his eyes that seem to be deeper in color, pupils dialected.

He looks troubled, lips pressing together. “It’s hard for me to be next to you, the more I’m with you, the more I feel the need to–“

Your eyebrows rise in a realization, lips dry as you quickly continue his confession for him. “Bite me?” You say, sounding nearly unsure, but you already know the truth. He already told you multiple times, showed you in some way even. The more you two get around the topic, the more you thought about it.

You remember that in the dream, you feared him for that. Fearing he was just a creature that wants to take you, but as you did get to know him, it started to turn into something else. His lips on your neck, just barely grazing over your skin like yesterday — or maybe he would kiss the spot, before sinking his teeth into you. He would keep you close to his own body, melting both of your skins together, consuming you…your blood.

“But that’s not all, I can also feel your heart and I so desperately want to try its magic.” Said heart skips a beat, hurting from these intense emotions that it wasn’t so used to till now. “But what if they don’t see it either.” Hyunjin is now the one going back to future, face pulling into a grimace, in pain, looking down at your joined hands. “I don’t want to think about the fact that maybe in a few days, I won’t be able to hear it anymore. I know, I can feel you — how hard it is for you to open up for me, but I don’t know if I can be selfish enough to take a bite out of it.” You look at him with a face of disbelief, not being able to find an answer to such words. Your hand flies to your head, throbbing from all these thoughts. He looks up from your hands back at you when you don’t answer him, licking his lips nervously, but it vanishes into thin air when he sees the look of pain. “Y/N?” He speaks your name.

You look at him, lost in his eyes for a moment. You want to say something back, but it feels like you don’t even need to in away. He knows you enough that you don’t speak much, but if did need those answers they would be all reflecting in your eyes. “Sorry, my head is pounding…” You say, hand pressing onto your temple, trying to rub the pain away.

You know that it is mostly because of your lack of sleep and this conversation doesn’t help you that much. Hyunjin can basically see your exhaustion coming from your body. “Is there anything else you didn’t tell me about your dream?” He asks you. He also can’t get your dream out of his head. It didn’t look normal — how your body was anything, but your own and your emotionless eyes staring into his. He lived in a world of black magic and that’s why he in some way doesn’t want to take this lightly either, especially when it comes to you.

You don’t think you can tell him that he was there in the dream with you. Everything was blurry other than his hand holding yours, like it was now. “I don’t know what else to say.” You are not being truthful fully, but you just don’t want to bother his concern-self more.

Hyunjin if he did see through your small lie, he didn’t do anything to indicate it. He could tell that you also didn’t want to talk about it and he must respect that. He watches you — how your frozen feet are tugged beneath you, your rising chest and then your injured hand. He can smell your blood, see it even as the burns start to seep through the cloth. He didn’t realize how much you had actually hurt yourself. He doesn’t even remember physical pain is anymore, but he still thinks you are a little too numb. You just briefly showed a face of pain. It is probably from how tired you are, your head unknowingly to you keeps falling down, eyes screwing shuts, only to open again. Maybe he should be selfish…Get closer to you and stop being so detached, naively thinking it would make things better. He now knows how much you need him just as much he needs you.

An idea comes to him while looking at the stained, white fabric. Maybe it was a little too bold… “I can help you with your pain.”

You don’t try to disagree, because you truly are in pain. You feel weak, tired mentally, you just don’t know what to do. You don’t want to fall asleep, because you might see the mysterious figure again. “How?” You say, voice scratching the back of your throat. You gaze at him with big eyes of plead, desperate for any sort of relief. Hyunjin doesn’t say anything to you back, silently glazing over your soft features, because they might change into something different. Watching him closely as his other hand comes to the one still wrapped around yours, you almost gasp at his unexpected move.

He puts your hand upside down, his other hand going to the one holding yours, just for the nail of his thumb to push into his wrist. Without any hesitation and struggle he pierces his skin, blood pooling out of the small wound. You gasp, softly calling his name. You are lost for words, not so sure what this all means, but you do not jump away. Something about the way he looks at you so softly, makes you calm. You are not afraid . “Drink from me, Y/N.” He says to you, voice quiet to your ears. “Nothing will happen to you. Our blood is a key to turn someone into a vampire, but it also can help a human to ease their mind in a way…like yours can mine.”

You can’t think straight right now, seeing the wound made from his nail closing before your very eyes. This never crossed your mind — drinking his blood. It makes you drowsy, just the thought of your lips wrapping around his skin makes you shiver. He doesn’t mean to look at you this way, but you can tell this idea has already crossed his mind. It feels so intimate…but it doesn’t scare you. It will help you and you were curious enough, giving him a nod in agreement.

The move is minimal and you almost seem to regret it. Not because you don’t want to taste him…but because you just don’t know if your heart can handle it. Blood from the moment you met him became something so fascinating yet horrifying. The night you met, the morning when that horrible thing happened to your dream are nothing compared to the need of consuming it. Hyunjin breathes out deeply, taking in the scent of your own blood — so sweet and from what you could get his was metallic yet poisonous to your senses. Only just the brief look and whiff of his own blood makes you shake, you will now understand what it feels like to him.

His hand leaves yours, softly laying it down on to the dark, flowy skirt of your dress to put his stained wrist to your lips. He hears your heart pick up speed, breath shattering and eyes giving him all the attention. He can’t believe you will taste him, the thought excites him the same amount if the roles were switched. Both of you stare so deeply into each other, the air around you becoming dense and hot. He himself shakes inside as he finally breaches the skin of his wrist again, dragging his nail across to give you more room for your lips to latch onto.

His blood drops onto your bottom lip and without thinking you lick it, metallic taste hitting you immediately. It for a second tastes like any other blood would and you almost make a noise of displeasure, however he at the same moment presses his bleeding wrist to your mouth. “Sink your teeth in to me, to keep the wound open.” Your mouth is full of him, the smell of skin right under your nose. Your eyes flicker to him and without much thought you do as he says, upper teeth sinking into the open wound.

You want to cringe at the feeling of biting his skin raw, but you start to feel strange as you gulp the first flow of his blood down throat. Your eyes close at the strong feeling of power coming over you. You are in shock at how much your body starts to wake up. Your tongue drags eagerly across his skin, moaning into him in pure shock and pleasure. Even if your noise was loud you couldn’t miss his own, deep and almost whiny, watching you so closely that you just have to pull yourself closer to him.

You have never felt something so erotic and full of seduction. The way his body pressed into yours, your hand wrapping around his just to pull him closer to you. His taste was addicting — no metallic and awful taste of blood in your mouth, it was only him now. You needed more. You need him closer to you, you need to drink more from him. It gave you power, body and mind not feeling anything other than pleasure. You are starting to get lost in him, sucking more and more, just to feel with every swallow even more alive.

Hyunjin knew the look on your face all too well. He knew how quickly you could get lost in the taste. The pressure on his skin, how your teeth start to nibble almost at him, it didn’t hurt — quite the opposite. He just in some way can’t wait for you to finally feel it, but also he is afraid that he might not be able to resist the temptation. His own arousal was already showing on his body and when his nose is hit with the scent of your own, his body almost shuts down. He feels the veins inside his body pumping wildly, breaching the thin skin on his face and when your teeth just barely grazed over one particular one he has to pull away.

You don’t hear your own soft sighs of pleasure when he pulls away from you. You can’t catch your breath, but in a good way it seems. You feel drunk, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure you have left before. “Hyunjin I feel-“ You can’t describe it, but your body does it for you. You are flush with heat, fuzzy and — needy. You lick your lips, head falling to the side to stare at him with hooded eyes.

