#it seems liking him is already out of the ordinary but i dont just like him

[gardenelfi]

wish more people liked my most specialest guy so i would maybe have a chance to feel comfortable to post the batshit cute stuff i made

[slowcinnamon]

let me love you

bangchan x f reader

words counted: 9927

warnings: alcohol use, public tension?, oral sex (f rec), fingering (f rec), unprotected sex (dont!!!), daddy kink (soft), praise kink, a bit of emotional manipulation?? softdom!chris - let me know if i forgot smthing plsss

genre: romance, angst n smut

summary: chris and you have been best friends for many years, slowly beginning to have feelings for each other but you two had never confessed it for fear of rejection, although you know how you both felt about each other. his birthday was almost there and you wanted it to buy a nice and original gift, so with all your savings, you ordered a silver necklace that you had completely designed.

author's note: hiiiiii!!! this is my first fic, hehe. constructive comments are accepted :P hope you like it !!! :3

ฅ/ᐠ˶> ﻌ<˶ᐟ\ฅ

At this point in your life, it was no longer a secret that you and Chris liked each other.

You two had been best friends for years, each slowly developing feelings for the other and, although you never confessed it because of each other's fears and problems, everyone knew it, even you both.

Neither of you had ever said anything to the boys, but they themselves quickly realized when your looks and moments together went from being sweet and innocent to having deep meanings; those intimate and intense looks, the too long touches or the way you had to be close to each other in all situations, even unconsciously.

You yourselves began to realize each other's feelings due to the constant teasing of the boys, the way you missed each other or the deeply sincere conversations that you always shared about your life or emotions although you was never completely honest with him because of your own fears and issues; fears based on not being enough for him and lacking everything he was. He was an idol and you were just an ordinary person. The issues of the constant comparison with the people around him, always telling yourself that he needed someone like him, someone from his world so that he wouldn't lower himself. You loved him, deeply, that's why you pushed him away every time you could.

Therefore, being his best friend and keeping things platonical already seemed enough to you and your feelings.

It had been a few hours since Chris's birthday had started and you were with Changbin and Hyunjin, the three of you waiting for the bartender to finish preparing your fourth mojito of the night. For the occasion, and after having Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin at your house for two hours discussing what you were going to wear, you decide to be totally faithful to your style.

"I don't know why I listen to you, honestly. I feel out of place with what I'm wearing" you murmur while once again, letting out a sigh while you continue resting your back on the bar counter and take another quick look at the huge room that Chris had reserved for his birthday, which was completely full with famous people in their expensive clothes.

"You're always exaggerating, there are plenty of people more dressed down than you," Changbin says as he takes a sip of his drink, also looking around the room. Changbin’s dresses in a black suit and Hyunjin has a white suit on, with a few buttons of his white dress shirt unbuttoned.

Hyunjin nods with a small mischievous smile, "Oh, yes. Look at that one..." while discreetly pointing his head at a girl who’s dressed in a red dress and yellow heels, he murmurs, then suppresses a giggle as he takes a quick sip of his drink, "She's the female version of the McDonald's clown." you nudge him gently, trying to suppress a laugh as you listen how Changbin can't contain himself and bursts into laughter along with Hyunjin.

Hyunjin's laugh begins to grow louder and he covers his mouth with his hand, almost choking on his drink as he watches the girl from afar. Changbin also laughs at Hyunjin laughing and pats his back, "S-stop it, bro. You're going to die from laughing." Hyunjin holds his chest before breathing a bit, "Oh God, I can't stand it. And she looks so happy in that dress."

You can't help but make a comment too, “Maybe she thought it was a costume party,” still suppressing a giggle and Changbin laughs again, this time, covering his mouth to avoid spitting out his drink.

Hyunjin nods and takes a big sip of his drink, trying to calm himself down, "The only thing that's missing is that she starts distributing hamburgers to everyone. That would be the cherry on top." he laughs after saying it and you two burst out laughing at Hyunjin's comment.

Changbin then pats Hyunjin's back again and lets out a sigh, "God, you're going to make me pee myself from laughing as hard as we are right now."

"I didn't know Chris had friends who cosplayed," you say again, unable to stop making comments while turning your back on the girl to start laughing.

Hyunjin and Changbin burst into laughter again, the tall one puts his drink down on the counter to keep himself from choking on it. When the two finally stop laughing, Hyunjin stands straight and leans against the bar counter again, taking a big sip of his drink before he speaks again, "At least we're not the only ones laughing, I saw Felix and Jeongin dying of laughter a few minutes ago."

