#how fast can I write. let’s all find out let’s see if I can break the currently standing record
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ongreenergrasses · 17 hours ago
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annie cresta week has me Scrambling
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tojicide · 1 month ago
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⠀ REMIND ME! ☆ SYLUS QIN.
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summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.
warnings. fem!reader. nsfw, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral sex (female receiving) because sylus is a munch, doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare
wc. 6.1k
note. … so, this is my first time writing on this platform. i do not stand by anyone’s depicted behavior but… what can i say? I love an unconventional concept. ^.^ see you at the bottom!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
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Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.
He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.
The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.
Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.
If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.
He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because it truly was a blessing and a curse.
For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once gotten to your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.
Surprise is etched across your face as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open even further. “What the fu—”
“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.
“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.
Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. He hated the look you were giving him, the one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like one).
“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”
“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”
“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”
You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.
“He isn’t here.”
“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.
Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.
And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.
You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”
“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, his eyes scanning your bedroom.
A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding.
Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.
“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.
He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”
You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.
A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.
“I see you went shopping,” he mumbled, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”
You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”
“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”
Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.
“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.
“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.
Your eyes flit away at that. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”
He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.
“I am what your heart truly desires,” he lowly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”
Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.
In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”
“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone now. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”
He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”
Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.
“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you huff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.
“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.
“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”
Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.
“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”
“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”
That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.
It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.
Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering on your hand. “So, so beautiful.”
Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.
Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.
Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.
“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.
Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.
He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.
“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”
Your eyebrows raise. ��How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”
“I know you, baby. That’s how.”
A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms over his broad chest, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”
His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.
“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.
Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that.
He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.
“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”
Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.
Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.
“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”
You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.
You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.
Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.
Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.
You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.
“No response for me?” he asks.
You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.
You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, and Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.
As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, and the sight of the pink fabric clothing your pussy is enough to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.
“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”
If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)
“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his glowing red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”
Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.
“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”
He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”
“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.
“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”
You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.
It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.
Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.
“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”
You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.
(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)
Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.
(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)
His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot of fabric.
Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.
“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the fabric down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.
He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.
“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.
You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.
A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.
He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.
Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.
“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”
You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.
“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”
“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”
Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.
“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”
As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.
“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”
When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.
Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.
(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)
One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”
Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.
Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.
Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.
“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”
You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyes beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.
Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”
You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.
That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.
“That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”
Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.
“Such a needy little thing,” he purrs, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby.”
You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.
“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”
“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re gonna have to prove it, baby.”
Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.
“How?” you ask.
He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.
“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.
Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the fabric decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.
“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.
“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.
You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.
It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.
“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his cock, and your phone.
He snickers, and he flips you onto your stomach, his hands grasping onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”
“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.
Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.
“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just wanna show him how beneath it you are.”
Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.
“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”
A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.
On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”
“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”
Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.
“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.
He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.
“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”
“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”
“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”
You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.
You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.
“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.
“Mm, gotta go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”
Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.
“Sylus!” you scold.
He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”
You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.
Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”
Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.
“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”
You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.
He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.
“Sweetie?” he breathes out.
You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”
Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”
Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.
He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”
Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.
He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.
“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.
He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”
You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.
“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.
Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.
As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”
He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.
A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.
“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”
He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”
Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.
You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.
Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you into his arms without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.
Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers through her hair just as he used to.
“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.
“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.
As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.
You know it’s crazy to think about.
After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.
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note: thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
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haveagarbageday · 3 months ago
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Nobody got you the way I do \\ Lando Norris
summary: When Lando finds out what your friends truly think about him, he starts to wonder why you haven't left him yet.
additional info: This is a blurb, really. Title comes from OneRepublic's song Nobody.
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Some of your friends often wondered why you were sticking around. “It must be tiring,” they said several times when Lando’s struggles with his mental health came up in a conversation. They were reading the posts, saw the interviews, checked the social media buzz around him, so they always knew when there was a reason to bring it up and convince you to break up with him. It was almost a sport for them at this point, which was quite annoying since they were supposed to be on your side.
But you never cared about these comments, you loved him way too much, even on his darker days. He was under a lot of pressure on and off the track, and thanks to his more emotional personality, it was only natural that he wasn’t always in a cheery mood, and there were times when he truly doubted himself. Now that his car was fast and he had pretty good results on every race weekend, he began to overthink everything, terrified that he would make a mistake on the track that could take it all away.
Following the Italian grand prix, your friends were back on their bullshit after seeing the photos McLaren posted, the ones that showed neither Lando nor Oscar were in good spirits despite being on the podium behind Charles. “Gosh, he’s such a sore loser,” one of them noted, a girl you didn’t even remember from before. She was probably a friend of a friend and that’s how she became a part of your group chat. All you knew was that she was usually quiet and decided to stay away from your nights out, so you completely forgot that she existed.
Tired of the pointless fight with them, you put down your phone went to bed, hoping Lando would soon finish his Quadrant meeting and join you before you fell asleep. But he didn’t. You drifted off to sleep without him, and only woke up in the middle of the night when he sat down, causing the bed to shift under his weight. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him sit there with his back against the headboard, phone in hand as he read something, which made it obvious that he couldn’t sleep again.
“You okay?” you asked him quietly.
Lando glanced down at you with a surprised look. “Yeah, sure,” he replied a little too quickly.
It was a lie, you knew that, but you didn’t say anything, only let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. He reached out to bury his hand into your hair, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as if he was trying to help you relax and go back to sleep. It almost began to work when he suddenly let out a groan and you heard the clicking sound coming from the phone as he locked the screen.
“When everyone, including your friends, keep telling you to leave me… why do you stay?”
You raised your head from the pillow and gave him a questioning look, but he refused to elaborate. Knowing your family meant he knew they weren’t so happy that you chose to date him, while some F1 fans also enjoyed bullying him online by writing comments about how you looked too nice and normal to date someone like him. But your friends? You had never mentioned those conversations.
After some time he looked at you, and even in the dimly lit room you could see the sadness in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to snoop around, but when I checked the settings of that app on your phone, a notification popped up from your group chat and I read the preview. How long has this been going on? How long have they been trying to convince you to break up with me?”
A small smile appeared on your lips to assure him everything was okay, but he seemed even more troubled than before, so you decided to sit on top of him and lean down to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. “They can talk as much as they want, but I won't leave you, all right?” you said as your fingers traced his cheek. “I love you, this is all that matters to me.”
He gulped as he watched you, struggling to keep his composure, but when you kissed the corner of his mouth, he let out a relieved sigh. “I love you too. I don't want you to ever leave me,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and leaned forward to bury his face into your chest.
“Lan?” He looked up at you with a questioning hum. “You would have to do something colossally stupid thing to make me leave,” you told him with a laugh.
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saerins · 6 months ago
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ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki
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touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k
ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3
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“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)
beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”
you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.
it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.
“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.
unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”
touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”
in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.
fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.
you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”
your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”
the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.
until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.
fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.
“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”
he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.
“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”
yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.
you did… the first few times.
and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.
“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.
a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.
touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.
he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.
and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.
it’s dangerous.
he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.
and then he does something he’s never done before.
you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.
did that really happen?
“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”
you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?
slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.
it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”
and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.
mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.
were you really just upset over someone else?
every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.
by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.
“fuck, did we really just—”
“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.
touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.
dangerous.
pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.
“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.
“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.
“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.
touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.
he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)
grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”
you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.
“huh.”
“what for?”
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“yeah, yeah, whatever.”
when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”
“huh? for what?”
touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”
you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”
“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.
“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”
“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.
you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”
touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”
“wait, what do you mean?”
with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”
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m-ilkiee · 3 months ago
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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 2: Shots Fired
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series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.
cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, religious guilt, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, implied domestic abuse, victim blaming, blackmailing, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break, psychological torture, use of firearms
r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)
wc: 11.6k
[masterlist] [chapter 1] [chapter 3] [taglist]
a/n: likes are nice, comments and reblogs with comments are superior, anons are also superior too and would make me update faster cause it means people like what i write. this chapter takes an entirely different turn from the old story, some scenes are similar but the context is different. i host polls after this so stay tuned. Edit 02/11/2024: this chapter's end has been edited and changed. I've indicated the edited point, so that you could skip other parts to read it. Thank you.
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 YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.
It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself.
Not to mention, studying until the words are bleary and just looking at a book hurts your eyes.
But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.
Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. You try to reject him, try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped. This time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of the thing you hold so dear while you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.
You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.
The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgement for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.
No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.
You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.
Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.
You were so, so tired-
“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.
Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”
You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”
You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard any of this, he was definitely going to fire you. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.
“No mam!” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”
“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”
You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologised to her.
“What is going on here?”
You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”
“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”
Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”
“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologising profusely for your so called rude behaviour. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”
You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well, you better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”
“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”
You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.
Your skin crawled as you felt his penetrating gaze on you, as if judging you. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”
You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here because you said you were desperate for a job. But apparently, you’re not even bothered enough to keep it.” He spat out. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”
“But s-”
“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”
You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.
No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.
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  IZANA knows it's creepy to be waiting for Emma just outside her college, but it's not like he has a choice when she keeps ignoring any method he uses to contact her.
Mindlessly, he fiddled with his lighter with his back on the wall of the English department building and an unlit cigarette between his lips. Purple eyes scanned the people leaving the building one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. His hopes rose with each blond he saw, only for him to deflate when he realised they weren't her.
A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.
His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him before. Usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.
All because of you.
Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought her gambling friends into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain. He’s not the best person to be around, with how fucked over he was by life until Shinichiro gave him purpose but he loved his sister a lot and everything he did was to protect her. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma and he’d do anything to protect his humanity.
Only to watch it slip through his fingers.
First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet.
The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.
Now it is you, taking the space in her life that belonged to him and Mikey. You’re pushing both of them out of the equation, threatening their position in their sister’s life and everything they know.
Izana wonders how someone so insignificant was so important to Emma that she was willing to cut communications with her own brothers. It baffles him beyond understanding and at the same time enrages him that she could trust you so easily. That she was willing to turn against him in your name.
He took more puffs, skimming throughout the campus for any sight of her. It didn’t matter how he felt about it, as Kisaki had convinced him to ask Emma and you to go shopping, just to get back into Emma's good graces again. Apparently doing a nice gesture publicly for you would convince their sister to give them another chance again.
Especially because Izana had been the biggest opposition to their friendship.
“But Mikey was a little shit about them too.” he grumbles underneath his breath, cigarette in hand. “Why do I have to be the one to apologise? And why did Mikey get an out while I’m doing all the heavy lift-”
His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind and stood up straight, tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.
Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly and earning a shocked gasp escaped her lips.
“Get off me - Izana?”
Her free hand was fast to hit him, but her head was faster in turning around, only to recognize it was just Izana. Her hand stopped inches away from the smirking male’s face, the tension leaving her body and relief taking its place. It doesn’t last long, though as irritation suddenly crawls on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.
A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.
“Were you scared?” He teased, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, despite the glare she gave him in response. “You know no one would dare touch you.”
“Get off me. Your breath stinks like nicotine, I thought you said you quit smoking that shit.”
Ignoring Emma’s last question, he decided to change the topic. “Your lapdog isn't here with you?” he asked. Usually, you would be hovering behind her like a damn pest, so you not being around her was rather strange. 
Emma is quick to shove him off lightly, putting some distance between the two of them, clearly still mad at him. "(Name)'s not feeling well, so she didn't come to class today. I'm on my way to get her medicine."
Oh, that's a surprise.
But with you out of the way, Izana could finally have Emma all to himself for today and hang out with his beloved sister. Maybe even make up for the party thing without apologising to you. Without you here, it’s likely Emma isn’t as mad at the whole situation and is playing it up to make you feel like you have someone on your side.
He knows you’re not going to protest if Emma says she’s in talking terms with her brothers again. It’s a win-win situation and he doesn’t have to grovel or ask for forgiveness for some joke that went wrong.
"So that means we can hang out?"
"Excuse me?"
"You don't have to keep pretending you're still mad at me now that she isn't here." He spews the 'she' with so much venom it could kill, before switching up with a sick grin, his hand stretched out. "We can go to Vivienne Westwood and get that Saturn necklace you like, what do you say?"
His words hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes burning holes into his face as her lips curled into a sick sneer.
“Are you insane?”
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! I just told you (name)'s ill and you're asking me to go with you to shop at Vivienne westwood? Are you nuts?”
Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. Izana kept his composure, despite his bubbling irritation beneath the surface of his skin, with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’
“Oh come on, should I care about her-"
"You should be begging her to forgive you for what you did to her that night!"
"You can't still be mad at me for that shit that happened two weeks ago. And besides, it's not my fault she couldn't take a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth, digging his own grave. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”
“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”
“Calm the fuck dow-”
“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”
“Excuse m-”
He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.
“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”
The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.
It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat. 
“I-I-i" she starts to stutter. It’s obvious that she can recognize what she had just said as he blankly stared at her. "I didn't mean i-”
He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking away as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression. Emma followed behind, instantly, shouting his name at the top of her lungs followed with strings of apologies.
“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.
Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise, her words repeating in his head.
“I didn’t mean it! I’M SORRY-”
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YOU don't know which was worse, the feeling of helplessness that came with the reality of your life crashing before your very eyes or the splitting headache you've developed after crying in your room for a week straight. Laying on your bed all day, huddled up in a blanket and sobbing uncontrollably was unhealthy, but it was all you found the strength to do these days. 