He shakes, hands gripping the cushion under him tightly, almost tearing it from your state. “I know, I am sorry about that — please, don’t look at me like that.” He breathes out, looking away from you to hold on to the last bits of control he has .

You both know what he means. You can feel it, your arousal and he on the other hand is slowly becoming crazy because of it. “Is it your blood doing this to me?” You watch him through your eyes you think, but he looks different to you, more clearer. Your question is unanswered, but you have to gain his attention again, you need to. You pull yourself up, kneeling before him to try and get him to look at you and you do with your next words. “Do you want mine — do you want to taste me?”

He trembles as his voice, trying to push himself away from you, but his body surrounders to you. “Y/N, my blood is playing tricks on you right now.” You don’t even blink at him and he realizes, he gave you way more than you can handle. Your lips are appetizing, red from his blood and eyes glazed over. “It will fade away, I don’t want you to do something you will regret–“ He has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t what you truly want, but when your hands press onto his shoulders, nails digging into his silky shirt, he can’t help, but let you touch him. You both breathe wildly over each other lips, him watching you try to climb onto him, but his senses win and that even shocks him.

He can easily overpower you if he wanted to, run away even, but he chooses to press you back onto the sofa. Your small whimper is quiet, but so sweet. He holds you down not letting you move, even if you still seem to quite enjoy it in some way. He hovers over you from between your legs and has to keep a great composure when you wrap them around his hips. You try so desperately pull him closer, crying out almost in displeasure when he just doesn’t move, even if he sees your dress falling to your hips.

You swallow your saliva mixed with his blood, eagerly trying to get every drop, but there is none left for you to drink. Your hands twitch around his own, him keeping them tightly pinned to your sides. Your breathing calms down a little by little, closed eyes blinking open to look up at him. You sigh deeply from your spot underneath him, even if you did feel your senses coming back to you, you can’t lie that this wasn’t you. You did that from your own will, you wanted it…his blood — it only awaken those dark desires. You feel your face and see his soften. Lips apart as his, your bodies melted into one.

Your mind clears up, but there is still the feeling of your lingering arousal. He sees you come back from the trance, watching your delicious blood going to your face underneath your skin. Hyunjin sighs deeply in relief, hand caressing yours, making you look down at it. He holds out your hand for you to see how it is completely healed now and your eyes widened in amazement. Nothing burns or hurts, you are not tired anymore. You look back at him, face shining in the dim light of the room. He pulls his lips into a smile at your adorable reaction, but you tilted your head away, before you could see it. Something reflected the light and as you turn your head to the side you came across a mirror.

You blink, for a second thinking you are just imagining things, but the reflection still stayed the same. You were the only one in the mirror. “The mirror — I can’t see you.”

You glance back at him, just to be sure he is still here with you. “It’s lined with silver.” He explains to you and your lips part again in understanding. “The only thing that can withstand our powers.”

His powers — from his inhuman strength, speed to his immortality and… “Like compulsion?” You say.

“Yes.”

“That’s why you asked me if I was wearing silver…” You wondered out loud as you back to the night when he appeared on the doorstep. Your lips parted again to ask more, but before you do so, you realized something. You legs are still wrapped around his hips. You swallow nervously, fidgeting for a moment at his unmoving stare. You release the grip you held him in, embarrassed, because his attention also for a second goes to follow your movements. “Tell me, how did you know?” You start, legs bent, but not touching him anymore, however this position maybe looks even more scandalous. “Why did you come to me?”

Your words are whispered, no need for you to talk louder and you are thankful for it. He still holds himself over you, no cramp in his body ruining his chances to see you like this under him. He so desperately tries not to breathe you in as you seem to be finally alright and collected. Your question does make his thoughts shift and he replies to you without any hesitation. “I didn’t know that at the time, I just had this feeling, I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” He will kill you with his honeyed words someday you think. “When I came back to the time when you were looking at me with your horror filled eyes they didn’t shift, your pupils didn’t move. If I would stayed longer, I would probably be able to tell immediately by your heart that it didn’t work…but with Han it did.”

You frown and he already knew you would do that. “You mean Minho?” You try to correct him, but he only shakes his head.

“No, Han…when you were at the club with your friend, well — you really weren’t as sneaky as you thought.” He is almost teasing you, but you only blink at him, still confused.

“I don’t know what you mean….”

“Before your friend found you and after Minho went inside, Han saw you. He firstly made you say why you were watching them so closely.” You put the dots together quickly. Han — that man with puffy cheeks and pouty lips. “You told him the truth and by that he knew you were the one I kept talking about, he made you forget right after…still I had to be sure that this wasn’t just a facade, so I went to see you, sorry for scaring you that night.”

You don’t take his apology too much to heart, because there is another big red flag waving at you. “How did you know where I was?” You try to sound collected you really do, because you can say that you do quite know this man before you, but the fact, he was probably following you…“Were you following me?” You hope that the dream you had, was truly a dream. Though it felt real, like he said he would never hurt you and that dream particularly didn’t end well. Now, you are looking too much into things…

He sighs, running a hand through his hair and sitting back on to his knees. “Are you mad at me?” You are taken back from the way he towers over you and how he smooths down his shirt that clinged to his body, but you still nod.

“Maybe…yes, I am!” You say, sounding like you are almost arguing with yourself. You sit up as well, taking advantage of it to pull the skirt of your dress down, because it had ridden up. “I knew someone was watching me.” You mumble, looking into the distance in thought.

“You do have excellent senses.” You don’t know if it should’ve been a compliment, because the small smirk on his lips is little to cheeky.

You fall into the corner of the couch, looking down at your hand. No scar even, you feel fine, way better in fact. You shake inside when you think back to the moment you two were drunk on each other, you drinking his blood, his noise of pleasure…You can’t think about it too much, because if you would it will only make you more desperate. You do crave someone’s touch, his. Even his hands on your waist made your heart skip a beat and by that you are sure you are not ready for more. Yet…

“Thank you for your blood.” You say, watching him slump his body in a familiar way like you at the other end of the couch.

He only gives you a small smile as welcome. He hopes you don’t see the way his eyes travel up your legs till they stop at your chest. It is a pity he didn’t see you in this dress in a better light, the color and how it draped over your skin looked quite stunning. Hyunjin feels warm inside, because you are finally excepting his gifts without any single thought. Like his wrist…

“Are you hungry?” He asks you suddenly, rather loudly, blinking rapidly.

You don’t know why, but you appreciate such a simple question. “Are you?” You say back, shrugging at his question. The moment it leaves your lips you realize what you said.

He doesn’t take it to his heart, laughing shortly to your delight. You nearly thought he would again vanish from your sight with this question. “Don’t tempt me.” Hyunjin shakes his head at you, standing up. You wish he would see that you were offering. It was bold move from you, you always bite off way more than you could chew. “I can’t drink from you, at least not now.” He mumbles those last words to himself so you don’t heard them or see his lips moving as he turns away from you. “I want you to rest and I promise you that this time I’ll be there with you.” He says, looking over his shoulder at you and you only sigh, before standing up with him to follow his steps.

