#i know the buildings are rough don't come for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 4 hours ago

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you get me. you GET me. you get me so much i screamed when you laid down what you got. UGHHH. literally i hope to write more fics that will interest you because UGHHHHH you just get meeeeeeee its sooo goodddd

i also i too use girl as gender neutral sLAYYY.

I'm so happy you love the cargyll twins 🥺🫶🫶

The way we always see her as *herself*, beyond her ailment, beyond her concerns of putting up an act, both as a Hightower daughter and/or a Targaryen wife. She's just herself, without being worried that she's disappointing Otto or Daemon.

this is it. this is literally how i envisioned their dynamic to be yknow. when you commented on this once before i leapedddddd for joy it LEAPED really. you get me. you get meeee.

she's just a girl when she's with them. just a girl who loves to swim and pick flowers. did you actually sob cos of the scene with erryk? 🫂🫂🫂 but also... love that for me HAHAHAH.

(I don't even want to think about the fact that the last time she experienced something like this was probably in old town w gwayne when they were children)

dw. i like to think the sibs snuck out to go for a swim for the last time before she was married to daemon. to cheer her up yknow. alicent was there too <3

I love the way you portray Otto's relationship [...]

THISSSSSSSS. THISSSS. YOU JUST GET MEEEE T_T SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. I literally JUST ranted about this to my friend that everyone is like 'daemon is trying' WHAT ABOUT OTTO I WROTE HIM THAT WAY TOO AND YOU JUST 😫😫😫��😫 FUCKK YOU GETTT MEEEEEe

[...] with the reader because he's not black and white with his motives, only using his daughter to raise his House's standing. Rather, he's a complex character with layers, he's still a father - albeit a shitty one at that.

YOURE SOOOOOO ON POINT WITH EVERYTHING LITERALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY i thought it was really important to expound on this because DAEMON IS LITERALLY OTTO TO HER!!! BUT IN A WAY BETTER BECAUSE AT LEAST DAEMON IS CAPABLE OF SOME SORT OF AFFECTION. she's like 'ok my dad treats me this way, ergo my husband treating me this way is fine' !!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is so important fr fr because we accept the love we think we deserve.

He loves his daughter, in his own twisted way. How he ensures that she's not having a fit before dropping the baby bomb on her. He worries for her, knows her ticks.

💯 no notes

But it's the way he uses his love and knowledge regarding her to get his own way and to get the reaction he wants out of her that's the most twisted.

THIS!!!!!! ok im so fucking excited i just want to tell you BUT ALL WILL BE REVEALED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER IVE BEEN BUILDING THIS SHIT UP FOR SO LONG IM SO FUCKING GLAD YOU CAUGHT ON IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY.

Also, I love how we're seeing mc slowly but surely starting to stand up for herself. WE LOVE GROWTH IM SO PROUD OF HER, I COULD CRY.

<3 but also..... who's gonna tell her (not me)

Day 173822 of begging daemon to just be normal for once in his life.

ur so me fr bestie

Honestly speaking, I was one of the few that voted for reader to prioritise herself and not go after either gwayne or daemon but ohh!!! I loved loved loved this scene.

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯 AS YOU SHOULD. AS YOU FUCKING SHOULD. I WAS AND AM STILL ACTUALLY VERY GAGGED THAT THAT POLL WOUND UP THAT WAY. SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING TOTALITARIANISM BECAUSE THIS DEMOCRACY AINT WORKING FOR ME CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN COMFORT DAD BOI DAEMON???????? YUCKKK i mean i get it but DAMNNNN?????

her whole arc with gwayne was rough. spolier? i dont plan on bringing him back at all so </3 if he comes back well 😬😬 shits about to go down

ALSO DAEMON YOU LITTLE RAT,

HAHAHHAHAHHAHAH YOU LIKE ME FR FR FR I TOO CALL HIM RAT HAHAHAHAH AND EVERYONE ELSE THAT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT BEING MAD AT MY GIRL FOR NOT BEING THERE WHEN YOU DEGRADED HER THE LAST TIME AND NOT IN THE SEXY WAY!!!!

😬 yeesh fr.

Her telling him to speak what he wants and not twist his words is soooo real. YES GIRLL SET IT STRAIGHT WE DONT WANT EXTRA HEADACHES IN OUR LIVES!!

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯 AGAIN AND AGAIN YOU GET ME YOU DONT MISSSSSSSS

I just remembered that she still thinks that night was a dream and I'm heartbroken again </3

dw. she'll find out it wasnt a dream.............. eventually

Pls daemon why do you have to choose aggression and rage every fucking time. Just be cute for once ugghhh.

UR LITERALLY ME FRRR HAHAHHAHHAHA

EVEN THE LINE YOU QUOTEDDDD i feared people might overlook it BUT YOU SAW. YOU GET ME. AND THATS MORE THAN ENOUGH.

I am so honored to have gotten your lovely reblog. i will 100% tag you my love. i'm glad you like my fic and my brain and my words. i love you so much. literally if there is something you want to see in this fic, just tell me and i'll make it happen for you fr fr.

Tormented Spirit | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.

He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.

"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.

Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"

"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"

"HOPSCOTCH!"

A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.

"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.

You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."

Erryk's face only contorts further.

"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."

In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.

"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."

He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."

You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."

Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."

You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.

He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."

You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.

He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"

He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.

You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"

Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"

Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"

"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."

You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."

Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."

"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"

Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."

"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.

"Say what?" you knit your brows.

Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.

You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"

Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."

You feel bile rise up your throat.

"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."

You shake your head, and gather your skirts.

"As has the prince."

Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.

As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.

You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.

Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"

You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"

"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."

"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."

Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"

"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."

He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."

You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"

"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.

Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"

Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"

You stare blankly at him.

He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"

You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."

Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.

You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.

"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"

You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."

Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."

Your jaw clenches.

"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."

You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

You whip your head to him and pull away.

Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.

"W-what?"

He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."

You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.

"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."

Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.

You try to take his hand, but he slips away.

"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.

Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.

"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.

You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"

"Perhaps you should sit down first."

You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.

"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.

You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.

"Princess, please, slow down," one says.

You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.

"Princess."

You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.

You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.

Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.

It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.

You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."

He stares at you wordlessly.

You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."

You nod, "I know."

"Go to him," he says softly.

"I-"

"Go to him!" he snaps.

You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.

Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.

"If it is your command, I shall obey."

He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."

You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."

Daemon does not move.

"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."

It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.

You stare.

"You do not want to go to him?"

Your lips part.

He raises his brows.

"I... I do."

Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.

The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.

"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.

Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.

The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.

Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"

Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.

"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.

He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.

"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."

He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."

"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.

Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.

Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"

His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."

"I'm fine."

"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.

You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."

You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"

"No."

You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,

"This is glass."

"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"

Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."

You pull your head back, "on accident?"

"On purpose," he tilts his head.

You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"

He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."

You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.

It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."

"..."

"You were not there."

You do not tear your gaze from his injury.

He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.

You continue wrapping up his hand.

"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.

"Why?"

His brows furrow.

"Why was I being a bitch?"

"..."

You spare him a quick glace.

He pulls his head back, "... what?"

"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"

His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?

You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.

Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?

You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."

Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.

"How do you feel?"

He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.

"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."

He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.

You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."

His eyes meet yours.

"I am here to care and comfort you."

He leans back, taken by the thought.

You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."

His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."

You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.

"I don't-"

"Daemon."

He stills.

You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.

He feels himself getting hard.

"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.

Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.

You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"

"I..." he starts.

You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.

"...wanted you to come to my tent."

You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."

"I want you."

You nod, "I will tend to you—"

Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.

He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.

Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.

You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."

He hums, nipping your flesh in response.

You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"

He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.

"Please, Daemon, wait-"

"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"

Your breath hitches as he sinks down.

"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"

"I- that's not-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"I... I do—"

You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.

He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.

You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.

Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.

Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.

You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.

Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.

"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.

You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.

He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.

Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.

At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.

His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.

"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.

He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.

You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.

"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."

You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."

Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."

He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.

"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."

You begin to grit your teeth.

"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.

It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.

He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.

You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.

You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.

Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"

You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."

Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.

The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."

You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."

Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"

You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"

He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"

You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"

Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."

You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.

"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."

His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.

Your heart races as he takes your hand.

"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."

You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."

He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.

He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.

"Daemon."

He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.

You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"

"I will stay."

You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."

He frowns, wiping your tears.

When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.

"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.

He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."

#prettybiching cutie #prettybiching my beloved #tormented spirit #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon smut #you can have my heart #n my kidney

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peoniesnro · 1 day ago

Text

In Another Universe

#11. Jeon Jungkook

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Some public stuff (well you know)/ Unportected sex/ Mirror sex/ Cumming inside/ Hotel room sex/ Rough sex/ Spanking/ Word 'slut' and 'whore'/ Multiple orgasms (f.recieving)/Foot kink!!!!!! (I don't know if I've missed any)/ Angst / INFIDELITY

Word count- 18k

a/n- Should I try to wrap it up with 16 chapters or should I make it 20? (Thank you for reading like always. Lv u all❤️)

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

“You hired her?”

Jimin nearly spills the milk he has been pouring into the bowl of cereal at the loud and sudden voice of Liya. It is with a bit of struggle that he manages to hold it steady. A sigh leaves his lips. He closes his eyes trying to compose himself before he turns around to face his girlfriend. Slowly. As if she doesn’t startle him at all. Jimin’s eyes land on Liya. Taking her presence in. She looks more than angry. Expression incredulous.

“What?” He asks softly. Voice calm and collected. It’s not that he doesn’t know. He knows very well who she is referring to. What she’s referring to. Honestly, he’s a bit surprised that it took this long for this question to come front. He expected Liya to storm toward him and ask this question the very next day you started working for his company. It seems like Emi was slow at reporting that. Yet he doesn’t want to look like he expected this. So, he keeps staring at her with emotionless eyes.

“You know what I mean Jimin.” Liya takes a step forward. “Are you serious? What were you thinking─”

“I didn’t hire her. Hoseok did.” Jimin interrupts her blustering. He’s tired of this. Simply doesn’t think Liya should be interfering with his business. She normally doesn’t do that. They don’t poke their noses in each other’s work. Yet, there are times like this. Like when Jimin flat-out refused to offer the CMO post to Liya’s cousin. Like when Jimin refused to become a subsidiary of the Kim group. There were such instances where Liya thought she has the right to tell him what to do or not. Always ended up in a huge fight, however. Jimin knows this is going to be another one. He’s certain when Liya sneers.

“Yeah? Like that? He can do whatever he wants?”

“Yes.”

Another loud scoff.

“What’s that make your company? Anyone can do anything? Is your company a circus?”

“Yes. And that shouldn’t be any of your concerns Liya. Stay out of it. And Hoseok isn’t just anybody. He’s the CMO and a damn co-owner.”

“As if he has done anything to earn it.”

Jimin feels something explode within him. His entire vision turning red instantly. Liya always does this. There was a time where Jimin bore with it. Just listened to her without arguing back. And he feels fucking guilty for doing that. Not anymore, though. No. One day and one moment he decided to fight back. Jimin closes the distance between them in one long step. Fire burning in his eyes.

“Take that fucking back.” Gritts through his clenched teeth. Stares her down. Liya takes a step back. Her expression still furious. Eyes never leaving Jimin’s. He just knows she isn’t going to do that. She never does.

“I’m feeling so sorry for you Jimin. You really are gonna lose all the shits you’ve worked hard for. All because you trust your stupid friends too much─”

“Kim fucking Liya!” Jimin surprises himself at how loud he shouts. Liya winces visibly, involuntarily taking another step back. A gasp leaving her mouth. “Just listen to me this time because I’m already fucking tired of telling you this. I would be no one without them. You have a problem with them? Then you should stay out of my business. You have your own to worry about. Let me decide whether I want to lose what I’ve worked for or build something more. Just stay the fuck away Liya.” Jimin almost turns around with that to his cereal which is probably soggy now, when Liya chuckles. Shakes her head slightly.

“Well, you want me to stay away from the business. I will.” She takes the two steps she took back, forward again. Tilting her head upward to take a good look at Jimin. “Let’s see where you go. Let’s see how long it’ll take you to ask help from me again. And you should listen to me too Jimin. You’re my fucking boyfriend. Soon to be fiancé. And if you think we’re still in college and have the freedom to do whatever we want, you’re wrong. The whole country─” She grits her teeth. “The entire damn business world knows we are dating. One single mistake would cause the downfall for both of us. In that case, I don’t think having my twin sister- that nobody ever knew about- close is a wise idea. People have eyes Jimin. And so do they talk. Maybe you don’t care about losing all your hard work for good-for-nothing friends, but I do. I will not just watch Hoseok, and that woman ruin my life. If I was you, I would make sure she is out of my sight before, she’s not going to be able to work because of that pain.”

With that Liya turns around in her heels. Storms away. Leaving a raging Jimin behind. Jimin doesn’t even realize he’s grinding his teeth together to dust. Doesn’t even realize that his jaw aches. That his fists are curled so tight that he might be hurting himself.

Was that a threat?

Did she fucking threaten him?

It is completely unintentional how he slams his bunched-up fist into the kitchen counter. Doesn’t feel the pain for fractured second. Then there it comes. Almost unbearable. Makes him screw his eyes shut and groans. Still, though, it feels good. There’s rage inside him that can cause him to murder someone. Well, it’s not like he can hit a woman. This way’s better. Jimin grips the counter with his both hands. Tightly. Trying to calm down. Trying to think rationally and see clearer through the red that has covered his sight.

It's fine. It’s just fine.

It’s not like Liya can actually do anything about this situation. She’s talking since she’s mad. Jimin knows that it’s not jealousy. No. Liya is simply worried about that damn reputation. It’s not like there’s anything really happening for people to talk. He hasn’t even got a chance to be with you properly to be honest. Not after that day after you walked to him. It was the first and last till now. Hoseok is a little shit who has made sure you barely get any alone time these days. Jimin wasn’t very shocked when you told him that Hoseok knows. He kind of knew something was up with his friend. Neither of you knew what’s his friend’s intentions were clearly. But in the end, it didn’t matter. Hoseok never brought the topic up with Jimin. And so Jimin did what he’s best at. You both did. Pretending. Pretending like there’s nothing wrong. Pretending like Hoseok doesn’t know of your secret. It was easier that way. And life was going so damn well.

Even though he didn’t really get a chance to be with you, in any sexual way, life had been so damn good for him. He loves all the small but precious moments with you. Knows it’s not normal to crave your presence when it isn’t sexual at all. Yet he can’t help it. All the times you would bring his coffee. Tells him how Hoseok is a little piece of shit to make you sit for three hours with Jin. Tells him about your day. He finds it invaluable. All the time you would walk past each other down a hallway. Every time you would catch his eyes when you do. The small smile tugs on your lips when you see him. Jimin finds them coveted. Every sneaky and risky kiss you shared. Your smell and soft voice. He finds them treasured. See, life is good. So good for him after a long time. For years it has been just pressure of earning money and balancing a relationship. Now he feels carefree. And he does not wish to trade that feeling.

No. He wants to delve into this feeling. Wants to feel this flutter in his stomach as long as he can. You’re too precious to let go. Not again. It was pure torture. He’s really at peace with the fact that he’s an asshole. That he’s a selfish prick. That he’s cheating. It’s fine. It’s really fine as long as he has you. He isn’t going to let anyone, not even Liya, steal that from him. True, that he might be a coward for not being able to put an end to this strained relationship, but he’s not going to sit and watch you go. He would like to see Liya try.

Oh, hell yeah, he would.

…………………………………………..