In all your years of being alive, you've never felt this pathetic. Not when you would be pushed outside in the pouring rain if you made a mistake in making dinner, or had been beaten with a belt in front of Yuzhua and Hakkai because you failed your catechism test. You could protect yourself from your brothers when they got violent. You could run and hide when your dad was really angry and wanted to take it out on you.
Unfortunately, no one told you what to do when your life is falling apart.
Ever since that day, you couldn't find the strength to go to class or do anything for that matter. It was like your entire energy was sucked out of you, leaving your body an empty husk with nothing left to give. 
You only have yourself to blame.
You drag the blankets closer to your body, sniffling a bit. The worst part of all of this is that after this month, if you don’t find a job that pays you quickly, you are going to be broke. It’s times like this that makes you regret leaving your family. You know it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if you would be forgiven assuming you return home in tears and repentant of your sin of disobedience like the prodigal son in the bible. Life is too hard to live in the outside world without the help and guidance of a parent. You miss your old life, with your own bed and guaranteed food, as long as you did as you were told. You miss how sometimes your parents took you and your siblings to eat out after church.
You miss your mother. You want to go back to her. Life is hard, and dealing with being jobless with nowhere to turn to is harder. You could ask Emma, but she’s already taking care of you and there was no way you would bother your friend about your money problems.
"Hey babes, I got the medicine for you."
Emma's soft voice rouses you out of your self-pity session. The wood creaks underneath her heels as she walks to your bed and takes a seat besides you, the mattress dipping underneath her weight. The scent of her Vivienne Westwood wafting through your nostrils fills you with a sense of warmth, familiarity and at the same time, dread.
You feel guilty. Perhaps it's because you don't know how to tell Emma what exactly is wrong with you. It's easier to give her the half-truth that you caught a stomach bug than say everything. If you even as much as hinted that Manjiro had something to do with the real reason you were a sobbing mess on your bed, you're sure she would overreact and fight with her brothers again.
But still, not telling her meant you were keeping secrets from her. Something you both promised not to ever do as you two became best-friends.
‘It’s for her own good.’ you try to justify it. ‘It’s better I keep my mouth shut.’
Pushing that thought at the back of your mind, you roll over to her direction, pulling down your blanket just a little bit to see her properly. Your heart drops at the sadness etched onto Emma’s face, a forlorn look in her eyes. You hated seeing her down, yet all you’ve been doing for the past few months since you came into her life was causing her pain. You know how it feels to lose family, no matter how bad they were to you and Emma is no different.
“Hey”
Your voice is hoarse from your constant crying, but Emma doesn’t mention it as she reaches a hand to caress your face. “You look better than yesterday. You up to eat?”
You nodded briefly, realising how hungry you were. You’ve barely had an appetite to eat anything, so your rations had been smaller and compact until you regained it back bit by bit, thanks to Emma’s constant care. Pushing yourself up, you sit up and yawn, quickly covering your mouth the moment a bad stench emanates from it. Emma’s face quickly grows sour as well, probably smelling it too.
“You haven’t showered.”
“Uhhh-”
You knew there was no excuse for that one as Emma put the food and medicine away before yanking you off the bed while talking about how gross you were for not showering throughout today. “You’re a girl (name), don’t do this to yourself, c’mon-”
“But-” you start to whine, trying to defend yourself. “I was tired-”
“Nope!” she retorted, pushing you towards the bathroom. “No excuses! I swear you’re acting like Mikey when he’s in one of his moods-”
The room falls silent at her words, the cheerful aura dropping the second Emma realises what she’s said, a wave of guilt washing over her face as she lets go of your hands.
“Fuck- I’m sorry (name)...”
Your heart aches at how heartbroken she sounds right now and shatters even further at the fact that everything, every problem they were experiencing right now was all your fault. You saw it deep in Mikey’s eyes how much pain and suffering your presence in their family had caused, and how his anger reflected that action towards you. You’ve been so entrenched in your own problems that you forgot the mess you made in their family.
“Emma, you miss them don’t you?”
‘It’s not too late.’ You mutter to yourself, your heart in your throat as you steel your resolve. You couldn’t let her make that mistake you made by leaving your family aside. You don’t want Emma to be like you.
“(Name), please don’t-”
“You can’t keep ignoring them forever.” You cut her short, speaking directly to her now. “You can’t keep ignoring Draken either too. You’re miserable.”
“I’m fin-”
“Emma no.” You snap at her, finally having enough of her stubbornness as anger swells up in you. “I see how sad you look everytime you look at your pictures with your big brothers and Draken. Do you think that it’s healthy to keep ignoring them like this?”
“You were the one they hurt, you shouldn’t feel bad for them-”
“It doesn’t matter! I don’t matter!” You yell desperately, now pulling away from her grasp in an attempt to put your foot down. “They are the ones who matter a lot. Those are you family members! People who love you and have protected you for years! Just talk it out with them! They miss you for god’s sake!”
“What the hell do you mean you don’t matter?” Emma roars back at you, suddenly enraged by your outburst. You nearly stumble back at how angry she sounded, fear creeping into your skin as your verbal claws retract. “You matter to me! You mean the world to me as any of them do! You’re my best friend and I love you and if they don’t understand that then there is nothing to make up for!”
By the time she was done yelling, her breathing was heavy and her eyes so intense you couldn’t even stare at her. Your eyes quickly flickered to your feet instead; scared of seeing the disappointment on her face and terrified of her anger. You didn’t like it when Emma yelled, it reminded you of your mother getting angry at you, something you hated doing to her.
Eventually, she took a deep breath and took a step closer to you, her hand intertwined with yours. “Come on, I’ll help you shower.”
You silently follow behind her, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped.
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  PERHAPS Izana should be angry at Emma.
It would be justified after the words she said from her mouth, but he can’t because he knows the truth. Emma was just angry as well and she didn’t mean any of the words she had said to hurt him. She said them because of you, however and he realises that every fight they’ve had is over your presence in her life.
Which meant that the true culprit was you.
People may believe in love at first sight, but from the first day Izana set his eyes on you, he could only feel hatred towards you. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him.
At first, Izana thought it was the fact that the both of you were clashing personalities that made him feel that way, but then you keep getting in his way and ruining things for him. He hates everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma and how easy it was for her to like you. Just your mere presence in general was enough to set him off because of how simple it was for you to be close to Emma while you barely knew her. It felt like he was losing his only sister to a stranger, and now the Emma who stands in front of him is a mere mockery of his real sister.
And that’s the frustrating part. He can’t do anything to hurt you. He’s smart enough to know that if he does, Emma would never forgive him.
“... Kurokawa, are you here with us?”
Izana snaps back to reality as Kisaki taps the table three times to get his attention. ‘I might have spaced out.’ He thinks to himself before facing the entirety of the table; Tetta Kisaki, the rather shrewd and ruthless dealer sitting, his equally irritating lap dog Shuji Hanma and the little shit that he called his younger brother, Mikey.
Speaking of Mikey, ever since that day he made that phone call and revealed his brand new plan of accepting you into their friend group, he’s been very quiet. Even throughout today’s meeting, he hasn’t said a word, aside from mentioning that Draken was going to be absent and asking where Kakucho was before the meeting began.
And knowing his brother, a quiet Mikey is a suspicious Mikey.
Now that Izana thinks about it, he’s noticed that Mikey, who was on his side initially had suddenly switched to trying to apologise to you. Which was weird, considering how egocentric Mikey could be on the topic of apologising. Izana has his suspicions, but then again Mikey is unpredictable due to his rather dark impulses, so he couldn’t really say anything yet, until Kakucho came back from his task.
Izana cleared his throat and faced Kisaki again, deciding to be as honest as possible. After all, it’s their fault that he’s in this mess, might as well remind them. “Just thinking about how Emma practically called me a bastard and I’m supposed to be okay with it.” He said nonchalantly and the air in the room shifted into an uncomfortable silence for the upteenth time this week ever since that unfortunate day. It isn’t surprising to anyone as to why though, Izana’s complicated relationship with the Sano’s is a sore topic that no one ever dared to bring up.
From Kisaki’s tight lipped expression, Izana is sure that the younger male is picking his words carefully in his head. Even Hanma who would have laughed or said something to intentionally piss off Izana remains silent. Eventually, Kisaki lets out a resigned sigh. “The audit would be done another time.” He states in a cool tone, putting his laptop aside before facing the two brothers. “It’s obvious we’re not gonna do anything useful until you resolve this issue with Emma and her friend.”
“Really?” The white haired male mocks, causing Kisaki to shift in his place, an irritated frown creasing his face. “would you like to hear my pla-”
“We’re not going to kill a civilian and draw attention to ourselves, Izana. I’ve already told you what to do.” Kisaki snapped back, his yellow eyes darting from Izana to Mikey, before narrowing in irritation. “Both of you. Just apologise to (name), it’s not that hard. You don’t even have to mean it, the girl won’t even know the difference-”
“Ah yes, cause that went well the last time.”
“And whose fault is that? I clearly told you to say “I’m sorry” and all you did was make things worse!”
“I’m just brutally honest.” Izana spits back. “And you can’t blame me because I tried, compared to Mikey who sits on his damn ass and has done nothing-”
“I wasn’t the one who called her a cheap hooker!” Mikey interjects defensively, sitting upright after staying quiet from the start of this meeting, finally saying something.
“Oh, so you can speak.” Izana retorts back, his voice cold. Mikey is so good at shifting blame onto others for actions he has a hand in, especially when he knows it would reflect badly on him. Unfortunately, Izana has been in this game longer than his little brother. “I thought you had gone mute with the way you don’t want to talk about the issue beyond pushing me to apologise to her.”
“You don’t make it any easier with how you talk to people.” Mikey hisses back, his tempo rising with each word, but Izana can hear the slight shake in his voice, almost as if he’s hiding something. “How am I supposed to do anything if you keep saying shit like you’re glad (name)’s gone?”
(Name)?
The entire room falls silent at Mikey’s sudden outburst, or rather what Mikey had just said. No one says a word as they all stare at Mikey in shock, eye wide and mouth hanging open like he’d grown two heads. There’s a glimmer of confusion in the dark eyed male before the realisation of his mistake washes over him, his facial expression changing into a mixture of guilt and pure terror.
As if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
It’s unmistaken. Izana knows his brother is hiding something and it has to do with you. “You’ve never,” he starts slowly, never taking his eyes off Mikey, gauging his facial expression. “called her by her name. You only call girls who you had something to do with by their name.”
“I-”
“You fucked her, didn’t you.” it’s a statement, not a question. Mikey grows pale and it's more of a sure answer than anything else at all.
“I didn’t do anything bad… she’s still a virgin-”
“What.” Kisaki, interjecting as well, cuts him off, his voice cold. “Did. You. Do?”
Mikey is silent. It’s brief and doesn’t last long as he finally seals his fate with a quiet voice. “It’s not my fucking fault, she wore a short skirt and she was asking for it-”
At the side, Kisaki crumples back onto the dining table seat, his head in his hands muttering a quiet “Oh fuck, I should have stayed with Osanai.” as he shakes in disbelief. Hanma just sits there, clearly perturbed, not knowing how to react but at the same time, not really interested.
“Glad to know I’m not the only screw up.” Izana scoffs as well. Despite how cheery his voice sounded, the furious look on his face says a different story altogether. “Since apparently you’re just as stupid as I am.”
Mikey runs a hand through his golden locs, frustration evident on his features. No one has ever seen him look so frantic, like a little kid who broke something and is trying to hide it. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Sure she said no at first but I knew she wanted it when she relaxed in my touch-”
“That’s not what Emma’s gonna think, you idiot!” Izana barks at him angrily, his temper finally off the rails. “You practically threw away your entire plan before it even started! All for what? Mediocre pussy you could get from some other girl? And you know how Shin is about this shit. If Emma finds out and tells him, we’re screwed!”
There’s a mixture of emotions swirling in Izana right now. The urge to punch Mikey was strong, for daring to not only lie to his face, but also making him look like a fool to cover his ass.
Then again, he knows it’s really not Mikey’s fault but yours. You must have done something to make Mikey hurt you because he knows his little brother doesn’t hurt girls. You have this effect of turning people into worse versions of themselves, making them disgusting, evil and hateful.
You turned Emma against them and now you made Mikey’s dark impulses come out.
It’s you that’s the problem.
“So what anyone find out? They won’t believe her” Mikey snarls back, irritated. “She can’t blame me, I told her to fucking leave but she didn’t listen! She was practically begging me to fuck her-”
“ENOUGH!”
Kisaki’s voice is loud enough to silence the two brothers, ending their argument instantly as they breathe heavily from their prior screaming match. Izana slumps back on his seat as Kisaki sits up straight, eyes narrowed. Mikey does the same as Izana, his jaw tightly clenched as he crosses his arms on his chest, feet crossed. The younger male clears his throat, and starts to rationalise the situation.
“It’s obvious that we’re going to switch gears since this happened. We all have a curated reputation that we need to protect so that people don’t nose into our business.” He turns to Mikey who is still glaring hard at Izana. “Your brother has a point, you fucked up our plan by not telling anyone what you did-”
“You judging me too, Kisaki?”