The time for sleep came quite early. Even if you did have your strength back, thanks to his blood and he also from how he made sure you are well fed, your body pleaded you to take a nap. Your fright of seeing that horrifying image of those bloodied eyes was strong. You spend most of your time just laying on the bed, gazing up to the ceiling, but now you weren’t alone. Hyunjin made a promise and he did fulfill it. He layed on the couch, few feet away from you, his sketchbook in his hands to keep him occupied, because he also couldn’t sleep. His fingers played with the paper in his hands, eyes watching you in the dark and also from the corner of his eye the slightly open window to the balcony. The curtains swayed in the soft breeze, the sounds of trees and nature singing you to sleep. But he on the other hand didn’t find it appealing — how the blue light of the Moon shined inside the room, each sway of curtain showing him the bending trees outside. He didn’t sleep that night just to watch over you and looking out for anything that could harm you. You didn’t woke up, didn’t make a sound and his heart ached, because he realized, he will never again be able to not be next to you.

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cutieeva · 3 months ago

Text

God Of The Chisel

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Detail Sex. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 見る人目の ❜

Sculpture. Molding soul into a form, where art meets emotions. That's the definition for (Y/N), the reason of her learning it, the motivation of her creating such art because she can release her emotions through it yet what happens if she has to create the most beautiful sculpture in the entire world, a sculpture who fell for his own sculpturor.

"So, (Y/N) senpai what sculpture are you going to do this time ?" Itadori Yūji asked clearly excited for his senior's new otherworldly addition to arrive.

"I have no idea this time". She answered, a deep sigh slip her lips as her (E/C) eyes continue to stare at the thin poster of competition.

"Why though ? You are a genius in our major or should I say in Cutieeva university". Kugisaki Nobara replied, chewing the thin end of her paintbrush. "Right Megu-chan ?" The said boy, Fushiguro Megumi nod senselessly busy creating his own carving.

"Look, the competition has clearly said the participators has to sculpture the most beautiful creation the world has yet to seen out of their perspective imaginations and the winner would only be who's sculpture is most well loved by the audience not even judges or critics !!" (Y/N) explained re-reading the poster. "If my art didn't seem beautiful enough to normal eyes than it will be pure humiliation ! Not only for me but for other participators too ! Because it indirectly suggest that us all elite students of art isn't yet good enough to be approved by daily to daily audience only capable to approve to the mediocre judges who stuck by rules and that we are worthlessly wasting money". She expressed her further worries.

"Oh ! I didn't knew it was that deep". Yuji glib laughed.

"Shut up !" Nobora nudged the boy seeing (Y/N) dug fingers on her scale as if she desire to rip hair from the roots.

"(Y/N)-san do not worry. Art is a way to release your emotions not for others to ridicule". Getō Suguru smiled, walking into the art studio earning all four student's attention. "No pressure should be felt or else the art won't be as nearly beautiful as it could be if you do it like you did in the past".

"But Suguru sensei I can't stand the humiliation of losing in front of others so bluntly". Shamefully she down her head.

"Then mold it". (Y/N) tilted her head.

"What do you mean ?" Geto smiled wider.

"Mold your frustration, anger, disappointed, fear on the clay. Use your vivid imagination of horrors and your version of beauty on the sculpture. Use this gift of sculpting to release your emotions so you can at least create something because without creating how can you refine it in the first place ?" The art teacher thoroughly described his most talented student who nod feeling a bit light yet uncertain.

"Also those monkeys are called monkeys for a reason if they don't understand your brilliant art". He added causing Yuji to chuckle.

"They are humans as you, sensei". Megumi mutter loud enough for each to hear.

"Also Fushiguro-San not forget I will be there to inspect your sculpture".

"I know".

"I am reminding it. Just in case". Geto merely smiled at the black head boy glaring at him making other three laugh.

"Ha ! Thank you Suguru sensei and megumi-Chan ! I will do my best". She raised her closed fist in the air.

"Thank us too !" Yuji yelled.

"Thank you Yuji-chan and nobara-chan too". She added giggling at their childish antics finding a new spirit to work with even though in the back of her mind she wonder what will be the result of her emotions molding the clay will be.

In a quiet, isolated white room (Y/N)'s fingers wrapped around the cool, damp clay, she felt an surge of creative energy coursing through her veins. With unwavering focus, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the depths of her imagination. In the darkness, a vision began to take shape— the most breathtakingly beautiful form her mind could conjure. With each gentle touch, the clay yielded to her will, as if alive and responding to her every thought. Her hands moved deftly, sculpting the body, hands, arms, and every delicate detail, just as she envisioned. Time stood still as she became one with the creative process, lost in the pool of her imagination.

Hours passed, or perhaps only moments – (Y/N) was oblivious to the world around her. Her entire being was consumed by the artistic expression unfolding beneath her fingers. Finally, she opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon the emerging masterpiece. Almost half of the body had taken form, and she gasped in wonder, grasping the clay as if to ensure it was real. A soft smile spread across her face as she realized that whatever she was creating was going to be breathtakingly beautiful – a true reflection of the vision that had possessed her. The clay seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her imagination. (Y/N)'s heart swelled with excitement, knowing that she was crafting something extraordinary, a testament to the transformative power of art.

As the day succumbed to the allure of twilight, (Y/N) remained entranced, her fingers moving with a life of their own. The setting sun cast a warm orange glow upon her workspace, but she didn't notice. The stars began to twinkle like diamonds in the night sky, and the moon rose high, bathing the world in a soft, ethereal light. Yet, she continued to create, oblivious to the passage of time. Hours melted away, and the night deepened, however (Y/N)'s focus never wavered. Her body seemed to forget its needs – hunger, fatigue, and thirst became distant memories. Her sole purpose was to bring forth the masterpiece unfolding before her. The clay appeared to respond to her every touch, as if a divine force had taken residence within her.

With each delicate stroke, the sculpture evolved, gaining refinement and nuance. (Y/N)'s hands moved with a precision that bordered on reverence, as if she were channeling the essence of the divine. The air around her seemed to vibrate with creative energy, and the clay itself appeared to pulse with an otherworldly life. In this state of flow, (Y/N) became one with her art, transcending mortality. Her soul merged with the sculpture, infusing it with a spark of the divine. The boundaries between creator and creation blurred, and she became the deity, shaping the clay with an omnipotent touch. Time lost all meaning as she worked tirelessly, sleepless and unrelenting, driven by an insatiable passion to bring forth perfection.

As the next day dawned, her fingers moved with a newfound sense of purpose, her fingers deftly shaping the final details of her masterpiece. The sculpture stood before her, a magnificent form born from her unwavering dedication. Yet, one crucial element remained— the face, the window to the soul, where expression and emotion would breathe life into her creation. Thus, she was about to move to add details when the sun's warm, golden light danced across her art, her (E/C) eyes gaze locked onto her creation, and she felt the weight of reality settle upon her. The world around her snapped into focus, and she beheld her masterpiece in awe.

Transfixed, she reached out a trembling hand to touch the sculpture, as if to ensure it was truly real. However her body finally acknowledged its limits, her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground, exhausted. A soft cry escaped her lips as she left a voice message "Nobara... food... water..." she whispered, voice barely audible.

Despite her physical collapse, an overwhelming sense of joy and pride swelled within her chest, threatening to burst forth. Tears of happiness pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gazed upon her creation, now radiant in the warm sunlight. The sculpture seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her being. (Y/N)'s heart overflowed with a sense of accomplishment, knowing she had poured her very soul into this masterpiece that is yet to be finished.

Moments later Nobara approached Y/N with a gentle smile, carrying a tray laden with food and water, the aroma of nourishment wafted through the air, enticing Y/N's senses. Nobara's eyes sparkled with warmth as she helped Y/N sit up, cradling her head as she offered a refreshing sip of water.