Jungkook straightens up from the wall he’s been leaning on. Rolls his stiff neck after staring in the same direction for exactly twenty minutes. Yes, he has been counting. He feels uneasy. You’re late today; you usually arrive hours earlier. He doesn’t like the idea of you coming home alone. But you insisted. You can be really stubborn when you want to. Nothing he ever said to persuade you or to convince you that it’s not trouble for him to pick you up, has worked. You had apparently decided you want to be that bad independent bitch the moment you received your paycheck.

This is the third day you are coming home alone. And so, this is the third day Jungkook is leaning against the wall next to his apartment door. Hoping to hear the creak of the third step of the staircase soon. It’s not that he really wanted to be this worried and act like a stressed dad. It’s simply that he can’t help it. He can’t help but be worried. Jungkook naturally is a person that thinks too much about other people that it often tends to backfire. People would always use his kindness. He still does it, however. Care. The thing is though, it’s not just that caring he feels toward you. At first, it was just that. Then after you started to share his apartment, it has turned into something more.

Oh, how he is so accustomed to your presence. How he likes it. To have you lounging on his couch in the evening, scrolling through your phone and snorting. Showing him the memes that’s not hilarious at all, yet he laughs anyway. To use the shower after you, only to scream at how hot the water is. You don’t listen when he complains. You say it’s the perfect temperature. To have you saunter around his kitchen. Teaching him how to properly crack an egg. You would always end up with a piece of shell on your omelet. To have movie nights just to talk through it and to have no idea what the movie was about. To have your scent. Your clothes. Your belongings scattered around. How he doesn’t want to lose it.

He won’t say he likes you. And he won’t say he doesn’t like you either. You certainly caught his eye the first day he saw you. But then he thought you were off limit. Thought you were Park Jimin’s woman. Then here you are. After everything, you are with him. Jeon Jungkook. And he’s slowly starting to become attached. That much is certain. Jungkook can’t even imagine how it would be to have you moved away from his place. He would miss your dearly. Maybe if he budge you enough, you’ll change your mind. You’ll decide you can share his space, as long as you want.

The long-awaited creaking sound is what causes Jungkook to snap out of his reverie. Perking up right at the moment to find you turning the corner of the staircase. Panting slightly. Your eyes instantly land on him. A bright smile breaking across your face upon seeing him. Well, Jungkook can’t control the way his own lips stretched wide. Can’t control how he spreads his arms. Can’t definitely control the way his heart skips a beat when you throw yourself into his arms. Maybe he’s so wrong. He should say he likes you.

“You’re late Noona.”

“A woman had me dog sitting.” You whine adorably. Oh, so fucking adorably. Jungkook snorts all the while squeezing you in his arms.

“Yeah, how’s that happen?”

“Just happened. You know how my life is. I couldn’t say no.”

Of course he knows. “You need to learn how to say no. You can start practicing by saying No to your annoying boss.”

It’s your time to snort. You’ll always insist that Hoseok isn’t annoying your ass all the time. But that’s what the bugger is doing. He overworks you. Yet, you’re more than happy to work for him. See now, Jungkook was wondering what the reason might be. You were so stressed when you first started working for Hoseok. Jungkook really had thought you would quit. You didn’t. You stuck to it. He thought you were sticking to the money at first. But after these few weeks. As you’re visibly elated, Jungkook thinks that’s not the case at all. No. There’s something else. And he’s afraid to know what it is. Because he is getting attached.

He is attached.

He ignores whatever you’re saying to his advice. Simply starts to walk backward with you still in his arms. Swaying you left and right. Ignores your whines as well. Maybe… Just maybe all he has to do is hurry up. Hurry up before someone who doesn’t deserve you start to play you. And Jungkook has a strong feeling that someone would be the CEO of your company. You’ve shared a history together after all. A history where Jungkook didn’t exist. He feels a twinge of jealousy, but above everything he feels worried. If the reason behind your adorable smile these days, is the person Jungkook thinks who he is. Then he should hurry up. Because Park Jimin will ruin you. Oh, he will. For a fact, Jungkook knows that guy wasn’t jealous of Jungkook over Liya. Park Jimin was jealous of him over you.

The end of Jimin’s game would leave you hurt and alone. And Jungkook is too attached to you to let that happen.

Maybe he should hurry up.

……………………..

You reluctantly let Jimin pull away from your lips. He’s panting hard. Gaze dark and fixed on your lips. You’re once again seated at his office desk. Enjoying a rare moment of solitude. Hoseok being in a meeting and Emi is out for some tasks which Jimin has deliberately assigned to her. You have no idea where Jin or Taehyung is. You don’t care either. All that matters is Park Jimin. The way he hungrily sucks on your lips again. His hands roaming over your sides. The way he pulls away a bit to trail his lips over your jaw and neck.

“Jimin…” You purr gently. He just hums in answer without detaching his lips from your neck. “We really can’t.” You pull him even closer despite your words. You’re having a moment after a long time, yes. Yet, that doesn’t make it less risky. It’s still early morning. You can’t have all your makeup ruined. People will definitely know you’ve gotten fucked. Can’t disheveled Jimin’s hair. This moment is precious, yes. Yet, you can’t afford to fuck in this moment.

“Why not?” Jimin whines in your ear.

“Emi would be here any minute.”

“So what? She’s not gonna come inside.”

“We’re definitely not fucking while your secretary is waiting outside.”

You gently show him away. He doesn’t even budge. Just presses himself more into you. Grabs from your thighs to pull you closer. “C’mon Lil, I’m fucking… ugh…” His words die down as he’s back to suck on the delicate skin of your neck. Rational thoughts are slipping through your brain. Heart erratically beating and you’re already starting to sweat. It’s too hot in Jimin’s air-conditioned office room. But you want to press yourself more into him. You know what he tried to say. You’re feeling the same. Desperate. Touch starved. Jimin’s touch. You can’t though. Not now.

“You should take me somewhere else, seriously.” You angle your head so he can suck on your neck some more. Wraps your legs around his waist to lock him in place. Jimin squeezes the flesh in your hips in response. Mutters against your skin.

“It’s not my fault your boss is an asshole and makes you work, day and night straight.” Jimin grinds his hips on to you. Creating a heavenly friction between your thighs. Gets you gasping. You try to suppress the sounds.

“Ha, like his friend! Oh, fuck Jimin…” You buck your hips into his. Can feel the evident bulge rubbing against your clothed core. “But seriously, not now. What if Jin or Tae barged in. Those morons don’t know anything about knocking.” You try again.

“You feel good though.” Jimin grinds even harder. “I can make you cum in just three minutes hm?” Stops the ministrations on your skin just to peck your lips. Keeps his face there while he stare into your eyes. With his dark and hooded ones. Oh, how tempting. How good it’ll be to have him pound into you on this same desk as the last time. Then how much chaos would it cause if anyone is to walk in.

“No. Not now” You manage to push him away this time. Stll, so gentle. Jimin takes a step away from you. Making you instantly miss his warmth. It’s a struggle not to hold him with your legs. He pouts. Cute. Takes another step away. You’re pouting too.

“You’re mean.” Plops back into his chair. You’re both still panting and breathless. You give him a soft smile, ready to get down from the table when Jimin stops you. Just drags his chair closer to you. “Don’t leave yet.” Presses a gentle kiss to your knee. Another moan sips past your trembling lips.

“Jimin.” Your voice turns stern now. He doesn’t care. Gifts you with another kiss. Then another. And just as you’re thinking he’s about to guide his mouth upward he draws back.

“I’m not trying anything funny baby. Just can’t help myself.” Looks at you with his eyes glinting. Startles you a bit when he suddenly grabs from your ankle. You gasp. Trail of protests spill from your mouth when he lifts your foot to rest on his thigh. Not caring about the fact that you’re still wearing your heels.

“J-Jimin, you gonna get dirt on your clothes.” You try to free your foot when he gently starts to massage your ankle. His thumb circling gently.

“Don’t care. Have I told you that you have pretty legs.” He slides his hand toward your calf. Keep massaging. His touch is gentle. Yet it feels like burning your skin. Presses another kiss. This time inclined a bit inward your knee. You look down at him while your head is spinning. Arousals shooting downward through your body. Pooling inside your underwear. Yet you can’t find it in yourself to stop him again. You’re on the verge of giving up. How much of an effect he has on you. How your heart is fluttering and swelling at the sight of him. Isn’t he worshiping you? Why would he do that? Why does he look like he’s so smitten? Why do you like this feeling?

“Oh, you have a foot kink?” You mumble softly. Wanting to distract yourself from the tingling sensation on your heart. Jimin snorts. It’s not that you tried to get him to stop but that’s what happens. He stops his actions altogether. Holds his hand out for you. You accept it. Cluelessly allowing him to drag you forward. Not down to the floor, however. But to his lap. Straddling. Stare into his brown orbs which are now glinting with amusement when he pecks your lips.

“What if I do.” Jimin teases. Eyes sparkling. Is muttering against your lips causing to intensify that tingling sensation. Your heart is about to leap away. Explode. You balance yourself by circling your arms over his neck. Are refusing to feel this way alone. Want Jimin to join you. So, you brush your lips against his.

“Then I’d want to give you a foot job.” Whisper. Jimin’s hands around you tightens immediately. That glint in his eyes replaced by a dark haze as you watch. He shivers visibly.

“Fuck Lil.” Groans as squashing you against his chest. “Are you sure you can’t keep my cock warm for five fucking minutes.” Mumbles. You give him a look. Make him whine. “Okay, then three minutes.” You don’t change the look in your face. “Two.” You raise your brow. “One. Fuck baby. I need something.” He kisses you hard.

“Gosh you really do have a foot kink, don’t you?” You kiss him back the moment he pulls away. Jimin lets out an adorable noise.

“I think I have lot of kinks when it comes to you.” Says as you hide your face in his neck. Makes you giggle.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm… you’re so good.” Rubs your back. “Feels so good. Let’s just stay like this.” Holds you tight. Gets you shrieking when he spins his chair. Making you both do a playful swirl.

“Jimin.” You draw back just to hit his arm. How you’ve become comfortable around each other. Comfortable enough that you can mess around like this. His eyes are back to sparkling. Oh, how you love them. Those eyes and the glint. Makes you feel alive. Makes you forget how sordid your relationship is. When you’re with him, it’s just you two in the world. In these kinds of moments, he isn’t a man who has a girlfriend. He is just Park Jimin. And as weird as it sounds, he is your Park Jimin.

“Don’t nag.” Jimin interrupts you even before you start speaking. You close your mouth. Click your tongue.

“I wasn’t going to nag.” Yes, you were. Jimin laughs. Showers you with tiny kisses yet again. Opens his mouth to say something only to close back instantly and jump slightly when the intercom rings. You withdraw from him at light speed. Hell, you haven’t heard Emi returning. Not that it’s possible to hear much through the thick walls and heavy door. Yet, you always manage to know she is there beforehand. It seems you were extra busy today. Too engrossed in each other. You are about to get off from his lap when Jimin responds to his secretary.

“Yes.” He asks in that stern tone.

“Ms. Kim─” That’s all she gets to say before you hear a second voice echoes through the receiver.

“Oh, you don’t have to inform him, if he isn’t with someone.”

And that’s the only warning you get. That’s the only second you get to react before the door handle is twisting. It’s almost comical how fast you act. Nearly break your neck at the speed you get off from Jimin. Stumble a little. Catching yourself right at the time and grabbing the cup of coffee on the table when the door pushes open. Jimin drags the chair close to the table as you catch sight of the person entering the room. Freezing in the doorway.

You can feel your heart pound in your throat. You force yourself to look away from the woman who just entered the office. To act normal. To show her a polite smile and bow. In the way an employee would do to her employer’s girlfriend. Yet all you can do is push the coffee cup toward Jimin with a shaky hand. Jimin mumbles you a strained ‘thank you’. Compared to you Jimin looks fairly fine. Composed. Not at all like a man who nearly got caught by his girlfriend. Still, he looks uncomfortable. And a little flushed. All you can hope is that Liya wouldn’t pick up the obvious tension. Your efforts to turn around and leave, however, instantly becomes null when Liya speaks and closes the door behind. Rudely in the face of poor Emi.

“What are you doing here?” Liya doesn’t beat around the bush it seems. You feel your blood drains out of your body. A cold sweat starts to break down your spine. Mouth suddenly dry that you don’t think you’ll be able to talk even if you have an answer.

“She’s bringing me my coffee, Liya, you can’t see that?” Jimin’s calm voice saves you from your misery. You turn your head slightly to find him looking directly at Liya. How is he doing that? You feel like fainting. Doesn’t he feel fucked up like you? Is this normal for him? Then your gaze shifts from his face to his hands. The way he is clenching them. Then his legs. Is bouncing his left leg like crazy. Oh, he’s feeling all the messy sensations like you do. It’s just that he’s better at hiding. Liya scoffs. Takes your attention back to her.

“Why would she do that now? Thought she is Hoseok’s assistant.” Raises her brow.

“She is.” Jimin answers as if there’s nothing wrong at all.

“Then why on earth is she bringing you, coffee? You have Emi for that.” You can’t help but recoil a bit when she walks forward. How intimidating she is. Her gaze flickers from Jimin to you. “I thought we had a deal sister. Thought you are working on finding a way to stop this. Not following my boyfriend like a needy little thing. You can’t live without him?”

“Liya!” Jimin’s voice booms across the room. Even you wince slightly.

“What?” She snaps. Head whipping toward Jimin. Oh, this is awkward. Uncomfortable. You need to leave. Jimin doesn’t answer her. Instead turns to you.

“You can leave.” Says gently yet professionally. You’re glad. See now, you know you’re not in a position to feel angry. You’re very wrong here. Yet, it’s not a pleasant feeling to have someone talk down on you. Belittle you and clearly insinuate that you’re a slut. Maybe you are. But you don’t like to be reminded. You want to escape. Hence, your eager nod and bow. Take another step forward to leave when Liya stops you again.

“No wait.” She steps in front of you. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re sucking Hoseok’s cock for this job─”

“That’s enough Liya!” You can hear Jimin’s chair scrape the floor as he gets to his feet. Liya doesn’t listen to him, however.

“─ just stay out from our life, will you? Do you have any idea how this might look in people’s eyes. Do you know what Emi might think to see you spend your time─”

“For fucks sake Liya, that’s fucking enough.” Jimin walks past you so fast that you don’t even realize he has walked to Liya until he’s harshly yanking from her forearm. Turns to you. “Leave.” That’s a demand. His voice is stern. Not that you need to tell twice. You take your opportunity. Storm away gratefully. Not bothering to listen to what Jimin says to Liya next. Not even waiting to acknowledge the look Emi gives you.

………………………………………….

It takes you a fair amount of time to compose yourself after the incident. Hell, you were so damn scared. It was a close call. For a fact you know Liya has no clue that Jimin and you are really going on at it. She was a bitch to you ever since the day you met. She simply wants you out of her hair. Maybe she’s suspicious. Maybe she’s afraid of the possibilities. But that’s all. She’s just being rude without knowing the truth. And what would have happened if you’d been a split second too late to get off Jimin’s lap? Even the thought alone makes you tremble.

You don’t know what Liya will do. You have no idea how she’ll manage to take your identity away from you. And that’s not your main concern anyway. Your main concern is what problems it’ll cause to Jimin. Your concern is about the next steps Jimin will take. He clearly told you he can’t just break up with Liya. That means only one thing, you’ll be the one he would give up. And that makes your knees buckle. Makes it hard to breathe. Fuck, how you’ve gotten yourself deeply tangled in the web Jimin has woven. You know you can’t let him go. No, you can’t let this go. You need him. Even the thought of it makes you feel void. Makes your heart ache. So, you’re relieved that you managed to avoid it. Avoid getting caught. That you can keep going. Yes, you feel guilty. Of course you do. You simply know that you’re the villain in this story. The bad bitch who came to ruin a perfect relationship. Well, you’re fine being that bitch.

All you need is Jimin.

