#i couldn’t find the artist for the credit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fushitoru · 2 months ago

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so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot

pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader

summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick.

you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is.

so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.

you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.

picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”

there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”

“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.

feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.

shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.

but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"

“you got a boyfriend?”

“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”

“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”

the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"

a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”

that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”

“so i know who i’m looking at.”

the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”

a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”

your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”

but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”

the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.

for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.”

“then gimme a show. follow what i say.”

“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?

“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.

“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”

you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.

“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.”

you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.

“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.

“fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”

“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!”

the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”

slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”

“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”

you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.

“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”

“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.”

the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”

“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”

as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.

you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”

“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”

“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.

“fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him.

you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”

he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back.

“you like my cock, baby?” he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”

“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s.

“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”

you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.”

you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down.

he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”

you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.

his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.

you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”

ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.

“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.

you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.

“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”

ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.

“ryo, where are you going?”

“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries.

“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?”

later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto

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runby2 · 2 years ago

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remembering the time abt 2 years ago i was in a small server of tight knit ppl and someone said they wanted to share some art but they couldn’t because they couldn’t find the owner of it for credit. like ,, sending it to friends was somehow the same as sending it to large numbers of strangers or reposting it claiming you somehow own it. ive been in many friend groups and usually it was normal to share art you find with a small group and say you’d have to find the artist later through reverse image search or trust the others to believe you weren’t a bad person or something for just,, sharing inspiration in passing conversation. so i explained i was sure it was okay if you just want to mention it in passing and share art inspiration you had with a small group of friends, even if you didn’t have the artist’s name immediately on hand. and oh my gosh i was fucking shunned from the group immediately and chastised for “supporting art theft” and it made me realize how,, weird,,, online friendships have become in fandom spaces specifically originated from tumblr. it was like everything had to be morally correct and perfect and NO ONE was cut any slack to just relax and talk like normal people so if youre in a “friend group server” or “fandom server” where you feel like you’re walking on eggshells like that for any reason, i want to tell you to please for the love of god find people who act like people. and please do not interact with perfectionists or people who deny the ability for you to have any differing opinion. that is the worst thing you can do to yourself.

#art

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purpleinksplash · 19 days ago

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Saw it posted by a random twitter acc but couldn’t find the artist’s name or profile! If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give proper credit ♡

#ダンダダン #dandadan #momokarun #ayase momo #ken takakura #dandadan fanart

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seonghwaddict · 5 months ago

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not just a distraction — park seonghwa

in which it’s too easy for the new literature professor to pick a favourite.

literature professor!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. fluff, angst. warnings. LEGAL teacher-student relationship, implies age-gap, an argument, suggestive, nickname (baby, angel, doll, princess). wc. 10.4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. this is my comeback yessss~ anyways, this is part 1 of 2 because the next part will have some… fun activities >:) i hope you guys enjoy this, i’m sorry for being so inactive for the past month but i have lots for you guys to look forward to! excuse any errors i did not proofread this.

listening to. training wheels, melanie martinez / angel, kali uchis.

masterlist.

the first class of the new literature course at your campus garnered the attention of quite a few of the students from the arts department.

there was, of course, a literature class that existed before that one, though a few students had been unhappy with it since the introduction of more contemporary works. the classic masterpieces, they thought (including you), should not be bunched together with colleen hoover.

with enough pressure, the faculty were able to introduce a new course; classic literature. the few students unhappy with the initial course switched into this course instead, delighted by the fact they were allowed to keep their previous credits. a completely new teacher had been hired too, stirring anticipation. all you knew of him was his name, given in the description of the course when you signed up.

so you found yourself in one of the many lecture halls, around fifty others surrounding you. when you walked in, the new professor was at the long chalk board at the front, looking down at a book in his hand while the other wrote something down. you tried catching a glimpse of him, but his positioning faced him away.

but from what you could see, he was quite slender. his grey slacks, neatly ironed, were secured around his hips by a thin black leather belt. his white button up seemed a little large, though it complimented him well, tucked into his trousers with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms elegantly—his blazer, a grey matching his slacks, shucked off and placed around the back of the chair at his desk. you could also see his hair was dark, a slight waviness to it, a little longer in the back.

finding the most convenient seat, you chose to sit in the left-most seat on the second row, next to a girl you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of even if you tried.

you catch a glimpse of professor park glancing down at his watch, prompting you to do the same. nine in the morning, on the dot.

“literature,” he starts, underlining the bold word on the chalkboard before turning around. and you nearly choke at the sight of his face.

he’s handsome, almost impossibly so, and a lot younger than all your other professores. dainty glasses sit atop the bridge of his nose, carefully placed strands of his hair framining his face as he begins pacing in front of the seats, making sure to look at each students individually.

“it’s many things, but at its core, it’s all about the manipulation of language. language, simply put, is food, nourishing literature. and so, with the intricacies of the art, literature becomes one of the sweetest passions known to man. because what is it if not love and hatred and disgust and every indescribable feeling thrown into a melting pot of prose.”

his voice is captivating, making you feel just a little lightheaded as you listen to his passion intently, all precise words and confidence as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back. you’re hanging off his every word, watching as he stops by his desk to place down the chalk.

it isn’t after a few moments that you realise you were admiring his hand, how it moves to elegantly. the way his fingers gently curl around the little white stick is almost artistic in itself.

he turns around, resting his hips against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed over his chest. his eyes scan the room as he continues speaking, occasionally locking with yours. “is it not poetic? how morphemes, for example, or adjectives or conjunctions are the morsels of literature, small parts that are put together to create meaning? of course, something may be described in one word, but there’s something quite magical about being more metaphorical, more intimate.”

he catches you leaning forward in your chair slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips at how captivated you look before he schools his expression. but his focus is quickly redirected when another student raises his hand.

“yes?” professor park pushes himself off the desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

“professor,” he begins—you recognise him as a jock that calls himself dylan, but you know it’s not his real name and he’s probably here to fulfil a requirement to keep him on the volleyball team—his tone incredulous, “don’t you think all this romanticisation of literature is a bit dramatic? we don’t need fancy words to describe everything.”

professor park arches his eyebrow, a soft huff escaping his nose as he took steps in the direction of dyland’s seat. “dramatic? perhaps,” he nodded, eyes fixed on him, “however, as a literature professor, i enjoy the romanticisation of it. my job is to introduce others to the passion that is literature, and therefore i will romanticise it all i wish… what is your name?”

“it’s, uh, dylan?”

his eyebrow quirked once more as he gave the jock a once over, evaluating him. “i see… well, dylan, have you ever felt the rush of emotion when reading something truly spectacular? have you ever read a sentence and felt it like a punch in your chest or a sudden breath of fresh air?”

dylan’s opens his mouth to respond before he is interrupted with a raise if professor park’s palm. “think before you answer, please.”

you nearly laughed at his baffled look, never having seen him so silent, pondering the question for a moment before answering. “well, yes i have.” he answers honestly, earning a nod of approval.

“describe that feeling for me. can you find the correct words to explain the way you felt in that moment?”

dylan tries to explain it the best he can, but your teacher only shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “close, but no. see, it’s difficult putting into words such strong emotions no matter how many synonyms of ‘joyful’ you use.”

he turns away from him to address the rest of the class. “and that is the beauty of literature—it can be used to describe the most indescribable feeling, stringing together individually meaningless words to create something so much more.”

you smile at that, enjoying the link he made. your eyes meet for another moment, a split second that made heat rise to your cheeks under his perceptive gaze. but you blink and his pretty brown eyes are gone.

he takes a moment’s pause, glancing over at the clock in the room before finally addressing the rest of the class again. “i want an assignment from each of you by next class that demonstrates the true beauty of the language we know. it can be anything you feel like writing. a short story, a narrative, an essay, a poem,” his eyes flick over to land on you once again, “i want to see the feeling you want to convey in this written form. and i don’t just mean the happy feelings—get raw and descriptive. write something from the heart.”

the class is dismissed and you pack up your things, heading out but not before trying to catch another glimpse of him in the moving horde of students.

though you hadn’t noticed it, throughout the lecture his eyes lingered on you as well. of course, there were so many students for him to focus on, but none of them seemed quite as captivated as you. judging by the evident fascination on your face as he spoke, he knew you understood every word he said. unlike dylan, apparently.

the next class is on friday, four days away. you take that time or write the assignment. instead of writing a story or a poem, you decide on writing an essay. something where you can really write without the constraints of sticking to a plot. when you’re not in any of your other classes, you’re at your shared house, writing. and if your roommate is being too loud, you take the short bike ride to campus, sitting in your usual corner in the library, also writing.

by the time friday comes around, it’s ready and you’re happy with it, confident in your works as you walk into the lecture hall between some other students. you follow them as they stop at his desk, placing their papers on a stack of other turned in assignments, following suit before sitting at the same seat as last time; far left, second row. this time there’s more people sat at the front, whispering and giggling as they gaze at the professor.

he’s sat at his desk, a similar suit to last like on except a beige colour. his glasses are off and placed on the wooden desk, a book partially obscuring his face as he reads and waits for it to be nine on the dot.

he can vaguely hear the students talking amongst themselves as he reads, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind. it was normal. a lot of his students found him attractive, and that was clear just by the way they talked while he was around. after a while, he glances up at the time, noting it was almost time for class to begin.

he closes his book, setting it off to the side before standing up behind the desk. his hands clasp behind his back.

he glances around the room as more students trickle in and take their seats. he notices you at the second row almost immediately, and he can’t help the small smile that crosses his face. he lets his eyes roam over you for a second before he looks away, noticing the other students chattering in their seats. he clears his throat, loud enough to make them stop and look at him.

“good morning, class.” he says loudly, glancing around once more before resuming, “i’ll be looking over your assignments after class, but for today i’d alike to talk about some literary devices. i know this is classic literature and you’re all expecting to be reading classics, but some groundwork should be set before we jump into analyses. for example, can anyone tell me what a hyperbole is? any guesses?”

he scans the room, as if challenging one of the students to answer. the students in the class are quiet, no one wanting to take the challenge. he hums after a couple minutes and walks around to the front of the desk to lean against the edge of it.

“no one? how about you,” he suddenly says, nodding to you.

you blink, taken aback by the fact he chose you in the sea of fifty-something students. after clearing your throat, you simply say, “an exaggeration, sir.”

he gives a small nod of approval, a smile accompanying it. he expected you to know it, one of the most basic terms in the subject, but could he really be blamed if he just wanted to hear your lovely voice?