“Can you stop being defensive for once Mikey and just listen!” Kisaki scolds, just about done with everyone making things more difficult for him. “I don’t care what you did to her, whatever affection or lust you have for her is a you problem. I just want this situation to be in our favour.”
The statement makes Izana scoff in dismal fashion, but he decides to ask out of curiosity regardless. “And how do you intend to turn this situation around? Cause right now she has leverage over us and any careless move can put us in a tougher spot than we can handle.”
Kisaki turns his attention fully towards Izana again, a knowing look on his face as he asks. “Is Kakucho done searching Mikey’s car?”
‘How did he know?’ Izana blinks, but then catches Hanma smirking and doesn’t bother to ask his impending questions. Kisaki always had a nasty and suspicious habit of continuously tailing him specifically, and usually it doesn’t go over Izana’s radar when it happens, apart from this instance. Which meant someone was being a rat in his group.
He’ll deal with that later.
Mikey raised a brow in confusion as well, opening his mouth to protest the invasion of his privacy when Izana’s phone suddenly rings. He picks it up, attempting to step out to answer it when Kisaki raises his hand to stop him.
“Answer it here.” Kisaki said, ignoring the way Izana looks at him like he has two heads. “and put it on speaker.”
He had no reason to comply, but he wanted to see where Kisaki was going with whatever plan he had. With a wry smile, Izana put the phone down on the table and slid the answer button, putting it on a loudspeaker.
“Did you find anything Kakucho?”
Ever loyal, Kakucho clears his throat and starts to speak, his voice sounding strained over the phone, as if he’s struggling with something. “Yes boss.” He answers, a twinge of nervousness coating his tone. “There’s a dash cam on the mirror and a spy cam underneath the compartment facing the passenger’s seat…”
Mikey grumbles under his breath something about fucking Kakucho up if anything ends up spoilt or missing in his car but Kisaki holds his hand up to his lips and shushes him. Izana continues once he’s sure his brother is done complaining. “And did you confirm the anonymous tip that we got?”
He can hear Kakucho shift uncomfortably, the silence on the other side of the phone drawn out until he finally says. “Boss, it’s too … I don’t think we should use this against her.” He tries to reason. “I think we’re going too far-”
“Perfect.” Kisaki chimes in, now looking at Izana with a satisfied smile. Kakucho is about to ask why Kisaki was there but Izana cuts him off instead. “Bring it back. I’ll explain once you come to the house.”
“Okay boss.”
The phone line dies and Kisaki, fairly confident in his plan, looks at Izana once again. “I’m sure you know where I’m going, right?”
Izana may think Kisaki is a pathetic brat who just happened to be smart, but right now, it’s like the both of them are connected and in tune with their thoughts. The tanned male stretches his lips into a smile, one full of malice and at the same time, glee, his eyes light with mirth when he realises what Kisaki was thinking.
Finally a plan he could follow along with.
“Alright, I’m all ears.”
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THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.
By the time you managed to catch a bus after spending the entire day looking for a job and getting back to campus, it was already late in the night. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.
You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 00am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.
A long time ago before the world weighed you down, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.
Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.
“Can you show me the book?” your father asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.
Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you: “Women don’t dream.”
Maybe that was the day you realised the love you craved from your father will never be given to you. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars, the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.
You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this. Today had been one disappointment to another
You passed by Emma’s dorm building, a sigh escaping your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.
Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.
It was already complicated before it began but at least she's taking your advice and talking to them again.
Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.
A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available. You felt greedy for this, after spending a week with her, you should let her be free.
‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’
Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realise that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatised you.
‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘Oh God, how far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’
You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched.
Silence.
You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Nighttime always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.
You should just get out of here.
Eventually, you make it to your dorm house in record time, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. ‘Maybe I’m being paranoid. But at least I’m safe now.’ You think to yourself as you push the door open, closing it behind you.
Weary from the day’s stress, your body starts to give up on you but you push through, trying your best to just make it to your room. You’re sure you would just collapse on your bed the second you got there and forget about anything else.
But as you reach for the handle, a feeling of dread washes over you, the same one you felt when you were outside. ‘I really need to let this go. There’s no harm waiting for me. It’s just my room.’ You mutter to yourself. Your overthinking has cost you a lot, from your job to your academics and right now, you really need it to stop. Pushing whatever feeling was keeping you away, you walked into the darkened room.
You finally make it to your room, about to rummage your bag for the keys when you notice the door was unlocked. ‘Oh? Ami must have come back rather early, since I barely see her until 2am.’
(From here is edited)
The first thing that greeted you was the stench of some kind of smoke -weed, the kind that Ami liked to use whenever she was in the room. You always hated the smell and you recall telling her to leave the windows open whenever she wanted to smoke. Coughing, you quickly covered your nose and mouth with one hand and reached to turn on the light with another. “Ami, how many times have I told you to open the window whenever you smoke? You know I don’t like the smell-”
Your blood turns to ice the moment light floods the room, your mouth dry as you stare at the man perched on your reading chair, a leg crossed over the other, the weed blunt hanging between his tanned hands. His lips are stretched into a sick grin, showing all his teeth, purple eyes shining with an odd mirth as he glances at you up and down.
Izana Kurokawa.
‘Run’
You don’t need to be told twice, quickly discarding your bag and running towards the direction of the door, only to hit someone hard, standing tall in your way. You look up fearfully to see mismatched eyes, a scar running down his face and flinch backwards in reflex. It’s as if he gazes at you with pity, but quickly switches to a blank stare as he stands between you and the door.
You know him from hanging around Emma a lot in the Tenjiku frat house, Kakucho. He’s always around Izana and only loyal to him for some reason that you don’t know. He doesn’t listen to anyone else, not even Mikey. You realise that he might have been the one that was following you when you were walking home.
Begging him to let you pass would be futile.
“Don’t worry, I’m just here to have a little chat with you. I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone is calm, but it doesn’t bring you any comfort. If Mikey could hurt you without any remorse, then there’s nothing stopping Izana from doing worse to you. “And as much as your backside is as interesting as your face, I prefer talking to someone who is looking at me.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” The words fly out from your mouth before you even think of a more appropriate response but it doesn’t seem to give him any form of reaction other than a dry laugh.
He scoffed. “I don’t care. Turn around.”
Reluctantly you slowly turn to face him again, your body trembling as your fear filled eyes lock with his. Your heart drops to your stomach when you hear heavy footsteps walk out of the door, shutting it behind you, locks turning and trapping you with Izana.
‘Oh God oh God oh God.’
Your fear doesn’t go unnoticed by the white haired man, and he only chuckles at how stiff you were. Between the two brothers, you know Izana thrives in fear, using it to his advantage and it’s not unfounded. Notwithstanding his backing from Black dragons, Izana had taken Tenjiku from a down and out frat house, to a den of crime that holds power, trickling right into the administration of the university. Even his men know better than to ever get themselves in his bad books, because no one can ever escape him, no matter how much you try to run.
It was only a matter of time until he would make you pay for causing him problems, but you didn’t think he’d come by himself. You felt stupid for thinking he wouldn’t care about you or he’d forget how angry he was at you and leave you alone, especially with Emma still not on speaking terms with them.
He motions with his bunt for you to come closer to him and you comply, taking careful steps until you’re standing right in front of him. He eyes you again with a tepid frown. “When you meet a king, you don’t stand before him, you kneel.”
Kneel. You want to assume he’s not serious but you know better than to question him and go down on your knees, focusing your gaze firmly on your lap. It’s humiliating the way he has you at his mercy, without even moving an inch but it’s better to be compliant than to aggravate him even further by being disobedient.
You’ve learned the hard way what could happen if you resist.
From the corner of your eyes, you watch as Izana puts out his weed blunt on your reading table leaving a sorching mark on the table, before reaching behind his waistband. Your mouth grows dry the second you see the gun, your heart pounding against your chest as he presses the barrel to your head.
‘Oh god.’ You gasp as he presses it further against your head, until you’re sure it would leave an indent. ‘He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me…’
“That’s odd,” He murmurs. “Usually, other people would be begging for their lives when met with a gun to their head, but you’re quiet. If not for the way your hands are trembling, I’d think you weren’t scared.”
This time, with a gun pointed at your head, you’re careful with your words. “Y-you said you won’t hurt me.” Your voice shakes with fear but you continue. You know men like Izana, he reminds you of your older brother who ruled the house apart from your father, with fear and control. Sometimes, when you were able to stroke his ego, he’d go easy on you. Maybe that would work on Izana too. “That you want to talk.”
“And what if I changed my mind? Pulled the trigger? That’ll make my life easier, yeah? I won’t have to fight for my sister’s love and affection with you.” 
Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear the safety go off and watch as his finger curls around the trigger. ‘Oh God, he’s going to kill me. He’ll shoot me dead. I-i have to say something- I don’t want to die-’
“I-i trust you not to do it.” You reply, your lips trembling as you struggle not to think of your head scattered into pieces on the floor if he chooses to kill you. “You’re a man of your words.”
There’s another complete silence that engulfs the entire room, until you hear a click that makes you flinch for a split second, waiting for the bullet that would end it all. Instead, it’s him putting the safety back on, and chuckling at your reaction.
“You trust me? How foolish.” He laughs, tracing the gun from your head down to underneath your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You’ve only read about people with empty eyes in stories, but seeing it in person was so terrifying. “Is that why you ended up with Mikey in his car?”
All the blood rushes from your head to the tip of your toes. “H-how do you kn-”
“I have eyes and ears in this school, (name).” You’re sure it’s the first time you’ve heard him call you by your name and despite being in a life or death situation, you couldn’t control the shiver that ran through your spine. “You wanted him to touch you, right?”
“T-that is not what happened!” You suddenly cried out, trying to explain your own side of the story. Of all the people who know your dirty and shameful secret, Izana is the worst pick, just your luck. “It was a mistake! I tried to tell him I didn’t want it but I couldn’t-”
“Ah ah -” Izana cuts you off, tilting your chin higher with the gun. “Don’t lie to me. You must have planned the entire thing to make Mikey look bad”
“No! I wasn’t trying to do anything, I just wanted to talk-”
“Really? Cause Mikey told me an entirely different story-”
“No, no I- didn’t… -”
“You were dangling yourself like a piece of meat for him to fuck and he’s a man, you know. He has urges and it's hard to resist temptation.”
“That’s not true-” your lips start to tremble at his words, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to be assaulted, you just wanted to talk to him about the Emma issue and you wanted to apologise. “That’s not true-”
“Oh but it is.” He said firmly, now leaning in closer to your face until there’s barely any inches between the two of you. “And now Mikey feels like a piece of shit because he couldn’t stop himself.”
“No-” your voice is small, trying to defend yourself but even you are beginning to doubt your own credibility with how he keeps twisting the narrative around until you begin to actually believe him.
‘No! Don’t let him make you think you’re in the wrong! You know what happened!’
“He even told you to leave but you refused to. You were baiting him to just do something to you so that you can tell everyone how bad Mikey is and make yourself get more sympathy points. Am I wrong?”
“No! I would never do that to Mikey!” You don’t realise your tempo had suddenly gotten high or that tears had started to drip down your face, but Izana did. He doesn’t point it out, staying quiet as you start to shout at him. “I would never bait him into hurting me! I just wanted to make up with him because I felt that I overreacted at the party I swear! And then he touched me in the car -”
“And you never reported him to the school authorities? Why? Did you want to blackmail him for money-”
“Because I love him!”
The words flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself from saying them.
Your heart drops as a mischievious glint appears in Izana’s eyes. His smile drops slightly, still maintaining the gun on your chin. “You love him?” He says slowly, testing out the words on his lips. “Love? Mikey?” He looks so deep in thought, like the concept sounds so foreign to him that he almost can’t believe it. His gaze falls back to you again, a quiet scoff emanating from his lips. “You really have no shame, do you?”
Unable to maintain eye contact with him, you break away from his gaze, biting down on your lips to prevent yourself from falling apart. When you don’t respond, Izana takes your silence as an opportunity to keep talking. “If you love him so much, then what’s wrong with what you both did in the car that day? It was what you wanted, wasn't it?”
“Not like that…”
“But you claim to love him.” Izana is calm and cool, while you’re stuttering on your words, making you look like you’re the one who is wrong. Like what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense to begin with and he’s the one saying something of reason. “And yet, you didn’t even notice he wasn’t himself that day. Or did you take advantage of his fragile state of mind?”
“I would NEVER-”
“You would, because you get to be the so-called victim and he gets to be the villain in your own story. Do you really know the implication of your actions?”
“That’s not right.” You don’t even realize how quiet you’ve gotten, your voice full of uncertainity. “I didn’t … it’s not…”
“Shut up.” He cuts you off again with a firm tone, tapping the gun on your chin gently to enunciate his point. “The reason why I haven’t put a bullet through your head as much as I want to is because I love Emma. I love Emma so much I’d kill for her and I’d resist the urge to kill for her. That’s how Sano’s love. That’s true love. That's something you'll never ever experience.”
You stay silent, trying to understand what exactly Izana was calling love. He leaned closer, making you feel even smaller. “If Emma finds out, she’ll think Mikey intentionally hurt you and she will hate him. But I guess that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Never. I don’t want her to hate him” your inner voice telling you it’s not your fault, is nothing more than a whisper, the feeling of guilt and shame overtaking you until you’re almost suffocating. “I just want them to be happy…”
“Then you know exactly what you’re meant to do, right?”