Changbin chuckles and takes another sip of his drink, leaning casually against the bar counter as well, "I'd be concerned about Chris but he seems to be having the time of his life," he motions to glance over at Chris, who can be seen chatting and laughing with multiple people around the room.

You and Hyunjin follow Changbin's gaze, watching Chris seem to be enjoying himself. Your gaze stops to observe how he laughs, showing his dimples before you lower your gaze to his clothes, beginning to drool internally at seeing him once again in that black suit with a couple of buttons undone. But before you start to eat him with your eyes, the voice of the bar waiter tells you that your drink is ready, breaking you out of your trance and taking your gaze away from Chris to direct it to the waiter, thanking him before picking it up and carrying the straw to your lips to sip the mojito.

As you take a sip of your drink, you notice Hyunjin and Changbin sharing a knowing glance between the two of them before Hyunjin speaks once again, "So..." he begins, raising his eyebrow as he glances at you, "Have you given Chris his birthday gift yet?"

Changbin raises his eyebrows a bit and takes another sip of his drink, his eyes also on you as he silently listens to the conversation while Hyunjin waits for your response.

"No, not yet," you answer as you look at them a little excited, making both raise their eyebrows, then you gently bite your lower lip, leaving the drink on the countertop and looking back to where Chan is, "I wanted to give it to him earlier but it seems like he doesn't get tired of talking and talking and I don't want to cut him off." you look back at the boys to shrug, downplaying it, "I'll give it to him later." Hyunjin and Changbin's curiosity only grows more as they continue to look at you.

"You seem excited," Hyunjin teases with a smirk and Changbin nods as he smiles.

"Yeah, a little too excited.” he narrows his eyes, “What did you get him?"

“Uhm... I asked a jeweler to make a necklace I had designed for Chris a reality.” you murmur a little shyly, feeling your cheeks take on a slight pink tone and then pick up your drink and take a small sip, “So a personalized and... unique necklace in the world?”

Hyunjin and Changbin exchange a glance between themselves, both of them impressed at the amount of effort you put into Chris' present. In front of the intrigued looks of the boys, you decide to show them the gift before they start asking. You set the drink on the countertop and open your bag, pulling out a small black satin box, which you open to reveal its contents.

The necklace was made of silver with eight small stars, representing SKZ, on the sides and a cross similar to the Chrome Hearts' design in the middle but with the difference that in the middle of it, was a small black diamond.

You let Hyunjin's hands take the small box so the two of them could inspect the contents as they both stare down at the necklace, speechless and both impressed with how good the necklace looked.

"Damn, that's... beautiful. I didn't know you were putting so much effort into this."

Hyunjin nods in agreement, his eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Let me guess... was it expensive?"

“Kinda.”

"God, I knew you were going to do that." Changbin says as he shakes his head, "Of course you were going to spend all your savings on him.”

You roll your eyes as you gently shake your head and Hyunjin hands you back the box, which returns to your bag before you close it, "It's the first time I've bought something expensive from Chris. I'm a bit uneasy in case he gets all 'I don't want you to spend money on me' mood."

Hyunjin and Changbin both agree with you at the same time, "He's definitely going to do that," they both say, and you can't do anything but snort a bit as Changbin continues speaking, "That idiot doesn't like people spending a lot of money on him but he’ll put it on as soon as you give it to him," they both keep their eyes on you for a few more seconds before Changbin glances back at Chan and murmurs, “You’re never going to ask each other out, are you?"

You feel heat start to burn in your face as you hear Changbin's words, a small smile settling on your lips. Even though you had never confessed anything and both of you continued to silently suffer, you were well aware that the two boys knew about it. And that makes you feel a little embarrassed, because honestly, you hated having to talk about it and having to repeat the same answer over and over again. You hated their speeches about your emotions and the attempts to 'make you open your eyes'.

Deep down inside you knew that your actions only caused immense pain to Chan, who wanted to shower you in all his love and make you see that you were more than enough for him, but your fears had always controlled your life.

“Never,” you murmur in response while shaking your head and they both sigh as you leave the glass empty and you call the bartender's attention, "A vodka with lemon, please."

After your second glass of vodka with lemon, your senses began to become blurred. You had continued talking to Changbin and Hyunjin but you didn't remember a single thing that had come out of their mouths, just the way you kept giggling as you continued ordering drinks.