“that’s correct. a hyperbole is an exaggeration. it’s also a useful tool in literature to convey specific emotions. i’m sure you’ve come across sentences such as... ‘i could kill him’ or ‘i can’t believe it. this assignment was a literal death sentence.’” he adds the last part in a joking manner, and the few students in the room who were paying attention let out a quiet bout of snickers. he gives you one last small smile before moving on.

he spends the rest of the lesson talking about all sorts of techniques used to enhance literature and the effects they have on the readers. sibilance creates a smooth flow and double entendres are often used to amuse the reader.

nearing the end of the class, he instructs everyone to start on their reading of “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde while he starts going through the turned in assignments. you pull out the book, having borrowed it from the library the other day. you’ve read it before, but it was entertaining enough for you to be willing to read it again, leaning back in your seat comfortably as you flip to the first page.

professor park gets through the first couple of assignments, grading them and adding comments here and there. he finds your essay on the third assignment, and glances up to look at you sitting at your seat, reading so serenely. he takes the time to look you over for a moment before his focus turns to your paper in his hand. he can’t help the slight curiosity as to what you have written, so he begins reading.

he can tell from the quality of the writing alone what kind of writer you were. not like the others, you weren’t rushing with each sentence. no, each word was well thought out, each word placed delicately in the paragraph. it was obvious you had taken the time to write it, and it was obvious that you enjoyed writing even before he finishes reading the introduction. there is passion in the way you laid out your paragraphs. the way it seems so effortless for such words to spill onto your pages.

he finds himself rereading some of the sentences and paragraphs, just to see the way you had worded things. the way you describe how literature can make a person feel could be compared to a piece of art itself. a smile tugs at his lips as he finished reading, having become completely entranced in what you had written. he wanted more, he wanted to read even more of your writing, see more of your passion, more of you. he had expected to have to read through mindless writing but instead he had been surprised by something actually worthwhile.

at the end, he writes a decently-sized comment, a perfect grade circled in his black ink right below.

as he dismisses the class, it takes you a moment to register his words and the people filing out of the hall around you. but once you do, you fold over the corner of the page you’re on and start packing away your items.

as the class is now empty, the only person left in the room besides himself is you. he watches from behind the desk as you pack up your things, noticing the slight hesitation in your movements when you glance towards him. he takes a moment to just watch you before speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

“stay a moment, if you don’t mind.”

you glance up at him before looking around, making sure he was speaking to you before you nod, taking the steps down from the second row to the first, standing at the end of the seats expectantly.

he picks up something from his desk before making his way over to you, his long legs carrying him effortlessly.

he studies your face for a moment, holding up the stapled stack of papers that were your essay. he takes in your features as he speaks, his tone softer now that you’re alone, “you enjoy literature, i take it?”

you glance at the papers before meeting his eyes again, heat rising to your face at the realisation that his full attention was on you. that he was standing so close, just a step away, looking down at you ever so slightly. you give him a nod.

he hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes looking at your face curiously. he can see the flush of your cheeks clearly, the way you’re keeping your gaze averted from his for the most part.

he glances down at the paper in his hand, tapping it against his fingers gently before looking back at you.

“your assignment. i read it,” he starts, flipping through the pages absentmindedly to keep him from staring at you too long, “it’s quite well written, and i can see the care you put into the language of it. i enjoyed reading it.”

he watches as your eyes queen ever so slightly, a certain sparkle that does not go unnoticed by him; can see the gears turning in your head as you take in his words, your face growing to an endearing mix of shy and embarrassed. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, couldn’t describe it in any way other than a bloom of warmth in his chest, akin to familiarity.

“oh, thank you, sir.” you smile at him lightly, having been worried you were in trouble and about to be in the receiving end of his scolding.

he hums again, still looking at your face. he can’t help the slight grin that forms on his face as he hears you call him ‘sir.’ he liked the sound of it coming from you. he glances down at the paper again before speaking again, holding the stack out to you.

“i should be thanking you, really. you seem to be the only one to have put some effort into it,” he gave you a soft smile before nodding towards the door, “you may go now, i’ll see you next class.”

you smile and nod, giving him a slight bow before straightening up again. “have a nice day, sir.” and with that you leave, making a beeline to leave campus since you didn’t have anything else to do for the day.

the next time you see him is on monday, in class. he teaches as usual, introducing some context for the book you’re all supposed to be reading. he doesn’t talk to you during the class, though occasionally his eyes find yours and you can’t help but think they soften ever so slightly.

soon enough, you pick up on the fact that you have a similar routine on wednesday evenings. usually, you stay in the campus library for a little longer on those days, whether it’s to read or to work. you like it then because there’s usually barely anyone there, the library big enough for the students that are there to disperse out of each other’s views.

you notice him on your way in, talking to the librarian with a stack of three or four books on the counter. but sometimes you’d see him at a table or couch, or browsing through the shelves. and each time you smile at the sight of him before making your way straight to the second floor, ducking between some bookshelves on the far end to sit in your usual seat.

this may be your favourite spot on campus, maybe the whole city. a little sofa tucked against a big window, two bookshelves—historical fiction—on either side hiding you from the prying eyes of your peers. at this time, the sunlight is just right, a copper glow feeding the two little plants on the windowsill and providing a warmth that felt like a blanket on a cold winter day. it wasn’t too bright, able to look outside without squinting your eyes, enough light to read comfortably. there’s also a little round table that you use to place your laptop on if you need to work, though often you push it aside, favouring to relax on the plush sofa against the soft pillow and get lost in the pages of whatever book you got your hands on.

he’s noticed you there before, on his way to pick up a book from the bibliography section, right next to the historical fiction section where you resided. he soon comes to notice your form among the bookshelves that he passes by, doing a double take before he forces himself to continue along his way. when he finishes the bibliography exactly a week later, he offers to bring it back to its previous spot; in reality, he just wanted to see whether or not you’d be there again.

and sure enough, you were. and he slows down in his movements, looking at the way you’re curled up comfortably in the sofa.

he finds himself watching you silently from a distance for a while, just watching you flip to the next page in your book as you lay comfortably against the pillow, to absorbed in the story to notice him. you look completely at ease there, he finds himself thinking. the sunlight from the window seems to caress your features softly, and a part of him wondered what it would be like to be the sunlight for once, to touch your skin so softly and admire the details of it.

he watches you for a while, taking in your expressions as you turn the pages, before deciding to make his presence known. he takes a step, his leather shoes clunking against the polished wooden floors, “mind if i join you?”

your eyes dart up at the sound of his voice, flinching as you were caught off guard. once his words process, you offer him a smile, nodding as you retract your feet from the sofa to make some space for him. “yeah, of course, professor.”

he smiles warmly at your reply, settling into the newly available space on the sofa. now sitting, he realizes just how small the space is. it’s a two seater, so he ends up sitting very close to you, his side pressed right up to the armrest to prevent from being pressed against you. he glances at your face, noting the small reaction you had when you weren’t expecting him to approach. cute.

he leans back a little to get comfortable on the sofa. it’s quiet between them for a moment, both of them looking outside or at their books. the silence isn’t awkward, he finds. in fact, he quite enjoyed it in such proximity to you. he turns his gaze to watch your face, studying you; the curve of your nose, your lips that are pulled into a frown ever so slightly as you concentrate. his gaze then flicks down, to your sweatpants-clad legs tucked under you on the sofa, and lower to the hand holding the book.

you sit together in silence for a while, reading your respective books. you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at him occasionally, however, just wanting to catch a glimpse of his soft hair or perfect plump lips or the slope of his neck.

but when the sun go too low and the lights too dim and you could barely keep your eyes open, you let out a soft yawn, stretching. he glances up, opening his mouth to say something before his throat suddenly feel to dry to produce any words, distracted by the arch of your back and the curves of your hips. you look so inviting.

“tired?” he manages to force out with a slight chuckle, watching you slump back into your seat. he has the urge to brush away the stray hairs that fall over your cheeks.

you glance at him, nodding as you pull yourself off the couch for one last stretch before gathering your stuff and facing him. “i should probably head home,” you mutter.

“alright,” he pushes himself off the couch, closing his book, “i’ll walk you out.”

too tired to argue and insist he didn’t have to, you just nod, turning on your heels to walk out of the shelves, waiting at the end for him. the walk is silent, holding your breath and heart thumping in your chest each time his fingers brush against the back of your hand as you walk side by side.

this became a new routine. every wednesday, you’d find him or he’d find you, sitting in the little brown leather couch. and you’d stay there together for a while, talking or laughing or working or reading. there was no longer an awkward space separating the two of you, happily resting against each other, far from worried that anyone would see.

neither of you mentioned it, but it was the elephant in the room. you didn’t know what to call it, whatever was happening between you. but it felt good, it made you want to cling to his shirt and bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go. but you couldn’t, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

and as the lines between professor and student blurred, you found yourself looking forward to your wednesdays with him.

and so did he. still, he often thought about how he behaved around you, like it was a secret meant for him and you and you and him.

the way he would find himself sitting closer and closer to you. the way he’d find his gaze lingering on you for too long. the way his mind would wander on how it would feel to run his fingers through your hair, trails them along your thighs. oh, how badly he wants to feel your skin against his own. the idea of what he was doing was dangerous, foolish for someone of his position.

but it’s hard to care when you’re right there next to him, in the soft light that makes your skin glow, your face relaxed and content as you read beside him.

one particular friday evening, it’s pouring, and you’re standing outside under where the roof of the humanities building entrance protruded, protecting me from the rain. this morning you had decided to walk to school instead taking the bike, though you suppose it wouldn’t have been much better with a bike.

your shoes are already wet from the puddle you had accidentally stepped into on your way out, your clothes soaked from having walked into the rain for a minutes as you hug your messenger bag close to your chest.

he’s on his way to his car when he spots you standing by the doorway, and he frowns as he notices you, soaked from the rain that pours mercilessly. he glances around, noticing the lack of anyone nearby thanks to the weather, before making his way towards you.

he stops a few steps in front of you, opening his umbrella to block the rain above both of you. "what are you doing standing out in the rain?"

“i walked to school this morning,” you look from him to the pouring rain, just a step away, “didn’t check the weather.”

he takes you in for a moment, taking in the way your clothes are sticking to you, your hair slightly damp. a small part of him found it quite adorable to see you like this.

"you’re soaked," he says, his voice firm and concerned, "you’re going to get sick like this." as if on cue, a shiver racks through your body. he notices, his expression softening as he takes a step closer, offering his free hand. “come on, i’ll drive you home.”

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you smile at him, grateful at his offer, worried about getting his car wet with your clothes, “i can just wait here until the rain stops.”

his eyes narrow slightly, taking your wrist lightly. "don’t be ridiculous," he scolds, "you’ll freeze to death if i leave you here."

you blink at him, not used to being on the receiving end of his firm tone. his concern making the corners of your lips tug up, you sighed softly, nodding, “alright, lead the way.”

a small smirk pulls at his lips as he watches you relent, giving in to his words. he steps to your side, releasing your wrist and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the parking lot.

he pulls a tissue from his pocket, unfolding it and using it to gently pat your face. you giggle softly at his attempts to dry your face, reaching one of your hands up to take the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against each other before you dry your face yourself, your other hand helping him hold the umbrella in the strong wind, hand a little lower than his on the handle.

he looks at you with a small smile as his hand rests on the umbrella’s handle, moving to cover yours. his hand is a little bigger and warmer than yours. but as he guides you further towards the parking lot, he notices you shivering again, the cold air starting to get to you.