Meanwhile, Yuji's excitement burst forth like a pent-up torrent, his words tumbling out in an effusive stream: "Wow, (Y/N) senpai this is... this is... incredible! The detail, the emotion, the sheer beauty of it! It's like nothing I've ever seen before!" His gaze darted between his senior and the sculpture, his eyes aglow with wonder.

Geto, beaming with pride, nodded his head in approval, his smile stretching from ear to ear. "(Y/N)-san, my student, you have truly outdone yourself. I've never seen such imagination, such skill, such... life breathed into a creation. You've surpassed even my expectations!"

Megumi, usually a silent observer, stood transfixed, his dark blue eyes fixed upon the sculpture as if mesmerized. His gaze seemed to hold a deep reverence, as if the artwork had awakened a part of him long dormant. For once, his quiet nature was not a result of reserve, but rather, utter captivation.

(Y/N) sipped the water and nibbled on the food, her strength slowly returning, she smiled weakly, basking in the praise and admiration of her friends and teacher. The warmth of their words enveloped her, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"I know. This year's grand prize will also be rewarded to our university, won by none other than you, (Y/N) !" Geto's eyes shone with warm and paternal pride. His smile radiated deep satisfaction like his heart had been poured into the sculpture. Unspoken awe. Golden pride.

(Y/N) blush from all the showers of compliment yet she remained a little doubtful as the expression of the face is yet to be crafted dwelling whether the window of the model's will ruin her almost masterpiece.

"Hopefully I can create his expression. I still do not know how or what to shape his expression, hair". Nobora chuckle, sitting near her.

"Do not worry ! We all believe in you. Do your best !" She raised her fist in the air, trying to cheer her friend which she succeed because (Y/N)'s tension dissolved, chewing the food.

"But ! Do not forget to take food because forget award you can't even move your hands if this is how it goes on". Megumi calmly advised.

"Right ! (Y/N) senpai ! Please rest your body". Yuji cheerfully agreed, still captivated by the art with his eyes.

"Thank you. I will". And she did heed to their advise taking full three hours break while laying on her bed with jumble of confusion, thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty inside her mind. She stared blankly at the clay, her fingers poised in mid-air, as if waiting for the familiar spark of inspiration to strike.

However it didn't come.

For the first time, her natural gift seemed to be faltering. She felt like a novice again, fumbling in the dark, unsure of how to mold his expression. The ease with which she usually shaped clay into breathtaking works of art had deserted her. Her eyes, once closed in confident intuition, now snapped open in frustration. Reaching for a sketchbook, (Y/N) began to scribble down ideas, trying to coax her elusive creativity back to the surface. The pencil scratched across the paper, a staccato rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts. She was forced to confront the possibility that her imagination, once a boundless ocean, might have limits after all.

This unfamiliar struggle was like reminiscing her beginning stage again, rediscovering the basics of her craft. The discomfort was palpable, like trying to relearn a forgotten language. Fingers moved hesitantly, as if seeking permission to create, her mind clouded by self-doubt. The sketchbook became a lifeline, a tangible connection to her artistic voice, which seemed to be whispering in a language she could no longer understand.

"I think I should sleep". Trying for hours with no avails she shut her notebook harshly, closing her eyes to drift into the land of dream in hopes of re-freshing her mind and back to her usual gifted self.

(Y/N) unusually found herself standing in a familiar sun-drenched studio, surrounded by half-finished sculptures and scattered tools. Her late mother stood before a work-in-progress, chisel in hand and for odd reasons she approached, curiosity etched on her face, and asked "Mother, what are you doing?"

"I am creating a sculpture, sweet one. I'm bringing this clay to life." A smile curve upon her frown look

(Y/N)'s gaze wandered to a nearby model, posed with elegance, yet lacking an upper torso. "Mother, why is she like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with innocence.

"Oh, my child, I couldn't complete her". Her mother burst into laughter

"Then will it always be like this?" Her younger self tilted her head.

Her mother's expression turned gentle, "No, my dear. Creating art means being patient. When I feel stuck, I pause, enjoy life, and give time for creativity to return to me. It's like a river, flowing and ebbing. I must learn to wait for the tide to come back."

And suddenly the image turn distant and faded into burl letting (Y/N) open her eyes with tears gliding her sides and reality welcome her, a world without her mother.

The memory of her mother's words lingering like a whispered secret with other bitter memories of her coffin flood too spreading a bittersweet taste on her lips. "Mother you never left me. Did you ?" Smiling to her herself she understood the truth : patience was the key. She needed to wait, to let her imagination recharge, and trust that the muse would return to her when the time was right rather than forcing the art to flow.

From the moment on she let go the weight that had been pressing upon her by abandoning the almost-finished sculpture, leaving it to stand silently, a testament to her temporary surrender.

With a newfound sense of freedom, she wandered into the garden, her fingers trailing across the soft petals of blooming flowers. The gentle rustle of leaves and sweet songs of birds enveloped her, calming her mind. Next, she found herself lounging on her bed, surrounded by pillows, lost in the world of games on her console. The vibrant colors and soothing music transported her to a realm where worries didn't exist.

As the day wore on, (Y/N) continued to indulge in the joy of doing nothing. She lazily flipped through the pages of a book, savoring the feel of the paper between her fingers. The words blurred together, but she didn't care – she was too busy basking in the serenity of the moment. Time lost all meaning as she drifted from one leisurely activity to the next. The competition, the sculpture, and her doubts all faded into the background, replaced by a sense of tranquility and release.

Until the creativity flowed back to her motivating her emotions to meet her clay giving birth to the sculpture's expression she always think is the true definition. With renewed inspiration, (Y/N) approached her sculpture, her hands moving with deliberate purpose. She carefully crafted the expression, etching a window to the soul onto the cold, clay body. The eyes, once blank, now sparkled with a deep, inner light, as if the very essence of life had been breathed into them.

The subtle curve of his lips, the gentle tilt of the head, all conspired to reveal the depths of the subject's being. The clay, once mere material, had transformed into a vessel for the human experience and the sculptor stepped back, her gaze swept across the masterpiece, drinking in the nuances of her creation. The world, with all its complexities and emotions, seemed to emanate from this single, silent form.

With a final, gentle touch, she completed the sculpture, infusing it with a sense of vulnerability and strength. The cold body now pulsed with a quiet, inner radiance, as if the very soul of the subject had been laid bare for all to see. In this moment, (Y/N) knew she had created something extraordinary—a window to the human experience, crafted with precision, passion, and patience. The world would soon behold her masterpiece and she was ready to be crowned as the winner of all, surrounded by claps of people.

"But what the name of this model will be ?" Deep in thought she grab her notebook looking at her male utter beautiful sculpture posed in the very same pose she choose before a name pop in her mind and she bestow the name sought to capture the harmony of opposing forces that her sculpture embodied. "Gojo" represented the balance of the five elements or more like five attributes of the human body such as head, body, arm, torse while "Satoru" symbolized the enlightenment and comprehend of his unworldly creation.

"Good". Smiling, she name her creation, granted him an identity, a sense of self that transcended the mere clay and stone even creating a inexplicable connection to herself with the art. "Is this how mother felt granting her pieces names ?" A chuckle escape her lips remembering how the old woman usually call her pieces her children along her own breathing child, (Y/N).

The competition host's voice boomed, "Welcome to the Grand People's Award Choice! Today, you will decide which sculpture reigns supreme!" The crowd murmured in excitement as they began their journey through the exhibition hall.