Of course you know what to do. Ever since you were child, it’s been drilled into your head. Whenever your brothers hit you a bit too hard or your father went overboard with his belt and you ended up in the hospital, your mother would take you aside to issue a warning that still rings in your head. That had terrible consequences if you refused to follow through with it.
You nod weakly. It really doesn’t matter what is right and wrong when it comes to the Sano’s, but what they want. Izana taps the gun on your chin again, shaking his head. “I need a verbal answer.”
“I won’t tell anybody what happened. Especially not Emma.”
Satisfied, he withdrew his gun from your chin and your face falls onto his lap, unable to support your head any longer. You feel a hand reaching down to pet your head, like you were a dog who had just been tamed by her new owner. The strength to push him off or stand up had left you, feeling drained as the weight of guilt settle down on your shoulders, heavily. You know you shouldn’t believe anything Izana says, but then again he does have a point. Maybe you should have been more receptive of Mikey’s touch or at least be polite about declining him instead of shoving him off and hurting his pride.
You feel so utterly powerless. Despite being wronged, you know there’s nothing you can really do to save yourself. You don’t think you can bear the traumatic experience of being an outlier again.
Mikey. You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t want anyone thinking he’s a bad person over a singular action.
'Maybe it’s not as bad as I think, I did enjoy it mid-way, so it should count as something. Right?'
You feel sick just trying to think about it.
“You know, if you’re this obedient, we can get along just fine.” He hums, breaking the silence as he pets your head gently. You hate yourself right now. How easy it is to do whatever it is that you’re told because disobedience is not an option. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know what I’ll do to you if you break your promise.”
“No” your voice is quiet. You feel tired, sick maybe, you don’t know. Maybe it’s the weed he smoked earlier affecting your judgement and reasoning. Or it’s the lack of sleep that has made it difficult for you to think straight or stand up. Either way, you don’t care. “I don’t.”
“Good girl.”
Bonus:
You know he’s mocking you, but you accept it, like you do with every circumstance thrown at you.
  IZANA looks down at your sleeping figure with a curious gaze.
For a moment, he almost pities you. Despite the faint glow of the room lighting, he can see the dark circles underneath your eyes and how stressed you look. For someone who is actively working to pay her fees while sustaining herself with no one caring for her, it must be hard being abandoned by society.
He can see why Emma picked you to be her friend, she always had a trait of picking up stray animals who had no one because she wanted something to protect. It’s no different with you, the way she’s so fiercely loyal to you and why she wanted you to be accepted by their family. No wonder she was hurt when you were vehemently rejected by them.
If he had a conscience, he’d feel bad for you. You love Mikey, of all people, someone who only saw you as a nuisance and to push the blame of his actions onto. All those times Mikey was cruel to you must have hurt the most because you truly cared about what he thinks about you.
He’s careful when he lifts your head from his lap, not wanting to wake you up. He puts your head on the chair and turns to leave, already overstaying his welcome. He’s done the thing he was supposed to, ensuring you stayed quiet about Mikey’s actions and there’s no need for him to be here any longer.
As he walked to the door, his mind goes back to you. In a way, you and him were similar. All alone, unwanted, with nobody in the world to care about you, cold, uncaring parents who didn’t think twice in terms of abandoning you both. The only difference between you and him is that he grew a backbone and you haven’t. You’re like a kicked dog who continues to stay on the ground to get kicked, in hopes the person kicking you stops eventually.
As long as you stay on the ground, people like him will keep kicking you.
He knocks loudly on the door and the locks turn. Kakucho opens it for him, peering inside with a worried gaze, his eyes settling on your body slumped over a chair.
“Did you hit -”
“I didn’t touch her.” Izana snaps at the taller male, stepping out of the room properly. “She’s fine, physically at least. Emotionally she’s a mess. But that’s Mikey’s problem to fix.”
“Huh?”
It wouldn’t hurt to tell Kakucho your little secret.  “Apparently (name)’s in love with my dear brother Mikey so she’s keeping quiet what he did to her.” a cruel smile stretches across his face. “How pathetic.”
Kakucho frowns at Izana’s statement, but as usual he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, his eye darts back to your form again, taking a good look at you, his eyes softening. Ever the gentleman.
“She shouldn’t really stay like that Izana, she’ll get a stiff neck-”
“Kakucho.”
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That was enough to end the conversation.
special thanks to: (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @maraya-007 @thisismarisaaa @reeyy0-2 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026
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ellabscrush · 9 months ago
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— when i suck it, i look in your eyes
strap sucking w/college!ellie williams x fem reader
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🇵🇸 boycott & ways you can help 🇵🇸
» cw; mdni, fem!reader, afab!reader dom!ellie, stubborn!reader, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking, breast play, no use of y/n
» sypnosis; your girlfriend has been studying for hours and you’re getting needy. knowing her weakness, she finally gives in and oh how she needed a distraction from her studies.
» a/n; hii, this is my first drabble, i’m nervous lol ᰔ hope you enjoy!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
“els i’m boredd,” you dragged your feet as you walk over to the couch where your girlfriend is typing on her keyboard like crazy.
ellie jumps, “uh… not done yet babe,” her eyes never leaving the screen.
you rolled your eyes.
you don’t know what’s gotten into you. you tried respecting her space because often times you would let your girlfriend come over to do her homework and enjoyed each other’s presence. it was chill. she would give you some sort of affection from time to time.
however, ellie has been sitting in the same spot for hours. no lunch break, bathroom break, or checking on her girlfriend break.. it was frustrating on your behalf. still watching her in silence as her eyes stare at the bright screen, you try again.
“so you’re just gonna write all day and not give me a kiss?” you teased, no answer from the brunette.
“ellie williams i’m talking to yo-“
“just give me five minutes fuck!” ellie snaps, cutting you off.
not only you hate it when ellie ignored you, but you absolutely despised yelling. even when you both know she doesn’t mean to. you weren’t mad cause that’s when you realized she was tensed and finally needed a break. you know exactly what she needs.
ellie closes her eyes, “s-sorry for yelling i didn’t mean to-“ she stammered.
you’ve had enough. you grabbed her laptop off her lap and adjusted yourself on hers. knowing her weakness, you lift up your shirt to expose your bare tits infront of her face. her expression had changed from confused to serious quickly.
“this is how i get your attention huh?” you smirked.
suddenly, ellie grabs your neck and both of your lips clashes to eachother, resulting in a sloppy make out while her other hand is firmly gripping onto your waist.
the kiss was fast, deep, and desperate. oh how much you missed her. she missed you even more.
“you know me so fucking well” she whispers in between, “and so fucking needy.”
you whimpered at her words, “very.”
your voice is like heaven in her ears. the kisses slowly went to your neck, and down to your breasts. ellie’s slender hands pushed your tits up, making you gasp because of how hard her grip was.
“f-fuck be gentle please..” you shut your eyes as she bites the living skin off your tits.
“shut the fuck up.” ellie hisses, slapping your tits.
the unexpected gesture made you turned on. your hips start to rock over her jeans, trying to find some friction. your girlfriend is just in cloud nine right now watching you crave for her attention.
your hips move faster, “baby.. need you so bad..” you cried.
ellie’s face lights up, she didn’t say a word but gently lifted you off her lap and disappeared in the bedroom to get a little surprise. she soon came back with your favorite dildo infront of your face, turned on just seeing this sight of ellie.
“on your knees,” ellie ordered, “since you’ve been pestering me all day i need you to be a good girl for me..”
she says as her thumb circles around your mouth, wanting to be let in your wet mouth. so you obeyed.
“mm, fuck” she chuckles, “you really wanted this huh?”
you nod with those fuck eyes of yours. you didn’t even realize it but your shirt was still lifted up, exposing your bare chest. ellie’s free hand starts massaging them as they are her little stress balls.
“want my cock in your mouth?” ellie whispers, “mmm y-yes,” you mumbled.
so desperate that you start stroking her strap, ellie was soaked in her boxers at this point.
ellie then took her thumb out and guided her strap into your mouth. grunting like she swore she could felt it. it was a sight. a sight where ellie pulled out her phone and started recording you sucking her cock in and out, whispering praises.
“good slut..”
“that’s my girl, go deeper for me..”
“want this cock in your tight cunt later..”
the room was filled with filthy lewd sounds like a porno , honestly it could be if ellie posted that video. but she would never. it was only hers to see.
your mouth was getting sore but ellie kept pushing you in more, making you choked a little bit. not only she loved hearing the sounds of your wet slick, she loved to hear you cry and gag on her strap.
muffled words coming out of mouth, ellie didn’t care what you were saying. you were just so pretty in her eyes, on your knees for her as you should be.
“mhmph, keep going.. faster” she whimpered, your mouth was gliding so easily on the silicone.
you took out the strap out of your mouth to show your girlfriend how much of a drooping mess your mouth made.
“i love you els.. i’m all yours,” you say as you were waiting for that affection you’ve been needing all day from her as well.
“love you so much pretty girl..” she whispers.
she was so glad you gave her that much needed break.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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caturdwy · 3 months ago
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ok, i don't know why i wrote this, i'm not even a ford girl, i'm a stanley girlie all the way. but this image came to me yesterday and i had to write it down, so i spent my entire class working on this. it's not finished but i don't now if i'm gonna write more. here goes nothing
pairing: stanford pines x reader
warnings: smut (?), definitely sexual. 18+, mdni
word count: 1.5k
"Is that why Stanley calls you Sixer?" You ask, breaking the silence.
Your voice gets him out of his trance, but not early enough for him to actually hear what you asked. "Huh?"
"Is that why Stanley calls you Sixer?" You repeat yourself, pointing one finger at his hands.
He lets out a laugh and nods. "Yeah, he's so creative with the nicknames." He answers, voice full of sarcasm.
"Can I touch it?" You ask, finger still pointing at his left hand, the closest to you. "Your hand, can I touch it?"
He blushes and tugs at the collar of his sweater, voice faint. "Uh, yes."
You take your hand off your thighs and touch the back of his, feather light touch as to not scare him off. You observe attentively his reaction, checking if he will wince or take it away from you. Since he stays still, you take it as a sign to continue.
You grip his hand firmly, not harshly, and pull it closer to you. His gaze follows your every move, cheeks still a bit flushed, and he swallows dry. You start to touch just his fingers, pinching his phalanxes and moving them around before pressing on them and hearing them pop. His eyes grow a bit when you do it, not expecting you to do that.
You linger a bit more on his extra pinky, still fascinated. You touch it a bit differently, and wonder if you should ask anything about it.
"May I ask you a question?" You say out loud. Well, it doesn't hurt to try.
"Yes, go on." He speaks, still watching you closely.
"Is it ever a hindrance? Like, does it work like every other finger?" You ask, still with your hands focused on popping said finger.
"No, it's never a hindrance. It works just like the rest of my hand." He replies, pulling his hand away from your touch. He wiggles his fingers, moving every phalanx to show you, and then he lifts only his extra little finger and does the same thing. "See? Full control."
You let out a smile, finding it fascinating. It's at the very least interesting. Unusual. You like it. But you also can't help how your mind goes straight to the gutter.
You can't jump on this too fast, or you'll startle him. So you put your hands back on his and pull it closer to you, like it was before.
Stanford smiles back at you, a little awkward, sure, but you can see his flattery.
"Very interesting. Must be useful." You utter.
Meanwhile, your grip on his hand gets stronger, and you use both your thumbs to squeeze his skin, pressing on spots that are usually stiff.
"It doesn't make that much of a difference. My niece, however, always says it's friendlier than a regular handshake."
You let out a little laugh while pressing your thumbs on the back of his hands, paying attention to the tendons. You hear Ford suck in a breath once you hit what is apparently the right spot. "That's adorable."
"Yeah." He agrees mindlessly, but he's not really here. He's a bit distracted, hopefully enjoying the massage. "Yeah, she's adorable."
You change your focus from the back of his hand to the palm, going straight to the spot where his thumb meets the rest, the thenar area. He hisses a bit and you stop for a second, looking at his face to check if this was still okay. You can confidently say he was more than okay, because he has his eyes closed and the face of someone who was enjoying the situation. His back was not as stiff now and had a little arch to it as his shoulders leaned in towards your touch.
You do this to the entirety of his palm, running your thumbs on the soft spot on the middle of it, pressing on the flesh of his fingers, the side of his hand, dragging all the way to to the area of his carpals. The more you press and massage, the more he relaxes. Depending on what you do you even get an approvingly hum, almost a little moan. Of course these are the things you do again and again, just to hear him make any noise.
At last, you move his wrist in little circles, improving the circulation on the area before pressing both the dorsal and ventral areas. You give the back of his hand a little kiss before placing it on his thigh again, and point to his right, the farthest away from you.
It takes him a moment to register, his brain wrapped around a fog of calmness and relaxation. He's never felt like this before, he's never gotten a massage in his life, much less in his hand. And oh boy, how bad did he need it. He didn't even know his muscles could get that stiff, hold on to that much stress. A lifetime of stress, really. With just simple strokes of your own hands, that was all gone, vaporized. He's so out of it he doesn't even blush when you kiss his hand.