"if you get a cold, it’s your fault." he teases slightly, pulling you closer to his side, making you stumble a little before you regain your footing.

“oh no, i won’t be able to attend your 9 am lecture on monday, whatever will i do?” you gasp dramatically, holding back a laugh as you joke around, instinctively glancing around in case anyone saw. but everyone was gone, rushing home in the midst of the downpour.

he lets out a low laugh at your dramatic response, rolling his eyes playfully at you.

"stop that," he chastises, his hand on your waist keeping you from falling. it was hard to miss the nervous looks your threw around, and he knew exactly why.

“hm?” you glance up at him as he stops in front of what you assume is his car. it’s a black mercedes, sleek and modern. you clasp your hands behind your back, tilting your head, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

he pushes open the passenger door of his car, gesturing for you to get in. he shakes his head slightly with a scoff, his gaze raking down your figure for just a moment.

“sure you don’t,” he says in a slightly teasing tone, “just get in the car, angel.”

you blush lightly at the nickname but shake your thoughts away, looking down at the leather passengers seat before looking up at him again “but i’ll get your seat wet and mess it up.”

it takes him a moment to process your words, distracted by how the flush of your cheeks makes you look even lovelier. the thought that he was able to make you blush like that because of a simple nickname makes him bite back a giddy smile.

he shakes his head. “i’ll take my chances. just get in, you’re shivering.”

you don’t move for a moment, weighing your options; get his seat a little wet, or walk in the rain. deciding the former is obviously the better choice, you thank him silently as you slip into the passenger seat, securing your seatbelt after resting your bag in your lap

he shuts the door behind you and circles the car, walking to the driver’s side. his steps are a little rushed, eager to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the car.

he gets in the car, pulling the door shut behind him before he looks over at you. you sit quietly, your head down and hands in your lap.

it’s silent for a brief moment before he speaks up. “i’m gonna need your address, you know.”

“oh, right.” you hum, leaning forward to the screen on the dashboard to type in your address. it takes some effort, your muscles mostly focused on your legs as you try not to seat my full weight in an attempt to not ruin his seat despite what he said earlier.

he says absolutely nothing, his gaze glued to the arch of your back. he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he keeps his eyes trained on you, fighting the urge to reach a hand and touch you.

he clears his throat, “just lean back into the seat.”

before you can protest, he’s pushing down on your thigh until you’re fully seated. you give him a playful glare as you finish typing the address. it’s just over a five-minute drive, while walking in this weather would’ve taken you nearly twenty.

he looks at you with a chuckle, his hand still on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he jokes, giving your thigh a tap before pulling his hand away, turning the ignition on and pulling out of the parking space.

the drive to your place is quiet except for the sound of the rain outside. he has the heat on full blast to keep you warm. every now and then he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

the heat makes you shudder, holding your fingers up to the air to warm them up a bit.

he can’t help as his mind thinks of how cute you look, all bundled up with your bag in your lap. and the urge to touch you, god, the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“we’re almost there, don’t worry,” he mutters as he tears his gaze away from you.

“hey, um,” you start after a few moments of silence, glancing at him, “if you want, you can come up and we could have some coffee or tea or something together. if my roommate doesn’t mind, which she probably won’t, she’s really nice so i wouldn’t worry. but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! i just, uh, wanna thank you properly… for this.”

he watches with a fond smile as you ramble, stopping at a red light. he’s about to accept the offer, tell you that he’d love to, but the realisation of your roommate being there changes things, his expression turning solemn.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea…” he mumbles, avoiding your piercing eyes.

your brows furrow ever so slightly, a frown threatening to override your features. “why not?”

he swallows, pulling over in front of the address you had typed into the gps.

“i’m your professor,” he starts, his tone firm, “it would be unprofessional if we’re caught.”

he hopes you can’t notice the way he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

“that hasn’t stopped you so far, though,” you muse, chuckling lightly despite your confusion of his suddenly change in sentiments, trying to ease the tension.

“but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that we’ve been sitting together in the library every week, completely hidden away?” he mutters, “if someone saw us, someone who didn’t know, it would look bad. this could be worse.”

“i thought you liked being there with me…” his words get to you this time, actually frowning as you turn to look out the window instead of at him, noticing you were in front of your house.

shit.

he mentally berates himself upon noticing the slight change in your expression, realizing with a pang of guilt that his words bothered you, having come out the wrong way.

“oh, angel,” he starts, letting go of the steering wheel. his hand reaches for you, and before he can stop himself, it’s cradling your face.

“i do. i like being with you there,” he sighs, gently pulling your face to make you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you have no idea how much i enjoy it.”

his touch on your face feels warm, and his words even warmer as his directs you to look at him. you don’t say anything.

he’s not used to this, to you being quiet and still. he’s too used to your carefree self being full of jokes and laughter. he doesn’t like you like this, looking at him with disappointment written on your face.

“what i meant is,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb moving across your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his, “i’m just worried about your roommate.”

“i like spending time with you, princess,” he continues, his tone firmer this time, “i like it a lot, alright?”

your frown eases at his words, nodding as you answer in a whisper, “okay.”

he lets out a small sigh of relief, his fingers tracing down from your chin to the side of your neck, and then your collarbone. he gently caresses your skin with the lightest of touch, letting the pad of his fingertip graze your skin.

he tries to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to tug you across the console and kiss you. he shouldn’t.

he shakes himself out of his thoughts, pulling his hand away reluctantly. glancing out the window, he sees your place right in front of him.

“we’re here,” he murmurs, looking back at you. his gaze softens when he sees the remnants of the frown still on your face, and his hand gently reaches out to give your thigh a light squeeze.

“come on,” he says quietly, “let’s go.”

you look out the window before nodding, unbuckling and stepping out, walking to your front door as he accompanies you with an umbrella. you rummage around in your bag, trying to find the keys. groaning as you realise you were in such a rush this morning you must’ve forgotten them in the bowl where you and your roommate place your keys so you don’t lose them. with a sigh, you ring the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.

but she never comes. and that’s when you realise she had the late shift at work today. you groan, frustrated as you thump your forehead against the wooden door.

great, he thinks to himself as he watches you struggle trying to get inside. and then you turn around, with a frustrated sigh, and a thump of the door.

he can’t help but feel like the world is against him. the universe wants to punish him, to test his limits.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you and listening to you as you mutter about your locked door.

“i don’t have my keys, my roommate isn’t home,” you explain, kicking the door light before burying your face in your hands, your voice a little muffled, “oh, i’m so sorry, hwa.”

he stands there, watching you explain your situation, and he fights back a smile at your last sentence.

hwa*.*

he likes it when you call him that. spending three months growing closer, you’ve evidently given each other little nicknames.

he glances over at the parked car behind him, before back at you. “do you need a place to stay?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral again.

“i don’t wanna bother you too much,” you shake your head, running your hands over your face “please, i can just wait here for her to get back.”

he doesn’t like how you’re trying to push him away. frowning, watching you as you shake your head and run your hands over your face in defeat. he closes the distance between you, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your hand away from your face gently.

“it’s pouring,” he reminds you, “your clothes are soaking wet. and you think you can just sit here on the front porch until your roommate comes back?”

“i don’t want to inconvenience you any more,” you murmur, your hands relaxing as he pulls your wrists away from your face.

his chest tightens at your words, at how stubborn you’re being. he sighs.

“you’re not inconveniencing me,” he insists, “i’d feel better knowing you’re inside with dry clothes and a warm drink than out here soaked to the bone.”

you contemplate his offer for a moment before sighing, nodding, “okay, if you insist.”

his heart nearly skips a beat at your agreement, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly show the relief that washes over him.

he tightens his hold on your wrist for a moment, before gently guiding you back to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you get in before he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

he starts the ignition again, the warm air blasting through the vents yet again. you hold your hands in front of the hot air again, glancing over as you hear his door open and close as he slips. “in is it a long drive?”

he lets out a scoff, looking over to you with a teasing smile. “it’s a whole two minute drive. i’ll try not to bore you too much.”

he turns back to the window, pulling out of the parking spot. the rain starts again, and the sound of it pounds against window before he turns on the wipers.

“oh dear me, i can already feel myself falling asleep,” you slump your head back and pretend to snore, back to being playful.

he turns to look at you, watching your dramatics with a fond grin. “shut up, you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your side gently.

you giggle as he pinches your side, opening your eyes again to look out the window, watching buildings and cars glide past as he drives smoothly. true to his word, just a few minutes later he’s pulling into the underground parking lot of an apartment building.

he parks in front of a spot numbered ‘407’, cutting the ignition as soon as he does.

he glances at you briefly before nodding almost to himself.

“come on,” he says with a jerk of his chin, gesturing for you to follow as he gets out of the car.

his longer strides have him walking faster than usual, and it takes him a conscious effort to slow down for you to keep up.

he presses the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors part within seconds. he steps into the elevator, holding the door open for you to enter.

it’s a silent ride up. his mind is racing, though he doesn’t show it outwardly. his hands are in his pocket, and he keeps his eyes trained on the blinking numbers signifying each floor.

the elevator dings and the doors open and he steps out without looking back to see if you’re following, striding down the hallway, making a turn to a door marked ‘407’.

he fishes for his keys in his pocket, pulling them out before unlocking and opening the door as you look around the empty hallway, your gaze lingering on the mass-produced paintings hanging on the wall that he knows can be seen on every other floor of this building.

the apartment is spacious, with plenty of open floor space for the front room. the color scheme is simple and neat, with a large armchair and a small couch that sits in front of a flat screen tv, as well as a wooden coffee table.

he steps in, taking a moment to kick his shoes off and set his stuff down. he looks over his shoulder, watching you step into the apartment as he places his umbrella in the umbrella rack and hangs up his coat.

you grimace as your shoes squelch when you step in, muttering apologies as you take them off and leave them outside of the door in the hallway instead, not wanting to mess up his flooring.

he raises an eyebrow, watching you as you leave your wet shoes in the hall. he’s about to say something when he’s interrupted by the sound of a small meow.

a ball of black fur appears at his feet, nuzzling against his ankle, and he smiles, scooping the cat into his arms without a word.

he scratches behind the cat's ears as it purrs in his arms, the sound of its soft mews filling the room. he can see a hint of confusion on your face, watching the cat with interest as he holds it, its front paws resting on his chest.

"his name is kuma," he explains, bringing the cat up to his face and letting it rub against his cheek.

you nearly melt at the sight, stepping into the house with wet socks as you coo at the cat, the front door falling shut behind you automatically. “i didn’t know you have a cat.”

he has to physically stop himself from grinning as you nearly swoon at the sight of his cat, covering up his smile with a cough. he shakes his head, lowering the cat gently to the floor. it runs over in your direction, nuzzling against your ankles much like it did to him moments ago, before disappearing down the hallway into the heart of the apartment.