Sculptures of varying shapes, sizes, and materials dotted the landscape, each one unique and breathtaking in its own right. The host deliberately omitted the artists' names, allowing the art to speak for itself. Amidst the sea of onlookers, the creators themselves blended in, anonymous and eager.

(Y/N) fidgeted, her mind racing with doubts despite her teacher's encouraging words and her friends' reassurances and the crowd flowed around her, something remarkable happened. People would pause, glance at her sculpture, the Gojo Sataru, and then stop dead in their tracks. They couldn't help but be drawn back to the majestic male form, as if an otherworldly deity had been captured in clay.

Whispers spread like wildfire: "This one...this one is something special." Strangers would nod in agreement, their eyes locked on the sculpture's serene face. Even those who attempted to move on to other pieces found themselves inexplicably returning, transfixed by the beauty before them.

As the hours ticked by, a sense of certainty settled over the crowd. It was as if the winner had already been chosen, not by the judges, but by the people themselves. (Y/N)'s anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that the next hours would fly by, bringing the voting to a close and confirming what the crowd had already decided in their hearts.

The countdown clock struck its final moment, and the host's face ignited with a triumphant smile. "The moment of truth has arrived!" he declared, his voice electric with excitement. "The votes are in, and the winner of this Supreme competition will be revealed!"

(Y/N) held her breath, her heart racing like a wild stallion. Her friends offered reassuring pats on the shoulder, but she was too entranced by the host's dramatic pause to notice.

The room hung in suspended animation, the only sound the soft hum of bated breath. And then, a sly smile crept onto the host's lips, like a whispered secret. He parted his lips, and (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat.

"(L/N) (Y/N) from Cutieeva University... Congratulations! You are the champion!" he announced, his voice thundering through the hall like a victorious fanfare.

Pandemonium erupted as (Y/N) stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder. Her friends screamed with joy, hugging her tightly as tears of elation streamed down her face. The host approached her, a congratulatory envelope in hand, and (Y/N) felt like she was soaring on the wings of triumph, her dream finally within grasp. She still can't believe out of all the brilliant universities around the globe did her sculpture won, granting her the award. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a dream, where time blurred and moments merged into a kaleidoscope of emotions. One instant, she was standing frozen, her heart racing with excitement; the next, she was beside the host, basking in the glory of her triumph.

The award felt heavy in her hands, a tangible symbol of her achievement. Thunderous applause enveloped her, a deafening roar that threatened to consume her. She opened her mouth to speak the speech, but her words were lost in the chaos, barely audible even to herself.

Before she knew it, she was swept away by a tide of well-wishers —friends, classmates, teachers, and even her principal — all beaming with pride, cheering her as the pride of their school. The celebration was a whirlwind, a colorful blur of laughter, tears, and congratulations.

And then, suddenly, she found herself alone, sitting on her bed, surrounded by the quiet of the night. The moon cast an ethereal glow, illuminating her room with an otherworldly light. She breathed in deeply, the stillness a balm to her frazzled nerves and she gazed out the window, a slow smile spread across her face. It had happened. She had won. The realization dawned on her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Mother ! I have achieved what I wanted". She said gazing fondly at the frame of her mother, settling the golden award beside it. Everything is perfect and will be. Right ? Because little did she know, this moment of triumph was only the beginning of a dark and twisted journey.

From that moment on, (Y/N)'s sculpture became a global sensation, drawing thousands of tourists to the university gallery. At first, she was ecstatic, basking in the glory of her creation's viral fame. She had won awards before, yet never had her work resonated with so many people worldwide. With pride, she showcased her masterpiece to art enthusiasts, critics, and curious onlookers. She reveled in their admiration, laughing and joking about being a "deity" who had created such a stunning work. However as time passed, a creeping sense of unease began to shadow her joy.

The whispers started innocently enough of

"How handsome he is!"

"I wish he was real!"

"Oh god, why couldn't I meet such a man?"

"Why the god didn't create such wonderful man ?"

"Hopefully he come to life".

"If I could then I would sacrifice my everything to see this man alive".

"Ah ! Why can't he come alive".

Hoever soon, the comments took on a life of their own, echoing in her mind like a mantra. She began to feel like she was losing control, as if her own creation had taken on a persona of its own. The praise, once music to her ears, now felt like a dark omen. She started to wonder if she had unleashed something sinister into the world. The constant attention, the endless scrutiny, and the obsessive admiration began to suffocate her. The deity joke wasn't funny anymore. It felt like a haunting prophecy.

A desolate realm of darkness she could see along the suffocating void that crushed her beneath its oppressive weight. The air was heavy with the stench of malevolent presence, and she sense of eyes upon her, boring into her very soul. In mist of that a voce came, first the voice was a distant whisper, a faint rustling of dry leaves that seemed to carry on the wind however it grew louder, more urgent, until turning a maddening chant that echoed through her mind. A single, raspy voice, repeating a phrase that seemed to draw closer with each iteration, its words indistinguishable but its sinister intent clear.

The voice was a cold breeze on the back of her neck. (Y/N) tried to flee, but her legs were leaden, her body trapped in a living nightmare. And then, the voice whispered a single, chilling phrase, its tone a masterful blend of malice and seduction "Gojo Sataru."

The name exploded in her mind like a firework of terror, shattering the fragile remnants of her sanity. (Y/N) jolted awake, her eyes wide with horror, her lips frozen in a silent scream. Sweat dripped from her brow like blood from a wound, her heart racing with a fear that threatened to consume her whole. For a moment, she lay there, paralyzed with terror, the darkness of her dream still clinging to her like a shroud. Then, she sat up with a gasp, her eyes scanning the room frantically, as if searching for an escape from the terror that still lingered in her mind, waiting to pounce.

"What is going on ?" (Y/N) ask feeling alike an mad woman slowly descending into madness. In fear she didn't closed her eyes for moment, staring blankly at the ceiling or sometimes sketching a new art mindlessly to distract her disturbed mind.

In no time sun made it's presence known, offering bit of warmth to all and each even to (Y/N) who felt comfort to the golden rays before her ringtone took her attention. Answering the phone she greeted. "Good morning, Geto sensei".

"Good morning, (Y/N)-San, but could you please come to the university gallery ?" Hearing this a frown knitted her brows and she check her wrist watch. 5:00 am.

"So early if I may ask ?"

"Actually". He paused as if unsure what to speak "Please it's urgent". Understanding the hastily tone she agreed, doing a brief wash and clothes change she went to the location asked and oh dear, (Y/N) wasn't expecting the overwhelming amount of crowd standing outside her art gallery. Spotting her teacher she stood nearby.

"Sir, what's going on ?" Her (E/C) eyes dart from the crowd to her teacher.

"Well". Sheepishly the teacher tilted his head. "They came to see your sculpture". Earning a loud grasp from her.

"T-They ? You mean all ?" She stutter.

"All". Geto smiled nervously as if he finding his own words strange.

"So early in the morning and so many ?" Geto nod again.

"What in the world..." (Y/N) tailed off unable to comprehend the situation of what's going on, yes, she admits herself this particular art is special, a living masterpiece basically yet the amount of spotlight seems unnecessary, uncomfortable and— her thoughts went back to the nightmare she woke up— and strange.

"So, (Y/N) please guide the people. I have no choice but to let them in, you know". His smile strained and the girl knew there was not much say she has so she nod wordlessly standing in front of the glass door, a wall between the people and her. The glass door slid open with a soft whoosh, unleashing a torrent of humanity into the gallery. Hundreds of people poured in, their faces alight with excitement, smiles, and eagerness. The air was electric with anticipation, a palpable sense of wonder that was almost tangible.