You gulp down the guilt you feel. Anxiously placing down the bundle of files Jin made you take to Hoseok. Nearly drops them when you feel your phone vibrates in your pant pocket.

“What the fuck is this?” Hoseok questions as he grabs a one to inspect. You ignore his question since you’re hastily pulling your phone out. Unlocking it in record time. Inhaling a sharp breath and holding it when you see it’s indeed Jimin who has texted you.

Meet me in the screening room. Is what the text reads. Relief flooded you. This means everything is apparently, fine. You’re safe.

“Do you have a screening room here?”

“What on the fucking hell does Jin want me to do with these?”

You and Hoseok ask each other at the same time. It’s his question that gets ignored, however.

“Yes, why?” He answers your question. Brows furrowed in curiosity.

“Can you show me it?” You yet again ignores his question in favor of getting what you need.

“I can but you have to tell me why?”

“I got an- uh- invitation to visit there…” You hide your annoyance. There’s no time to start silly fights with your boss. Hoseok’s curious face immediately morphs into a playful one. A smirk appears on his pink lips.

“You did?” Chuckles. “That’s nice but I think I saw Liya here few minutes ago.” Leans forward in his desk. Looks damn cocky. You don’t wish to answer that, so he keep going on. “You might need to watch your back Li.” Bites on his bottom lip. You roll your eyes. It’s a one thing to commit a sin. But it’s completely different thing to talk about it as it’s nothing. That’s worse.

“You’re such an asshole, Hoseok.” You say grimacing.

“So, who’s worse? You or me?” He asks nonchalantly. You have no answer for that. Hoseok waits patiently for a minute before realizing you’re not going to answer it. “C’mon let’s go, I need to find Jin as well.” Gets to his feet. You say nothing as you slowly start to follow him. He only takes one step, however, before he stops again and face you. “But seriously Li, watch your back. I don’t want Jimin to die. I want him to live long enough to realize all he has to do is put an end to it.”

“End to what?”

“To anything that makes him unhappy.”

……………………………………

“Why would you need a fucking movie theater in your company?” You ask while staring into the large LED display. Standing next to a comfortable- looking leather chair and under the dim yellowish lighting of the screening room of RUN.

“For a lot of things, actually.” Jimin answers as he wraps his arms around you. From behind. Pulling your back into his chest. You snuggle against him immediately. Let your head fall into his chest. Grinning widely when he starts to sway you from side to side.

“Like what? Couples having movie nights on Valentine Day?” You snorts.

“Valen- what?” Jimin huskily questions in your ear as you gasp loudly. Pulling away from his embrace hurriedly. Turning around to look at him with disbelief.

“Are you saying that there’s no valentine day here?” Another gasp. Jimin looks endearingly confused.

“Are we supposed to have one?” He looks around the screening room. As if you’re talking about something he should have in here. You chuckle.

“Valentine means the day of lovers. We celebrate it on fourteenth Feb.” You explain softly. It’s Jimin’s time to gasp now.

“Why would you need a day for that?” Scrunches up his nose. “You have such a day in your world?” Tilts his head toward you. You hum in response before pecking his lips.

“You’re missing out. But that doesn't matter. Tell me why we’re here.”

Jimin’s incredulous expression turns into a cunning smile. “You told me I should take you somewhere.” Places his hands on your waist. Rests his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, somewhere private so we can─”

“This place is private. No one’s ever gonna come─”

“Park Jimin.” You almost push him away when he pulls you flat against him. Apparently, don’t give a fuck about the risks. Not even after what happened earlier. “We can’t you stupid. Did Liya even leave? We almost got caught─”

Jimin shuts you up with a lewd kiss. “She did.” Answers when he finally pulls away. You sigh heavily.

“So, everything went well?”

“It did. Nothing you should worry about Spring Roll. Trust me hm?”

That’s what you do always. Trust him. You won’t lie, you’re sometime curious to know what’s happening in his life. Then you think it’s not your place. You shouldn’t get more closer to him than you’re now. So, you just nod. It looks like you would have to give up. And that’s exactly what you’re about to do when the sudden sound of door opening reaches you. Followed by voices. Jimin’s reaction is entirely unconscious. Like a reflex. One moment you were standing near the isle seats. Then in the next you are pressed into his chest, fully concealed by a curtain. Both froze in the action.

“I’m pretty sure he went to the café.” You undoubtedly recognize Hoseok’s voice. Have listened to it too many times to be uncertain. You tilt your head upward to take good look at Jimin’s face. He has his arms firmly draped around you. Isn’t looking at you. His eyes are closed. You can feel his heartbeat.

Fuck! That was another close call.

No. It wasn’t a close call. It’s not over yet. Hoseok is with someone for sure.

“No man, I’m telling you he headed this way.” That voice is Taehyung’s. It’s fine if it’s those two. You can come up with a good excuse. Not that you need excuses when it comes to Hoseok anyway. But then there comes a third voice.

“Oh my god! This is ridiculous. What am I gonna say to my father? That my boyfriend, the CEO of this company has vanished into thin air all of a sudden?”

And your blood freezes for second time. Jimin’s eyes shoot open at the voice too. Hasn’t he told you she left. Jimin shakes his head gently, as if he read your mind. You give him a look of disbelief. How absurd that you’re hiding behind a curtain like this. Your attention is drawn back to the conversation when you hear Hoseok scoffs.

“Listen Ms. Kim, I don’t think Jimin is obliged to meet your dad. He’s the fucking CEO of this company and he can go anywhere he wants.”

You have no idea how Liya might look like now. You hear her scoff as well though.

“Oh yeah, he is, Mr. Jung. In case if you guys have forgotten, let me─”

“Okay guys, Jimin isn’t here so why don’t we go and look for him elsewhere?” Taehyung is the one who interrupts Liya’s words.

“No... No, let her finish Tae. Surely, we’ve forgotten.” Malice in Hoseok’s voice is quite evident. You’ve always wondered what his problem with Liya is. Why so hostile toward her. Yet this is not the time to find out. Not when you feel like melting into a puddle at your feet. Heart beating mad. The dread of getting caught makes your eyes water and your head throb. This is not the right time to find out what causes other people’s problems. You know Jimin feels the same if the way he’s squeezing you is anything to go by.

You need to get out of here. Or Hoseok needs to take Liya out from here. The way he has started to argue with Taehyung and the way he is provoking Liya, however, makes you realize the latter won’t be happening soon. Hoseok is an idiot in addition to being a little shit. Maybe he thinks you’ve left already. Whatever the reason might be, them staying longer here bring you and Jimin to get caught in your lie sooner. Red handed. No. That can’t be happening. You don’t want to lose Jimin just as you found him. No. You need to escape.

You frantically start to look around. In a desperate search for a way you can get out of this absurd situation. Your mind running mile a minute. Taking in everything around you when your eyes land on the door couple of steps ahead of you and to your left. Fire Exit. You feel a rush of relief and new wave of apprehension shoots through your body. If you can get to the fire exit, you’re free of this situation. But the problem is that there’s no way you can reach there without uncovering yourself from this curtain. You take a moment. Trying to calm your racing heart down so you can hear the conversation happening inside the room.

“Oh, c’mon Hobba, stop it will you?” Taehyung is still whining.

“You’re an ungrateful shit Jung. You’ve no idea what my father did to make this place a reality.” Liya is still arguing. You can feel Jimin tensing. You don’t know what they are talking about but clearly Liya is insulting Hoseok. You don’t wait to listen to what Hoseok says in reply to that. Whatever he is saying, that conversation or fight isn’t going to end soon. So, you simply bring Jimin’s attention to you by tugging from his coat. Wait till he looks at you before gesturing to the door with your head. Jimin looks to the direction where you’re showing. Picking up what you’re insinuating quickly. Eyes going wide before he’s shaking his head. You don’t pay any mind to that. Take the risk of poking your head out. Jimin is too late when he hiss quietly. You are already looking at the three people near the door.

They’re at the far end of the room, with Liya’s back to you. Taehyung is to her side while Hoseok will be the only one to notice you if you reveal yourself. And you trust him to keep it shut in case he sees you. That’s what you think. Or guess. Or pray. Maybe this is a stupid idea. Maybe you should’ve stayed until they finish fighting. Hoping they will leave after that and hoping you or Jimin won’t end up sneezing. Maybe that’s the best option but you’re already stepping out. Jimin trying weakly to keep you in place but failing miserably. Having nothing else to do but follow you. It’s just probably maximum three steps. And it doesn't even take a split second to cross it.

One.

Two.

Three.

And right as you push open the door. Silently as you can and your eyes never leaving the three figures at the other end, Hoseok’s eyes land directly on you. You can’t figure how his expression changes, but you know there’s no issue. That he’ll manage to hide his surprise. The problem is the way Taehyung’s head turns toward you. Just a millisecond after Hoseok. You may not be able to see his reaction in the dim lighting, but you do clearly hear the gasp that leaves his mouth.

“Taehyung!” Hoseok screams Taehyung’s name right when you disappear through the fire exit. Dragging Jimin along with you.

……………………………….

There was no reason for you to run after closing the fire exit door behind you. Yet that’s what you did. Ran. Ran like you were caught in a zombie attack. Ran like you were escaping an approaching hurricane. Ran like your life depends on it. You kept running, relentless and breathless. Down through hundreds of steps. And Jimin just followed you. Never letting go of your hand or pulling you into a stop. Not even when you exited the RUN building.

And not even now when you keep running without a care.

You don’t even know why you’re still at it. You feel like someone’s on your tail though. There’s an urge to run away far as possible. Far and far away. That’s the only thing that rings in your head when you see the bus that stops at the bus stop before you.

“Lil, wait…. Baby─” That’s the only thing Jimin is able to say when you board the bus. He doesn’t stop you though. Just swiftly follows you inside before the door shuts. It’s only when you reach the rear seats that you stop. It’s only when you plop down on an empty seat that you take a good look at Jimin. His face flushed and panting. No difference for you. You both are heaving for your life. Jimin plops next to you. Clutches his tummy. Looks at you weakly. And that’s only when you realize that you have ran into a fucking bus.

“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly as you take a look around. The bus is already on the move. There’s no reason for you to do this. You fucking overreacted. Why did you even board a bus? You turn back to Jimin. His eyes are already on you. You hope to find him still heaving for breath. To find him giving you a look of disbelief at what you did. What you find, however, is his lips slowly stretching into a grin, which breaks out into a loud laughter in a blink of an eye. It takes you in great surprise. You watch him with wide eyes as he doubles over with laughter. Eyes tiny slits.

“Holy fuck! Did you- did you just… God I can’t.” He struggles to say it aloud. You feel like you need to be mad that he’s making fun of you. Yet all you do is slowly start to grin.

“Oh, shut up!” You mutter in feigned irritation.

“Why the hell did you run like that?” Jimin finally manages to ask the question he wants. “Why did I fucking run like that?” Asks from himself. You find yourself starting to chuckle now.

“I don’t know all right? I kinda felt like I’m running away from my PT teacher. He was damn good runner.” You try to keep fake your irritation but are failing miserably. Jimin’s laughter freshens at that. Is back to hollering. Almost slides down on the seat when you finally give up and join him. Throwing your head back. Laughing aloud till the tears gather at the corner of your eyes. You and Jimin both ignore the annoyed looks other passengers throw your way. You just laugh. Laugh like you’ve never laughed. Like you’ll never get to laugh again.

By the time you stop cackling, you’re once again heaving for breath. You follow Jimin’s actions and get rid of your thin cardigan. It’s still the beginning of spring but all the running and laughing has got you both sweating like pigs. You slide open the small sliding panel on the window before scooting to the corner. Jimin graciously follows you. Finally calming down. You take a deep breath before speaking again.

“Are we gonna get off from the next stop?”

Jimin lazily turns his head toward you. “Do you want to?” There’s that glint in his eyes. Face still flushed. You gape at him for a moment.

“What do you mean? Don’t you have work to do? Aren’t you supposed to meet uh- Liya’s father?”

Jimin clicks his tongue. Turns fully toward you. “All the more reasons to run away baby. I hate that man.” Chuckles. “So? Want to keep going?”

“Where are we headed anyways?” You answer him with another question.

“Who cares?” Jimin just shrugs. Doesn’t even try to find out. “Lil?” Mumbles softly. And you find yourself grinning yet again.

“This is really stupid but yeah whatever.” You shrug too. Let yourself relax and lean against the backrest comfortably. Jimin does the same. A contented smile on his lips. You allow a moment of peaceful silence before voicing out your thoughts. “Taehyung knows now. So, it’s two of your friends. Hoseok and Tae. Do you think he will─”

“No, he won’t. He’s doing far worst shits that I am Lil.” Jimin doesn’t look at you as he answers.

“But he’s not going to stay like Hoseok now, will he? He will confront you.” You add.

“And I’ll talk to him.” This time he looks at you. “Don’t worry, he’s my best friend.”

“Yeah? And we all are bunch of bad people. The worst.” You lower your gaze to your lap. Feeling ashamed.

“Lil.” Jimin calls you softly as he takes your hand in his. You shift your gaze to him from your lap. “Don’t.” He brings your hand to his lips. “Don’t do that hm? Let’s just… do what we’re best at.”

“What? Pretending that this is normal?” You chuckle softly.

“Yes.” Jimin smiles at you. “It’s not that we get lots of moments like this. So, just let’s enjoy. Enjoy us.” Keeps your hand pressed against his mouth. You take a moment. Heave a sigh. Then nod.

“Let’s enjoy us.” Repeat. Jimin’s smile widens at that. Nods happily. Relax again. Start to change the subject of your conversation ever so swiftly. And so does it flow smoothly. You talk about everything that comes to your mind. Jimin is particularly interested in Valentines Day. Is so curious like a cat. You find it adorable. You fill him with everything you can. Have no idea how long you’ve travelled. But you’re starting to feel a little groggy. Having yawned till your sight become blurry already. Yet it’s Jimin who dozed off first. Head drooping low suddenly. Makes your drowsiness disappear entirely as you turn to look at him in alert. Just to find him struggling to keep his eyes open and head straight.

Adorable. Oh, so fucking adorable. You can feel that tingling effect again. Your heart swooning and swelling inside your chest. Swelling because it’s slowly getting filled with an emotion you quite can’t decipher. You don’t know how to explain this. All you know is that you’re not supposed to feel this way. You already knew you’re the secret. The other woman. You’re supposed to be the one who Jimin comes to have his desires satiated. Which means this should be entirely about physical needs. This need to be about fucking each other’s mind every minute you got. Jimin should not be asking you to enjoy him and you. Shouldn’t hold your hand still. You should not be in this position feeling oh so fucked up to see him nodding off.

But you can’t help yourself. You’re already here anyway. So, you gently tug from his hand which he’s still tangled with yours. “Jimin.” Calls him softly. Despite how gently and slow you do it, Jimin jerks awake. Hums in question. You feel bad. “Uh.. you can, you know?” You mutter as you tap your shoulder with your free hand. Feel a bit shy. Jimin chuckles softly.

“Yeah?” Purrs. It’s your time to hum in answer. “Kay.” He purrs again. Shifts slightly, scooting just enough to account for his height. And is placing his head snuggle against your shoulder. His blond hair tickles your cheek and ear. Oh, how relaxed you feel. How cozy and serene to have Jimin with you this way. You shouldn’t but you do. You shouldn’t but you sigh heavily before placing your cheek on top of his head. Wait patiently till your own eyes start to close slowly again. Not caring when you’re going to get off this bus. What will be your destination.