"i got him a couple months back," he says, taking in the sight of your soaked clothes once more. he lets out a sigh, tilting his head toward the hall.

he glances down at your feet, eyeing your soaked socks, before looking back up to your face.

"you can shower if you'd like. I can lend you some clothes to change into," he says, pointing down the hall toward the bedroom.

“oh, yes please,” you nod, relieved that he offered instead of you having to ask.

he nods and starts down the hallway, motioning for you to follow him. as you follow, you look around. just like his car, the design of his apartment is sleek and modern, glowing in warmth as he uses a variety of floor lamps and shelf lamps to light up the interior instead of headache-inducing overhead lights. the furniture and walls are light in colour, a variety of whites and beiges.

it’s an open floor plan, the kitchen and living grouped together, separated by a counter island and some stools. the countertops of the kitchen have a glossy white finish, everything clean. a narrow hallway leads to some three doors, which you assume are his bedroom, a bathroom, and guest bedroom or office.

he stops first in front of a door, where the cat lies on the floor, tail flicking back and forth. he bends down to pet the cat briefly.

"that's the bathroom. the towels are in there. I'm just going to grab some clothes for you," he says, giving you a quick glance before striding away toward the bedroom.

your eyes follow him as he walks away, before letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of something furry wrapping around your ankle. looking down, you realise it’s kuma, giggling as you crouch down to pet him.

he returns a few moments later, taking a moment to watch as you play with his cat so nicely before clearing his throat, making you stand back up as he hands you the stack of clothes.

“feel free to use whatever you need in there,” he nods towards the bathroom door, “you can leave your clothes in the basket, i’ll put them in the laundry later.”

“thank you, hwa.” you grin at him, accepting the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you shower with warm water, relaxing every muscle in your body as you wash off the rain. without any other choices, you’re left to use his shampoo. it smells of him, a deep vanilla. when you finish, you dry off and change into the clothes he brought, using your own previous undergarments as he obviously didn’t have those on hand.

the clothes are quite large on you, hanging off your body as you tighten the string of the sweatpants. you pat your hair partially dry with the towel before tossing everything in the laundry basket, stepping out to go to the living room.

only to see he wasn’t there. shrugging, you figure he’ll return soon as you flop onto the couch, kuma coming to sit with you after a moment. you sprawl out a bit as you realise just how spacious the couch is, the cat padding all over your body, playing with the drawstrings of the hoodie he gave you before curling up on your stomach.

meanwhile, he’s in the shower of his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom attempting to get himself together, both physically and mentally. the water feels amazing on his skin as it beats down on him, and he tries to relax his muscles as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

but his mind keeps going back to you, and how you’re probably already in his living room.

wearing his clothes.

he sighs, leaning his head against the shower wall as he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind. he stands there for what feels like hours, letting the hot water hit his skin before shutting off the shower and stepping out. he dries himself off, quickly drying his hair enough so that it’s not dripping all over his floor before he getting in record time, pulling on an old pair of sweats and a loose black shirt.

he takes another deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he ruffles his damp hair. he starts to make his way toward the living room, hoping that you’re just as nervous as he is.

he turns the corner and enters the living room, nearly freezing in his place at the sight of you sitting on the couch with kuma. you look good. comfortable.

by the time he makes it back, you’d be kuma are no longer sitting calmly, practically rolling around on the couch as you try to get away from the playful punches of his paws. he feels his heart flutter at the sight and the sound of your laughter.

there’s just something about seeing you getting along with his cat that makes his heart nearly skip a beat. he silently watches from the hall for a moment, just gazing at the two of you playing together before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

you look up at the sound, grinning at him stupidly. you glance at his clothes, noting that he’s wearing comfortable clothes now rather than his usual suits. “oh, hey,�� you say between giggles as kuma continues to jump all over you.

his heart stutters at the sight of your grins and the sound of your giggles, at the joyful look on your face. he swallows, forcing his arms to cross over his chest to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you against him.

trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s having a hard time doing so, he walks over to the couch, standing at the end of the coffee table and looking down at you.

“seems like you’re having fun together,” he remarks with a slight nod towards kuma.

“uh huh,” you nod before squealing, covering your face as kuma’s paws swat against your cheek, attacking you, your stomach hurting from laughing.

he lets out a scoff, watching kuma pawing at you and your failed attempts to shield your face from the attacks. he can’t help but let a small smile settle on his face, his heart fluttering again at the sight of you two.

“he’s playing rough,” he comments with a smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside you.

you crawl over to his other side, hiding your face under his arms as kuma chases, “help me, hwa.”

his heart skips a beat as you hide under his arm, ducking away from the harmless kitten. he can’t help but laugh, finding the situation both endearing and adorable.

“I think you can handle kuma, doll,” he teases, grinning down at you as you continue to use him as a human shield.

“he’s a beast,” you try to sound serious, your voice muffled against his sleeve as kuma starts attacking him instead.

“he’s not that bad,” he teases, grabbing the cat by his little body and lifting him up in front of his face, “see? look at this face. he’s not even one bit menacing.”

“that’s the face of evil!” you exclaim, sitting up and placing the back of your hand on your forehead to fall into his lap dramatically, feigning death, my body draped over his thighs faced down.

he looks down at you as you go limp against him, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics.

“don’t be so dramatic,” he grins. he lets kuma go, watching as he climbs down your combined bodies to muzzle against your cheek before moving away to curl up in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. “i think he’s gonna end up liking you more than me.”

“good,” you hum, closing your eyes and relaxing in his lap, forearm under your chin so it doesn’t dig into his legs.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, resting his hand on your back and tracing down your spine, “very funny.”

you chuckle at his response, sighing softly, content where you are. in the privacy of his home, you’re not scared of being affectionate, especially not as his hand traces down to rest against the small of your back, eliciting a faint shudder.

his heart hammers in his chest as his hand trails further down to the back of your thigh, the feeling of your plump flesh beneath the fabric, under his touch igniting something in him. he has to remind himself to breathe, trying to control the rush of blood that is steadily flowing downward.

enjoying the feeling of his hand kneading the back of your thigh, you go a little silent before turning to look up at him, a question that’s been balancing on the top of my tongue for three months finally spilling out.

“hwa… what exactly are we? what is this?” you point between the two of you as you mutter the question.

his hand freezes the second he hears it. he’s been avoiding that question since the two of your really started seeing each other every wednesday months ago, but he knows he can’t anymore. not when it’s thrown straight at his face.

he takes a deep breath, avoiding your gaze for a moment. he lets the silence sit for a few more seconds as he considers his answer, then looks down at you.

“i don’t know,” he mutters, his hand moving to rest on your waist, “i’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“well, what is this to you then?” you ask softly, sitting up to be eye level with him, kneeling beside him.

the question sounds more demanding coming from you face to face, eye to eye, and his heart is beating fast enough that he fears you can hear it. he swallows, looking into your eyes.

“a distraction,” he mutters, his gaze flitting to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes, preparing his next words.

but before he can continue, you visibly deflate at his answer, sitting back as i nod. a distraction. “i see,” you tear your gaze away from him, getting up, making his hand drop from you, “i’m gonna go to bed, wheres the guest room?”

he feels his heart twist at the sight of you leaving his touch, a dejected look on your face.

he’s never seen you back off so quickly before. not like this. he watches you get up and stand over him, a step too far for him to reach for you agajn, his heart tightening in his chest.

“wait, doll-“ he starts, reaching out to take your hand.

“what? you said what you said.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, his tone firmer. he stands up from the couch, towering over you. he holds a hand out to you. “come here, please.”

“then how else could you possibly mean it,” you scoff lightly, eying his hand but not taking it.

“listen, doll,” he mutters, holding back a huff of frustration. “you can’t seriously think that I would call this a distraction,” he gestures between the two of you. “a distraction. you really think that you are just a distraction to me?”

“well is that not what you said?” you mutter, trying to prevent your lips from trembling as a lump latches itself onto your throat.

he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him. he can feel the tension in your body, and he hates it. he hates himself for causing it.

“you didn’t let me finish. i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, looking directly into your eyes, resting your hands in his chest. “you’re not just some random, meaningless distraction to me.”

your fingers flex slightly as he holds them up to his chest, right over his heart, “then tell me how you really feel about me if i’m not a distraction”

he looks into your eyes, holding onto your wrists firmly but gently, his thumbs rubbing against your skin, the inside of your wrists.

he’s never seen you like this before. this vulnerable and open in front of him. he can feel the tension in your body, the stiffness in your shoulders and the tightness in your jaw.

he wants to smooth out those frowning lines on your face, erase that look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“you’re more than just a distraction to me,” he mutters. “you’re an obsession. you’re all i think about, doll. i think about you constantly. i don’t know how else to describe it other than an obsession,” he continues, his voice getting softer as he speaks. “i can’t shake you. you’ve gotten in my head and you’ve been living in there rent free for months and you refuse to get out. even when i try to ignore you,” he lets out a scoff, looking into your eyes, “even when i pretend to ignore you, you’re still there. you don’t leave my mind.”

his heart races as the words spill out of his mouth, like there’s a dam bursting inside of him. the feelings that he’s been bottling up for months finally coming out, and he doesn’t want to stop, letting those words tumble out and onto you. he can see that you’re listening intently, that you’re listening intently as his grip on your wrists tightens, almost as if he’s scared that you’re going to run away from him.

“you’ve got me so distracted i can barely focus on anything that doesn’t involve you,” he admits in a low voice, glancing down at your wrists. “i can’t even teach my own goddamn class without thinking about you.”

you’re speechless, even as he finishes, staring up at him with wide dumbfounded eyes, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingertips just as how he feels yours under his as his thumbs continue to rub the inside of your wrists.

you suppose you can always rely on a literature professor for an extravagant, dramatic confession.

he continues to hold onto you. he’s never seen you this speechless and dumbfounded before, and he’s torn between how good it feels to see you like this and how bad it things could go now that his feelings were out.

he swallows, looking down at your wrists. he can feel your pulse point under his thumb. “say something, angel,” he murmurs, a pleading tone in his voice.

instead, you pull your hands out of his grip to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down, placing your lips against his urgently, your eyes falling shut.

his heart hammers in his chest as he kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him, his fingers curling into your hoodie. he wants to kiss you forever, wants to make up for all those months of holding back, but his lungs are burning from the lack of air and he’s forced to pull away to breathe.

he lets out a sigh, his forehead falling to the crown of your head. his hands stay on you, still holding you against him. he can still feel your heart racing against his chest.

“that was your idea of saying something?”

“uh huh,” you hum, chuckling softly as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, mind full of him. seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.

he closes his eyes as he feels your fingers, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp. he still has his arms around you, unwilling to let go yet. he leans down just enough to press a kiss to your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

“but seriously,” you snicker, pulling away from him a little “i am kinda tired, wheres the guest bed?”

he almost lets out a whine when you pull away from him, opening his eyes reluctantly. he looks down at you, a frown on his face.