(Y/N) stood at the forefront, a forced smile plastered on her face as she greeted the throngs of visitors. She waved her hand graciously, guiding them towards her sculpture, the centerpiece of the exhibition. Her eyes darted back and forth, her mind racing with a growing sense of unease and she stood before her creation, a strange, unsettling feeling washed over her. She couldn't bring herself to look at her own creation, her gaze skittering away like a frightened animal. The sculpture, once her pride and joy, now seemed to loom over her, its presence oppressive and menacing.

(Y/N)'s smile faltered, her lips trembling ever so slightly. She felt like a puppeteer whose strings had been cut, her control over the situation slipping away. The crowd's excitement and admiration only added to her growing sense of discomfort, their eagerness to behold her creation now feeling like a suffocating weight. With a Herculean effort, (Y/N) raised her eyes, her gaze finally meeting the sculpture's serene, enigmatic face. Rather of pride, she felt a shiver run down her spine, as if she was staring into the abyss itself despite his face turned to the other side.

"Miss (L/N), with what thought you created this masterpiece ?" A young woman asked within the mist of people.

"Masterpiece ?" (Y/N) mutter under her breath tasting a bitterness. "Well, it came naturally". She replied smiling and staring at the woman's eyes.

"Amazing !" One of them compliment.

"Then Miss (L/N), had you thought the model will be this viral ?" A young man this time asked.

"Never". She answered holding her tremble.

"Then, what motivate you to create such man ? Is he a real man or a part of your imagination ?" Another asked who's face (Y/N) unable to see.

"As the rules of competition. All of the participators had to bring their imagination out into the clay so did I". Calm her voice and confident her (E/C) eyes.

"So Miss (L/N) how long did it take to make you ?"

"Miss (L/N) were you always inspired to make someone of it ?"

"Miss (L/N) are you aware of the name we call you ? The deity ?"

"Miss (L/N), any hint of inspiration in process of making him ?"

One after another the questions jumped from one man to another to another that (Y/N) lips didn't had the time to even open eventually the cacophony of voices and laughter merging into a distant, muffled din. The room began to spin, and she felt herself becoming detached, as if floating above the chaos. The excitement and admiration of the crowd now seemed like a distant hum, a buzzing in her ears that threatened to consume her. With a sense of morbid curiosity, (Y/N) dared to glance at her sculpture, the root of all the chaos. Her heart raced and from the tail of her eyes locking onto its serene, enigmatic face.

And then, she saw it. Or thought she saw it. His eyes, once mere clay and stone, seemed to flicker with life. They moved, ever so slightly, as if connecting with hers. The room froze, time standing still as (Y/N)'s heart sank like a stone.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her mind reeling in horror. It was impossible, yet she swore she saw it. The eyes, once lifeless, now seemed to hold a spark of consciousness, a glimmer of awareness that was not of this world.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat, her voice trapped in a silent scream. She stumbled backward, her eyes fixed on the sculpture, her mind racing with the implications. The crowd's din returned, but she didn't hear it. She was lost in the abyss of her own terror, staring into the eyes of her creation, which now seemed to stare back.

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"(Y/N) senpai ?" Snap ! (Y/N) looked at the familiar call of her best friend Yuji running towards her, holding her hand worried. "Are you alright ?" His voice ringed yet her care is about the sculpture, about the man !

Slowly she turn her head, finger point to his face only to blink twice and find the lifeless eyes as it belonged unlike the glimpse of terror she saw.

Confusion.

Betrayed.

Madness.

Alone.

Did no one saw that ? Did even she saw that ? But it's liveless right ? It's a mold of clay, a non-living thing yet why ? How ? What is going on ? (Y/N) mind spin threatening to burst any moment.

"Yuji, I-I am not okay". Her words stutter and she lean on his strength.

"Understood". Yuji sprang into action, bellowing at the crowd to part and make way unlike (Y/N) who couldn't process the commotion, her mind reeling like a maelstrom. She felt her grip on reality begin to slip, her thoughts spiraling into a vortex of doubt and terror. Was she truly seeing things, or was her own sanity unraveling? The world around her became a blur, as if she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Yuji's voice grew distant, a fading echo as (Y/N)'s consciousness teetered on the edge of collapse.

"High blood pressure, high stress level and sleep deprivation". Ieiri Shōko said, with a sigh looking at the chat. "It's a dangerous combination, (Y/N)-san that's why rest your body". Before glaring at her teacher Geto. "And you ! who even gave you the permission to be a teacher huh ? If you can't act like one ?" Her raspy voice and judgmental eyes send daggers in his way.

"I am sorry, (Y/N)-San, I didn't know I was creating pressure for you". Guilty written over his face as he ease his frown.

Megumi commented "Well, you as a teacher should know yourself". Right away avert his gaze to not meet his glare.

"It's alright. My fault. I should have voiced out my problem but I really think I need rest". Indeed (Y/N) felt the need to relax after seeing the movement never will she ever recover the horror her heart felt.

Nothingness. No hint of light, nothing at all. A silent void of nullity only suddenly, two glints of light materialized, like sapphires bursting forth from the shadows. The brightest blue she had ever seen, piercing and vivid, locked onto her. Eyes, hidden until now, stared directly into her soul. A whisper, a murmur, a voice she couldn't decipher, grew in intensity, swelling to a deafening crescendo. The words remained elusive, but the urgency was unmistakable. She strained to comprehend, her heart racing, until the sound shattered the darkness, jolting her awake with a silent scream, as if her own soul was being torn from her throat, leaving her gasping in terror, her breaths coming in ragged, desperate gulps, like a dying thing clawing its way back from the abyss.

"What was that ? I never saw those eyes—" She pause recalling the vivid eyes. "I didn't or did I ?" Oddly enough her mind went to her own sculpture. "His eyes, his lifeless eyes". Repeating the thought in her mind, She threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold floor.

"It can't be". She hoped. "It shouldn't be, it must not be". Like a protection mantra she chanted it sprinting to the exhibition where her once masterpiece to nightmare stand on and she somehow unlock the door and run to stand in front of her model, Gojo Sataru in the darkness she was begin to spiral and to her denial the moon cast an eerie glow through the window, illuminating the sculpture's face. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as her (E/C) eyes bore into its eyes and saw nothing. No color, no sparkle, just emptiness like it should be. "Ha ! I knew it. It was another my imagination working too much". With a scoff she breath properly ignoring her intitution of feeling not being alone in this room so she walk away quietly yet quickly escaping from the burning empty eyes of the sculptures.

The night wore on, a sleepless vigil, as her fingers held the pencil scratched across the paper, trying to capture the haunting blue eyes that lingered in her mind. The memory of their piercing gaze refused to fade, fueling her creativity as she sketched into the wee hours. Just as the first light of dawn crept in, her friend arrived, bearing the missed class lessons and a gentle smile.

"Here, I am giving you all you need". Nobara pat her head, able to point out dark circles in her friend's eyes.

"Thank you a lot". Gratitude mingled with exhaustion and her hands accepted the offering, placing it in the wooden desk where her eyes caught the shining golden award she forget to keep somewhere else due to the chaos happening.

"By the way (Y/N) I also wanted you to know today your sculpture would be the model for beginner students to learn how to create the perfect body, arms and you know basics". Her hands move with the notion earning a smile over (Y/N)'s lips.