He lifts his right hand and shifts on the bed, figuring out a position that would be more comfortable to stretch his arm out, but still manageable for you to keep doing the sorcery you were doing. You keep following the same procedure, pop the phalanxes first, run your thumbs on the back of his hand, then go the palm, rub the thenar area out, press on the soft spot on the middle, massage the muscles on his fingers, the works.
The more you touch him, the more he relaxes, the more he lets himself go. He's feeling so light he can almost lift off the ground. If he lays on the bed he is sure he'll never be able to leave, the mattress and him becoming one. You think about saying something, but nothing comes out, not when he looks so good like this, all relaxed. Possibly the first time he's actually relaxed in his entire life.
After you are almost done you decide it's time to speak up. "Hey, Ford."
"Hmmmm." He purrs, not bothering looking up at you.
"Do you know what this makes me think?" You ask right after giving a kiss on the same spot you did the other hand. However, you don't let it go. You keep holding it, rubbing little circles on his skin.
"Hmmmm?" He hums again, but this time tries to voice the end like a question. This prompts a tiny laugh from you.
Now's the moment, he has his guard down. You move your body carefully closer to him, placing your face near his ear. Ford can feel his warm breath on the side of his face, the skin almost burning from the sudden heat. You pull out the sexiest voice you can make and whisper lowly, like a secret and he's the only person meant to hear.
"It makes me think of how good this extra finger would feel grabbing my ass."
He nearly chokes out, being pulled from his half-dreaming state and slammed back into reality, the blood split between rushing to his face or his lower belly, straight to his dick. He takes in a sharp breath, eyes opening and growing twice the size they usually are. You give him a little giggle from the reaction, finding it a bit funnier than it should be.
With all of his attention on you now, you place yourself a bit farther from him and bring the hand you're holding to your eye view, right in front of you face. You wait for him to look you in the eyes and put his thumb on your hot tongue. He jolts at the movement, but doesn't push back. You close your lips around it and suck it all the way to the back of your mouth. When you swallow everything, you circle your tongue around his skin while dragging it out of your mouth, little by little.
Stanford feels like his body is burning. Someone might as well have drowned him in gas and set fire to it. Once your tongue leaves his finger, he feels the cooling sensation the of the air coming in contact with your saliva and his dick gets incredibly harder.
He didn't want to react this way, he really didn't. Stanley hired you as a bad joke and he was not pleased about it, but hell. He can't not be turned on when you look at him like that, lips shiny and wet, breath hot on the skin of his hand, fingers still holding him by the wrists.
When he opens his mouth to say something, you catch him off guard again by kissing his index finger. Then his middle finger, all the way to his extra pinky, which you also suck while looking at him straight in the eyes. But he's weak, so while you're still halfway done putting the thing in your mouth he closes his eyes, trying to calm down the turmoil of feelings raging inside him.
You take his finger out of your mouth and it makes a wet, loud 'pop'. You give yourself a proud smile and lick the extra saliva off your own lips, bringing your body closer to his again. In the sultriest voice you can pull off, you whisper on his ear again. "How does that sound, Mr. Pines?"
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winstonsns · 6 months ago
Text
the gang with a soc!reader
authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO
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includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve
word count: 2.0k
warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped
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PONYBOY CURTIS
you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class
but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship
most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him
when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you
by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up
you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high
sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed
you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him
you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed
he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it
you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together
if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud
if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will
you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it
pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that
he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him
you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way
yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles
you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets
you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful
JOHNNY CADE
as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc
dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance
when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression
you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like
they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek
you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents
sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while
he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him
since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home
sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute
he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross
he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card
sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place
he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more
DARRY CURTIS
things got more financially stable when you came into his life
you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house
sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7
having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too
you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you
sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work
he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant
occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices
you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other
he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy
he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him
you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him
he really loves being around you and having you by his side
you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared
he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not
he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him
he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically
SODAPOP CURTIS
people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right
they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful
you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him
your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house
sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him
he just wants to be around you whenever he can
you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants
once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out
you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches
you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in
his pimple went away in a few days
since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes
soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding
when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3
you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems
you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again
he legit treats you like a princess and you love it
yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you
DALLAS WINSTON
when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life
he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you
you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy
you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own
he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things
whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have
if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities
you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday
he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him
you spoil him rotten and he loves it
makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough
he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes
you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face
TWO-BIT MATTHEWS
sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard
he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met
he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people
anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it
you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse
two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care
he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time
they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff
they’re happy for him though
sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain
he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him
he’s really glad that you love him and you show it
STEVE RANDLE
before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs
he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you
anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX
you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him
you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with
i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO
he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally
you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together
you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens
he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets
then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for
whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk
he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well
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sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!
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thediaryofaurora · 2 months ago
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ticci toby nsfw headcanons 😭🤲 can’t express how much i love your hc’s bro its so good 🥹💗 pls keep cooking
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☆Ticci Toby Relationship HCs☆
CW: NSFW, f!reader
THANK YOU SO MUCH! This ask single-handedly brought me out of my writing slump. I went ahead and added SFW dating HCs as well, a little bonus 🙌 Also I’m in a leg brace from soccer so I’m stuck in bed.
•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•
★SFW★
- This guy has got a LOT on his mental plate, be prepared for that.
- He is 100% a friends to lovers type of guy. He’s not easily trusting, so that relationship really has to be built up.
- When he does have a crush on someone he beats himself up about it because he feels so stupid for thinking you’d ever like him back.
- Moving onto actually dating him, he is so so so insecure. Lots of reassurance is needed, but if you’re able to get through to him he eventually realizes you actually like him.
- Crazy touch starved. In the first few months of dating he’s super unsure of if he can kiss you or even put his arm around you, he’s HORRIFIED of crossing any boundaries and you leaving. You’ll probably have to make the first move.
- He most likely won’t be the one to ask you out. If you’ve known eachother for a while and he’s feeling a little confident there’s a possibility, but in his mind he’d rather stay friends and get to see you rather than get rejected and you not talk to him anymore.
- LOVES going on dates with you, but he’s a ball of anxiety. It should be easy to cool him down and let him know you’re enjoying it, he’s just so worried about if you’re happy or not.
- Usually thinks going on walks or sitting on a curb together is like the perfect date, ESPECIALLY in the fall. He keeps an old camera on him that he got from Brian so he can make little home videos and capture the moments you spend together.
- Picks up cool leaves, glass shards, or other things left in the forest and makes sure to show you.
- He’s actually not an awful cook. He’s a fast learner in pretty much every aspect and he already knows the basics. His mom taught him when he was young how to make some baseline German dishes, and this man can WHIP that shit up.
- Once you two are to the point in your relationship where you can cuddle, he is ALL OVER YOU. Especially when it’s raining/ thundering out and you two can lay in bed together. Since he overheats easily due to his CIPA, in the colder seasons you’ll have to leave the window open so he can stay cool.
- After seeing how his dad treated his mom, he has a pretty good grasp on how to treat a partner. At times he can fly off the handle, especially with his bipolar disorder, but afterwards he breaks down and apologizes. If at any point you even SEEM like you don’t like him anymore he gets defensive, it makes him very standoffish or snappy.
- Won’t shut up about you after you start dating. Not in a rambling way, but he finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. He doesn’t meant to, but how could he go without telling someone you’d like the flower he just walked by?
•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•
✩NSFW✩
- VIRRRRGINNNNNNNN.
- I mean VIRGIN virgin, like this guy has had NO activity. No first kiss either. All the knowledge he has is from porn, so he’s completely clueless. If you’re both inexperienced you’ll just have to persevere.
- He’s the kind of person to get turned on looking at a picture of you fully clothed, he’s just so in love with you.
- Before you two start dating he’s 100% taking candid pictures of you or finding your instagram posts and jacking off to them.
- Massive bottom. He puts out a front for a WHILE before you’ll be able to realize he’s not a top, he doesn’t want to look like a sissy. If you suggest being on top he’s BLOWN AWAY. Acts like he’s just doing whatever you want, but afterwards you definitely realize he’s been waiting for it.
- Sensitive as hell. He’s a loud one, but again he doesn’t want to look weak or not masculine enough. He tries to hold his moans and whimpers back and grunt instead, but if you do it just right he’s a whimpering, whining, PANTING, mess. Kiss his neck? He’s rock hard. Even if you’re just giving him a hickey he’s whimpering and bucking his hips into you.
- Tits man 100%. Doesn’t matter what size, the fact that they’re there is enough. When you’re on top of him he prefers for you to face him so he can watch them bounce. When he’s on top he’s usually in missionary so he can still see them.
- Hair pulling kink, specifically his. He can’t feel the pain, but the yank drives him CRAZY.
- Big on oral. Giving or receiving, he doesn’t care. If he’s giving he prefers for you to sit on his face, but he’d never admit that.
- His favorite place to do it is tight spaces. Closets, cars, narrow alleyways. Especially if it adds to the thrill of getting caught.
- STAMINA. He cums crazy fast, but he’s definitely able to make up for it with how many rounds he can go. Even if he came a few minutes ago, it’s already up and ready to go again.
- Likes to have music playing in the back while you do it. He probably already made a playlist the second you started dating, but if you ever want to choose the music he doesn’t mind.
- At first he’s self conscious about his abilities, but after some time and seeing how good you feel he’s a cocky motherfucker. Slyly grinning and looking at you all worn out after a few rounds boosts his ego to the moon.
- Dim lighting all the way. He wants to be able to see you, but he feels too exposed when it’s too bright.
- Not completely opposed to a threesome, it depends on who it is. He’s more protective than possessive, so if he trusts the person enough he’d be okay with it. If it had to be anyone in the mansion it would probably be Cody or Liu, but he’d make sure you’re okay with it.
- Rabid horny teenager.
•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•
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ffsg0jo · 6 months ago
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the acrid smell of acetone permeates the room as you gently rub away the chipped black polish on sukuna's fingers. in hindsight, you really should've worn a mask, but when sukuna asked if you wanted to 'paint his nails or whatever', you jumped at the opportunity before he changed his mind.
"hurry up brat," sukuna scoffs, clicking the roof of his mouth. you squeeze the hand held in yours in annoyance and meet his gaze.
"patience kuna, you can't rush art!"
"what art, you're painting my nails black?"
"just shush and let me paint them."
"don't tell me to shush, i've beaten people up for less."
"okay big guy, anyways i'm done. gonna start painting them now."
sukuna only grunts in acknowledgement and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. he's had a long day today, and the gentle rubbing of your hands on his calmed him down. he'd never admit it, but he finds it relaxing when you play with his hands. your soft skin pressing against his.
he missed you today. he doesn't understand why because he comes home to you every single evening, but he felt uneasy the whole day. at first, he thought he might've eaten some bad meat, but he realised he was unlocking his phone just to see the picture of you he kept as his background. he found himself scrolling through his gallery on his lunch break, which consisted of pictures of his nephews, car parts, and mainly you.
sukuna felt lovesick.
he just wanted to come home, leap straight into your arms, and stay there until he had to leave for work the next day. was that too much to ask for?
but of course, his avoidantly attached tushie would never admit it or verbalise it. it's a miracle you're fluent in sukuna and recognise his need for your touch and closeness. which is why you were taking as long as possible painting his nails. even giving him a little hand massage whilst you did it.
he hummed and sighed in relief when feeling your lips press against the palms and backs of his hands. he loved you so much.
"love you too kuna."
his eyes fling open at your words, and he realises in his hazy state of mind he said those words out loud. you giggle at the look on his face and start painting his nails, finally.
your boyfriend watches your every single move, drowning in how beautiful and majestic you look. your gentle strokes when filling his nails, the tip of your tongue peeking out in concentration and the firm grip of your hand.
before he knows it, you're already moving on to the next hand. sukuna frowns at how fast the time seems to be going. he knows he told you to hurry up, but he wanted to savour the feeling. you look up, feeling the intensity of his frown and grin at sukuna.
"we can cuddle whilst watching a movie if you'd like?"
"only if i get to pick the film," he huffs. your smile only widens.
you finish painting his nails and gently blow on all of his fingers. his hands are so beautiful. strong, veined, with calluses from working so hard all day. the paint will probably start to chip away again, in a week or two, but you'll be right here to paint a fresh new layer on.
"beautiful," sukuna whispers above you. you nod in agreement, appreciating the black on his nails. it suited him so well, but maybe you could convince him to let you choose a different colour next time. you glance up at sukuna to tell him and realise he's staring at you.
not caring if his nails have properly dried or not, he lifts his hand up to your face, gently kissing your nose, your cheek, and finally, your lips.
"beautiful," he whispers once more.
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i am taking requests and writing fics and matchups for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!
© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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retroaria · 3 months ago
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Michael Kaiser. That’s it. That’s the post.
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i’m having kaiser thoughts. i’m pondering my orb, and all it’s showing me is michael kaiser. the evil voices in my head (my ask box) are taunting me (sending very nice requests) to sell my soul to michael kaiser (finally write something about him) and so here i am.
summary: random kaiser hc’s (lmk if you want more/nsfw ones)
BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🪽 - aria
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• thinking about how possessive he would be in a relationship. it isn’t overbearing, in the sense that he trusts you and lets you do you’re own thing. however, he’s a rather insecure man behind all that smug douchebaggery that he puts off and he has a hard time watching you interact with other men of his same stature. because truly, no matter how good he is to you, he isn’t the best person all around. there are guys out there that would be better for you and he can’t help be fear that you’ll be swept off your feet and taken from him.