It certainly is good to be reckless and spontaneous sometimes. Even though you’re slowly creating more and more reasons to love this life. See now, you won’t say that you’ve never had a good life in your world. You did. But even as a college student, this is the most reckless you’ve ever been. You have a friend who cares dearly about you. And a family. But it surely is fun to bake kook’s bliss in the late nights. It’s fun to be mad at Hoseok. Fun to be scandalized at Taehyungs nasty comments. Even Jin’s nagging can be a cause to laugh sometimes. You never thought you’d be this happy to work an extra hour at a restaurant after a long day. But you do. In the same way you like to listen J and Jungkook argue over their assignments. Above everything, it’s so good to be next to Park Jimin. Even just for sleeping on a bus.

You like so many things here. You’re living a life. And so, you will live it to the fullest. Like now. You let out another breath in content before snuggling your cheek in Jimin’s hair. Letting the world turn into peaceful darkness.

……………………………

Neither of you woke up until the bus had reached its final destination and the driver poked Jimin’s head. Asking not so politely to leave. You had disembarked while bowing to the driver in apology like two zombies. Groggy and disoriented. And it took both of you couple minutes to comprehend what was happening. When you did, however, one long look around you gave you or rather Jimin the perfect idea where you were.

Namiseom Island.

You’re in Namiseom Island. Some things stays the same as your world. Apart from the fact that instead of Chuncheon, the bus has taken you directly to Namiseom Island. The soft scent of the cherry blossoms is what filled your senses the moment you exited the bus stop. You knew it was beautiful. No difference here. The soft shades of delicate pink and white left you breathless. The fresh air filled your lungs. It was almost dreamy. Like you’ve travelled to a yet another dimension. See even the reckless decisions sometimes can bring the most wondrous results.

You’re more than happy that you’ve ended up here. It feels otherworldly to walk under the gingko and cherry trees with a bewitching man next to you. Carpet of a soft pink crunching under your shoes and newly falling petals decorating your hair. Jimin looks even more enchanting like that. He is captivating. Entrancing. You simply forget to breathe when you see how the wind ruffles his hair. You find it hard to look away when he smiles gently. You find you really can’t fight the urge to kiss him when he turns his head toward you until he ruins the moment.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” Jimin gasps. Eyes glinting in amusement. “Wait, oh no… are you obsessed with me? Have I done it again?” Shakes his head in disbelief. Is cocky. Smug.

Yes, you are.

No need to let him know that, though. You scrunch up your face as you look away. “You’ll wish. But no, I’d never be obsessed with a man who is not Henry Cavill.”

“Henry who? And what?” Jimin scoffs. “Your eyes talk princess. You’re obsessed with me.”

“How delusional you are.” You scoff too. “But I would admit that I just wanted to kiss you. That doesn’t mean I’m obsessed, however. Just a kiss because─” Jimin interrupts you by yanking you to a stop by grabbing your arm. Turns you to him.

“Do it then.” Mumbles. You got him. You’re certain that your eyes are glinting in mischief. You simply shrug and shake your head.

“The moment passed.” Try to walk away when Jimin tightens his grip.

“No... No, what? C’mon, you wanted to kiss me.”

“Not anymore. Now I’m hungry. Is that an Ice cream cart?” You point to your right where you undoubtedly noted an Ice cream cart.

“What? I don’t know. Just kiss me baby.”

You almost give up at his husky voice that suddenly turns down an octave low. Making goosebumps appear on your skin. Still, you manage to keep it cool, though. Find yourself walking toward the Ice cream cart. With a great struggle since you have to drag a whining Jimin with you. Smiling to yourself at how adorable he’s being. It’s only when you’re in front of the said cart and you’re bowing to the old lady there that Jimin stops being a child. Suddenly mans up. Bows to the nice lady as well. She does the same while smiling at you from one ear to the other.

“Well, hello there, darlings! Isn’t it a lovely sight to see young people taking the time to be out in nature. Ah, yeah, it is.” She looks at you fondly. You bow to her again. “Now, what’s it you’re craving for today?” Gestures to the compartment where there is only five flavors available. You turn to Jimin in question.

“Hm? What do you like?” He asks you softly, inspecting the available flavors thoroughly. And here you’re feeling that same flutter. This is oddly intimate in non-sexual way. It’s sweet. So sweet. Like a normal couple. Like how a boyfriend would buy ice cream for his girl.

No. No, you shouldn’t think that way.

“Lil?” Jimin asks again. You snap out of your haze. Instantly start to drag your gaze through the flavors.

“Um… mint chocolate maybe. How about you?” You hum in thought. There’s not many options available anyway.

“Mmm..” Jimin tilts his head to the sight. Takes a second. “Cherry blossom. You sure you need mint choc?” Questions to which you nod in confirmation. “Okay then. One mint choc and one Cherry blossom please.” Jimin turns to the old lady again. Bows to her again. Mumbles a ‘thank you’.

“Right away.” The vendor woman says chirpily. Her smile never ceasing as she starts to grab two small cups. You and Jimin wait patiently as she scoops your ice cream into the cup first. She offers it to you with a small wooden spoon before going for Jimin’s order. Jimin takes them from her. Only to hand you them while he fishes for his wallet.

“How much do we owe you halmeoni?” He asks sweetly. Already starting to fish inside his wallet. You feel skeptical about the fact that he is having small bills in there. It’s not like you can pay with his damn golden card. But then, making you both surprised, the old lady waves her hand in the air.

“Ah, don’t you fret now. This one’s on me—a little treat for a young pair off on their grand escape.” She smiles in a way that it is sweet but also hides a hint of playfulness. Your eyes go wide instantly.

“Oh, no we- uh...” Jimin’s the one who speaks first. He doesn’t finish his sentence, but you know what he’s about to say. You feel your heart clench. Even though you know there’s no reason for that. And so do you hate that. Hate how it stings.

“Not a couple.” So, you finish Jimin’s words. It’s not that you feel mad at him. He’s telling the truth. Yet, you feel a bit disappointed. You avoid looking at Jimin and keep your eyes on the old lady. Her face falls.

“Ah.” Clicks her tongue. “What a shame?” Shakes her head. “Yes, it is.” You feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. Know Jimin feels the same when he clears his throat.

“If you can tell me the total Halmeoni…” Jimin tries but his words trail off when she waves her hand again.

“It’s still on me darlings.” Shows you that kind smile once again. “Why, aren’t you two a couple, however? You look grand together. Lovely, you are.” Questions in genuine interest. Oh, you’re uncomfortable. What can you say to her. Because this man has a girlfriend.

“I- we... it’s kind of complicated.” You’re the who manage to answer this time. Lady just nods. Almost like in understanding. Then as you think it’s over and you can vanish from here, she opens her mouth again.

“Complicated matters can always be simplified, my dears.” She gives a knowing smile. “If you’ll humor an old lady, let me tell you—life’s far too short to waste just because you’re tangled up in complicated feelings. Don’t squander this precious time. Blink, and it’s gone.” She straightens up with a great effort. Her movements deliberate. “It’ll all slip away before you realize you’ve been missing it.” Clicks her tongue. “So don’t waste your time. Treasure every single moment you’ve got with each other.” Heaves a sigh. Wistful. Then follows a sweet smile. “Off you go now. Don’t let this turn into regret.” Waves her hand in motion for you to go away.

You would call it rude in a different context but now you quite feel dumbstruck. Her words somehow manage to cut you through to your heart. You feel them in a strange way. You guess it’s same for Jimin as he is stupidly nodding to the old lady. It’s like she has cast a spell on you. Both of you manage to slightly bow to her for one last time before slowly turning around your heels. Walking toward a bench under a cherry blossom tree. Sitting down and starting to taste your ice cream. A deafening silence fills the air between you two until you break it. Not being able to bear it anymore. Feel somber all of a sudden.

“Why would she think we are on the run anyway?” Pout.

A soft chuckle escapes Jimin.

“Because we look like we ran a marathon.” He gestures between you two. And sure, you do look like that. Still with flushed faces. Your cardigan tied around your waist. Jimin’s coat in his hand. Tie loosened and top buttons on his shirt undone. You do look like you’ve ran a marathon. You take a minute to drink in your appearances. Then you snort loudly. Breaking into a laugh to which Jimin joins shortly. You nod in agreement to his words. Savoring another spoon of your ice cream. Jimin does the same. Rolls the creamy stuff in his tongue before turning to you again. “Want to treasure every moment with me?” Raises his brow. You just blink at his face. Here comes those tingles again. Here you start to feel like exploding with your emotions. You avert your eyes away. Forcing yourself to act normal. Make a joke out of it.

“Such a cheeky thing to say.” Manage through a mouthful of ice cream. Jimin laughs.

“C’mon milady, let’s not turn this into regret huh?” His hands find purchase in your sides. A squeal leaves you when he starts to tickle you.

“Park.”

“Say yes.” He puts down his ice cream on the bench so he can use his both arms to attack you. Making you curl up. Trying to find your words in between the loud laughter that escapes you. Kicking your legs in the air. Trying to escape him vain till tears blur your sight.

“O-okay, okay fuck yes.” You pant.

“Thank you, milady. The pleasure and privilege of your company is entirely mine.” Jimin’s hands leave you immediately. You roll your eyes back to your head when he plants a soft kiss to your temple. “Let’s go.”

………………………….

Not wasting your time and treasuring your moments together apparently meant cycling around the island. In your heels. And Jimin’s expensive suit pants. You’re pretty sure he ruined them. And then visiting local galleries. Listening to Jimin’s wildly inaccurate but creative interpretations of the artworks. It was an endless laugh, however. Then your mission- treasuring moments- trailed into another stroll through the scenic lanes.

And by the time your conversation has turned into Jimin flat out criticizing Romeo for being an idiot, you find it's impossible to stay on your feet anymore. Your legs are killing you. Heels aren’t meant to be worn for day trips. You cut off Jimin mid-sentence by immediately darting toward a bench when you spot one. Feeling relief washes over you just at the sight of it.

“Why the fuck would he kill─, wait where─” He doesn’t get to finish his question since you’re already sitting on the bench and looking at him with a relieved expression. A small scowl that appeared on his face out of worry replaced with a soft smile briskly. He starts to walk toward the bench as you cross one leg over the other to massage it.

“Fucking hell, my ankles are in fire.” You whine in complain. Raise your head a bit to find him standing before you. You pout at him. Waiting till he sits down next to you. But he doesn’t. Instead of sitting down on the bench, he crouches down before your feet. One knee on the floor. You softly gasp. Surprised. His name leaving your mouth.

“Is it bad?” Jimin ignores your surprise. Simply takes your leg in his hand. Gently remove your heel. Does the same to the other. Goes back to rub your ankle just like he did this morning. And just like how it was for you, you feel that mixture of emotions. Feel warm inside. Feel cherished. As if you’re the most important person in this world. To make it worse, a single touch of Jimin would always make your breath hitch. You close your eyes for a second. Savoring the sensation. Open them again.

“Mhm, it is bad. But you don’t have to do that Park.” You try to take your foot back. Of course, Jimin doesn’t let you.

“Why not? I like this.” Jimin looks at you through his fluttering lashes. Smirks. And that tiny smirk reminds you of the conversation that got interrupted this morning. And so does cause for a shiver to run down your spine.

“Jesus, you little freak.” You bite down on your bottom lip to contain the grin that’s spreading across your face. To hide the tremble in your voice.

“What?” Jimin feign innocence. Squeezes your ankle one last time before he puts your leg carefully down. Then takes the other one in his hand. “You promised me a foot job baby.” Teases. This time you fail to hide the tremble. The playful nature entirely disappearing. Your eyes lock into his. He’s not playing. Oh, he is not. There’s no sign of amused glint in those brown orbs. A glint of a dark haze is there if anything.

“Fuck are you serious about that?” You ask in your shaky voice.

“Maybe.” Jimin holds your foot tight. “Is it bad if I’m serious?” Questions.

“No, course not. I’m just asking.”

“So, is that a, yes? You gonna let me cum hard on your pretty feet?” Rasps while his hand starts to rub your heels instead of ankles. Your hands instinctively finds purchase in his shirt sleeve. Bunching up the fabric in your fists and holding tight. You feel that shivers turn into waves of arousals. Your cunt quavering and hole clenching. Gets your knees buckle just with his words. And how do you want to give in right there. Can’t though. You’re in public. True, you’ve done things in the open, but you don’t dare to try it again. Only you, however. You’re the only who don’t dare. Jimin does. Slowly raises your foot a bit. Never gives you so much as a clue before he is pressing that foot into his crotch. Letting you feel that he’s already getting hard. His pants starting to tighten. You mewl softly.

“Jimin….”

“See, already hard baby. Just thinking about it. Fuck, want you to do that to me so bad.” Uses your foot to create the friction he needs for that little relief.

“Holy fuck Jimin. God.”

“Fuck Lil.” He presses your foot harder against him. Partially you’re tempted to say yes to do whatever he wants right out in the open. Yet even before you can finish thinking that thought Jimin gets to his feet abruptly. Only a surprised gasp leaves you before his hand is on your throat. Pressing as his lips attacked yours in a hungry kiss. It’s like damn switch flipped off. One moment he was kneeling in front of you. With begging eyes but now he’s choking you while kissing you like an unleashed animal. Out in the public. Oh, the duality of this man. Not that you’re complaining. No. Even the logical thoughts are starting leave you. You kiss him back severely. Allow his tongue to push past your lips roughly. Explore every nook and corner inside your mouth. You do the same. It’s a mess of saliva wetting your lips when he pulls back slightly just to sit back next you. And you’re at it again. Without a care in the world.

“Fuck princess…” Jimin whispers against your lips. In the moment where you pull away from him because you can’t go anymore without any oxygen. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing to me?” Pecks your lips. “Fuck, do you have any idea how fast you get me hard.” Another peck. “I’m always fucking horny around you.” Pecks. “Hell baby, I can’t get enough.” Kisses you hard.

You want to say that it’s same for you as well. Want to tell him that you’re always dripping around him. But he doesn’t let you. Occupy your mouth and swallow all your muffled noises. You want to show him though. So, you use your hands. It’s feral when you reach for his already hardened cock. Straight away start to rub and squeeze over his pants. It’s ethereal how Jimin moans into your kiss. His breath coming short and ragged when he withdraws. His plump lips parting and eyes closing shut. Drowning in the feeling of your hand on his cock. Only for a minute, however. Is back at kissing you in a second but this time his own hand cupping your heat. His palm pressing flat against your throbbing cunt. You spread your legs for him. The place you’re in slipped your mind a long ago.

You have no idea how long you’ve been at it. Giving each other teasing touches. But in the end, you’re both desperate like two animals in heat. Yet like always you’re the one to beg first.

“Ji-Jimin... oh shit, shit I… let’s get out of here?” You stammer as Jimin keeps rubbing your cunt over your clothes. You’re pretty sure you’ll start to leak through your work pants.

“Ye-yeah? You want that?” It’s annoying how Jimin still finds it in him to tease you when he looks like he’s about cum in his pants. Is hiding his face on your neck. Even with the unbearable pleasure between your thighs, you manage to keep pleasuring him as well. He is rock hard under those fabrics. And you want to end the torture.

“Fuck baby yes. Please. Let’s go… fuck me properly.” You plead groggily. “Play with me hm? Fuck I want you to play Jimin please.” You shut your eyes. Feeling like you’re about to cum at the thought of it. Keeping him warm inside you. Begging for him to give it you. It’s torture yes, but what a sweet torture it is. You want it so bad, yet you know that Jimin isn’t going to relent that fast. Not that easy. It would take much more begging. Hence, your surprise when his hand disappear from your heat instantly. You’re looking at him with confused eyes when he stands up. He bends down to cup your cheeks. Squeezes. His eyes are dark as midnight and burn with primal intensity. Looks crazy. There’s a tiny smirk playing at the corner or his mouth, nonetheless.