"Understood". She didn't, she didn't understood the meaning behind seeing the same art so many times anymore. Why can't people move on, go, see some other new, fresh and normal art unlike her strange, hauntingly beautiful one. That's when the curiosity to see the art awaken, for unknown reason she desperately wants to see or perhaps it was the promise of safety in numbers she asked to go along with her.

(Y/N) strolled hand in hand with Nobara towards the exhibition, the warm light danced across her skin, a comforting sensation she savored. "Let's go in". Reached the glass door Nobara said touch the doorhandle and about to open breaking the space between them when her (E/C) eyes dare peek through her lashes to the glass exterior and her her serenity, sanity shattered because for a fleeting instant, the hands of the stone seemed to twitch, fingers trembling, arms stiffening, like a macabre puppet springing to life. The horror of her nightmare resurfaced, threatening to consume her. Madness lurked, its dark tendrils creeping closer.

Averting her gaze, she felt her grip on reality falter once again. With shaking hands and a voice barely above a whisper, she stammered "I am sorry...I suddenly feel sick. I need to rest".

Without awaiting Nobara's response, she turned and fled, leaving the girl worried and tense, her eyes wide with concern as she called out however (Y/N) was already gone, vanished into the crowd, pursued by the demons of her own mind.

"This is happening again. It moved right in front of my eyes, in front of Nabora and others too !" Claps her palm to her mouth she tightly close her eyes, sitting on her bed and without a second thought opened the wooden drawer taking few pills of sleeping pills and drank in rapid speed.

"I need a dreamless sleep, I need a dreamless sleep". Repeating she lay on the cold fabric of bed and close her eyes.

Darkness enveloped her sight, a suffocating shroud that obscured all else And then, like specters emerging from the void, a pair of pale hands materialized before her. They glowed with an ethereal light, as if the darkness itself had taken on a life of its own. The hands, unmistakably male, reached out with an unsettling gentleness, his fingers tracing the contours of her body. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as the hands caressed her, his touch leaving her skin crawling with unease. She tried to recoil yet the palm tightly held her waist in it's root however she tried to move again that's when a low, velvety voice unfolded like a dark flower, its laughter echoing through the shadows like a predator's taunt along the blue eyes snapped open, blazing with an otherworldly intensity. Those cerulean orbs incinerated her defenses, laying bare her soul like a ravaged landscape despite clothes attached to her body.

"How cute you are trying to run away ?" His sinister voice carried like wind coming from behind to front or from nothing to assume.

Slowly his hands caress her visible neck, lacing with curiosity and desire. Tracing the curve of her side to the front from her chin to pausing at the collarbone unleashing a chill that seeped into her bones. Disgust and fear entwined, a toxic embrace that left her paralyzed, her heart a wild animal racing against her ribs and almost as if he could smell the fear those gleaming eyes smile into crescent moon and frosty fingers unbutton her night shirt one by one swelling tears in her eyes.

"No. Please. No. Please". She preyed to each and every god she knew the existence of, hoping to be saved by the creation she created by her own hands. Spared by the humiliation she might face by the monster and—Snap ! Her eyes jolt open to a world that is too bright, too loud. The screeching alarm pierced her eardrums, a forgotten relic of a previous night's routine. As she struggled to sit up, the harsh light overhead stabbed at her eyes, making her squint and shield her face with a groggy hand.

Tear drops silently land on her lap, soaking the fabric with her sorrows she experienced and unconsciously her hand went to her chest making her breath hitched because the two first buttons of her shirt is separated leaving her to wonder the line between her reality and nightmare erasing. "What is happening ? Why is this happening ?" Fingers dug inside her hair to the roots, only helpless questions is jumbled on her mind with unanswered and those question will remain more unanswered when increasingly she unmistakenly gets glimpse of the model and her blood run cold witnessing the torso seemed to twist, ever so slightly, like a snake slithering through grass and that very same night she is laying on her bed, inside her nothing of dream joined by the pair of hands, alive eyes, cold hard torse crawling above her warmth of skin exporling her body as if she belonged to him, violently the privacy (Y/N) wants to keep and when she teetered on the brink of death. The alarm clock screamed, shattering the spell, saving her at the same time lingering the terror.

The next time she didn't gave the chance her eyes could to see her sculpture anywhere from her phone, to her poster, she even avoiding going out frighten by the fact to see him coming alive however fate speaks otherwise accidentally letting her eyes meet the flicker of the monster named Gojo Sataru and finally along his legs twitched, its entire body began to stir, like a creature awakening from a centuries-long slumber. (Y/N) watched in pure horror, her mind reeling, as the once-inanimate object now moved with a sinister purpose. Feeling her own life force ebbing away, as if the sculpture's newfound vitality was draining her very existence and known echoed in her mind "This is the end. I'm staring death in the face."

Desperate to escape the terror from going to sleep, (Y/N) tried to distract herself. Fingers grabbed her sketchbook, but her pencils trembled in her hand, unable to capture the beauty of art amidst such evil however eyes moved to watched entertainment shows only to feel the laughter and music seemed hollow, a cruel mockery of her fear. Even old videos of her parents, once a source of comfort, now seemed distant, unable to shield her from the encroaching darkness waiting to pounch.

No matter what she did, her eyelids grew heavy, threatening to surrender to sleep despite the knowledge that if she succumbed to sleep, the sculpture would claim her. So she fought, hard and limit past her strength. She'd rather die awake, than let the darkness consume her.

Despite her valiant efforts, (Y/N)'s eyelids finally betrayed her, succumbing to the relentless pull of exhaustion and the last thing she saw was her mother smiling face holding her younger self's hand in the video.

This time when she faced the void of nothingness, she has complex layers of emotions piling one after another. Fear of what might bound to happen, confusion of why or how's this situation is even occurring to her so many times, regret of creating a monster she mistakenly did and little calm of at least knowing what's about to come in front yet she wasn't ready to face the tide like all ship captains are no matter how much they nagivate above the ocean, they fear bear fear and the darkness coalesced, swirling around itself like a vortex of ink, deepening into an abyssal void. It churned and eddied, alike creating a pathway for the entity that lurked beyond the shadows. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation, as the darkness parted like a curtain, revealing a glimpse of what lay beyond. Slowly, the entity began to take form, its presence unfolding, no longer just fragments of limbs or eyes, but its entire self, a being of unutterable horror, emerged from the shadows. The darkness swirled around it, a mad dance of tendrils, as if worshiping the monstrosity that now stood before (Y/N).

Gojo Saturu, her sculpture moving in flesh and form of an living human. A vision of devastating beauty that the viewers oh so desired. His lips in a perpetual smirk while his sapphire eyes look straight into his creator's soul.

"Hello, my creator". He mockingly greet, voice smooth flowing to (Y/N)'s ears. "Nice to meet ya". He giggle at the end as his own comment was funny. "I was oh so waiting to meet. Took so long". His long legs march forward to (Y/N) who is frozen, breathing hard to have her creation talk to her.

His face lean forward inching almost few inches apart to where her (E/C) could see his unblemished and smooth skin like she curved out of her fingers, well she bestowed him everything but flaw, a mistake on her part and a power to his. Deliberately his slender pale finger tips touch her cheek—her imperfect skin. She fully embraced to shiver by his coldness yet it was oddly warm causing her eyes wide filling questions in them.

He wordlessly smiled further, cupping her entire face on his both palm like one would to their deity. Thumps ever so slightly stroke her skin. "You must be dying to know the truth ? How I created ? Breath to live ?" His eyes flicker to hers. She choose to not say.