• Kaiser is gentle with you. you actually turned him into a completely different person. It’s not that you’ve really changed him at his core, but you’ve opened him up to love he didn’t know before, and so he feels like he has nothing to be afraid of with you. he’s vulnerable and expressive and happy with you. he makes sure to provide that same experience for you in the relationship, making sure you always know you can go to him for anything and you don’t have to hide anything from him.
• In the beginning of the relationship, Kaiser is very protective of your privacy. He’s really afraid of the consequences that may come with the world knowing who you are and who you are to him. he’s not naive, he knows there’s bad people out there. not only that, but it’s no one else’s right to know you’re love for each other. i see him doing a soft launch and that’s it. after that he’ll post you on occasion and be a little less aggressive about hiding from paparazzi, but he still doesn’t want to share you. you’re his whole world, keyword HIS.
• kaiser LOVES intimacy. physical or emotional, he loves those sweet loving moments that come to fruition from the trust and bond the two of you have cultivated. he loves showering and taking baths with you, relishing in the gentle touches as the two of you clean each other up. they’re always filled with soft giggles and quick kisses, before drying each other off and snuggling up. he loves listening to you talk about your day, not sparing him from details you may have spared others from. telling him all the thoughts and actions you aren’t proud of, unafraid of being judged in his eyes. the vulnerability of it all makes his heart beat fast, but you’re both so trusting and in love that there’s nothing to be afraid of.
• this might be a hot take, but i feel like the concept of marriage would scare him a bit. it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, because he absolutely does and already plans on it. it’s just a level of commitment that he never thought anyone would dedicate to him. he doesn’t want you to end up regretting it in the future. he doesn’t shy away from conversation about it though, he actually wants you guys to talk about it and get a feel for where you both stand. when the time comes to take that next step, he’s as ready as ever. just make sure you don’t break his heart please (or i’ll find you bro.)
• dates with kaiser can either be extravagant and classy or they can be chill and sweet, he can do both. sometimes he wants to take you to the nicest restaurants he can fine, see you all dolled up looking absolutely stunning for him, and pamper you the entire night. other times he just wants the two of you to do something fun and spontaneous, would take you to a fair and win you all the stuffed animals you want, or would take you on a stroll around the city, letting you frolick through the shops while he holds all your bags for you. he’s such a gentleman either way.
• kaiser loves being domestic with you. doing the laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning the house, making dinner, he loves it. in those moments he finds himself wishing they would last forever, just the two of you existing in each others presence, he has nothing to worry about.
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moon divider- @strangergraphics-archive
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months ago
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What if when Nyra gets crowned, she has a crown made for Jace? His wife could help him get ready for the coronation (I’m talking bathing, hair, dressing, everything). Maybe it’s to show him how serious she is about him being her heir
When I saw this picture (not my edit, idk who made it), I had to write something
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’The prince’s bath is ready, Princess,’’ one of the maids informed you, coming to the table where you had been breaking your fast. ‘’Does the prince needs us to assist him? I will call a male servant.’’ 
You thanked her for the bath, then shook your head. ‘’That won’t be necessary,’’ you replied. ''And leave the towels on the chair.''
''Yes, Princess. Should I have his morning meal brought to his chamber? He must break his fast before the coronation, her Grace said.'' 
You glance at the bed in the distance, seeing Jacaerys' sleeping form under the covers. He had difficulty falling asleep last night, his nerves making him restless, so you let him sleep longer. The coronation wasn't until late morning. 
''I will see with him after his bath. I'll send someone to the kitchens.'' 
The maid nodded, then left. 
After you finished your meal, you went to the bed and gently woke your husband, caressing his messy hair. It always baffled you how all over the place they get during his sleep. You pressed a lingering soft kiss to his soft cheek. ‘’It’s time to wake, my love.’’ 
As you expected, Jacaerys grumbled sleepily and pressed his face deeper into his pillow. 
You stifled a smile, finding him endearing when he was acting like a child in the morning. On other days, you would have joined him for another hour of sleep, but you couldn’t allow yourself that luxury today. You needed to prepare for the day you’ve all been waiting for: Rhaenyra reclaiming her seat and — officially — becoming the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. 
‘’Your bath is ready. Come.’’ You stood, knowing he’ll try to pull you with him if you stayed seated on the bed. 
Jacaerys reluctantly dragged himself out of bed. He sleepily followed you to the bathing area, his eyes still heavy with sleep and his curls sticking out in all the places. He looked adorable in his groggy state. 
Like a toddler running after his mama, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. ‘’You left me alone in bed,’’ he complained, his voice still raspy from his sleep, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. ‘’It was cold without you.’’ 
A smile curved on your lips, and you leaned into your husband’s embrace. His lips skimmed lightly over the sensitive skin of your neck. ‘’Cold? I find that difficult to believe, my love. You were wrapped in a blanket with the fire blazing in the hearth.’’
‘’Still cold,’’ he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, making you shiver slightly. ‘’I prefer having you in my arms to keep me warm.’’
‘’And I would prefer if you disrobed and sat in the bathtub so I can wash your hair.’’ 
Jacaerys huffed, then released you and started to remove his night tunic. He left it in a lump on the floor, then stepped into the hot bath. 
You sat on the stool right by the tub and filled the pitcher with water to pour it over his hair. ''Cover your eyes.'' 
He closed them, letting the water fall down his face instead of shielding his eyes with his hand. 
You lathered soap in your hands and Jacaerys sighed as you began to wash his hair, finding it soothing how your fingers massaged his scalp. Before he was wed to you, he had servants who assisted him and they were nowhere near as gentle as you. 
''Cover your eyes again.'' 
You poured more water, washing down the sods before applying oils and brushing them with a comb. It was better to brush curly hair when wet than dry. Jacaerys had learned that the hard way as a child...
 Once his hair was oiled and brushed, you began to wash his back and shoulders, the hot water cascading over the light dust of freckles. He hummed pleasantly, enjoying the feel of your slender fingers rubbing the soap into his skin.
‘’I still cannot believe Mother had a crown made for me. Heirs don't wear crowns,’’ Jacaerys said, his nerves making him pick at his nails. 
When the King named Rhaenyra his heir, there was no crown given to her. He only organized a grand ceremony at court to publicly declare the princess  as his rightful successor. 
But Rhaenyra wanted to make things different. 
''Her Grace remembers your fear that a lowborn with white hair might lay claim on the Iron Throne after her passing. By giving you a crown in front of all the Lords, Ladies and other nobles, she wishes to remind you —and everyone — that you are the future rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and that no one can take your place. Being a dragonlord or having Valyrian features does not grant anyone a claim to the throne. You are the heir because you are the son of the Queen.'' 
Absent-mindedly, Jacaerys continued picking at his fingers, drawing blood out. He was more nervous now than he had been on your wedding night. His mind was going through all the possible and impossible scenarios of the coronation... What if something went wrong? What if he tripped in front of everyone? What if the remaining supporters of the Greens tried to sabotage the ceremony?
''Quit doing that,'' you scolded, taking his hand from him. ''A prince cannot receive his crown with blood under his nails.'' You took a brush and scrubbed the blood and dirt around and under his nails. 
He apologized. 
''You're nervous, it's alright,’’ you said, your eyes soft and understanding.  
He sighed and reached over the tub to take the sponge. ‘’You don't need to do everything, you know. I can wash myself.’’ He lathered soap on a sponge and scrubbed his skin while you continued with his nails. 
Once he was thoroughly clean, Jacaerys dried himself with a warm towel, then slipped on his robe. He never wore one before you came into his life, claiming it was for women, but he loved to lounge in one after his bath. The silk was soft on his skin and light. You had one made for him for his eight and ten nameday — a dark and rich red color with an embroidered dragon at the back. 
You made him sit at your vanity table. It was unusual for him. The vanity was your spot. He enjoyed watching you sitting there in the mornings, picking jewelry and scented oils, or simply brushing your hair. Sometimes, he would even offer to brush them for you.
You combed through his damp hair, twirling his curls around your fingers to make them more defined. ''You're gonna be the most handsome prince the court has ever seen,'' you declared, tucking a last curl behind his ear, showing off his beautiful face. 
Though he lacked the classic Valyrian traits, replaced by a perfect reflection of the former Lord Commander of the City Watch, the gods had blessed him with the gift of beauty. If you hadn't been already married to him, you would have been jealous of the woman he called his wife.
 Jacaerys rolled his eyes and pulled you down on his lap. From this close, you could see every freckle across his nose and cheeks. His lips were a slightly darker pink, stained from the cherries he just ate. You couldn't resist kissing them. 
The kiss was brief, causing the prince to pout.  
You gave him another kiss, this one slightly longer, then stood when he tried to chase after your lips for more. You knew that game. You'll never be ready on time if you let him get what he wants. 
''Later,'' you promised, lifting his chin and pulling down a single strand of hair, curling it around your finger. 
He'll look glorious with his crown.
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months ago
Text
♡ And They Were Roommates ♡
chapter 1 : The Guard Dog
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Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader
A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰
word count: 8.8k
Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.
Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!
series masterlist
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If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?
He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.
He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.
You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.
Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.
You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.
He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.
“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”
“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.
“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”
He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.
“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.
“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.
“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.
He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.
“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.
And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.
And well, the rest is history.
~~
Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.
Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.
“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.
“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.
“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.
“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.
Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.
“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”
“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.
“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.
Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.
Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.
The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.
The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.
“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.
Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.
“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”
“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.
“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”
“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.
Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.
“That includes you too, knives.”
Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.
“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.
“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”
“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.
“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.
“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”
“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”
“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.
“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.
“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.
As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.
“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.
“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”
“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”
Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.
You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.
“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”
“Like hell—”
“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.
“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.
Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.
“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.
“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.
“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”
His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Are you infected?”
“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”
“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”
“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”
“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”
He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”
“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”
He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.
“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”
“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.
“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”
A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”
It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.
He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”
You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.
“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”
Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”
“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”
“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.
“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.
“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.
“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”
Oh.
“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”
“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.
“Deadly serious.”
“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.
You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”
“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.
The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.
The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.
The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.
You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.
~~
To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.
“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.
Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.
“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”
“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.
“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.
“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.
“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.
“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”
“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”
“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”
“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”
Damn.
“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.
“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.
Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.
Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.
“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.
“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”
“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.
Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.
“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”
“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”
“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”
“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”
"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”
Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”
“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”
“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.
“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”
“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”
“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”
Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.
“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.
“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.
“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”
“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.
“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.
“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”
Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”
“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.
“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.
Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”
“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”
“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.
Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?
“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.
“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”
“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”
“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”
“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.
“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.
“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.
“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”
“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.
Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”
“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”
The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.
“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”
Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”
And boy, did he fit in.
~~
Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)
He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.
Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?
Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.
“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.
“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.
“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.
“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.
“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.
“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.
“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”
Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.
He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.
That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.
I want to fuck Logan
That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.
~~
You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.
“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”
“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”
“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.
Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”
“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.
“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.
“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”
Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.
He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.
“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”
“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.
He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.
~~
The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.
You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.
He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”
“Stay in bed.”
“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.
“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”
“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.
“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.
You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”
“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.
“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.
Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.
He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.
“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.
He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.
“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.
“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.
“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”
“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.
“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.
~~
Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—
Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.
Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.
“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.
He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.
cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!
P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.
Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!
The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.
“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.
Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.
“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”
Fuck.
“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.
Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.
“Are ya decent?”
So, he did see? Fuck.
“Jus’ a minute.”
Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.
He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.
“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.
Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.
“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.
“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”
“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”
Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.
“Do you have them often?”
The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”
“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”
“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.
“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”
Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.
“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”
“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”
Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.
“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”
Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.
“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.
Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”
“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”
“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”
“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.
“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”
“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”
“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.
“Oh, and Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”
My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…
~~
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etfrin · 1 year ago
Text
⤷❝Don't Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, blood play , knife play, mentions of killing, somnophilia, pussy spanking, impact play (Coryo spanks your ass like twice), riding, mating press, overstimulation if you squint, squirting, dub-con if you squint, fucked up lovesick! reader, fucked up dark! Snow, predator/prey dynamics if you squint, degradation, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie | lmk if I forgot anything
⇢☾Pairing: Ghostface! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: You're trying to outrun Ghostface, you fail and find out that he's your bestie and your love Coriolanus Snow, smut ensues despite the circumstances
⇢☾A/N: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, read this ast your own risk, do not romanticize!
Ps: i love this, depending on the response/feedback I get, I might write more Ghostface! Coryo
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >
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‘Run, run, run’, your mind kept thinking, as the burn of pushing past the wind and all the halls made your legs go weak. You wanted to tear your ears off so you could mute all the screams that were echoing.
You didn't want to die. Fuck it. You're not gonna die.
One of the two Ghostfaces was chasing you, fast but slower than you. Something in your mind told you that they were playing with you. You were just a prey and the predator was being merciful by letting you live for the last time.
Alarms set off in your mind as you dash into an empty classroom, hoping that he will walk past it. You hide behind the door, praying to whoever is above for safety. Nobody listened.
The door to the classroom was opened and you knew it in your bones that you were doomed. That you had to fight, even if you're terrible at it. The creaking sound of the door sent shivers down your spine, your mind going haywire as heavy steps echoed into the empty.