“Fuck you’ve learnt how to play Lil. You’re fucking cunning.” Gives your face a shake. “You want me to play? Are you sure?” You nod eagerly. Too eagerly perhaps. His smirk widens. “Yeah? Is that it?” Comes even closer to you. “You gonna regret that baby. Gonna play until you cry. C’mon move.” Takes his hand away.

You gulp harshly.

…………………………………

You’re a crying mess. Your cheeks are soaked in tears, your body glistening with sweat, and your thighs slick with arousal. Just a mess. But a hot and needy mess. Desperate. Crying entirely due to the pleasure and for your release. You have expected this completely. When Jimin warned you’d regret asking him to play, apparently, he had meant it from his bones. You’re regretting it greatly. And oh, so loving it at the same time. The moment you found yourself inside this hotel room, he had made it his life’s mission to make you suffer. It started from stop kissing you just after he got you stark naked in front of him. And a simple command.

‘On your knees, ass up baby.’

You complied. Like a good needy, horny slut would. Confused and without a clue what’s his intentions were. That’s when he had made you shuffle in your position until he got you facing the direction he wants. Funny how in your lust-addled haze, you hadn’t noticed the floor to ceiling mirror, perfectly placed in a spot where you can watch yourself get fucked from behind. You have your own suspicions that this is the real purpose of that mirror after all. No have you noticed the sparks in Jimin’s eyes when he had noticed it undoubtedly before you.

See now, this is a clear sign that universe is conspiring against you, with Jimin. How the mirror looks like a perfectly planned step of Jimin’s ‘making you regret it’ scheme. It had given Jimin’s creative mind a good opportunity to put those ideas into display. You are being the test subject. A grateful one. Grateful but losing your control. You can’t do it anymore. A girl can only handle certain amounts of edging after all. The thing is you don’t know how many times he had edged you until now.

Ever since his command, you’ve been in this position. Your hands are already giving up. So are your legs. Shaky. Jimin is pounding on to you from behind. He looks godly. Flushed and clenching his jaw so tight, it looks like he might break it. His rock-hard dick throbbing and twitching inside you. Yet, he keeps thrusting into you with same vigor. Dick head hitting your sweet spot repeatedly and bringing you close to your great relief. Only for him to rob it away.

“Ji-min… please... no more... I-I can’t...” You plead in for what time you don’t know. Sobbing. You watch how his eyes are glued to where you and he connect, through the mirror. Transfixed. Panting as his hips relentlessly snaps against your ass. He averts his gaze from your cunt to the mirror at your begging. Looking at your face instead. His gone-mad eyes locking with yours.

“You can’t?” Taunts. You whine pathetically. “What can’t you do?” Asks again. Picks up his speed that causes you to only moan in answer. And that earns a harsh spank on your ass cheek. Nearly making you plunge forward. He has landed few spanks here and there, but this is the hardest one. You mewl in pain but clench around him madly in new desire at the same time. Jimin holds you tight in your place by your hips. “Don’t fucking run slut. I asked you a damn question. What do you can’t?” Repeats.

“W-want t-to cum Jimin… fuck, I can’t anymore. I need to c-cum. Please baby, let me...” You find your strained voice. Jimin only groans in response to that. Concentrating on fucking you properly. “Jimin…” So, you try again.

“Then do as I say Lil.” Commands. Bends down forward. Slow down his thrusts. Leaning toward your ear so that his chest is pressed against your back. Watches you in the mirror. You shiver when he growls in your ear. “Be a good slut. You can cum if you keep your eyes open. Watch baby, want you to watch how beautiful you are when you getting fucked like a slut. Want you to see how beautiful you look when you fucking cum on my cock. You’re such beautiful whore for me.” With that he straightens up again. Picks up his pace again. So perfect. So good. You’re slobbering. Strangled noises leaving your throat as you bunch up the bedsheet on your fists. He has opted on an animalistic pace again. You moan loudly at the sensation. Arching your back even more and closing your eyes shut. And like that it all stops. In a millisecond. All gone. Jimin stills inside you. His movements entirely halted. The heavenly pleasure between your thighs dissipate into thin air. Your eyes shoot open.

“No… no Jimin please… fuck no…” You cry out in despair. Fresh tears are starting to roll down your cheeks. This is how it has been all these times. This is his game. The way he plays. His instructions are easy. Keep your eyes open. Keep watching. Keep watching while you fall over the edge. As if it is easy like that. You don’t know why or how, but you always end up shutting your eyes up. It’s unconscious. The immense pleasure cause you to close your eyes. And Jimin very cruelly has denied your release every time you did so.

“Keep.” Jimin gives you a harsh thrust. His fingers digging into your hips. Holding you steady. “Your.” Another thrust. “Eyes.” He delivers another spank with his thrust. “Open slut. Keep them open.” And he starts to fuck into you again. Harsh and hard that your hands fail you. You fall flat on your face. Raising your head feebly to stare at your pathetic figure getting pound by a breathtaking man. You can’t anymore. You can’t take this. You need to control your body. Need to have your senses back so you can comply to Jimin’s commands. So, you can reach your peak. You try your best. Do your best. Only to fail again. Right at the moment it becomes unbearable, and that knot almost explode, you close your eyes again. The pleasure disappears again. You choke on your own sobs. How many times? God how long he has done this? You’ve lost count already.

“Fucking hell, Jimin…. God… no… baby please let me…” You cry harder. New slicky juices seep out of your cunt each time you violently clench around him. Drenching your thighs and Jimin’s pelvic even more. Jimin moans loudly at the sensation as well. Or maybe it’s your cry. Whatever the reason, Jimin is the most controlled and rude prick ever. How does he even do this? You can see him shaking too. Can feel his cock throb too. Still, he’s been mean to you. And you know that he knows how you like it. In addition to your clenches, you’re weakly moving your hips back. Subtly fucking yourself on his cock. He stops that with a spank. Watches you through the mirror when you nod. Letting him know he can continue. So, he does. This time he snakes his hand around your throat. And straightens you up. Into his chest.

“Why can’t you listen baby?” Coos. Starts his thrusting again. Slow first. “You’re that horny? Your brain can’t process things? Is it empty? Did I fuck your thoughts away? Are you thinking with your cunt now? Hm my pretty slut?” Turns your head toward the mirror with a harsh grip on your jaw. “Watch Lil. Look how good you take me. Look how fucking gorgeous you are. Keep watching, okay. I promise you, you won’t cum today if you don’t.” Falls back to that harsh pace. You force yourself to comply this time. You will yourself to keep your eyes open. Humiliation turning your face into a deep scarlet. Jimin watches you intently too. “Yeah, like that. And take this cock like the slut you are princess. Shit, like that.” Grunts. You nod. Feeling how each drag of his cock against your walls make your legs buckle. Seeing how he is disappearing inside your needy hole through the mirror. What a sight you are together with Park Jimin. Keeping his face pressed against yours. One hand still having a tight grip on your jaw and making you watch yourself. Then the other falling between your thighs.

Jimin doesn’t play fair. You know that. It’s very unfair that he starts playing with your sensitive nub. His purpose is to make you disobey again. That evil smirk is the proof of it. Yet you manage to keep your eyes open this time. Gets Jimin chuckling in between his harsh thrusts and flicks in your clit.

“See, not bad whore. You can listen after all. Such a good dirty slut. Go on, baby you can. Keep your eyes open.” Fucks you harder. “Like that. Yeah. Mphm, squeeze me tight.” His hand picks up the speed. And it happens so fast. You don’t even feel the tell-tales before that knot snaps. No do you know whether you managed to keep your eyes open or not. You’re not sure if you have seen you falling apart or not. It’s a mushy haze. The pleasure coursing through your body. All you know is the way you shake and fall back on to Jimin’s body entirely.

When you come back to your clear senses again, Jimin is pulling out of you. Making you lay down on your back. Hovers over you with his eyes filled with unexplainable emotions. You would just call it worry.

“You, okay?” He purrs.

“Please more.” You spread your legs wide.

“Fucking hell Lil.” He curses aloud.

…………………………………………….

Jimin is losing his mind. It’s short circuiting. He feels like he can’t breathe. Has he ever seen a sight more beautiful than this in his life? Anything more breathtaking than you beneath him. Squirming and writhing. He had made you cum twice more in this position after you came hard while watching yourself from the mirror. Yet still, no matter how spent and weak you appear, you meet his thrust halfway. Buck your hips upward. You’re amazing, aren’t you? Amazing in how willing and pliant you are for him. How you’re allowing him to push your boundaries. Like this. Why would you do that? Why would you trust him this much?

See now, he’s partially worried that he’s hurting you. Forcing you take it when you can’t handle it anymore. But you’re mumbling incoherent ‘mores’ and ‘pleases’ over and over again. How far you are willing to go with him. And he doesn’t mean just in sex vise. You trust him every way. When he thinks about it, you have been ever since the day he broke a man’s nose for you during that storm. And that makes his heart swell. Swoon. Fills him with emotions that leaves him confused and helpless. He doesn’t know how to get them off. Feels like he might explode if he doesn’t. So, he fucks you harder and harder. Peering into your teary eyes. They glint. How beautiful.

“Jiminie… baby… oh, you feel so good.” Your voice is like his favorite music. “Jimin.” Especially when you use that voice to moan his name. You look ethereal beneath him. Fuck he needs more. He needs more from you. But how? You’re giving everything to him. Sprawled out here for him. Keeping his cock inside your tight hot cunt like this. Clenching. Jimin feels like he’s in heaven. Yet he wants more. He thrust harder into your warmth. Basking in the sensation of your velvet walls around his throbbing dick. Hides his face in your neck to smell you in. Adds some more purple marks to your skin, his canvas. Your chest and neck is marked deeply with his love bites. You’re so willing to let him do that. If anything, he knows that makes you even more turned on. See, Jimin find it’s impossible to restrain himself when you’re like this. You’re giving him everything. He’s going to explode. He needs to have more.

“Yeah princess? How good? Tell me how good I feel inside your cute hole.” Jimin mumbles against your lips. Keeping his dick dragging along your walls. Pining your hands above your head so you won’t try touching your clit. It’s his work. To make you cum. So, he makes sure to grind his pelvic to your throbbing clit with each of his thrust. You fail to perform words once again. Just moan. Moan loud. Fuck, he can’t. It’s a damn battle not to go even harder. He can’t. You’re already spent. It’ll break you. It’ll hurt you. He doesn’t want that. What gets him going is to see your pleasure. Weird. Oddly strange. Never in his life has he felt this fucked up to see someone else getting pleasured like this. But when it comes to you, it’s the source of his pleasure. To see you get lost. In the pleasure he creates and in him. To think he’s the reason behind your fucked up expression. Your eyes rolling back and the reason you’ve turned into a brainless mush. Fuck, he’s going to die.

“You’re doing so damn fine baby. Jesus Lil…. Taking me so well… Keep going hm? I’m so close...” And so, he is. So close. It’s that he’s simply greedy to let go. Doesn’t want this to end. Doesn’t want to lose the warmth of your cunt. Warmth of your body against him. Want to prolong this long as he can. Now though, it’s becoming impossible. Jimin knows he can’t hold back much longer. Your hole clenching around him, desperate to milk him. Your sweet moans. The way your back keep arching and pressing your perfect tits against his chest. All are bringing him to his edge. But still, he needs something more. The purple and reddish marks on your chest and neck isn’t enough. He wants more. More to make you his. It’s a pure primal desire that burns inside him. He feels lightheaded. He’s so close and he can’t pull out. Doesn't want to. Wants to fill you up. Needs to shoot his cum deep inside your cunt. Even the thought makes him moan your name. Makes his cock twitch.

He isn’t going to last long, and he needs to cum inside you. He works in an automated mode when he takes one of his hands to grab your face. Just to bring your attention to him. You look up at him in your tear-filled dark gaze. Jimin doesn’t think you can hear him properly. Still, he needs to ask. “Lil.” He calls to you softly. You just hum. “Baby.” He tries again.

“Jiminie.” You respond weakly.

“Hell, princess… don’t look so fucking…... fuck…” He tries to compose himself. He has to ask. “Lil so close… Baby…” Moans. You nod in acknowledgement. As if you know what he want. But you don’t. You have no idea. Well, to hell with it. “Need to cum inside you.” Blurts out. And like that you’re suddenly wide eyed. It’s like he has slapped you into your senses. Are looking at him with your perfect glittery eyes. Stunned. See, if he’s not inside you already, he would certainly think that he has crossed a line. That you don’t like the idea at all. Good thing since he’s inside you. Because he can feel how tight you get around him. Clenching like a bitch in heat.

Fuck, you need that too.

Jimin nearly comes at the realization. But he needs to hear you. “Lil, fuck… can I?” Feels desperate. “Please fuck… need to fill you up. Full. Can I fuck you full of my cum baby. Please.” Knows there’s no reason to beg but can’t help it either. “Let me hear you say yes. Will keep you full all the time.” And that’s all it take.

“Yes, please yes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jimin… yes please inside. Please... inside me. Cum baby please.” You scream through your lungs as your back leaves the mattress. Another powerful orgasm washing through you. Jimin doesn’t know whether it’s your beg or the way you squeezes him but in a second he’s following you into that ecstasy. He feels like a feral animal when he press his hips harder against you. Making sure you receive every drop of his cum inside you. How primal. How you’re awakening a monster inside him. And then how good and satisfactory it feels. He thrusts sloppily into you few more times before giving up completely. He’s exhausted too. Falling down into your spent body while minding not to crush you. Hiding his face in your neck. Waiting until his racing heart calms down.

“You’re so good to me princess. You did so good. Fuck that was amazing.” Praises you just for the sake of it. You just hum. He waits, waits and waits. Till he can’t wait anymore. It doesn’t matter how greedy he feels he need to slip out of you. And even though he feels like falling asleep right away, he needs to clean you up. His princess deserves all the pampering in the world after all. After sex or not. You deserve it.

He has no idea when he finally manage to get up from the bed. Quickly letting an alerted and whining you know that he’s just going to grab a towel. By the time he’s back, you look like you’ve already fallen into that deep slumber. Your breathing even. Makes him wonder why you haven’t disappeared yet. It’s good though. He’s glad. Jimin watches you for a minute.

Oh, here comes that squeeze in his heart. Bittersweet. You look peaceful. Angelic. He doesn’t want to wake you up at all. It would be a crime to make you wake up and get dressed. You can spend your night here. Jimin wants to spend this night with you. A luxury he can’t afford to have every day. This moment is precious and he’s going to treasure it. Not because some old woman told him to do so. But because it really is invaluable.

So, he tries his best not to wake you as he parts your leg. Fails. You open your eyes wearily.

“It’s okay baby.” He soothes you. Hoping you would go back to sleep. You close your eyes, though he doesn’t know whether you have fallen asleep. Turns out you haven’t when he discarded the towel and hover over you after he finishes cleaning you up. Your eyes open once again when he peer at your face.

“Hey.” You mumble groggily.

“Hey.” He answers you. Can’t hide the adoration in his voice. You giggle prettily. Oh, he’s so fucked up. He kisses you deep just because he can’t resist. Maybe he doesn’t have the privilege of waking up and going to sleep with you. But he always can kiss you deep. Like this. You sigh in content after he pulls away. Give him those eyes. Beautiful. Enchanting. That starry night. Jimin is so down for them.

“Are we staying here?” You ask sleepily.

“If you want to, we can, yes.”

And you’re nodding eagerly. Jimin is once again about to explode from these overwhelming emotions. He doesn’t know what to do with them. Pulling you into his chest and keep you tight against him appears to be a good idea. So, he does just that. Still naked. Your warmth keeping him warm before he pull the blankets over your bodies. Cuddles you tighter.

“Then sleep baby.” Kisses your forehead. He shouldn’t. It feels oddly intimate in non-sexual way. He does it anyway. Does it again. And again, till you fall asleep for real.