At some point, Chris stopped talking to the group and approached you, laughing at your jokes and enjoying the company and due to your state, you couldn’t help but begin to navigate towards the territory that you had forbidden yourself. The party was at its peak, with most people drinking and dancing while enjoying themselves, but you still hadn't given your gift to Chan.

Hyunjin was trying to explain a joke but between how he slurred his words and how he laughed while explaining it, no one understood him, you were just laughing at the scene. Changbin, who was the most sober of the group, watched the scene with a raised eyebrow while laughing until he saw how you and Chris were looking at each other while laughing and spoke when a comfortable silence fell among the group after the laughter, "Are you going to give him the gift or what?"

"Oh, yes, yes..." you murmur with your pinky cheeks due to alcohol. With slightly shaky hands, you open your bag for the second time that night, pulling out the small box and reaching your hand towards him so Chan could grab it.

"I hope you like it," you murmur excited and nervous, taking a quick look at his hands before focusing on his face.

His hand slowly reaches out, taking the box from your grasp as his eyes continue to stay focused on you, "You didn't have to-"

Changbin huffs from behind and interrupts his sentence, "Just open it, Chan."

He can feel your gaze staring at him which only causes his own body to become tense and his heart to palpitate a bit more than it already was and you chew on your lower lip nervously as your eyes watch him open the black box, his eyes almost widening a bit surprised as he processes the contents of said box.

"Holy shit..." he murmurs as he stares down at the silver necklace in complete awe, his eyes tracing every single little detail that was on the jewelry.

He delicately takes the necklace out of the box, almost handling it with the same care he would handle a newborn baby, examining it closely and you start to grow even more nervous. As he turns the necklace around, you feel even more anxious at the idea of him hating your gift and your breath gets stuck in your throat when he finally looks back at you with his doe eyes.

"You don't like it?" you speak quickly, making your words slur a little as you look at him totally embarrassed and take another step to take the necklace from his hands, "I-I can change it, you know? I can tell him th-"

"No, what? No" Chan's immediate response, quickly as yours, interrupts your thoughts and he tightens his grip on the necklace, not giving you the chance to take it from his grasp, “I do like it. I actually love it.”

Your body relaxes when you see how a small smile begins to widen on his mouth, perfectly showing his dimples as he once again stares down at the silver necklace in his grasp, making you let out a small sigh of relief. You know he's not lying when he says he loves it; his ears begin to turn crimson.

"I just..." he starts again as that smile he has on his face never falters, "I just wasn’t expecting this... How much did it cost you?”

"It doesn't matter" your response is immediate, noticing how a small frown creases Chris’ forehead as he begins to open his mouth again to probably start a monologue, but so before he can say anything, not wanting to hear him say the same thing over and over again, Hyunjin chimes in.

"Can I see it?" Hyunjin cuts him off before a word comes out of his mouth, leaning in to get a better view as he puts a hand on your shoulder, a silent and discreet way of saying 'I've got you' and Chan nodds. “Damn,” Hyunjin says, feigning surprise and looking at the small jewelry on Chan's grisp as if he hadn't seen it before, “I always knew you had a good taste. It looks cool.”

You smile a bit when you see him helping in the situation, but your attention then goes back to Chris, who continues to stare at the piece of jewelry in his hands with a frown on his mouth.

“I…" Chan starts again as he tightens his hold on the necklace a bit, almost as if someone could take it from him, "I really do love it... But you shouldn’t have-"

Again, Changbin steps between the interaction, “Yeah, yeah. Can’t people do anything without you lecturing them all the time, goddamnit?” his tone is a bit annoyed as he rolls his eyes at his friend, "She just wanted to pamper you for your birthday. Just accept the damn gift, Chris,” he lets out as he lightly slaps at the leader's shoulder and Chan lets out a sigh. You have to suppress a chuckle at the scene before you, knowing that Changbin was speaking for everyone with his words. Chris's grip relaxes on the jewel and his gaze returns to you, searching for words to appreciate the gift, he knows he should just be thankful but that feeling in his chest prevents him.

"Don't worry Chris, it's okay," you try to reassure with a small smile and your shoulder receives a squeeze from Hyunjin before he returns to his previous position, leaning on the bar. Chris raises his hand, his eyes flickering between it and your face, offering you the necklace as he asks, "Can you… can you help me put it on?" you nod.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his request as you took a step closer to him, and Chan’s heart practically leaped into his throat. Your hands carefully take the necklace from him and with slightly shaky fingers, you place the necklace around Chris’ neck; the cold metal of the necklace coming in contact with his skin and making him shiver slightly, making him hyper-aware of every movement, touch or breath. He can’t help but lean into your touch just a little bit, relishing in the feeling of the proximity of you and your face.