“You can come out, baby,” he said, as he walked in without closing the door, “otherwise you won't get any kindness from me, bird.” The nicknames felt familiar to you but you pay it no mind. As he walks further into the classroom, you decide to slowly get out of your hiding spot to walk out of the door and take a run from it.
You can do it, can't you?
The answer was a no because even when you managed to take a step outside of the classroom, you were yanked back in, and thrown to the floor. The infamous Ghostface is in front of you with a shiny knife that makes your heart go wild but not in the right way. Fear and adrenaline fill your veins as you look around for any sort of weapon but to no avail.
“Don't you fucking come closer,” you snarl at them. “And what are you gonna do if I do, princess? I don't see a prince charming to protect you here,” he mocks you as he kneels, his hand playing around the with the knife in a rather enticing manner. Your eyes pinned on how he played with the knife around, your breath hitching as you could imagine it carving into your skin not to kill you but. . .
You possibly couldn't blame yourself for your thoughts. You knew you had kinks, but you never had a chance to indulge. Your exes were vanilla and you respected that, you never trusted anyone enough to indulge in your fantasies. Except for one person though by accident, he should be safe in his apartment right now.
Coryo. Coryo was safe, he wasn't aware the friend group was going to break into the academy. Coryo had to be safe. Even if you die at the hands of this stranger tonight, Coryo should be fine. He was never part of the main crew after all. His name from the elitists fell due to his wealth being nonexistent, all that existed in Snow was him and his wit. So there's no possible reason for him to be targeted. Coriolanus was safe.
“Cat caught your tongue, doll?” The masked man taunts you, the voice modulator, his knife inching towards your cheek, the blunt side pressing onto your skin. “Fuck off,” you spit out, trying to crawl away from him but you had no strength left. No fight left in you. Your legs hurt, you can't think, and the rest of your friends are fighting or worse dead.
Tears begin to fill your eyes as you begin to think about them. Last you saw Sajanus, he was getting stabbed, Lucy had run, and Tigris… She was one of the killers, you couldn't wrap your head around that. You looked at Ghostface, a pathetic part of wanting to plead for your life but your ego won out. You spit onto their mask. “Fuck you!” you yelled at them.
A growl sounding feral even through the voice modulator could be heard. Ghostface grabs your jaw with his free hand, “You should know better than to do that, pet,” he smirks. He flipped the knife, the sharp end now digging into your skin, cutting up the layer of the cheek so beads of blood would drag themselves onto the knife.
A small whine left you, but it wasn't out of pain. Your body was readily confusing danger with your desires and there's nothing your mind could do about it. Ghostface lets out a chuckle, “Freaky bitch.” His hand was still grabbing your jaw, your legs pushed down by the weight of his body, there was no way for you to fight (you didn't want to) as he used his knife to pop the buttons of your shirt one by one. Your skin, every inch of your torso and chest was exposed to him.
This should have filled ice in your veins, but fire burned instead, you should have yelled at him to stop, plead, anything instead you tried to nip the urge of rubbing your thighs together. Fuck, this turned you on to no end. The thrill. The danger. You were so tired of being good. So what if you end up dead, at least you'll get a good fuck out of this.
His knife begins to cut fine lines onto your skin, near your bra, dragging along the underside of your clothed breast. Red begins to paint across your skin. “Fuck,” you whispered when the knife dug too deeply near your left hip, a long cut that felt like he was carving out a letter. You take multiple deep breaths, trying to keep the tears at the edge. “Stop!” you whispered, “Just kill me, stop.” The murderer didn't reply.
Something felt eerily familiar about him, the way something was carved onto your skin. You sit up a bit, and he doesn't stop you and your eyes fall to the cut he had finished on your hip. A ‘C’. No, no, no, no.
“Coryo,” you groan, in pain and shock. Tigris being one of the killers, you suppose it made sense. But what assured you was the fact Snow was always marking you up, a finger tracing the letters of his name onto your hand, or the tip of a pen inking you with his initials onto your skin. This time he did it with a knife, something so permanent. It was such a Coryo thing to do.
A soft distorted laugh comes out through the mask before his hand lifts it. Coriolanus Snow with his manic blue eyes and a feral grin, his blonde locks disheveled for once greeted you. “You're going to enjoy this, doll,”
“You- I-” You couldn't form a single thought, how could you? Your Coryo (both of you were nothing, both of you were something. So close to being with each other forever but too afraid to jump that hill) was a murderer, he was going to kill you. A boy whom you watched for years grow up to be a man despite the circumstances, whom you had shared your first kiss with and who was your first love and the one who got away because of your cowardice was going to kill you. You were going to die by his hands. Poets would make it seem romantic, dying at the hands of your love seems like a mercy.
It wasn't.
Anybody but him, you didn't want your love to be tainted with this. You didn't want your blood to be on his hands, not on your Snow. “Anyone but you,” you whispered, “Coryo, no!” You flinch away when he leans in and a glare forms in his eyes. “I won't hurt you, doll. You're one of the good ones. You're my pet,” he whispered, his knife pressing onto the bleeding wound of your skin. “I have trained you so well after all,” he smirks.
“What- what do you mean?” You gasp out, your mind on the edge of your sanity. “You aren't afraid, you aren't screaming, you aren't crying and whining like a bitch like those other motherfuckers, are you?” He grins, “It's because your body knows that I won't hurt you. I have trained you to feel safe around me. I am your savior, doll.” He leans in closer, his hot breath hitting your lips with his every word, “You enjoyed the run. You enjoyed the chase. You don't care about dying, you want to be fucked. You didn't know it was me but I bet your slutty cunt is soaking through those panties anyway."
“Am I lying?” He whispered, “Tell me it's a lie, tell me you aren't wet, that you weren't enjoying this and I'll leave.” You couldn't bring yourself to lie, not when you were lost in those eyes. Is this why people say love ends you? It was a weapon that Coryo knew he held, an invisible dragger against your throat. “I-” You wanted to lie, you wanted too, you swear.
Instead, you close the pathetic excuse of a gap between his lips and yours. Your hands grab at his robe, pulling him in as you kiss feverishly. Like he was the air itself, you couldn't breathe, not when both your lips and your tongues meet. The moan you let out of the contact made you realize you had nothing left to yourself. Your mind, your soul, and your marked body belonged to him. The price for falling for the devil. A price you gladly paid.
He breaks the kiss with a gasp, his face in a boyish grin you have seen from childhood. “I knew it. You're mine, dove. Mine.” With that he licks a strip of nearly dried blood from your cheek, dragging his tongue onto your cut and letting out a moan from the taste of iron onto his tongue. Your taste. You whimper as he continues to lav at the blood covering your face, cleaning you up like a dog would.
His cold hands find their way to your back, playing with your bra clasp before finally freeing your breasts from their confines. He pulls back, throwing the knife far away from you both (did it matter? He would win in a fight anyway). His palms knead your breasts, as his needy lips keep pressing against yours.
“Is this real?” He asked, breathless. His fingers roll your nipples until they harden under his touch. You moan in response as your nipples keep getting teased, a sharp gasp leaves as he pinches the nipples hard. “Real or not real?”
“Real,” you whimper, “Real. Real. Real. Real. Coryo, I love you!” He lets out a growl as he hears your confession, his attention towards your breasts getting rougher as he drags his tongue across the canvas of your skin, his teeth marking you up wherever they pleased.
“Of course, you do, baby. I made it so,” he whispered, when his mouth meets your taut nipple, his lips wrapping themselves around the bud to suck as one of his hands was on your back and his opposite hand giving your breast rougher attention. Meanwhile, your hands had found their way into his robes, sliding them off so his shirt and his pants were in view. Your fingers immediately begin to unbutton his shirt to the best of their abilities, your mind not sure whether to focus on the task or the delicious heat of his mouth around your sensitive nub.
Coryo deciding to have mercy (he was sick of your uncoordinated hands, how pathetic you were) took it upon himself to undress while being on task. His lips left to find a home in the cuts he made all over his chest, the small cuts stinging from his licks. But the pain was delicious, could it be considered pain at all with how much you loved it? You suppose not. This was a pleasure, all pleasure given to you by a monster.
His toned muscles came into your view, your hands flying to his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulders causing him to hiss, he was down to your hips now. Near your mark, his initial carved so beautifully against your skin. He had to admire it, he had no choice but to.
“Such a pretty doll. My canvas, I can't wait to have you all to myself, am gonna mark you so nice,” his eyes meet yours. “You have no choice but to let me.”
He pressed a kiss to the deep cut, the blood from it made a mess on the floor. You suspected the only reason you were conscious was because of adrenaline alone. His lips are red with your blood pressed onto your lips, making you taste yourself. You moan, letting yourself be familiarized with the taste for the future.
Your hands find solace in his blonde locks as his hands unbutton your pants. “Let's see how slutty my pet is,” he whispered. He slides off your pants and underwear in one go, his fingers pressing into your heat, gathering the arousal onto his fingertips. He shakes his head, looking displeased (he was more than pleased inside, don't worry), “What a whore.” He pulls his fingers back and strings of your arousal follow. Then smack, smack, smack. Three slaps were delivered to your pussy making you jolt and moan wantonly. Your eyes widen and your cunt begins to ache, reddening from his actions, your clit puffing up and twitching, needing more.
“Please,” you plead, your voice weak, your vision blurry, you need to feel him inside before you black out. “Please, please, Coryo, baby,” you begin to babble, your mind a mess. You feel a kiss on your forehead. “Let go, dove,” he whispered, “I'm gonna keep you safe.”
You wanted to laugh at his words. His actions were the opposite of safe. It was anything but. However, your body had relaxed in his hold, your mind blanking out.
Your mind comes back to reality after hours. You open your eyes to meet pitch black, your body not on the hard cold floor of the academy classroom but on something soft. A bed. “Coryo,” you called, your voice filled with fear.
“Coryo,” you whispered again, turning your body to meet with another warm body. Coryo.
You let out a sigh of relief, and the pain of the incident now settled into your bones, like a distant buzz. You nuzzle into Coriolanus' chest, one of your arms around him. You realize both of you were naked. Completely utterly bare, skin on skin. Your breath hitches, feeling the heat coursing through your body again as you feel his soft cock onto your thigh, so fucking close to your cunt.
You bite your lip in thought, you want to know what happened after you lost consciousness. Were all your friends dead? Did they escape? Did they find out? You also wanted his cock, impatient because you waited for years, and despite the circumstances you knew when to seize opportunities.
Coryo was a heavy sleeper, it was like he slept with the weight of everything on his shoulder. Weight of his world at least. Plus he would like a treat, right? A man as insane as he is, he wouldn't mind your actions even if it solidifies his opinion of you being an whore for him.
Your fingers trace his chest, your palm feeling his heartbeat, your heavy breaths and his quiet ones fill the room. You take your palm and lick it, lubricating it before you grip his length. Your strokes were hesitant, your mind afraid that he would break up and he would be mad. But you feel his cock harden and you love it. You fucking love it. Your pussy gets wet as time goes by and his cock completely hardens.
You take his cockhead and slowly begin to slide it against your pussy lips. A soft moan escapes you as the tip nudges your sensitive clit. Your slick was coated all over his length as you kept grinding against his cock. And soon enough after a particular nudge, his cockhead gets caught in your entrance. It could have easily been pushed away and you could have continued with your actions. But you are pathetically needy and this was not enough.
A whimper escapes your lips as you begin to guide your hips forward to let the cock inside your cunt, stretching out your walls perfectly. You let out a gasp when he was fully in. His cock twitching inside of you. Now was the hard part, fucking yourself onto his cock without him waking up. Impossible but you didn't care at the moment.
You slowly started to roll your hips, taking his length deep inside of you, your walls squeezing around him. You let out soft moans, trying your best to control the animalistic need to ride his cock. Time passes and this continues, the ache of your cunt not fading but getting worse and worse with the need to cum. The pace wasn't enough, no matter how many ways you rubbed your clit raw wasn't enough.
Deciding to play with the devil, you pushed Coryo's sleeping body onto his back, your pussy holding onto his cock as you straddle him. The angle made it so his cockhead kissed your g-spot making you gasp as stars flood your vision, but it didn't trigger your orgasm, your walls oversensitive but throbbing to cum, cum, cum.
You wanted to wake up Snow, wanted him to fuck you, use you, and love you. But you decided against it as you begin to grind your hips, your swollen clit pressing onto his groomed pubic hair, the sensation making you bite your lower lip to stop a loud moan that would surely wake him up.
You couldn't keep up with this long, you wanted to cum, wanted to be filled with his cum as well. You begin to go faster, letting all sense of control out of the window as you slam down his cock again and again, letting his tip nearly breach your cervix.
Smack.
The sound of his hand meeting the meat of your ass freezes you. The area victim of his hit was reddening. “Why did you stop?” He voices, his tone filled with lust “Ride me, bitch. How needy were you that you couldn't wait, huh? Disgusting, truly. I need to train you better, pet.”
An apology remains to be said as his hand slaps your ass again. “Fuck yourself on me, doll,” he grunts, his tone reeking of impatiently. “Co-coryo,” you whine, your hips finding their rhythm but this time with Coriolanus thrusting upwards into your cunt, disrupting your pace. But neither of you cared, both of your actions borderlining to those of mating animals under a full moon.