He really wants to see how it happens. How you shift. But he’s too tired. Maybe he’ll try to see it the next time. Or the next. For now, he’ll just hold you close and sleep tight.

………………………..

“How are we supposed to use this?” Key asks, inspecting a package of menstrual cups.

“Really?” You reply, bewildered.

“Yah! I’m serious. Teach me.”

“It’s not rocket science Key. Stick it up your hole.”

“Ew, don’t say it like that.”

“Then how do you want me to say it.” You roll your eyes as you toss few packets of pads and tampons into your cart. Trying to recall all the other stuffs you need to buy. Perking up suddenly when you remember the ketchup. “Wait, ketchup! Wait here.” You already start to leave your complaining best friend behind. Going back to the section of ‘sauces and seasonings’ which you already passed. You blame yourself for not preparing a list before coming grocery shopping as you stand before the aisle. Eyes scanning the varied of brands and products before they stop on your favorite one. You pick two large size bottles with hope of not coming here anytime soon for ketchup again. You nearly turn around to leave and join back with Key when a sudden voice startles you. It comes from behind.

“What a greedy little thing.” It says. Before you can turn around and find out who’s the owner of that voice, however, one of the ketchup bottles is snatched up from your hands.

“Yah!” You snap immediately. Turning around to find who’s the lunatic that think they can act like this way with strangers. And a mop of silver hair is what you notice first. Then a sharp jawline. Lastly fair skin and two black eyes hidden beneath that silver locks. The lunatic is a man. Or a boy you would say since he looks like he’s fifteen. Taller than you are though. He clicks his tongue.

“Why would you be so greedy and take two of them when you only need one. Over consumption is going to kill us one day.” Says as he puts the bottle of ketchup back in its place. Your brows merge instantly.

“YAH!” You exclaim loudly this time. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Grimace as you proceed to take your ketchup bottle back. Just before your fingers even brush on the bottle he stops you cold. By suddenly grabbing your wrist. Your eyes go wide in surprise. For minute. Then you avert them to the stranger next to you. Shoot him a murderous glare. Clench your jaw tightly as you try to free your hand from his tight grip. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? Does he think it’s cool. That he looks like a fucking heart throb.

“Why would you need two when one is perfectly enough. Why being such a greedy thing.” He clicks his tongue yet again. Hell, he looks like he’s fifteen, but he sure do speak like he’s ninety. You feel your patience running thin.

“How’s that any of your fucking business kid. Let my hand go before I damn fucking scream.” You grit your teeth. For your relief he does let go of your hand. You immediately grab your ketchup bottle. Almost turn around to leave this mad kid when he speaks again.

“Well, you being greedy over a bottle of ketchup? Not my business. But you being greedy over someone else’s life and messing up with the order of things? That’s my business through and through.” His tone stern and serious. And you freeze. Freeze halfway turning around your heel. Turn back slowly to him. This time eyes wide in realization.

“Wh-what?” You let out without even your knowledge. He smirks.

“Oh, you pick up things rather fast. I wonder why, such a smart girl would risk her life this way.” Clicks his tongue again. “But then you’re a human. Humans are greedy. And your greed, little thing, is about to consume you whole.” Looks you dead in the eye. Your mouth is suddenly dry. This time you’re not surprised to see a man walking up to you and starts talking about your travels between two universes. No, you have expected this wholly. Even though you didn’t expect a silver haired young man.

“I- I…”

“Save it greedy little thing, I’m not here to hear you come up with excuses. Because there are none. You chose to be ruined. All because you were craving for a life you can’t have, you don’t have.” He takes a step forward. You’re not surprised to see him, yes. Still, you find it hard to comprehend the situation though. This is the answers you’ve been waiting for. You’re supposed to ask for a way to stop this. Fuck, it makes your heart clench. You’re not least bit happy to see this person. Answers mean the way to stop this. Stopping this mean ending your journey. Oh, but you have only started it. And that means you’ll never get to see Jimin again. Never get to see Jungkook again. Or anyone else. Suddenly, you feel like running away. Away from this strange man who’s about to ruin it all.

He gives you a knowing smile. “See, I am right. But here’s the thing little greedy human, that life you crave, isn’t yours to live. And the more you try to make it yours, the more you messed up with your own life. So, listen to me closely.” He leans forward. You stay rooted. Not even being able to recoil back when he starts to whisper against your ear. “End of the summer next year. That’s the only ever chance you’ll get. After that you’re stuck in this loop forever. Until it destruct you into ashes and you’re wiped from both worlds. So, think wise this time. Don’t ruin it. Stop being greedy for someone else’s life. And remember no more than seventy-two hours in one world. Break it, and you’re done.” With that he pulls away. Starts to walk away. You expect him to disappear, but he doesn’t. Is departing like a normal human being. You look at his retrieving back. Still, rooted into the spot. Feeling your heart shatter. His words ringing in your mind.

“Hey! What took you so- What’s happening?” You hear Key’s voice coming next to you. Yet it feels like coming from far away. There’s a question you need to ask. You need to ask it from him. You break into an abrupt run, startling Key.

“Hey, wait. Please wait.” He does. “Are you sure there isn’t any way?” Your voice shaky. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“What did I tell you about being greedy now, little thing. No. There aren’t. It’s you stay and die or do the right thing and live.”

“But then why put me there in the first place? Why did I start to go there?”

“Because someone was greedy back then too.”

…………………………….

You dash up the staircase toward Jungkook’s apartment hurriedly. Mindlessly. There’s only one thing ringing in your mind. You need to meet Jimin immediately and tell him what happened. You had a very restless sleep last night, filled with nightmares. You’re scared. You’re terrified. And one must think the reason is turning into dust. But no, what terrifies you most is the thought of it all ending. You’re scared because you don’t know a way to stop it. At least not without self-destruction. You’re terrified because you don’t know how you’ll manage to fall into a normal life. Without any of these people in your life. Especially Park Jimin.

You know you’re shameless. Even after that fifteen-year-old grandpa explicitly warned you about the consequences of being greedy, here you are still being that. Greedy. You can’t lose this. You can’t lose Jimin. How it would be to wake up every day knowing you’ll never see him again. Not even by accident. He’ll be worlds apart. How it’ll be never to see Jungkook. Never to bake Kook’s bliss again. To not have an annoying boss like Hoseok. You’ll never be able to laugh hard at seeing full grown adults act like toddlers.

No. No. No. You can’t let this happen.

You need to tell Jimin what’s happening. He might come up with a way.

In your haste and in your oblivious state, you almost miss the familiar figure that always wait for you every other morning. Only almost though. It’s hard to miss a tattooed muscle bunny. Especially, when he practically jump at you. Not even letting you take the last step as he is grabbing from your shoulders tightly. A surprised yelp escapes your mouth.

“Kookie!”

“Are you okay?” You both shout at the same time. Your brows furrowing at his words. For a moment it doesn’t make any sense to you that he’s suddenly asking such a question. And there’s an urgency to his voice too. As if something bad happened. To make it worse he looks so worried. His doe eyes flickering between yours frantically. His grip on you tightening. “Noona, tell me you’re, okay?” He presses. You take a good look at his panicked expression before slowly nodding.

“Of course, why are you─”

“You didn’t come home. You never do that, and I tried calling you and texted you and I was so fucking worried. And... and…” His words falter, trailing into stammers. Closes his eyes tightly and opens them back to peer at you. Stressed. You can visibly see how concerned and distraught he is. And it hits you. Slowly. Of course, you didn’t come home the other day. So did you forget to check your phone too. It’s not even in your possession. You hope Jimin will remember to grab it with him. You open your mouth to tell Jungkook that. To apologize. You genuinely feel bad. Guilty for making him worried. But then you close it again. Not exactly knowing what to say. Not that you can say you were with Jimin. What’s the possible explanation. “Where were you?” Jungkook manages to ask again at the lack of your response. You remain silent, though. Raking your brain for a good excuse.

“I…um... uh…”

“Don’t lie please.” Jungkook interrupts your pointless excuse. You gape at him Confused. “You were with Jimin, weren’t you?” It sounds more like a statement than a question. He’s letting you know that he knows. Your hearts sinks to the pit of your stomach. You inhale shaky breath. Wonder how he knows though. He gives you the answer without even you asking. “Hoseok. I called Hoseok when you didn’t answer my calls and….”

“Oh.” You feel your body heat up with shame. Even though this is the second time. You feel even more ashamed to face him than the first. You just proved you’re a lying bitch.

“Why?”

You feel dumbstruck at his question. What’s the meaning of that question anyway. That’s not what he’s supposed to do. He may have understood your situation the first time. But now, you expect him to see you as the bitch who you are. Disgust him. Not to ask questions such as this.

“What? What do─”

“Why are you doing it Noona? Like are you really in love?” You watch as Jungkook’s entire expression morphed into something hurt. Like you’ve caused him a great heart break.

No. Of course, not. Right?

You feel irritated suddenly. You have no time to have this conversation now.

“No… no, Kookie. I’m not.” Yet you try your best to stay calm. Jungkook has every right to question you. You’re the bad person here.

“Then why? It’s just sex? He makes you cum that hard, that you don’t mind that he’s in a relationship for five years. So, you don’t mind that he’s cheating on his girlfriend? How good is the sex?” Jungkook shakes you by your shoulders. Suddenly, he looks mad. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him mad. That irritation flares inside you. You fail to stay calm.

“Why would you care Jungkook?” You snap. Frustration and the urgency to get out of here getting the best of you. Partially because you need to see Jimin and partially because you feel like you can’t see Jungkook in the eye.

“Because I do. You know I fucking do. You gonna fucking hurt yourself in the end. Jimin is a god damn selfish prick to keep dragging you into this mess. He is fucking playing with your life─”

“Jungkook.” You sigh heavily. Annoyed.

“No, Noona. That’s the truth. I don’t fucking want you to hurt. And what’s your plan? What are you gonna do? Keep going? Until how long, how long are you gonna do this?”

“Well, not for so long apparently.” You resign. Give up completely. Can feel your eyes burn with freshly gathering up tears. “I only have a fucking year.” You’re ashamed yes. Guilty, yes. But the hurt comes to the surface yet again surpassing all the other emotions. Jungkook’s grip on your shoulders softens. So does his expression. Anger morphs into confusion and worry.

“What do you mean ‘a year’? Did you?”

“Yes”

And like that your conversation takes a drastic change. From Jungkook confronting you of your poor life decisions to you telling him what happened yesterday at a darn supermarket. By the time you end your story, you and Jungkook are sitting on the top step. Staring into nothing.

“Fuck.” That’s the only thing Jungkook mumbles in the end.

“Yeah, right? I don’t know what I should do Kookie.” You prop your chin on your hands.

“Well, uh- fuck, me neither. But Noona?” The question in his voice makes you turn toward him with a raised brow. “Why did the kid call you greedy? How’s any of that were your doing?” Fires out his curiosity.

Oh fuck!

See, you had done the same with Key yesterday. Had to give her a possible and logical explanation as to what happened. But you managed to do it by hiding the parts that needed to be hidden. Fuck yourself for forgetting to do the same with Jungkook. You blink at his innocent face for a moment. Then lower your gaze to your lap. What can you say anyway. You refuse to lie anymore.

“It’s not that it didn’t work, was it? You wished to be here.” He chuckles humorlessly. “Because you wanted to be with him?” Throws his head up.

“He asked me to stay. All right? I had every intention to─”

“But you didn’t, did you? You stayed because he asked? To be what, his mistress? My god Noona, why would you have to lower yourself that much?” Jungkook’s voice is filled with pure disbelief. Accusation. You feel that irritation raises its head once again. And it’s not even about Jungkook rudely pointing out your weaknesses. No. It’s the shame. Because every word he says is true.

“Do you think I don’t know Kookie. I know what type of stupid, selfish person I am. I couldn’t fucking help it though.” Jungkook tries to cut you off, but you don’t let him this time. “I tried my best but here I am. And I understand that you might want me to disappear from your sight this moment…” Tears start to prick at your eyes again. This time fueled by self-pity. “Like… I know, I’m an insufferable mess. A fucking disaster. And I promise you I would get myself out from your life soon as I can. I’ll figure a way─”

“Please don’t.” This time Jungkook succeeds in cutting you off. Sigh hard.

“Huh?”

“Please don’t say that and don’t move out.” Turns toward you completely. Takes your hands in his. Smiles sadly. So sadly, that your heart breaks. “I never told you, you’re any of that. I mean ugh- fuck I don’t know… It’s wrong but you said you only have a year, right? So, don’t try to live that year shutting everyone else from your life because some jerk knows how to make you cum hard.” You wince at his words slightly. He sighs heavily again. Looks you in the eye. You can see how his are glinting. Are those tears? “And I’m sorry that… uh- I didn’t want to confront you or anything. I was just worried Noona. I was so fucking scared you just left like that. Don’t do it again. And don’t move out. You can stay here. Please don’t. C’mon you listened to that asshole when he asked you to sacrifice your life, am I not even worthy enough to just consider living with me?” Pouts. Jungkook always knows how to get what he wants. In a different context, you would have rolled your eyes. But now, you feel oddly touched.

“So what? You want to drag yourself into my disastrous life as well? You want to live with a homewrecker? You still gonna take my side when I am the wrong person here? You want to become a part of the family too?” You laugh bitterly.

“What family?”

“Hoseok knows. And I think Taehyung knows too.”

“And you left me out of it?”

“Well, I didn’t tell them. We got caught. And if I can Jungkook, I’d keep you away from this mess. Away from me.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Well, guess what? It’s not up to you to decide that. Just because I call you Noona, baby, it doesn’t mean you get to call all the shots.” Squeezes your hands. “I can make decisions for myself perfectly well. And I don’t care Noona. Homewrecker or whatever. Call me biased, I don’t care. I’m only worried about you. I’m gonna take your side even if you killed a man.” Changes his position instantly and he’s crouching down in front of you in a second. Your hands are still in his. Looks at you with puppy eyes. Innocent. You feel your heart shatter.

“Why Jungkook? Don’t be such a saint.” You try your best to well up your tears. “God, you’re too good. I feel like I’m taking fucking advantage.”

“And I’m so happy if you’re doing it. So what? Do we have a deal here? Don’t move out, hm? I really don’t want to lose my alien because she’s too horny.”

You scrunch up your face in disgust. Why would he have to say it like that? How amazing Jungkook is to make a joke out of this sordid situation, just after he was flat out confronting you a minute ago. You genuinely thought he was mad at you. That he’s ashamed of being a friend of yours. You thought that’s the reason for bringing it out. But it was care? Jungkook is such a pure soul. You stare at him. Failing to keep your tears in your eyes.

You don’t deserve him, now do you? You’ve lied to him so many times. Have used his good will so many times. You’re a bad person. But he wants to be a part of that, why?

Because he is a good person.

“Kookie.” You mutter weakly.

“Yes?”

“So, you’re fine with what I’m doing?”

“No, I’m not.” Shakes his head. Right when your brows start to merge in confusion he speaks. “I’m not fine with what you’re doing but I’m fine with you. No matter what you do, I am fine with you. Maybe… just maybe we’ll be able to stop it. Before you get hurt.”

You don’t think it will be the case at all. You can’t see a way out from Jimin. No. But still you just nod. Just for the sake of him. “What if I am to ruin your life too?” Questions.

“How?” You have no answer for that. So, he continues. “I don’t see a way you can do that. But if that’s the case, I’m okay with it. I like it when my life is happening. It was so dull before I met my alien.”

“Oh, my god, will you please…”

He just smiles. That tension and the soured emotions you felt a moment ago dissipating into thin air. Of course, they are. Jungkook always knows how to make your day better. You don’t know why he does that but when you think about it, he has always been there for you when something goes wrong. From the very beginning. He’s already a part of the mess you created, whether you like it or not. He was your escape when you had no place to go. He was the man who knew everything from the beginning. He was the sweet soul who never once judged you for your wrongdoing.