“you’re really gonna go sleep by yourself?” he mutters, an almost petulant tone in his voice as he quirks his brow.

“is that not what i’m supposed to do?“

“you really think i’m going to let you sleep alone after… that? come on now, you’re not that dense.”

“i know, i just wanted you to say it,” you giggle after a moment, grinning up at him as you lean down to scoop up kuma from the couch.

he lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile of his own. he reaches out and ruffles your hair, letting out a scoff. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you just said you’re obsessed with me,” you shrug, kissing his cheek as his hand find the small of your back, leading you don’t the hallway, “where does the kitty sleep?”

he looks down at kuma, still curled up in your arms, practically purring himself to death. “baby, he’s a cat. he’ll sleep wherever he wants.”

you snort, setting him down on a little armchair in the corner of his room, next to some bookshelves stacked with books upon books, and more books. you lean down to pet him a few more times as seonghwa watches you with a fond smile.

he watches you as he sits on the bed, his heart clenching at how good you look in his bedroom. it feels almost surreal, having you here in his home. he pats the spot next to him.

“get over here, baby.”

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

#cromernet #wonderlandnet #cultofdionysusnet #pirateeznet #atzhouse #ateez x reader #ateez #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa headcanons #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagines #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez fluff

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genderless-naper · 1 month ago

Text

sweet words

trafalgar law x gf!reader

sfw, fluff!

warnings: some mention of blood

wc: 1.5k, lowercase intended!

law never expected for his words to have a strong effect on you. he decides to use them to his advantage when you’re refusing to listen.

⇣ credits to the original artist

you and law still have a lot to learn about each other. granted you both have only recently decided to put a label on. you knew you both liked each other, but being asked to be with his felt like it took an eternity. nonetheless you two were ecstatic to finally be official after beating around the bush for months.

before making it official, law only really knew one side to you. that was the side that was meant for friends. he believed he would now see a different side of you, especially since he was more than just a friend. to his surprise he never saw a change in your behavior. you remained the same as when you both were friends. he found it strange, but in the end he decided not to press you about it. you probably will once you’re more comfortable. right? plus, he wasn’t one to talk much either. in fact, he seemed more refined than you had been since getting together.

he found you amusing, particularly your ability to refuse anyone's nonsense. your boldness and confidence made you stand out in these endless seas. with your bounty arguably high he often times found you handling rival pirates and their attacks with ease. you made it difficult for law to focus on his own battles. as worried he could be he still trusted you to not do anything rash.

unforeseen circumstances would soon cause that to change. worried crew- members rushed around the submarine to find law. one they found him, their words tumbling over one another in a chaotic attempt to communicate.

law felt uneasy when the mention of your name arose, “everyone be quiet. only one of you needs to speak so i can actually hear something.”

the crew looked at each other quietly until penguin cleared his throat, “y/n was keeping these pirate hunters away a-and…”

law felt a sudden heaviness form in his chest, “and what..? what happened to her?”

penguin kept his eyes glued to the ground, “she’s with bepo.. she was b-bleeding a lot…”

without a second thought law swiftly created the hand signals to activate his room and shambles. he moved himself to the land the submarine was docked next to.

he took in his surrounding, and saw bepo’s white fur l sitting down with back facing law’s direction. he made his was over to the bear without a second thought. his breath hitched as he saw you on the ground in a bruised and slightly bloody mess. law couldn’t tell if the majority of the fluid was your blood or of the pirate hunters. he dropped to his knees next to the bear to check your pulse. a sigh of relief parted from him as he felt the slow but steady beat against his finger tips.

bepo held you tight while tears trickled down his face, “i told her to be c-careful! now shes gonna die!”

you opened your eyes slowly and let a frail laugh out, “c’mon now.. i’m not gonna die from some stupid pirate hunters?”

law couldn’t conceal the relief that flushed over him, “you’re okay y/n-ya… don’t ever do something so reckless. especially without informing me first”

you sat up slowly and fixed yourself, “i was fine until their stupid devil fruit user. i should’ve knocked him into the water while i still had the chance.” you wince in your attempt to sit up. you held your pained side instinctively.

law spotted your pain immediately since his eyes were focused in your every movement, “i need to treat you y/n.”

you shook your head. you didn’t want to be perceived as weak. it would damage the strong front you’ve built for yourself. law knew you wouldn’t give in so easily, but your strong facade was the least of his concerns. he wouldn’t risk leaving you untreated.

you stood up from your seated position next to bepo. you ignored the minks protests and concerns. law watched as you swayed, struggling to keep your balance, until you ultimately fell back to the ground.

you hadn’t noticed you were falling to the ground until law reached out to grab you. he stayed in his seating position. and helped you to lay back down while resting your head on his lap. every fragile breath you took amplified the tattooed man’s concerns.

he moved strands of hair from your face, and carefully wiped as much dirt off as he could. he knew the only way to get you to listen was to talk you into it. he held your eye contact and spoke clearly, “i know you don’t want to y/n-ya, but you need to hear me out. you need to let me make sure you’re okay because you did so great protecting the submarine”

you looked up through your lashes and spoke tiredly, “i did great..?”

law hums lowly, “you did it better than i could’ve ever asked for. thank you for giving it your all baby.” he took one of your hands in his in order to hold it. never once breaking eye contact.

law didn’t expect for his words to work so well. he continued to use them to his advantage, “you did so amazing so in return im gonna make sure you’re well.”

your once smile broke off quickly, “i don’t need a check-up law! i’m fine!” you sit back up slowly, and turn your back to face him.

law knew he had to use his words more efficiently, “i know you dont think you need one, but it would mean a lot to me if you let me help you y/n.”

he recognized your walls faltering slowly. he helped you to stand then used his devil fruit to move you both inside the submarine. he helped you into the examination table while making sure to send his supportive words your way.

uneasiness was still painted on your face as he talked you into doing his basic checkup routine. as he was in the process of cleaning and covering your cuts he spoke out to you, “i know this is the last thing you want to do be doing, but i just want you to know that you’re doing great. it’s gonna be over soon.”

a slight blush crept to your face, “you really think so?”

law looks up from his task and flashes a small smile, “i really do think so. im proud of you for doing something you would rather want to avoid. this is better than just being physically strong sweetheart.”

he started to put away his supplies, and continue to look over the tests he had done. law had left the conversation to quiet down so his focused attention on his work.

you watched the man in front of you do all that he could to make sure you were feeling better. you broke the quiet as you spoke in a hushed tone, “could you say that again..?”

law looked up from his papers with a confused expression. the recent conversation had already left his mind, “say what?”

you cleared your throat, “what you called me just now.”

law recalled the conversation to find your reference, “the only thing i called you was sweetheart?”

your eyes lit up when he repeated it, “yeah that!” your tone went back hushed, “can you call me that again..?”

the man put away the remainder of equipment as he smirked. he stood in front of your seated figure, and put both his palms in the table next to your hips, “why should i? do you like when i call you that sweetheart?”

you kept your head down to hide your reddened face, “kinda…”

law wasn’t quite satisfied with your answer. he tilted your chin up to look at him, “yes or no y/n. do you want me to keep calling you sweetheart? does that make you happy?”

you couldn’t disguise the affect law’s words had on you. he had never talked to you this way, and you never expected to like these reassuring expressions, yet here you were with a pleading look to be told more.

you nod slowly trying to piece together a proper response, “i guess it does make me happy. it makes me feel warm and comforted..”

law chuckled at your response, “well i’m proud of you for telling me that you like it. i’ll use my words more often if its what pleases you darling. tell me what else you want to be called.”

your smile was increasing in appearance, “i don’t really know. i just know that i like it when you call me that.”

law chuckles again at your honesty, “its okay if you don’t know right now. we can always test and see what you enjoy hearing sweetheart. you just have to make sure you tell me when you do. can you promise to me that you will baby?”

you nodded fast at his proposal, “i promise i will”

he saw your growing smile that hinted at being please with his offer. although you were both new to the relationship, you knew that as time passed, you would discover more about each other and reveal different sides of yourselves. each moment together would promise deepened connections. this would make the journey of getting to know one another all the more exciting.

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lovexdeepspace · 9 months ago

Note

hi! can you pls do an alternative version of the breakup of the l&ds men?? instead of making up and forgiving them, reader just flat out rejects them and kicks them out or reader has found someone new and the boys get a taste of their own medicine??

also love your work!!

“life without you.” (v2)

summary; once your trust is broken, there’s nothing xavier, zayne, or rafayel can do to undo the damage they’ve done.

warnings; angst, sadness, heartbreak

note; as much as i — along with others — needed a happy ending to the original post, the itch to do this was in the back of my head and i’m glad others wanted it too! ( credit to @neverlandlostchild for helping me immensely with this idea, i am so so grateful towards them and @noclue-0 for advocating for this idea alongside anon!! )

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

part 1 | happier ending

༊*·˚ . xavier

curled up on the couch with remote in hand, you were absentmindedly scrolling through movies when there was a loud knock at your door.

food’s finally here, you thought excitedly while kicking the blanket off your legs. you grabbed your wallet and fished out a ten to tip the driver before heading to the door.

“thank you so — much.”

the last word fell flat as you opened the door only to find xavier standing there. he looked at you with half-lidded, tired eyes and a tight-lipped grimace as you took in the shell of a man standing before you.

his clothes were wrinkled and stained; his hair was messy and it was evident he hadn’t showered in at least a couple of days. his cheeks were red and tear-stained and you couldn’t help but think that he looked downright pitiful.

“xavier, what’re you doing here?” you asked, pocketing the money before crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought i made myself clear.”

the blonde rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “i know but i just couldn’t get you off my mind. i miss you and what we had.”

you raised a brow at him. “things with her didn’t work out?”

“she doesn’t matter,” xavier retorted with a frown. he stepped closer to you and you stepped back just as fast. “you’re all that matters to me and —”

he stopped as a voice behind you called your name and, a moment later, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. you felt your face flush as sylus pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“food’s here?” he asked you as his eyes moved from you to xavier. noticing the lack of food and the subdued yet very evident fury in xavier’s eyes, he quickly added, “guess not.”

“i’m —” xavier started but you held up a hand to cut him off.

“i think it’s best if you left, xavier,” you interrupted, leaning back against sylus. “we’re trying to have a relaxing evening.”

xavier faltered, giving you an incredulous stare before nodding slowly. “right. i guess i’ll leave, then.”

you gave him an unenthusiastic half-wave and shut the door in his face, leaving him alone in the hallway of your apartment building.

he felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes as he heard you and sylus laughing about something behind the closed door before forcing himself to walk away.