His hands hold you down, gripping your hips tightly with his fingers printing onto your skin. It puts pressure on your previous wound, making you cry out and tighten your pussy around him reflexively. You wonder if your wound began to bleed again because the smell of blood began to stink in the air along with the distinct smell of sex.
Your thoughts were proven correct as one of his hands left your hip in favor of licking his palm on which your wound had bled. His thrusts turn frantic as the taste of iron blooms onto his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, Coryo!” You begin to moan, louder and louder as heat begins to coil up on your lower tummy. Your gummy walls get slicker and slicker as your sensitive nerves go overdrive with his thrusts.
He lets out a groan, and in a flash, you are on your back onto the mattress, pressed into it as his mouth latches onto your jaw. His hips rutted into you without a care. “You taste so fucking delicious, I bet your cunt tastes wonderous too, princess,” he moans as his teeth begin to bite into the flesh of your neck, his erratic pace bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your hands find themselves on his back, your nails scratching his skin and forming red lines which sting but he loves it so much. So fucking much. His hands pushed your legs up, pressing your knees onto your chest. He has you folded onto a mating press position. His cock reaching impossible depths inside of you.
A particular thrust of his made his cock fuck into your cervix, it makes you scream from the pleasure and pain of all, your body finally letting go. Your cunt spasming, milking his cock for what it's worth as clear liquid squirted out of you, covering Coryo who merely groans from it all.
He fucks you through your orgasm, his cock hitting all the right angles and as your pussy tightens around his cock just right. He cums, deep and nice into your womb. He continues to roll his hips into you, his pace slowing down as he fucks his hot, thick cum into you.
He lets out a shuddering breath as he pulls out and lays beside you. Both of catching your breaths. He breaks the silence first.
“I am going to tell you everything, doll but let me clean up the wound first.”
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prettiedup · 9 months ago
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do u write for sukunaaaa
if so can we have cum denial wit him. like fingering n teasing reader till she’s crying n babbling 🐾 <3
sugarpie ୨ৎ
not getting sukuna’s attention has you acting out ୨ৎ
yeah probs mii first nd last time writing abt kuna ^.^ i really enjoyed doing dis for u tho ^_^
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⋆。‧˚ʚɞ˚‧。⋆ SUGARPIE ⋆。‧˚ʚɞ˚‧。⋆ --->  rough fingering, pet names (baby, princess, mama), shameless use of the word daddy :P, begging, clit slapping, squirting, daddydom!kuna, lawyer!kuna, orgasm denial
“kuna.” you drag out his name as you climb onto his lap. it’s been hours since he’s given you any sort of attention, you understood that the paperwork he is working on is extremely important. he briefly explained to you days prior about taking on a big case that would bring in a lonesome amount of money once everything was said and done. which is fine, of course you’re gonna support your kuna in whatever he takes on. but what isn’t fine is his attention being diverted to papers instead of you.
he grumbles out while he leans to your side so that he could see what was displayed on his desk. you sit quietly on his lap for a few moments, your mind is racing with how you could get his attention back onto you. a deep rooted, responsible and sensible side of you reminds you that he’s working and he told you that he would be busy on it, you know you’re being selfish but you can’t find it in you to care. if anything it’s sukuna’s fault for spoiling you so much! 
“kuna.” you whine again. your head lays on his hard shoulder while your hands begin slithering against his waist. even through his shirt you could feel the hardened muscles, you loved just running your acrylic tips over his muscles and watching them tense every now and then. “daddy, are you ignoring me?” you ask with a frown that sukuna didn’t need to see, he could hear it in your voice.
“‘f course not, baby. ‘m just busy trying to sign these documents.” sukuna barely pays attention to the words coming out of his mouth as he jots down more and more onto the paper. 
“aren’t you tired?” you huff, “can’t you just take a little break?”
“not right now. i need to stay on top of this case ‘nd fill out as much as i can as fast as i can.” he suddenly leans down a little to grab a paper thats on the far end of his desk. you wrap your arms tighter around him, but you know sukuna would never let you fall. no matter how busy and out of it he seems.
you don’t like that response at all. you roll your eyes at his resistance and settle with resting your head on the crook of his neck. you breathe in his cologne. the colognes’ he wears pairs so well with his natural scent. they smell so warm but masculine in a way. you close your eyes, opting to lay there and enjoy the feeling of his heart thumping and his body movements each time he inhales and exhales. you use the sound of the pen sliding against the paper as white noise.
you hum softly against him. this is better than being in separate rooms, you suppose. you would prefer for his attention to be on you completely but you’ll take what’s given at the moment. usually, you’d be chattering away about minuscule things while sukuna works but he quickly shut that down weeks ago.
“my office is my sanctuary, princess. i don’t care if you come ‘n here but you have to stay quiet so daddy can focus.” the firmness in his tone left no room for debate, which is why you slowly nodded your head while looking up at him.
you were only able to sit still and quiet for a few minutes, you tried, you really did. but you couldn't contain yourself from letting out littles hums and shifting your hips every few minutes. your little thin panties would get snagged on the shape of his cock causing little whimpers to escape from your throat when it does happen. sukuna doesn’t comment on anything you do, only occasionally patting your thigh when he deems you are moving too much.
“kuna, please.” you whine out as you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him fully. you didn’t have to say what you wanted, he knew. he always does.
“‘m working, mama.” he reminds you. irritation is seeping through his usual tone. hearing the slowly growing firmness begin to take over his words causes little hairs to stand up on your body, you both loved and hated when he talked to you like this.
“i don’t care! i need you kuna!” you clutch at his shirt with your hands. the hairs continue to stand.. no way you just raised your voice at him. a twitch of fear settles in your stomach. 
“watch your tone.” he stops writing completely. 
“wouldn’t have gotten loud if you would’ve jus’ paid attention to me.” you mutter under your breath as you begin getting off of his lap.
“the fuck you just say?” 
୨୧
“kuna, i can’t! ‘s too much please!” you cry out as his thick fingers roughly pump into your fat pussy. the sounds of your arousal coating his digits filled the room, you were so fucking wet. he had already managed pull an almost orgasm out of you. he waited until you were breathing heavy and for your legs to be shaking desperately to pull away. 
he doesn’t respond to you, only forcing your legs further with one hand while adding another finger. you squeal and whine while clutching on his wrist. his fingers are so fucking thick inside your sensitive pussy. your clutch at his wrist does nothing to slow him down.
your poor pussy could do nothing but take his aggressive fingers, you thrashed around on his lap which only made him slink an arm around your waist to hold you in place.  fat tears ran down your cheeks as he continued holding your legs open so that he could continue to fill you.
everything about sukuna is thick. not just his fingers, but his cock (especially that), his muscles, his personality. those were just minor reasons that added up to why you loved him. 
hearing the humiliating squelch, squelch, squelch and just feeling your arousal dripping down from your everflowing pussy to his lap. if you weren’t getting fucked stupid by his fingers you would’ve been embarrassed from the growing wet spot that is forming on his slacks. 
“talkin’ t’me crazy.. have you lost your fucking mind?” he asks. with every word he’s hammering his fingers as deep as he possibly could, it’s almost to the point that it hurts. you whimper out a soft “daddy” and try to close your legs to prevent him from continuing to abuse your poor pussy.
you can’t find it in you to say a response, instead, you let out loud mewls and sobs. sukuna doesn’t take much appreciation to his words being met with silence, with a rough huff he pulls out the hand that’s fucking you to oblivion to give you three rough slaps against your right thigh.
a piercing sob breaks through your lips,“yes! daddy! ah! yes! i'm sorry daddy!” you didn’t even know what you were saying. loud sniffles mixed with the words you slobbered out. you were a complete mess, you loved when sukuna got you like this.
“‘s okay, though. don’t worry, baby. daddy’s going to make sure you remember your manners.” he plunges his fingers back into you with no warning prompting an unexpected orgasm to shoot from your sensitive pussy. he groans and begins slapping at your clit. squeals escape from deep in your throat. he remembers specifically telling you not to cum until he said so.
“daddy! oh! ah! ah! i’m sorry!” you try to crawl away from the intensity of your orgasm. sukuna clicks his teeth and roughly pushes you back up so that your back is aligned evenly to his chest. you’re fully sobbing now as a stream leaks out and sprays onto his fingers, lap, and parts of his paperwork. 
“no more, kuna, puhllleeaaa-ahhmygodd..” your sentence is broken when he powers his movements back up. you’re still leaking out your orgasm when he adds a third finger. “daddy! kuna! baby! pleaseee, no more!” drool leaks from the corners of your mouth as you are dumbly babbling out to him.
“tch.” he sighs. “cummin’ even when i told you not to. you must really not be my good girl now? hm?” you could hear the smirk in sukuna’s voice. usually when he finds your actions amusing, you’d pout at him. but you were so fucked out all you could do is continue to grip his wrist weakly.
“‘s too much, kuna. toooo muchhhh.” you groan. you try closing your legs around his hand once again and this time sukuna bites down on your shoulder making you squirm. he didn’t bite down hard, he made sure to only use enough force to make you stop moving.
“keep ignorin’ me.” he warns. “your second time now. even while getting punished, you’re still actin’ up.” he jeered. “maybe you’re not my good girl after all.” 
“‘m your good girl. promise. ‘m your good girl.” you sniffle, he was still rubbing his fingers against your walls filling you up jussttt right. your eyes glance down and you could see his hand sparkling with your arousal and to make matters more intense his fingers are etched with your cream. you could only whine at the sight.
he places soft kisses on the side of your neck and jaw. “watch me fuck my pussy.” he mumbles while placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. “gonna make sure my pussy gets all the attention it's been beggin’ for, and you better not fucking cum again until i say so.”
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twstowo · 11 months ago
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True Love Kiss But He Isn't The One [Housewardens+Jamil]
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You have fallen under a sleeping spell and only a kiss of true love can break it, he kisses you but you don’t wake up.
♡︎ Since I love angst I decided to write this
♡︎ I’m adding Jamil because this fits him so much not because im biased or anything like that
♡︎Warning: Angst, blood in Jamil’s part, Malleus is kinda yandere
♡︎Second part
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⋆⋅☆Riddle
His gaze holds a pained expression as he watches you. Not seeing any reaction after kissing you, he waits, hoping the spell might take time to break. But as minutes pass, his heart beats fast, aching painfully as he begins fearing the worst—that he might not be the one you love. His head bows, fighting back tears.
You were his first love, someone who made him feel like no one else ever had. To him, you meant everything. Even if he's not the one, he stays by your side, tending to you. He refuses to let anyone else kiss you, unwilling to discover who your true love might be. Instead, he focuses on finding a potion or magical spell that could awaken you.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Leona
He broke the lamp next to your bed. Consumed by heartbreak and rage, he couldn't control his emotions. Was it all a way to win his favor? Did you only care about his money? Did he hold no significance to you, despite your importance to him? Storming out of the room, he leaves you to your fate, vowing never to return. Someone else will need to assist you. He fears that if he ever lays eyes on you again, he might commit the gravest mistake of his life—doing something to make you despise him forever.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Azul
He can't bring himself to look at you. He even kissed you twice, feeling devastated after seeing you not wake up from the first kiss. How could you do this to him? You made him feel so relaxed and open, sharing his deepest, darkest secrets that he wouldn't tell anyone else, only for him to realize he might not hold your heart. He isn't angry at you, he's angry at himself. He's not as great as he envisions himself to be, and you knew it. You'd always seen through his fake smiles.
He doesn't return to see you, but even after such heartbreak, his heart still belongs to you. He prepares a potion to break the spell. However, don't expect anything more from him.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Kalim
He can't hold back his tears, convinced that something's amiss with the spell and that you truly love him. Jamil has to take him out of the room otherwise, he'd stay there until he witnesses you waking up. Thoughts of you consume him, he's willing to spare all his money for a potion that could awaken you. Even after you awaken, he won't leave your side. Despite knowing you may not reciprocate his feelings, he's determined to be there for you.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Jamil
He's utterly disappointed in himself, feeling ashamed for even thinking that kissing you would alter anything. How foolish he was, how naive... He bites his lip so hard that blood drips onto the floor, his gaze fixed on your peaceful expression. He contemplates his love for you and the folly of ever hoping for your reciprocation. Storming out of the room, he's relieved no one saw him entering. You'll never discover that he had been there. You didn’t need to know how much he liked you.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Vil
Vil handles this situation better than anyone else, he comprehends that your feelings for him don't mirror his own, and he's accepting of that. He seeks another way to awaken you, and when you regain consciousness, he'll be there to support you. Even though he didn't capture your heart before the spell, he's determined that he can certainly do so after.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Idia
He locks himself inside his room, crying inconsolably. Not even Ortho can take him out. When he discovers that you're finally awake, he avoids learning how it happened, unwilling to entertain the possibility that someone other than him might have kissed you. Mustering all his courage to give you a kiss was a testament to his genuine love for you, a feeling that still lingers within him. He doesn’t know what to do with these emotions.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Malleus
He truly believed that the two of you were destined for each other. The way you made him experience such unfamiliar emotions, feeling wanted and less lonely, all the hours spent talking, the gentle touches, and the enamored looks he'd give you—it had all been one-sided. He gazes at your sleeping face, knowing he possesses the power to wake you up with a spell. Yet, he hesitates. What if he awakens you, and you run to someone else instead of him? The mere thought is unbearable to him.
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