He was,

The man who shared a cigarette under a starry sky with you.

The man who understood why you did what you did.

The man who always made sure you smile.

The man who danced with you in his kitchen.

The man who’ll always have your back when things would crumble down into ashes.

That’s who he is. The only other person who you are deeply tangled with. The Bambi eyed muscle bunny who has a mattress in his living room.

And you adore him. Course you do. He’s very special to you. You only manage a light nod when he beams up. Hurriedly pull you to your feet. Crushes you in a bear hug. Funny. He is. But that’s how he is. Because he is,

Jeon Jungkook.

..............................................................................................................................

a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare @butterymin @angellekookie @futuristicenemychaos @minijagiya

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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 2 days ago

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thoughts on going to parties with nat? like the party in the pilot episode, jackie defo labels these parties ‘compulsory team building’ in order to get the whole team to come (i can hear shauna rolling her eyes)

omg imagine pre-dating and there’s a game of 7 minutes in heaven and you spin the bottle and it lands on her and she can see you’re all nervous and stuff, so after jackie shoves you into a wardrobe or something she says you don’t have to do this but of course you say it’s fine and you will, (cus she’s so damn hot) she’d defo be gentle with you anyway and ease you into it. it’s like canon for me that she cups cheeks as she kisses, im pretty sure she does that when kissing travis in season 1?

even imagine going to these stupid high school parties whilst dating and just sitting to the side of a room with her and making fun of jeff and randy being idiotic and eventually being dragged to the dance floor to dance with the rest of the team, or just blowing everyone off for drunken walks round the neighbourhood, eventually crashing in your room

i clearly have a lot to say about this topic lol so if you ever want more thoughts i have millliiiiooooooonsssssss

-lucy dacus anon <3333

omg yes send more whenever, id love to write a full fic on the concept

showing up to the stupid party because Jackie said it was mandatory (everyone knows that it's not really, but today isn't a day you want to piss Jackie off.). You're there for about ten minutes before you're plotting ways to leave without anyone (Jackie) noticing. Before you can do anything, though, one of the Yellowjackets, probably Jackie or Shauna, but maybe Van, comes and finds you. Whoever it is drags you to a circle of the other Yellowjackets, and you immediately know what's happening.

But Nat's there, and part of you hopes that she'll spin the bottle and it'll land on you. So you sit your ass down, ready to humor your teammates. Worst-case scenario, you have to sit with somebody in a closet for seven minutes. Best-case scenario? You and Nat kissing.

When Nat spins the bottle, it lands on Van, which is both a disappointment and a relief. You're obviously sad it didn't land on you, but you know that those two aren't going to end up kissing.

An excruciating half an hour later, it's finally your turn. Your hands are shaking as you spin, and you're begging the universe for the bottle to land on Nat. By some sort of miracle, it does. But now you're freaking out, because what if she doesn't want to kiss you? Or It's a bad kiss?

Before you have a real chance to react, Jackie's shoving you in Lottie's giant pantry, and you're stuck. Nat can clearly tell you're nervous, so she's joking, trying to get you to relax, making sure you know there's no pressure, you don't have to do anything if you're not feeling it. She won't be offended.

Once she's pretty sure you're calm enough to handle it, she takes your face in her hands and looks at you for a second, giving you time to tell her to stop. When you don't she kisses you. You're expecting roughness, but she's surprisingly soft. Probably not wanting to freak you out any more.

You don't really talk about it for a couple weeks until you like actually end up dating.

BUT YES at parties just drinking with her, literally judging everyone around you because you're drunk and it's fun. Sharing drinks, shotgunning sharing a a cigarette or a blunt. #needthat.

Sometimes, if you're feeling energetic, you'll make her dance to the pop music that she claims to hate. If you're tired or overwhelmed or have just bored, you leave and wander (or drive, if one of you is sober) around the neighborhood.

At the end of the night you always end up crashing at your house, and you always make sure Nat has water and Advil so that she doesn't feel like dying in the morning.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie thoughts #natalie scatorccio thoughts 💭

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a-leg-without-fear · 5 days ago

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Matt Murdock as a Fucking Dragon

this is my half of a lil impromptu collab with the amazing @pastafossa. spawned by a dream she had the other day and turned into a reality. keep a look out for her part of the collab :)

#daredevil #charlie cox #matt murdock #marvel #daredevil fanart #charlie cox fanart #matt murdock fanart #dragon #dragon design #matt murdock as a dragon #daredevil as a dragon #thinking of turning this into a series #it was SO FUCKING FUN drawing this dragon #i know the buildings are rough don't come for me #murdock tuna team #the red thread

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notachair · 2 days ago

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I think... this puts to word some of what I felt was kinda of with how handled things. Some anyway. I've been trying to articulate what feels... off. It's rough so bear with me trying to untangle more of it... and I'm so sorry but this is a wall... on your post... tell me if you want me to make my own and just link to this instead.

When it comes to Jayce's little speech there's this line, as an example...

And what got me immediately here is... when have we really been shown that to be true, to "always" be true? I felt like this was an assumption put onto Viktor by the writers. Internalized ableism is a bitch, but I think they're doing a lot here with the implication of "always". Disabled folks all have our own journeys with it, but I don't think moments of falling prey to it- is something that should define his whole historic relationship to his disability. (Also one's allowed to vent about one's experiences with one's disability and the realities of how one's met with in the world, without it being taken as a diminishing of one's own worth.) And as you say, none of that really address the whys of the structural aspects affecting him both physically and mentally. Like (in regards to the internalized ableism) what is it that is constantly trying to make those shards of pain and inadequacy they'd put in him- to expand and consume, despite whatever fight he'd put up against it on either the internal or external front? And then there's also the difference between wanting to manage one's disability and... you know, hoping to cure one's *terminal* illness in fear of death's face.

I won't deny other disabled people feeling any comfort in those words. I do think there's something delicate and meaningful in having someone care for you and remind you of your worth when those shards, unwittingly or not, have spread and festered a wound in your self perception, because people keep saying it should be there and trying to create it if it's not. It's not that it can't be or isn't impactful, but... was that it? The big message? In combination with everything else, it felt more... preachy? And to a certain degree patronizing? The issue is that I felt *talked at* from someone's able-bodied* perspective. *Yes, even if Jayce no longer is non-disabled himself, that current commonality isn't emphasized, and even so- disabilities and disabled experiences aren't 1 = 1 (this applies to me too), never mind the *terminal* aspect, his leg's also an acquired disability.

Okay so what only ever Jayce apparently managed to have Viktor see, was essentially: "only you can show me that perfection perceived is not something worth seeking- an empty reward. There's beauty in imperfections", or something right? And his mode of attack was... that. Idk I am left unimpressed. I understand the point of putting value on perceived "imperfections", and that Viktor (could... actually... I had a whole section on internalized ableism I removed lol. But.)... that his disabilities could be and was perceived as "imperfections" within his new framework (btw, I saw him using the hexcore on his bad leg as a means to test out his chances for curing his terminal illness- 🤔 not really as a "I kinda just really wanted to cure my leg idk", and it would make for the most obvious results if it worked without messing with the vital organs of his torso, though he was only allowed to keep it for so long by that hexcore). But also, the philosophy he presents was more about than just his own disability or actual terminal illness (!!), it's about a flawed perspective on the general human condition, put to the extreme after Viktor became increasingly isolated (despite being surrounded by people mind and body, "we are one") and grew further detached, partly to the nature of his new existence* (*thoughts to be had here though, and also, whatever happened to the build up and clarification of to whatever degree the hexcore itself influenced him?).

Motive: on his desire to help others, emotionality.

A core part of Viktor's character is his desire to help and aid people, particularly those of the Undercity, and with Jayce it becomes about helping people through the science of hextech (a renewable and non-exhaustive energy source, I think there's a Point there) (tho I've gotta say... their presented products in S1Act2... can't say it's impossible for geniuses to be kinda dumb, it wasn't what I expected anyhow lmao). Act 3 Viktor, post-"imperfections of emotions and individual agency leads to pain and strife, as the other inextricably bound side of the coin = humanity's self-corrupting contradiction" conclusion, basically ended up out there trying to calculate himself to solving human suffering on an evolutionary level (truly Singed's apprentice that way), which was just eugenics in the end.

Even if that point of validation, of acceptance, is nice, especially when previously thought something forsaken to you... and despite what some would previously read/portray him within fandom- he DOES care about the interpersonal, like there's a reason he clings onto that goddamn tattered blanket 😭 And he continues to make a point of wanting Jayce by his side again in both act 2 and 3. But I still feel like it misses the "point" when the majority of the focus ends up on "you're doing this because of internalized ableism but I'm telling you that you matter actually, to me". I feel like it simplifies a lot to draw such conclusions of the matter, and make that the most effective point of "attack". I mean- seeing himself and what he was about to make the world into- kinda did after the mask broke a bit. But- other than Viktor's lines of "why do you persist? After everything I've done?", the "you were never broken" ends up defining this important built up scene. And I dislike this focus that completely overrides the structural issues involved, and basically works as a good-feel band-aid. I dislike the way Viktor's character motivation feels reduced to that point, with that "always" in particular, as well as the "only you" when that was the conviction made. Combating ableism 101.

Like I get he's attacking the personal projections that could drive the conviction, but he sorta kinda didn't hit all the marks there. Uh- not to say that I don't know he's just being sincere here as well, in expressing his care and love for Viktor. But I feel like it works as a deflection that shouldn't have been entirely effective on its own (yes the future-vision, but it's not emphasized in a way I'd like), story-wise anyway. I thought maybe they'd emphasize more on the emotional part, of his overall self-perception and of Viktor hurting (and not just in the "internalized ableism" way) despite however unaffected he might or might not seem (def not all gone). I can see Viktor in his state of upset and alienation of his body (and mind?)... see that hurt (grown from affection) as something, on a personal level, that holds or has held him back from actually follow up on those dreams of helping people (which become *that* in result). And with the access to the power that he has... conveniently think to attempt ridding himself of it, distancing himself, rather than process it. There's a certain... distancing happening just from that nature of having access to the experiences of so many people too, through that hivemind even if it's the most intimate thing as well and would stir a lot of emotion within him. And then there's him getting offed by Jayce in act 2 where he has his whole "two sides of the same coin" moment, and in the end, seeing "the glorious revolution" as a final calculated solution to strife (and- perhaps his own internal strife). There's something too to that "the line" sequence after being rejected in episode 8. But yea, there is a point here that could have been made in terms of valuing "imperfections" of the human condition, but it's... not really being made? "They're part of everything that makes you you, and everything that I admired about you" (paraphrasing), sure, but what about some emphasis on other things idk. He's more than that and all that, but I feel like they ironically made everything about his disabilities instead, and I'm dreading the state of readings and depictions🧍

(Btw on that note of "part of what makes you you", I did like that even the herald still had his braces and ect. fused to his body, and even glowing up in the astral plane. I liked that the ones that were "cured", was not left unmarked by the change. Of note- a lot of those people seemed to have had similar conditions to Viktor, in the sense that they affected the limbs. Pretty sure that one kid who led Jayce was the kid in a wheelchair beside Ekko in ep 7 when watching Heimerdinger's performance)

Also, I would... have liked... more of him taking a side with the Undercity though... and agency, non-agency, death, transformation…go rage some my guy 🔥

Motive: on Piltover / Zaun, the structural.

So on another point... a very important aspect here for Viktor IS that initial dream of theirs WITH the sociopolitical circumstances. Before all of the cult stuff, the main tension between Jayce and Viktor is the matter of the Undercity and how they're dealing with the hextech (I've kinda wanted to make a post about it). And similarly with catvi and the story otherwise, that element does not get as acknowledged, and it suffers for it. Their dynamic and history is not removed from its sociopolitical context. And there... is something to that shard of insecurity impacting him more than he'd thought. But what it comes back to- is the structural injustices he has been faced with both as disabled and a Zaunite/someone of the Undercity. Like his terminal illness was literally fucking because of the damn injustices Piltover inflicted upon them, majorly didn't care to fix and would punish people for protesting. And as I said, their common initial dream, was essentially about helping people through the science of hextech, like- people of the Undercity. Something which they failed to follow up on, and then Viktor was dying, accidentally involved Sky in his own risky business that resulted in her death and him getting suicidal, then- died from Jinx's attack- frankensteined in violation of his agency (!!!)- and then Viktor leaves Jayce *after seeing the hextech weapons plans* (double betrayal). And there really is something to Sky's significance here... But yea, Viktor leaves with a totem to those hopeful dreams, in order to try to help or aid people of the Undercity with the new abilities he had. Like he's not wrong for wanting to do that, I get why he'd just up and leave. His philosophy about things resulting into the idea of a "glorious evolution" to solve human strife and the details of those transformation do essentially just become eugenics in the end though (btw, whatever was their choices with "all those willing" to forceful turning...?).

I think there are ways they could have explored further nuances around all of this, but like with the other things, the journey was cut short and simplified. In a sense I'm glad he had more agency than people were speculating, but at the same time... And I think there is a Choice done in making Viktor's "glorious evolution" the bigger bad (together with Ambessa and whatever she was doing all of that for), AND that it served as a way to override majorly every other conflict by presenting a bigger bad for Zaun and Piltover to "unite against a common enemy" for. If they'd emphasized more on him being a reaction to those injustices, with a hexcore boost, to Piltover's structural injustices against the Undercity (which includes that social model of disability), then maybe it could work more. AND with it having a presence in the Viktor-Jayce confrontation/resolution. But it's more "both sides"-ing the issue, with its favour in Piltover's hands despite it all. And like- "I dreamt about giving magic to the people-" yes, but what was the reason why? I'll give him points for the "now" in "now I only want my partner back" anyhow. Idk, I don't see the disregard of the implicit "wanting to help people" part as a win. Though it's presented through the emphasis of "magic" which has been demonstrated as... sinister to a degree, but also... not? Potentially. But the magic was never THE issue.

Even on just the interpersonal level between the too (which it's not restricted to at all)- I, again, dislike this focus that completely overrides the structural issues, and works as a good-feel band-aid. It needs to extend further, and sure it does in a sense on the individual basis with his choice to stay with Viktor even when he gave him an out. But as an important message moment? It doesn't demonstrate enough to extend outside of it, because we don't see it applied in different contexts, like properly addressing his whys. And with Viktor's one line of "why do you persist? after everything I've done" "because I promised you"... it's not that what Viktor did and was about to do wasn't Fucked Up (and he was having a lot of guilt about accidentally having Sky killed, I can see him getting fixated on trying to "make up for" it somewhat after being brought back to life in his alienated body, and in a sense uh... overcompensating), but idk.. I wish there was something that extended Jayce's way too? That addressed those points of tension in their history? I am not a Jayce-hater, but I don't think he's an uncritical "hero" here. Viktor ends up having little voice at this level despite his speeches (we barely hear him talk after the mask fractured some). And the matter of his forceful transformation, is not really brought up other than potentially with "this chain of events, started with you" in that one council room confrontation. "I never asked for this!"- neither did he <3<3<3. Anyway.

THERE IS SO MUCH TO SAY. But I gotta round it up eventually, so I've cutting off all my other things that found its place on this reblog while I've had it in the drafts.

Agency, disability, biomechanics and transhumanism is a TOPIC though. A topic with many fine lines.

Thank you so much for incredible disability representation!! Huh? Uh, yeah, I guess it's okay that there's no acknowledgement of the social model of disability... Oh, our character's feelings about his body and the treatment he faced aren't really discussed in detail? I guess that's alright. 'You were never broken... there's beauty in imperfection... they made you who you are'? That could be appropriate given context, yeah! Oh, no? Not addressing his pain or the discrimination against him or the fact his disabling factors were preventable?