༊*·˚ . rafayel

with the days finally getting warmer you refused to stay holed up in your apartment all the time, often opting for outings to the park for some fresh air.

on a particularly fateful day, you were standing in the shade of a beautiful cherry blossom tree, admiring the picnic you had set up so perfectly. with your hands on your hips you racked your mental checklist, making sure everything was set out and ready for your —

“well, well, long time no see.”

shit.

pinching the bridge of your nose, you didn’t even bother to look over your shoulder as you addressed rafayel with a dull, “what do you want?”

rafayel clicked his tongue, sidling up to you. “aww, c’mon, that’s no way to treat your favorite artist.”

“you say that as if you have any right to be my favorite anything,” you retorted, side-eyeing him with a frown. he was watching you with that usual cocky grin but you could tell time had not been the kindest to him — dark circles under his eyes, unkempt hair, and this awful odor that made you gag as he moved closer.

“about that,” he muttered, trying (and failing) to put on that usual innocent guise that would’ve had a more naive version of you falling head over heels, “it’s been a while since i’ve last seen you. i’ve changed, i promise. i’ll be a better —”

“you won’t be anything, not to me at least,” you snapped, stepping away from him. “go run back to whatever her name is, since you wanted her so bad. i’m waiting for someone and don’t need you scaring them away looking like a lost puppy.”

rafayel staggered backwards at your harsh words, his demeanor changing as the idea of you seeing someone else really sunk in.

“who are you —”

“ah, fuck.”

rafayel’s jaw clenched as he slowly turned, eyes ablaze as they settled on thomas. his manager offered a sheepish grin before quickly heading to your side, muttering an apology to you.

“i can’t believe this,” the artist hissed, looking between the two of you. you shrugged nonchalantly and drove the point further by placing your hand in thomas’, slotting your fingers between his. “you - and you —!!”

“you made your choice,” you said plainly. “now, would you please leave? i’d like to enjoy my afternoon.”

rafayel gaped at you before muttering something under his breath, turning on his heel and storming away. the last thing he needed was for you to see the way tears had started to form in his eyes or the ugly sobbing that came seconds later as soon as he was out of sight.

༊*·˚ . zayne

you had finally found some balance in your life, a rarity that you held onto desperately. things had finally calmed down months after your breakup with zayne and you had bounced back in ways you didn’t even imagine.

hell, you even found yourself putting yourself out there and — with your newfound confidence — things were going really well for you!

so well, in fact, that you were sitting in the destiny cafè with a book in hand while you waited for your partner to return with your order. so captivated by the text, you didn’t look up when the chair across from you was once again occupied. it was only when the occupant said your name did you grimace and take a mental note of the page number before closing the book and setting it down in front of you.

“gods i do not have the energy to talk to you right now,” you said bluntly, putting your head in your hands. “or ever, for that matter.”

“well, hello to you as well,” zayne replied, sitting up straighter in his chair as you took your hands away to glare at him. “you look beautiful.”

“i know,” you deadpanned. giving him a once-over, you can’t see much difference from the last time you saw him save for the fact he looks more sleep deprived than usual. “now, let me be direct: i don’t want to talk to you.”

zayne sighed. “fine, but i need to talk to —”

he was cut off by the soft thunk! of two mugs being firmly set down on the table.

“here you are, pipsqueak.” caleb slid one mug in your direction with a sweet smile then turned to zayne. his expression quickly became menacing hidden behind a fake smile. “i’d say it’s nice to see you again, zayne, but i’m about three seconds from punching your face in. get out of my seat and leave my partner alone.”

zayne’s jaw clenched as he looked from caleb to you. “i just need to talk to them.”

caleb laughed and leaned in a little the smile dropping from his face. “you don’t need to do anything, zayne. so how about you get out of my seat and go yap to that girl you were getting all handsy with, hm?”

the air was thick and you could only watch with a smirk as zayne stood and quickly exited the cafè. caleb reclaimed his seat and reached across the table to give your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“you okay?” he asked, grabbing his mug with his other hand and taking a sip.

you nodded and squeezed his hand in return. “better now.”

#love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel #lads xavier #lads rafayel #xavier #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne #xavier x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace

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yaut-jaknowit · 19 days ago

Note

I really love "The Wrong Secret to Hold". Can I request the yautja in that fic ? He and reader are just enjoying their day and reader is an artist and Ahtaal(?) is very intrigued of readers creativity.

An Artist's Touch

Character: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Summary: As an artist, a talent not many Yautjas possess, you are seen commodity like no other. There are few humans on Yautja Prime. Let one's that are under the empress's protection. Being different, you strayed away from the palace with her permission to stay in a town far in the world. Ahtaal's town. He's intrigued to see someone make something out of nothing.

Author Note: This is what I wish my life to be. I want to be resting on Yautja Prime, sketch book in hand, and just enjoying the deadly nature. Gods, I wish!

Masterlist

Ao3

Underneath an awning that offered plenty of shade a pencil and sketch were hand. Despite the credits you hold, you’ve found a spot within a tribe that resides in temperate area on Yautja Prime. It’s small. Less than fifty Yautjas are strewn across the territory, But it was perfect for yourself along the clan. They accepted you due to your talent.

Creating art. Murals painted on walls in important Yautjas houses. Including the empress all the way in Kov. She tried to offer you all the riches to stay at her palace. But, your wanted to explore, see the planet from a deep, inside look. Being inside the empress’s palace, practically trapped, offered you none of that. A city filled with Yautjas. What you wanted to see was the outside world. How they hunt, how they think. It made the murals you created come to life.

A morning dew softened the air that would soon turn hot. This area was considered temperate to them. To a human, it was far too hot for you to stand directly in the sunlight. The suns themselves would turn your skin red in less than five minutes. A planet that wasn’t meant your kind. That didn’t stop you from being out in a designated spot that had been crafted just for you.

The thatch on top plenty thick to prevent a single strand of sunlight from slipping through. You were sitting on a plush bean bag like chair. It was soft and body conforming. The furs used to cover it came from a creature you couldn’t even try to say the name. But their fur was so soft, it felt like being on a cloud. You enjoyed the calmness that floated through the air. The sketch book and pencil in your hand is all you needed for the morning.

Nearly silent footfalls had you picking up your head and finding a familiar red figure walking into the shade. A bright smile graced your features. “Ahtaal,” you greeted. The strong male strolled up to the foot of the plush seat you’ve taken and gazed down at you. “What do I owe to be graced with your presence?”

After picking a tribe to live with, Ahtaal had made a blood oath to the empress to ensure your safety. Though humans and Yautjas are an uncommon sight to see, you were one of the very few to be allowed to live freely. There were no ifs, ands, or buts to your presences amongst the Yautjas. Your talented hands ensured you had a place. The empress gracing you sanctum anywhere on the planet. Here you choose to be, of all places. But the face of Ahtaal was one you’d never pass up on.

The lumbering giant squats down in front of you and peers over the edge of the book. “I see you working away on another project,” he explained, eyes curiously running over the sketch you’ve started. Another commission for an ancient somewhere on the planet. Maybe she was up north? You let the book fall flat on your lap. Your artwork wasn’t something you hid, let alone from him.

The sketch book is turned around to face Ahtaal. “Yep, someone up north I think commissioned me. Got some more credits in the pockets.” Even as someone protected by the empress, you still liked to work for your own money. There was plenty you had since you had little to spend it on. No clothes, food, shelter, or supplies. It was just there so when anyone commissioned you, they could pay for your work. Though, gifts were another way for them pay you. There are a few trinkets you enjoyed happily every since you got them.

Carefully, Ahtaal ran just the side of his sharp claw over the pages. He traced over some of the darker, more permanent lines that marked what you truly had in mind. A deep hum rumbled from his throat. The male focused on what you’ve created on paper. A talent he will never possess, no matter how many times you egg him in.

“What do they ask for?” he questioned and brought his bright eyes up to yours. The contrast was stark. Calm, soft verses fierce, predatory. He wished there was a way to capture the beautiful color of your irises and color it somewhere in his dwelling.

The way they brightened at the question. “That snarly beast that reminds me of a carnivore looking horse that lives near the north pole.” The hairs on your arm raised at the thought of the creature. It was beyond ugly and terrifying at the same time. It looked completely unnatural when you try to give it a logical look to it with earth creatures in mind.

Ahtaal snorted, mandibles twitching with a few slow nods. Then, his gaze drops back down to the sketch book. The pages were nearly full. A constant thing for yourself.

For such an advanced species… their entertainment was limited to mainly hunting. As a human that can’t participate in such a thing, you have limited ways of filling the time. You wield pencils, not swords.

“Is this your last sketch book?” Ahtaal was responsible for your wellbeing. That includes taking care of all needs and wants under the order of the empress. But, it wasn’t only just because he was under oath.

The hand on your book lifted off. A sharp, black ended talon tipped your chin back up to meet his intense stare. You licked at your suddenly dry lips and swallowed hard. You felt mushy. “I-uh…” you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah, it is.” Your heart stuttered in your chest while gazing into his eyes. If only you could look into them all day.

“Then, I shall go get more when time permits. I cannot have my little ooman without paper to draw on,” he grunted. The back of his shiny claw was dragged across your jawline, all the way up to your ear. With a swipe, it left your skin. More goosebumps rose across the skin on your arms. “Will you survive until tomorrow for me to get more?”

Your throat was dry. His words had soared over your head. All you were able to focus on was his gentle, mind consuming touch. You melted.

When you found your voice, you speak in a tiny voice. “Yeah.” How could one person reduce you to a school girl in front of her crush? You gnawed on your bottom lip and pulled on the skin harshly. Blood painted your tastebuds.

Red finger grasped your chin and lightly jerked down on it. “Don’t,” he warned and stopped you from mutilating your lip again. You licked at the new wound, unable to look away from his eyes. Ahtaal swipes over the moisten skin with his thumb. You weren’t able to stop yourself from licking at the deadly, pointed claw that tipped the end of his finger.

All the muscles in his body tensed up in the same manner as your own. You couldn’t believe you had just done that. It had only been a thought. Yet, apparently, your body had a different thought of its own.

At first, your mouth opened and closed. Your brain couldn’t figure out a way to make up an excuse for the stupidity you had just pulled. “Shit, I-I didn’t… Fuck, why did I do that?” you whined to yourself and pulled away.

Except, Ahtaal tightened his grip on your chin and tugged you in closer. Your lips were parted, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Stars sparkling in them. Something changed within his gaze. A darker, heavier tint to the usually light colored irises.

“You… play a dangerous game, little ooman,” he growled out and emphasized his point by tugging you an inch closer to him. The warmth of his breath fanned over your face. “And I don’t know if you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You wettened your lips again. A habit hard to break. His eyes darted down to watch the action then seemed to soften. Like a whine was on the tip of his tongue.

Everything he said… Your heart continued to thunder loudly in its cavern. You swallowed hard and raised a hand to just touch at the column of his throat. The scales soft under your touch. A vulnerable place for any creature. Ahtaal lets you freely run your finger pads from his jaw down the front to where his collarbones meet.

The texture of his scales weren’t like anything you’ve felt before. Tough in a fight. You let your dull nails to trace a pattern through the spaces of the scales. Your hand continuously moving even if the two of your don’t look away.