"Well, it's cause you, all because of you and those humans. Their hopes, admiration, wishes and your believe of me springing to live manifest into a unseen force, a force of blending your believes turning and fueling my life from mere stones. The moment you believed my eyes moved, my eyes spring into live, you believed my hands twitch it gave me life and slowly little by little you were all along bringing me life. My creator, my love. My eve of life". Stretching his lips ear to ear he close their distance, enveloping her lips.

Astonishing her and letting her limbs finally protest against the unwanted touch yet his hands larger, faster, stronger that held her both wrist in one palm, focusing solely on devouring her lips and wrapping tongue above one another, swirling like the taste of saliva and sucking breath out of her leaving her utterly surrender and vulnerable. (Y/N) suffocated by the soul draining kiss she kicked his any part only for him to remain unyielding and finally when he deem to be satisfied he seprated their lips with a glistening string of saliva linked and heavy breathing followed.

"Is this how it feels to need air ?" A husky laugh bubble out of his throat. "Then it's addicting". The sly smile stayed as he branded her skin with tender kisses, tracing a path of desire. The soft curve of her cheek, the tantalizing corner of her lips, the delicate slope of her chin, the whisper-soft lids of her eyes, and the gentle expanse of her forehead like marking her his.

"Stop. Stop all of this madness. Why are you doing this ? If you want to kill me then kill me already why torture me ?" Desperate her breath brush aganist his skin, fearful written on her eyes.

"Aww, there is a misunderstanding between us love, a grave one". He dramatically chuckle. "Why would I want to kill my own creator when you are the reason I even form an shape ? And torture ? Is this torture when I am soaking you in love. This is my passion for you. My burning desire for you". Yearning his brightest shade of eyes hold and rather of feeling moved all she felt was forced.

"But I do not want". Tears prickly down her eyes, watering her vision. "I really do not want this". She threw her head back, moving as her physical self can.

"It's okay. You do love me because if you don't then you wouldn't have created me so love me. Like you are suppose to. Bear the consequences of your actions, darling". Shushing her lips with his finger, he gently kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck and descend in downwards ignoring all of her pleads, protest and fight. Eventually his lips brush against her collarbone and ever so gently he suck the skin purple and red moving to the valley of her chest.

His free hand cup the breast through her dress ignited an fire and blood rush to his pants. Tearing her shirt scattering her buttons he came to face with her lovely bra, the only shield protecting against being bare yet he with ease snatch that away. Laying her upper body to feast by those eyes.

"Hmm" A groan slip past his lips from merely stare at those breast and the outline of her body with the way her blush expression, tears streaming, hands tied by his palm, hair spread beneath her was a divine sight than himself. Oh how he recall watching her from his stone form and yearn to touch those skin which he is now relishing.

Shamelessly his large palm cup her breast earning a sweet whimper and dive to taste if it's sweet as her lips and he was beyond ecstatic, twisting the bud as he please and sucking whole even biting with his canines enjoying the melody of her sobbing and her warmth skin. Before jumping to the another untouched one claiming his like it belonged and butterflies kisses on the entire breasts.

To lacing his tongue on her center of skin, tailing down and stopping at her stomach pecking each imperfect and perfect spots covering her whole. How couldn't he ? If he was served with a human like her, (Y/N) who is in his eyes the prettiest girl to even laid eyes on.

While she is on other end of hell, despising the kisses like an lava drops, burning with a fiery hatred that left her scarred. Every touch was a toxic assault, poisoning her senses and corroding her soul. His lips were venomous serpents, injecting deadly venom into her veins with each caress. His hands are acid, dripping with malice as they crawled across her skin. She couldn't and didn't felt a loving sense from him let alone love he was confessing about. Nightmare his life is.

And he knew about. Knew perfectly of her hatred, pain and still choose to love her because she does love him. She just doesn't know herself or he will make her. That's why he is mastering the very skill to pleasure her in ways a woman could be by ripping her only thread of cloth wrapped around her hip and fully nude her.

Viewing her lay bare, all nude couldn't conceal the heart crafting on Gojo's eyes and the madness smile heating his pale skin. Swiftly he dug his head in between of her legs, inside the clit his cum will enter. Well, for later because now his mouth was engulfed inside, tongue forcefully rip inside to taste the creamy fluids his love made of making her grasp and thrash around more harder than she could.

Even squirming underneath him only to prove fruitless while he continue to taste her juices, eating as if it's a delicacy itself, swallowing down and circling his tongue inside her tight walls, loving every bit of it however his patience comes to end making him pull out his flesh with dripping saliva and ran his fingers past his hair.

"P-Please. Please spare me. Please..." Her voices somewhere blended with her sobbed sorrows and her grasp when he impatiently without preparation unbuckle his restrictions, pulling out his shaft and pierce straight inside her walls.

Arching her back and cry out a scream she felt utter hopeless and pain coursing through her limbs. "It hurts ! I-it hurts". Dragging her air she wail. "It hurts please Gojo. It hurts". pricked at his name Gojo shush her more, whispering sweet nothings like an lover not a rapist he is and claim her lips once more. Even stealing her right to speak.

Heartlessly he slam his throbbing shaft again and again, groaning within the kiss and savouring the feeling. "Ah ! Is this what feels to have sex ? Because if it is then I would do it again and again". Tilting his head, Gojo separated his lips and eventually his hips came to stuttering as he cum inside without a care of world unlike (Y/N) who's heart rattled under her ribcage.

"No ! No ! No ! No ! No ! You monster ! What did you do ?" In disbelief she kicked her tireless legs and dug her nails on his soft skin. Anger filling her mind. "I can be pregnant !" She cried out.

"Really ?" Honestly he asked, laughing. "Then I should do it properly". With that the horrors repeated with his hips penetrate her clit deeper.

Her lips parted echoing her scream along her eyes snap open. Her body jolt up from her bed and gasping for air as if she'd been underwater for too long. Her chest heaved, and her eyes frantically scanned the familiar surroundings of her room. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, a testament to the terror she had endured. "Wai—I am wearing my clothes. Does that mean ?" As reality set in, a wave of relief washed over her—it was just a nightmare, a twisted episode of her own madness, nothing more. Smiling to herself she craved the comfort of her friends so with a sense of urgency, she rushed to their room, catching a glimpse of them at the exhibition hall. She burst in, smiling wider and navigated through the crowd. Her eyes locked onto Nabora, and she grasped her best friend's hand like a lifeline.

"Good morning (Y/N)". Cheerfully she greeted.

"Good morning to you too". She breathed. "I had a nightmare". Her voice confessed. "Believe me or not the worst one".

"What do you mean". Concern fill the girl's face and (Y/N)'s lips about to elaborate when a pair of hands— disgustingly familiar and unsettling— wrapped around her shoulders from behind. A low, husky voice whispered in her ear.

"A nightmare huh ?" Gojo's words dripped with an unsettling intimacy, his tone implying secrets shared and terrors unspoken washing cold bucket of water over her head.

How ?

What ?

Impossible ?

"Right ! Gojo senpai, help your girlfriend ! She is in need of your help". Nobara spoke in an familiar tone to which he replied "of course".

"B-Boyfriend ?" Her words stutter.

"Oh ! Sorry not boyfriend. Fiancé !" She facepalmed herself laughing. Alone. Not with (Y/N) who's questions and terrors trapped in the vice of his embrace.

Leaning closely Gojo tucked her shirt a little making her aware of the intimacy marks she was blind to miss and whispered the bitter truth. "I have become the god of the chisel".

FIN

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