You fastened it and made sure it was sitting properly before moving it around his neck, making the necklace clasp stay at the back of his neck. But even though you have just closed the clasp, you stay where you were while you lower your hands to your sides; not separating yourself even a centimeter from him and he doesn’t dare to move or speak either.

Chris's cologne come directly in with every breath you took, along with that look in his eyes; that look that beggs you to let go for once and finally give in to your desires repressed for years made your mind go back to the fine line you have been avoiding all night when he returned to your side.

But as quickly as the moment came, as quickly it leaves when you hear Hyunjin’s whisper to Changbin, which has come out louder than he wanted.

You finally look away from his eyes, and Chris does the same, avoiding eye contact to try and hide how red his face and ears have become, causing an awkward silence to hang in the air. You turn to look at the guys, who look at you both with a clumsiness look in their eyes and Changbin glances at Hyunjin before grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the bar.

"I... I think we’re going to go find Han," Changbin quickly says, not wanting Hyunjin to disturb any longer between you and Chan and begins to move away from you, dragging the highest, "See you... later?" both you and Chris murmur a soft "yeah, see you later" as you watch the two boys leave, hearing a “good job, dumbass” from Changbin.

After the two boys leave, an uncomfortable silence fills the atmosphere around you and Chris. You can feel a lump in your chest, probably the alcohol mixed with your own emotions; your breath falters a small bit, and your heart pounds with a force you didn’t know you could feel, you feel your skin burn with desire.

With your eyes focusing on the floor in front of you, you bite your lower lips, the taste of vodka on your tongue. You know that you shouldn’t look up. You know that if you look up, you won’t be able to look away.

As if your head was on autopilot, you slowly lift your gaze, letting your eyes travel up to his face. The necklace was perfect on him, the silver contrasting perfectly with his skin and the black of his clothes. His eyes immediately turn to yours, as if he was already waiting, as if his focus had never left you. You feel your heartbeat get faster, your breathing labored as the alcohol running through your body makes everything more intense.

"Uhm... It looks good on you," is the first thing you think of saying to try to reduce the awkwardness. You try to look back at the necklace, at something other than his eyes, but you can't, feeling the alcohol take over every one of your senses, the sound of the people having fun in the background muffling, everything feeling distant, like if you were trapped in a bubble only the two of you can see. His own eyes are roaming all over your face too, the desire and hunger in them making your legs feel like jelly, as if he could take you right there.

"Yeah?” he murmurs in response, his voice slightly low, almost a soft caress that makes your senses go even crazier. He takes a small step towards you, invading your personal space without even caring, reducing the space between you almost completely, "You like how it looks on me?"

He is trying to be cheeky, and you can see it in his eyes. You bite your lower lip, your brain screaming to look away, to not get carried away by the intense gaze of the man in front of you. You know you’re a couple of seconds away from starting something, but you still don’t look away from him, chewing your lower lip again and a lucid idea comes to your mind; it was as if he...

"You've been waiting for us to be alone."

“Maybe.”

"How drunk are you?," you ask carefully, knowing that you two are starting to not think rationally.

"Honestly? Pretty drunk" he confesses, his words coming out slightly slurred, but even then, you can clearly hear the desire in his voice, “You?”

“Same. Enough to regret tomorrow”

Both of you stare at each other, analyzing, feeling that same tension coursing through the air. You didn’t need to say much, you didn’t need to speak with words, each of you knows what the other is thinking, each of you are aware of the fine line of the situation and the alcohol is making everything more intense. The look in his eyes, the way he keeps staring at you without blinking an eye,his cologne flooding your senses in the best and worst way possible. It’s all too much, and yet, it's still not enough.

"Chris, no- we're not thinking rationally," you mutter, slurring your words a little because of how quickly they come out of your mouth, "We're supposed to have a line, remember? And we're about to cross it-”

“Then push me away,” he almost dares you as he cutt you off, his hands slowly slide next to your arms as grabs the edge of the countertop, pinning you against the counter of the bar, “Tell me you don't wanna and I swear I won't do it again.”

“I…” you murmur under your breath, trying to think of anything to stop both of your brains from fading into the drunken lust.