“And what if… I do know,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. The surrounding space didn’t need to listen in on your conversation. “What if I want to play this game?”

A deep bellow vibrated throughout his chest. The tone so low you felt it more than heard it. You whimpered. Goosebumps covered your forearms. His eyes darkened. “Are you sure? Are you willing to let me have that power?” To hand over your power to him is a huge sign of trust. Let alone to someone who wasn’t event he same species.

“Yes,” is all you needed to say. Ahtaal towered over you, body leaning over your curled up form. His hand had shifted down to your fragile throat. Just enough pressure, just a flick of wrist and you would be nothing but a memory. Your eyes drifted close. Everything you were doing made the Yautja go wild. Every sign of submission to him. You, someone of high talent, was allowing to take that power from you.

Ahtaal growled from the back of his throat. His thumb ran along the pulse point on your throat, feeling the way it rapidly fluttered just under the skin. “Such a delicate thing under my hand. You are letting me have this.” You only gave a subtle nod, not wanting to move too much. The moment was thick with tension yet soft like clouds. You didn’t want to break a thing.

“Oh little ooman,” he cooed in a husky voice. Your eyes gently open to find him still so close to you with a low whine. His hand drifted up to cup your cheek. The large, dark red male leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “Mine?”

More of a question rather than a statement.

A smile graced your features. “Yes.” An artist and their hunter.

He finds himself scooping you off of the lounge chair and up into his arms. A surprised yelp escapes you as you clung to his neck. The sketch book and pencil you once held fell to the ground with a subtle thump. Ahtaal takes your seat and sets you down in his lap. You glared at him with no real heat in your eyes then leaned over his knees to grab at your fallen supplies.

“Well, good sir, I could’ve moved all by myself you asked,” you huffed. One of your hands was able to pick up the items off of the ground. As you go to sit back up, Ahtaal hooks an arm around your midsection and pulls you flush with his chest. The things in your grasp nearly fall back to the ground. You whipped your head to the side and narrowed your eyes on him.

All he did was chuckle from deep within his chest. The tension in the air has passed now. The soft clouds were the only thing left in their wake.

His arm flexed around your torso and kept your lower back snug to his stomach. You could only wiggle without a chance of escape. “Ahtaal, at least let me get into a more comfortable position then this.” Ahtaal listened to you. You gave him a pointed look before twisting into a position that you were able to still draw in.

Only your butt was planted firmly in his lap. You lounged sideways and used the side of the cushion to keep yourself slightly upright. Just enough to have the book on your lower thighs and draw. You peer up at Ahtaal with a pointed look that turned into a soft smile. The expression on his face was at ease, relaxed, and gentle with the sight of you.

Ahtaal placed a hand on your knee and rubbed his thumb against your skin. “How’s this?” he purred in a tone that made you want to smack him. Somehow, you refrained from fulling such a thought. Instead, you scoffed and started back on the project in hand. Ahtaal watched an artist at work, amazed the way you create something out of nothing.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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raysrays · 3 months ago

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Fatal Attraction Chapter Five (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

*i said there probably wouldn’t be smut…but I lied lol. Just a warning this one’s more rough.

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference, Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the "Cryptid Rengoku" character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four,

Y/N Perspective.

I woke to the warmth of Kyojuro’s fur, his soft purrs reverberating in my ears as he slept. He was curled around me, his tail snugly wrapped around my waist, his clawed hands holding me close.

It felt like I was melting into his embrace.

But I couldn’t put this off any longer I had to talk to him about the journey. Time was slipping away, and I only had a few days to convince him to let me go.

I tried to slip out of his grasp, but he stirred, his tail tightening around my waist.

His red eyes snapped open, glowing with a stern intensity.

“Where are you going?” His voice was deeper now, as he was waking up.

I knew I had to tread carefully, Kyojuro could be incredibly stubborn. If I stayed calm, I might have a chance to sway him.

Gently, I stroked the fur between his ears, and he responded with a deep purr.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I said softly.

His ears perked slightly.

“What is it, my mate?” He opened his eyes fully, the red glow locking onto mine.

I took a deep breath, knowing this probably wouldn’t be an easy conversation.

“Tamayo wants to take me on a journey, to go northeast to continue hunting.”

I felt his claws dig slightly into my skin, a pinch of pain shooting through me.

“She thinks I could be of some use.”

His growls grew louder, the purrs vanishing. His expression darkened.

“You are not leaving me again.”

I swallowed hard, realizing this wasn’t going as I’d hoped. “Kyojuro, I understand why you don’t want me to go—”

His voice rose, cutting me off. “We had an agreement! You asked me to meet you halfway, and I did. Now you’re breaking our rules and changing your mind!”

His tail remained tightly coiled around me, his claws digging into my skin. His fur bristled, sharp teeth bared.

“The answer is no. You will not go anywhere. My decision is final.” He snarled, his clicking growing louder.

I knew he was angry, but he still held me close. Maybe there was still a chance to reason with him.

“I know I belong to you, Kyojuro. I would never betray that.”

His growl subsided slightly at my words, but his tail stayed tight around my waist, his claws still gripping my skin.

“Please, just hear me out. Surely we can find a way that works for both of us.”

Finally, his tail loosened its grip, and he released his hold on my skin. But I was still pressed against his chest, the tension between us palpable.

I knew I had to keep trying, to find a way that worked for both of us.

“I’m your mate, Kyojuro. I belong to you, but I can help too. I’m not weak—I can be useful to you.”

I saw the conflict in his eyes, a battle between his possessive instincts and the truth of my words.

He leaned in closer, his hot breath grazing my neck.

“You’ll stay with me and help in other ways,” he murmured.

His purrs resumed, low and soothing, and I knew I’d lost this round. But I wasn’t giving up—I’d find another way to convince him to let me go on this journey.

His claws trailed over my skin, gentle now, as he leaned down to kiss me. His purrs vibrated through my body as his hands roamed over me.

I’d let him have this victory, for now. But I’d find another way to sway him. For the moment, I’d wait.

But I needed to understand why. I knew Kyojuro was possessive, as most creatures like him were. It must be hard for him to think of his mate leaving. But I felt there was more to it.

I remembered how furious he’d been when I returned from the northern Territory of Sanemi Shinazugawa, smelling like him. It was the angriest I’d ever seen him.

Do the Hashira hate each other?

I knew they ruled different sectors of the region, but… is there tension between the nine strongest monsters?

It was a puzzle I hadn’t managed to piece together yet.

I reached up to stroke the fur on his face, his purrs growing louder at my touch. He nuzzled into my palm, and I wrapped my arm around his neck, holding him close.

“Is it because you’re worried about me, Kyojuro?” I asked softly. “Or is there another reason you don’t want me to go?”

His purrs stopped abruptly. He pulled back, his eyes narrowing.

A hint of curiosity flashed in his gaze.

“What are you implying, my little human?”

I kept my tone gentle, hoping to reassure him. “I’m just trying to understand. If we can see eye to eye, maybe we can find a solution.”

He looked away, his claws scraping the ground. Tension rippled through his shoulders, his tail twitching restlessly.

I scooted closer, running my hand over his chest.

He glanced down at me, his expression unreadable.

“Do you not realize? You’re my mate now. We’re bonded. Our scents are intertwined. If you step into another Hashira’s territory, they’ll smell me on you.”

He let the words sink in.

“And what would happen then?” I asked quietly.

His tail wrapped around my leg, drawing me closer.

“They’d try to harm the humans that strive to aid and support the opposing hashira. They’d see you as a threat.”

His seriousness, his worry, was palpable.

“Is that really how it works?” I asked, unease creeping into my voice.

Kyojuro nodded, his ear twitching. “While I may be on good terms with some, that’s not the case for everyone. That’s just how we operate.”

My stomach tightened, my heart racing.

He saw my expression change and leaned in closer, his voice softening.

“Do not worry, love. I won’t let anyone harm you. That’s why you can’t leave me.”

I reached up to touch his face, his fur soft beneath my fingers. He leaned into my touch, purring gently.

I knew he wanted to protect me, but I also knew I had to keep trying and stand my ground. I needed to convince him to let me go on this journey, no matter the risks.

I met his eyes, determined. “I understand that you want to protect me, Kyojuro. I appreciate that. But part of our agreement was that you’ll let me continue to work with Tamayo.”

He looked at me, surprise mingling with annoyance, but I pressed on.

“I’ll do what’s right, what I owe her. I promise to be careful, and I’ll return to you as soon as I can. Please, don’t make me choose between you and what’s right.”

I saw the conflict in his eyes again, the battle between his possessive instincts and his understanding of what I needed.

He leaned in closer, his purrs vibrating through me. His voice was deep and husky.

“I’ll think about it, my mate. But don’t expect me to say yes easily.”

Close enough, we are finally heading in the right direction.

——————-

I sat with Tamayo and Yushiro in the small meeting room at the base, reviewing the plans for our journey northeast.

It would just be the three of us, which I knew would make Kyojuro even less pleased. I needed to explain everything to him before we left.

But for now, I focused on the maps and routes spread out before me.

“Are we going to run into any problems here?” Yushiro asked, pointing to a cluster of water on the map.

Tamayo nodded. “If I’m right, this is the territory of the kraken hybrid, Giyu Tomioka. He’s a Hashira, but he’s not as violent or aggressive as Shinazugawa. If we encounter him, he should be manageable.”

Yushiro frowned. “Kraken hybrid? Won’t he just hide underwater until we’re gone?”

“No,” Tamayo replied, her tone assured. “If we arrive, he’ll likely be on the defensive. These creatures rarely hide from threats—they’d rather confront and scare them off. Even if he’s not as aggressive, he’ll still show himself.”

Yushiro crossed his arms, looking less than satisfied.

“What if he doesn’t show?” I asked, my voice cutting through the tension.

Tamayo met my gaze, a certainty in her eyes that was almost unsettling. “Oh, he will.”

Something about her confidence unnerved me. I knew Tamayo had been hunting monsters for years, but to my knowledge, she’d never captured one. So why was she so certain this time?

“There’s been too much activity in the woods lately,” she continued calmly. “Too many things that don’t add up. I know something’s happening out there.”

Kyojuro. She’s talking about Kyojuro.

A wave of paranoia washed over me. What if she finds out? What if she already knows? I can’t let her discover him. I won’t let them hurt him.

I have to warn him—he needs to stay away from this part of the woods.

Tamayo’s voice pulled me back to the present. “We need to be prepared for anything. We don’t know what we’ll find out there, and we can’t underestimate the power of these monsters.”

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. I’d make sure Kyojuro was safe. I wouldn’t let anything happen to him. I’d protect him, no matter what.

“We leave in two days,” Tamayo said briskly, signaling the end of the meeting. “Be ready.”

I rose from my seat, my heart pounding.

I needed to get to Kyojuro as soon as possible. I needed to warn him.

And then, I had to convince him to let me go on this journey.