No acknowledgement of how the world should be made better and safer for people who actually have disabilities? Only a message of 'disabilities don't make you inherently broken' that feels aimed at abled folks? ...Okay.

Anyway... thank you for the incredible disability representation.

#oh there's... SO MANY LAYERS TO THIS WHOLE THING. SO MUCH THAT COULD BE SAID.#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane spoilers #disability #my rambles #long post #disabled

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5231045 · 2 years ago

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attempting to map out 221b

#not confident about the ground floor other than the kitchen and bathroom are next to each other cause plumbing #there might be a small window in bedroom 1 ground floor cause the wall seems to not be blocked on the outside #yea bedroom 2 ground floor is noisy af cause street lvl windows and double staircase foot traffic lol #originally I was going to shove the bathroom under the staircase lol #yeah so idk where to put the attic staircase #also the attic interior is way too long to fit in the roof #unless the attic is the mf tardis #anyway do not hold me to this lol #lmao updated commentary ->#changed up the layout based on new info and some comments I got on the first/rough version #it's still not 1:1 to the canon designs but I've tried to place things in a way that make sense and fit into the building (sorta)#the interior only makes sense if the building was way bigger than it's depicted as #also I wanted to put the attic access in the closet but it didn't fit right #been treating the windows on the side of the building fast and loose cause man idk I don't get paid to do this #the only way it makes sense that there's light coming through from both the back and front windows is if there's an open enough space behind #maybe the building behind 221b is like.. long and narrow. or L shaped or something idk #still don't know how I feel about the main and attic stairs placement and layout but they work(?)#reference #ref

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acourtofquestions · 2 months ago

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Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

#Chapter 23 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Elide Lochan #Finnula #no spoilers pls first read along w me chapter spoilers in post & tags below w more annotations/quotes/notes/reacts/perspective 3 of 4 #The City of Rivers… can Aelin get a City of Fire? cuz that would be cool & Elide already said “fear was another companion it can’t be worse #IT WAS LORCANS SHIRT😭 & he cared so much he lied so she’d use it from Gavriel/Rowan😭 OH ELORCAN😭😭😭#Yet this place seemed like a paradise. WHATS REAL? is it a Maeve illusion… but it sounds lovely; like Rowan could just fly around😭#Pink and blue flowers draped from windowsills; little canals wended between some of the streets ferrying people in bright long boats.#And though a good dose of fear would aid in her cover too much would spell her doom. -smart clever spy gal Annabeth Chase would be proud #And this city Rowan had told Elide had been built from stone to keep Brannon or any of his descendants from razing it to the ground.#when u know ur evil cuz you had to build in a backup plan for the day Brannons peeps eventually come to shut that shit down… my poor Aelin #Elide fought the limp that grew with each step farther into the city--farther away from Gavriel's magic… or Lorcan’s👀😭🖤🤨#okay Elide I see your mirror mirror Aos moves with the berry listen and compact trick she can do it with a broken heart #cycle. She hadn't been able to find the words anyway. Not with what it would crumple in her chest to even think them. WELL NOW IM CRUMPLED #As if she'd been weeping for weeks… yeah that fits the KoA vibes #But it wasn't the reflection she wanted to see. But rather the square behind her. — BRILLIANT QUEEN — lol thx Lorcan for having a mirror #if only anything could be a witch mirror then they could all cell chat and communicate cause the travel time in this one is rough #she was merely staring into a compact mirror no more than a self-conscious girl trying to fix her frazzled appearance — she is the best spy #A girl trying to muster some dignity. Let them see what they wanted to see-A girl far out of her element in this lovely well-dressed city #cornflower blue ALWAYS THESE SHADES #her golden-brown skin shone with an inner light. Her eyes were soft with kindness. And concern.#had always made them foolishly off guard and eager to get away. To tell her what she needed to know. — funny 2 watch Elide do this after HoF #The sort of voice Elide had always imagined great beauties possessing the sort of voice that made men fall all over themselves.#Cairn. One of the males swore; the other scanned Elide from head to toe. But the two females had gone still. — agreed he’s the worst #the portrait of hope—yeah child’s right cause no—Elide always naming people—If you escaped Cairn don't go looking for him again.—true #Cairn is blood-sworn to our queen. Still makes him a prick TRUTH — doesn’t need to be a far to catch the lie — WHERE IS SHE DAMNIT #She was about to do it again wheen… The dark-haired beauty from the tavern was standing behind her. — SHIT #Maeve was not in Doranelle. How long would that remain true? Had to make the next performance count. — how many had she done this already?🥹😭

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catfishofoldin99colours · 5 months ago

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mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Bad.

#catfish speaks #catfish complains #been. a rough day #not world ending. but certainly not Good #had a vehicular argument with a tesla driver on the way to work which put me in a Bad fucking mood #im so goddamn tired still from the last few weeks anf going to bed late last night (my fault but still)#work was. so fucking overstimulating holy shit #lights were Too bright there was no music i should not have been around people at all #the credit card thingy was So frustrating and wouldn't work #other work is so tiring and i know im being held to high standards and deadlines for it which #sucks #then checked my uni grades and i fucking bombed the course i did last semester #like Badly i wasn't even close to the actual pass mark i was way off #and like. that was one course. on its own. that i enjoyed and did put effort into #and im wondering #is my degree That important #i have a job. i can do interviews and practical experience. im smart and capable.#i have a decent support network in my parents financially (loathe as i am to use it)#if i genuinely am too exhausted to actually be engaged in academics or actyally try.#what thr fuck is the point of suffering and accruing more university debt #ive been here six years. its not going away.#i want to LIVE my LIFE #i don't want to be studying forever #i want to actually genuinely for real drop out and leave it behind #i tried i failed. sorry but its not working. i have things id rather be doing instead #and i KNOW so many people are going to say 'oh don't make such a drastic decision so quickly'#this is has been like 3 years coming honestly #i have considered this multiple fuckin times #and WHY should my suffering be so necessary to any potential benefits that the goivernment keeps fucking over anyway #uni debt keeps building. indexation went way the fuck up recently

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kingkatsuki · 9 months ago

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— my protector

Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.

Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.

“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.

He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.

The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.

“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”

“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”

“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”

“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”

“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”

“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”

“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.

“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.

“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.

“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”

“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.

“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”

“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”

“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.

“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”

“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”

You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.

Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.

“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”

“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.

You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.

Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”

“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.

“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”

“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”

“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”

“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.

“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.

“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”

“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.

“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”

“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”

“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”

“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.

“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”

“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.

“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.

“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”

“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”

He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.

Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”

He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.

“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.

“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.

“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.

“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”

“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”

In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.

“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.

“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.

“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”

“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.

“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.

His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.

“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.

You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.

“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”

“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.

You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.

“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”

“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”

Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.

“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.

“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.

“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”

He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.

“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.

Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.

“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.

Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.

It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.

“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”

You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.

“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.

“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.

“No? Then who do you belong to?”

“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.

“Louder.”

“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.

“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”

He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.

Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.

“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”

You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.

“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”

You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”

#sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi x you #Sanemi Shinazugawa x reader #Sanemi Shinazugawa smut #Shinazugawa Sanemi x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer smut #kny x you #kny x reader #kny smut

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sceletaflores · 21 days ago

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I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent.

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts.

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning.

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more.

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you.

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved.

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure.

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist.

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain.

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer.

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours.

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow.

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest.

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt.

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months ago

Text

sore and satisfied

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), dubcon!!, mentions of baby trapping, kinda pregnancy kink? its more of a control thing, dom!rafe, kinda fluffy at the end??, manipulation, bruises

“no.” you whine, feeling rafes rough hands cup your cheeks as he raises your face up to meet his. “im still sore from last time.”

“but you felt so good, right?” rafe questions, his lips ghosting over yours, his breath hot against you, making your mouth drop open, expecting the fierce kiss.

“yes…” it did feel good, even through the rough pounding and spankings and rafe gripping you so tightly you still have bruises.

“and ill be much gentler this time, baby.” rafe finally gives you a kiss, and it's like he's trying to convince you of his ability to stay gentle as his lips glide over yours.

“promise?” you whimper, hands gripping onto rafes shirt as you already start to go weak in the knees.

“of course baby.” rafe grins down at you, and you should have known what that grin meant, but you let him take you upstairs anyways.

his hands are gentle at first, undressing you carefully and praising you, celebrating every inch of your body that gets revealed.

“such a pretty pussy.” rafe says, cocking his head to the side as he looks between your thighs. “already looks ready for me to fuck.”

“need a little-” you're about to ask for something, for rafe to use his mouth again or rub you with his fingers, anything to open you up more, when rafe stands suddenly.

hes stripped naked before you can even blink, cock hard and jutting from his muscled body.

“i thought you said-”

“i haven't been rough yet, have i?” rafe will fight you to get inside your cunt if he has to, but he prefers you be pliable enough for him until he begins fucking you.

“n-no.” you admit, spreading your legs a little wider. sure, you'd prefer to be a little wetter, but if rafe is taking things slowly and gently you should have enough time to open up.

“exactly.” rafe says, letting out an exasperated sigh. “im gonna fuck you now and i don't want to hear you complaining.”

that's when you know you're really in trouble. rafes nice streak is done as he lays himself over your body, not bothering to hold himself up and dropping his full weight onto you.

“rafe!” you squeal out as his cock pushes against your entrance, hesitating for just a beat before he's pushing into you.

to rafes credit, he holds back somewhat. waits just a moment before he begins his punishing strokes, so hard and fast your head is instantly spinning.

rafes hands grip the same bruises on your hips, deepening them again, turning them into darker spots for everyone to see next time you don a swimsuit.

“mine.” rafe growls out, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips that's all teeth and tongue.

you let out a cry when he bites your bottom lip and gives it a tug, but the rush goes straight to your traitorous pussy.

you can feel your wetness growing as he fucks you, your walls becoming slicker and easier to move against.

“that's it.” rafe praises you. “can feel how much you like this.”

you want rafe to stop teasing you, it's bad enough he's abusing your pussy, he doesn't need to add to it with his words too, but even as your hands come up to cover face, he continues.

“my little slut. bet you can cum from just my cock. won't even have to touch your dirty clit to have you gushing around me.”

you know he's right. you can feel your orgasm building despite wanting to beg rafe to slow down, feeling the near painful stretch inside of you and the soreness growing exponentially as he fucks your already hurt pussy.

“soon you're gonna always be ready for me. ill rip your panties off and you'll already be soaked. and the best part is-” rafe is grunting as he talks, his fantasy expanding as his cock pummels you. “you won't even mean to. it'll be your bodies response to my body. trying to protect itself, make it easier, cause less pain.”

“and it will be better for both of us then. you just need to adjust to this, baby.” rafes voice moves to an almost sweet tone, so close to comforting if it wasn't for the fact that he's taking you raw as he talks. “then ill be able to fuck you so easily. and as often as i want without having to worry about your little pussy hurting.”

“okay.” you whisper. you're not sure if you can form any more words, but it's satisfactory enough for rafe as he presses a kiss to your lips.

“gonna cum inside you real soon. gonna fill you up. think you can get pregnant for me baby? swell that little tummy up?”

“rafe.” you pout, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. “stop teasing.”

“aw come on, we both know you're on birth control.” rafe rolls his eyes, but it doesn't stop him from imagining claiming you, showing the world proof of your fucking, proof that you're his and only his.

“but one day ill get you off of it. if i can't convince you maybe ill just have to switch your pills out for placebos. you won't even know until your tummy starts to swell.”

“rafe!” your tone is harsh, and it doesn't go unpunished as rafes thrusts reach even deeper, so far inside of you that you're squirming to get away only for rafe to hold you down into the bed, the mattress squishing under your combined weight.

“gonna cum right into your cervix since you're being a brat.” you can feel when rafe presses against it, your eyes widening as your high suddenly breaks, wetness gushing around rafes cock just like he knew would happen.

your pussy clamps down on rafes cock, keeping him sucked in as he starts to cum, long spurts releasing into your cunt as rafes moans and curses fill the room, echoed with your quieter whines and gasps.

“how's your pussy feel now baby?” rafe asks.

“sore.” you pout, which rafe quickly kisses off your face as he pulls out.

“fine, won't fuck you anymore then since you always complain about it hurting.” rafe shrugs, feigning like he's getting out of bed when you grab his hand and pull him back to your side.

“no!” you say quickly before taking a breath and settling in next to rafe. “no, i never said that.”

“exactly.” rafe puts his arms around you, tugging you into his chest, keeping you close to him, right where he wants you always.

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envy-of-the-apple · 9 months ago

Text

Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name.

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place.

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now.

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client.

"Is everything alright?"

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke.

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired."

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited.

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics.

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention.

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice.

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps.

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face.

Nothing.

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next.

"I look forward to working with all of you."

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial.

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order.

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way.

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too.

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you.

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?"

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks."

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours.

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms.

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching.

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru.

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines.

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted.

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class.

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it.

"What?" Because you must have misheard him.

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official."

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours.

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop.

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine.

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore.

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

𖤓

It was something minuscule.

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always.

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey.

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her.

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out."

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life."

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger.

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru.

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help.

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that.

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break.

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing.

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator.

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!"

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle.

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you.

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him.

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that.

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him.

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back.

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down.

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it.

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares.

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything.

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend.

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg.

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open.

It's worse than anything you could think of.

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you?

This wasn't bullying.

This was abuse.

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired.

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

"Why?"

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group.

"Get lost."

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone.

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored.

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-"

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away.

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?"

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear.

"Anything, right?"

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek.

"Get on your knees."

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little.

"I-I-Gojo you-"

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?"

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru.

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk.

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him.

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh.

"Gojo I-"

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems."

You look down at the grass. Green, soft.

"Satoru."

His eyes flash in satisfaction.

"Open up, pretty girl."

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you.

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought.

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?"

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame.

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you.

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth.

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me."

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world.

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?"

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it.

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help.

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath.

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you."

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum.

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something."

You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him.

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair.

"My laptop...it's broken."

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it.

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you.

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his.

The sunset is pretty today.

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied.

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from.

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?"

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf.

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait."

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts.

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her.

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright.

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting."

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs.

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way.

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to.

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go.

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you.

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable.

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework.

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips.

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever.

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom.

"Thank-"

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me."

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself.

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too.

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him.

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons.

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?"

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment.

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken.

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours.

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now.

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action.

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone.

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can.

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch.

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you."

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock-

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing.

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you.

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?"

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again.

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust.

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper.

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl."

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar.

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious.

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him."

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock.

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch.

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need.

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt.

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration.

"I love you."

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh.

Fuck three weeks.

You needed to get out, now.

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there.

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours.

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out.

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there.

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room.

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction.

"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?"

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke.

The door shuts with a click.

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward.

You take one back. He puts his hands up.

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?"

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood.

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody.

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too.

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes.

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules."

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked.

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent.

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless.

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text."

His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake.

You go to move.

Satoru's faster.

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment.

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze.

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness.

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-"

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt.

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client.

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him.

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless.

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears.

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar."

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words.

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses.

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now."

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again.

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic.

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily.

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?"

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too.

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall.

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action.

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar.

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate.

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate.

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste.

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits.

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed.

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out.

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear.

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?"

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that.

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you."

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his.

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure.

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom.

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught.

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl."

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-"

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-"

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled.

"I'll make sure it takes this time too."

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea.

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb.

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine.

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness.

"I love you."

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran.

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me."

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given.

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation.

#yandere jjk #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru #reader insert #afab reader #bullying #harassment #forced relationship #tw: dubcon #tw:noncon

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