“You what? You’re scared?” he asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow and then letting out a quiet sigh, “Don't you realize that we can't continue like this? I like you, you like me. Why don't you let me love you?”

You both looked into each other's eyes with an intensity that revealed all the feelings that you did not let come to the surface and tried to bury. You look into his chocolate brown eyes as if you’re bewitched by them and the way his eyes seem to almost stare into your soul. The closeness creates as if the world around you were a simple blur that makes you feel even dizzier.

His mind is clouded with all the things he wants to say and do, but the words are stuck in his throat for the way you were looking at him, making him feel like he’s the only person in the world. Chan's eyes darts downwards to your lips for a brief moment before quickly flicking back up to your eyes and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, when he found himself leaning just a millimeter closer to you, lips almost brushing yours.

“Let me love you, please…” he whispers in a low tone, making the words sound like a breathless prayer on his tongue.

You know it's wrong, you'll regret it the moment your mind becomes fully conscious again but your body simply can't keep up with the self-imposed prohibition nor even the same beg look in his eyes, so you just lock your lips with his.

With your soft, sweet permission as you close your eyes, Chan allows himself to move the hand he has on the edge of the countertop to place it on the side of your neck, cupping it and immediately closing his eyes at the contact.

The party, the people, the loud music, everything, disappear as a lost train that never returns. It feels like every nerve in your bodies is ignited as you both savor the taste of the other; every bit of non-talked emotions replaced by an overwhelming wave.

Chan kisses you with a sweet intensity as if he’s trying to make up for the years of suppressed feelings. He pulls you closer to him, his other hand finding your hip and resting on it as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently requesting entrance between your lips, which you gave it to him with delight as your hands travel to his shoulders.

You open your mouth slightly and Chris doesn’t waste a second entering it, causing your right hand to slide to the back of his head, grabbing his hair between your fingers as if your life depen on it. Chris lets a guttural sound escape his throat and buries his fingers hard into your hip, which you respond with a soft gasp.

His tongue explores your mouth eagerly, tasting and claiming every inch, leaving the two of you in a moment of undeniable connection and raw emotion and with a shudder; he gently pushes you against the countertop, tilting your head a bit to give him better access to your mouth, making you moan quietly in response.

Chris swallows the sound of your moan, feeling a wave of desire wash over him as he pushes you harder against it and his body against yours, pinning you between himself and the cold surface behind you.

He pulls back, both of you breathless, just enough to trail kisses down your jaw and throat, his nose pressing into the soft skin of your neck as he drank in the scent of you and taste of your skin, leaving hot kisses along your neck as he slowly makes his way to your lips, also leaving a quick there before separating his face from you.

Chris rests his forehead against yours as he, despite the desire coursing through him, can’t help but admire the sight of you; eyes shining while looking at him, lips parted and in a reddish color.

His eyes linger over your messy figure for a few seconds, his tongue moistening his lips as if he could still taste you in them, as if you could still melt in his mouth, "Let’s get out of here.”

“But your birthday party-”

“Fuck it."

He took a step back, reluctantly releasing his grip on your hip, but his other hand grabbed yours, lacing his fingers through yours and started to lead you inside the club and towards the exit.

"And the boys?"

"I’ll text them later."

Not even your mind responded clearly anymore, so clouded by the taste of his mouth and the desire for his hands to run over your body that you couldn't articulate any denial.

Chris hailed a cab and in the blink of an eye, you two were at your apartment, your lips locking againg once he closed the door. Everything happened so quickly as you walked blindly to your room, leaving your pieces of clothes and shoes along the way.

You realize you were both only wearing underwear when your back hits the soft sheets of your bed and your head the pillows, with Chris on top of you.

Chan breaks the kiss briefly to trail his mouth around your throat for a few seconds, trying to contain the desire that was coursing through his entire being as he tastes your skin and hear your gasps in response, and he move his mouth down to your collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your chest and then going down to your stomach, his hot tongue leaving a hot stripe of saliva as he continues to go down until he reaches your hip bone, suddenly felt your fingers tugging the strands of his hair.

Chris stops immediately to raise his head a little, looking at you with doe eyes, captivated by the image in front of him. His hands travel from your hips to the edge of your panties, slowly lowering them as you raise your hips a little to help him and throwing them somewhere in the moonlit room.