I needed to get Tamayo away from here, to distract her from what was happening around us. Traveling would be a good diversion. If her focus was on a different monster, she’d lose interest in Kyojuro.

I’m going, no matter what. I won’t let Tamayo down, despite Kyojuro’s fears. I’m doing this for him too—to protect him from Tamayo’s suspicion.

I’ll keep him safe, just as he’s always promised to do for me. That’s what mates… what lovers do.

I just hope Kyojuro will see it the same way.

—————

To be honest, this constant back and forth between the base and the den is wearing thin. I dread pushing through the forest at night, but I suppose it gives me time to think about what I’m going to say.

Once I finally approached the den, something felt off. It was completely dark. Had Kyojuro gone to sleep already? He usually kept a fire lit until we were ready to rest.

A sense of unease began to creep in as I drew closer. My pulse quickened. Why does this feel so wrong? I hesitated at the entrance, peering into the pitch-black den, the faint moonlight barely penetrating the darkness.

Then, I heard it—a low growl, followed by the familiar clicking I’d come to recognize.

“Kyojuro?” I called out, my voice trembling slightly.

Silence. The air grew unnervingly still. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the sound of my own breath.

Just as I opened my mouth to call out again, a sudden gust of wind swept past me, and those glowing red eyes were suddenly inches from my face, piercing straight into my soul.

I thought my heart was going to give out right then and there.

His gaze locked onto mine, and I could see his sharp teeth gleaming in a predatory smile as the moonlight faintly illuminated his face. The clicking grew louder.

“There you are…” he purred, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I struggled to breathe; he was terrifying me—badly.

“K-Kyojuro? What are you doing? Is something wrong?—”

Before I could finish, his tail coiled around my wrists, pinning my hands above my head.

He lifted me off the ground effortlessly, suspending me by my wrists as he pulled me closer to the nest, keeping me in the air to meet his eyes.

“My mate still wishes to escape from me, I see…” he growled, amusement lacing his voice.

“Escape? No, it’s not like that!” I try to defend myself, my voice trembling.

He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it.

“You really think you can hide your true intentions from me?” His long tongue trails up my neck, and despite the fear, I can’t stop the blush that creeps over my face.

What is he doing?

“Oh, I’ve given your words from this morning plenty of thought,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “I think it’s safe to say I’ll try to compromise with you.”

“You will?” I ask, genuinely curious, hope flickering in my chest.

His grip on my wrists suddenly loosens, and I drop to the floor of the nest, staring up at him.

He looks down at me, still smiling, his eyes glowing with that same eerie light. But something feels different now—more intense, more dangerous.

“Since you insist on leaving me to venture into the territories of others, I’ve decided there’s only one way I’ll feel ‘comfortable’ letting you go,” he growled deeply. “I’m going to completely submerge you in my scent and thoroughly mark you as mine.”

My eyes widened as I instinctively tried to back away, still looking up at him.

“But… you said if the Hashira could smell me on you, they’d want to hurt me—that they’d see me as a threat,” I stammered, trying to make sense of his words despite the fear gnawing at me.

He stepped closer, matching my retreat with his advance.

“Yes, I did say that. And it’s true. But you’re not just any human—you’re my mate,” he continued, his tone dark and possessive. “For one Hashira to kill another’s mate could mean battle, war… all kinds of problems. So if you want to leave, you’ll have to go through the process.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes flashing a menacing red. “And you won’t complain.”

His voice dropped into a low, dangerous purr, and my heart fluttered with a mix of fear and something I didn’t want to name.

The clicking grew louder, reverberating through the ground beneath me. The very air seemed to hum with the force of his presence.

I was trapped, and he knew it. There was no escape.

My voice barely emerged, trembling. “You’re going to… mark me?”

His purr deepened, the clicking intensifying.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. “By the time I’m done, you’ll reek of me and only me.”

I felt consumed by him, completely overwhelmed. I was trapped beneath him, unable to move.

But I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to stay with him, to feel him fill me.

He leaned back, his glowing red eyes meeting my gaze. “Strip,” he growled, his eyes flashing with desire.

I hesitated, my heart pounding. But something in his gaze told me he wouldn’t let me say no.

I reached down, my hands trembled slightly as I removed my clothes. His eyes watched my every movement, his purrs growing louder.

Once I removed all my clothing he leaned in, and before I could react, he pounced, pinning me down on the nest.

His tail coiled around my legs, his claws sinking into my skin as he pressed his weight over me, holding me in place.

My heart raced, pounding in my ears. Was I scared? Absolutely. But I couldn’t deny the thrill that surged through me. This was Kyojuro—the creature who claimed me, body and soul.

He was my mate, my lover. And I was his, completely.

“I won’t let anyone else touch you, little human,” he murmured in my ear, his hot breath making my skin tingle. “Not while you wear my scent.”

As his claws dug deeper into my skin, I gasped as his teeth nipped at the side of my neck.

A shiver ran through me. And as I looked up into those glowing red eyes, I knew there was no going back now.

Whether I liked it or not. Whether I understood it or not.

Kyojuro Rengoku was mine, and I was his. Nothing would ever change that. Nothing could ever take him from me.

His teeth sank deeper into my neck, a sharp pain flaring to life as he bit me. I whimpered, struggling against him.

But he held me firm, his claws plunged

Into my arms, his tail wrapping tighter around me. His purr rumbled through my body, and the clicking grew louder, echoing in my ears.

He leaned back, releasing his hold on my neck. Blood trickled down my skin, but I couldn’t see it clearly in the darkness of the den.

He looked down at me, his expression fierce and feral.

“I need to mark you all over,” he growled, his eyes flashing with desire. “I need you to smell like me, so all know you’re mine.”

He lowered his mouth to my collarbone, his teeth sinking in. I cried out, struggling against him.

But he was relentless, biting and marking me all over my body. His tail tightened around my legs. It hurt, but I liked it.

I was trapped, helpless beneath him. And yet, I didn’t want to fight him.

He leaned up, meeting my gaze. “I hope my mate is prepared for me.” he growled, his eyes blazing with possessiveness. “Any monster that dare come into contact with you will know exactly who owns you.”

I felt my body respond, heat flooding between my legs. His scent, his purrs, his bites—it all combined to drive me crazy with lust.

I let out a light gasp as he flips me onto my stomach, grabbing my hips and positioning my ass out.

He leaned in, I could feel him leaning against my back. He was being rough, aggressive, demanding. He nipped at my nape, his purrs and clicks vibrating through my body.

I felt consumed by him, completely overwhelmed. He was everywhere, filling my senses.

I felt his cock harden against me, his purrs growing louder.

I shouldn’t be wanting this, I shouldn’t be okay with this monster man handling me and marking up my body. But I want him so badly.

He leaned in closer, his nose skimming my neck. “Mine,” he growled, his scent filling my senses.

His tail coiled around my legs, forcing them apart. His claws dug into my hips, holding me in place.

I felt his cock press against my entrance from behind, hard and thick. He leaned in closer, his purrs rumbling through my body.

“Be a good mate, and take all of it,” he growled, his voice thick with possession.

He finally thrust into me, his cock filling me completely. I cried out, my body stretching around him.

He let out an animalistic growl, his tail tightening around my legs so bright I knew it would leave bruises.

He leaned in closer, his mouth meeting my neck. He bit me again on the other side this time, his teeth sinking deep.

I moaned, arching up against him. His cock filled me perfectly, hitting all the right spots.

he growled, i could feel him nipping at my shoulders covering my back in spots as he fucked me. “My good mate knows how to take it, so perfect.” He praises me.

His praises only edge me on, making my eyes roll back slightly. God, it hurts so good.

His cock thrust into me faster now, the knot pushing against the entrance of my cunt.

I just know it’s going to make me feel so full.

He leaned in closer, he gets closer to my ear and whispers. “If Giyu Tomioka touches you, I’ll ensure you never have the strength to walk ever again.” He growls.

My eyes go wide once I feel his knot finally push inside me. I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me as it rubbed against my g-spot.

I moaned, and whimpered loudly. I couldn’t contain it.

His cock began to pulse inside me, his knot swelling to its full size. I felt a rush of pleasure, my body clenching around him.

I cried out, my body shaking with pleasure. His growls and clicks filled the air and rumbled through my body, as I came around him.

He leaned back, as he pistons into me at a rapid rate. My mind going blank.

His purrs grew louder, his scent overwhelming me. His cock pulsed inside me, filling me with his seed.

I moaned, and cried out as I felt him completely unload into me. My stomach starting to feel warm and uncomfortably full.

He kept me in this position his clawed hand on the center of my back keeping me arched in place until he emptied everything out it side of me.

I feel fucked out of my mind once again by him.

His cum filled me to the point I can feel it drip down my thighs. His purrs grow quiet as he slowly pulls out of me.

He then flips me onto my back and settles on top of me, to look at me.

I might not have been able to see very well due to the poor lighting, but I could see those glowing eyes and that wicked smile as he looked down at me like I was nothing but his prey.

He grabbed my face with one of his hands, he purrs seemingly satisfied, as he leaned in. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, little human.”

His claws traced over my arms, his purr growing softer. He leaned in to my ear, whispering, “If you’re going to continue to go against my wishes, I’m not going to be so gentle with you.”

He nuzzled me and kisses me with such gentleness, despite his rough behavior earlier.

“You’re mine, and I’m going to be damned if anyone ever tries to take that from me,” he whispered.

I nodded my head, my voice coming out weak and soft. “Yes, Kyojuro.” I whisper as he continues to purr.

He pulls back from me, his purrs growing softer. His tail slowly releases its hold on me, allowing my legs to close back up. He runs his hand down my thigh and my ass, his claws tracing over the sensitive skin. He nuzzles me, his purrs soft.

His purrs slowly died down, I felt him lay next to me, he pulls me close to him.

He’s crazy, but he makes me feel content, and protected despite everything. But now I’m completely exhausted from everything that happened tonight.

He leaned in nuzzled against my hair, his purrs and clicks finally dying down.

I fell asleep in his arms. Knowing that no matter what I was safe. And that soon I’d be traveling, and he’d be here, waiting for me to come back. But this time, I won’t be sick because I actually got his permission.

I’d be heading into the heart of the woods, and hopefully, I’d return in one piece.

Are all the Hashira this insane? I was always lead to believe Kyojuro Rengoku was one of the more tame ones, a kind gentle monster. I guess in some ways they got it right…

That’s the last thought that goes through my head before I fall asleep, surrounded by Kyojuro’s purrs. And his strong arms wrapped around me, protecting me. And his fur and body keeping me warm. His scent covering my entire body, claiming me as his.

I knew that no matter what happened on the journey with Tamayo, I was safe and cared for in his arms. And nothing can ever change that.

And so with that, I drifted off to sleep, with him next to me, my mate. My protector.

I think I’m genuinely starting to fall in love with him… Am I crazy?

Tags: @emmenic726 @i0love0tea @fandomenbylover

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