He lets out a gasp as he looks at your exposed wet pussy, and you see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows in an almost greedy way. His eyes seem as if he's admiring some kind of rare diamond, and even if you want to hide and feel self-conscious about your body, the look in his eyes makes you shiver, the intensity with which he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful girl to step on earth.

"Tell me how bad you want it" he whispers, almost in a daze, as his hands travel again to your thighs, feeling your skin like a delicate fabric, tracing patterns over your inner legs, to which you respond by lowering a bit his head until his nose and lips brush against your folds, “Use your words, princess.” his breath directly against your cunt causes a cold shiver to run down your spine, anticipating the pleasure and you let out a quiet gasp.

“Please…” you whisper in a tremulous tone, feeling your cheeks burn with desire and perhaps a little bit of embarrassment for the intense look of the man in front of you and you bite your lower lip as he brushes his nose over your folds again, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch; your response to his pleas makes him feel a wave of satisfaction and heat in his stomach, “I-I want it so bad, please Chris”

"There we go" Chris praises you quietly, a satisfied smile on his lips, "You're doing such a good job for me, princess, I know you can do better." He gives your aching pussy a quick lick, making you whine, as if he was analyzing your reaction, and then wets his lips to speak again, "Tell me how you want me to touch you, I need to know, yeah?,” you eagerly nod and he slowly, gently pushes your legs a little more apart and he leans in a little more between them, his breath warming your core before he buries himself on your pussy.

Chris starts soft, even gentle; moving his tongue up and down and sucking your bundle of nerves with his gaze fixed on you and your reactions to know if you’re liking his work, but with every whimper or moan that comes out of your mouth, he increases the intensity, reaching to the point that he’s eating you as if it was his first meal in years. The obscene sounds his mouth makes while sucking your clit and the way you squirm under him fills your room, together with the light of the moon coming in through the slightly open window and shining a light on Chris, making his eyes shine, are the only things your head can focus on right now. Every nerve of your body is connected to his mouth and there’s nothing more delicious, making you clench your fists in his soft hair.

“Fuckfuck, Chris, Chris-” is all you can manage to murmur in a soft moan, not feeling yourself in control of your own words as his chocolate glossy gaze’s still fixed on you, “Fingers, fingers please.” The sweet, impatient plea makes him feel proud; proud to have you moan and shiver like that, to have you writhing under him so nicely and a sound that’s between a satisfied moan and a soft, low laugh comes from his mouth as soon the word ‘fingers’ leaves your mouth. Chris immediately obeys, “Yeah, baby, I got you” purrs against your wetness, leaving a wet kiss before pulling himself away as he takes his right hand from your right thigh and bringing his middle and ring fingers to your folds; rubbing them to catch your juices mixed with their saliva and bring them to your lips. Chris doesn't have to say anything for you to open your mouth and start sucking his fingers as if it was the most important mission of your life.

“Such a good girl, mh?” he praises you again, watching intently with his pupils dilated the way you seem to enjoy savouring the mix, “I would never have guessed you were that nasty.” he teased, tilting his head slightly before slowly removing his fingers, now wet with your saliva, from your mouth and bringing them to you core. He moves them down your entrance, mocking you as you can feel how you clench around nothing and without any notice, slides them in a smooth motion, feeling how tight and warm you are.

Your eyebrows furrow at the sudden intrusion and you look at him with your mouth open, unable to say a word when he begins to move them inside you, curving them to easily hit your sweet spot, “Did I make you that excited?” he asks in a teasing tone while leans towards to place his lips on the crook of your neck, biting softly without looking away from you. A whiny “Chris- fuck yes” comes from your throat, one of your hands grips his wrist tightly; feeling in your grip how his muscles tense and relax as he moves his fingers and you close your eyes, still with your brows furrowed. "Keep… Saying my name, you sound… So pretty," he mutters between bites, his eyes fixed on your expressions as he picks up the speed of his fingers, "Will you keep being a good girl for daddy?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. It echoes through your mind and you involuntarily cum around his fingers, making you both moan at the action at the same time that your fluids ran down Chris's wrist. Chris stops his work on your neck to raise his head and look at you carefully, a teasing smile on his face, "Did you just cum on my fingers because I called myself ‘daddy’?” his fingers lower the intensity, riding your orgasm and bringing you out breathless gasps.

Your eyes flutter, face completely flushed as you catch your breath from your sudden orgasm, not being able to articulate many words. When your eyes finally lock with his, his satisfied and teasing smile pronounces, “Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur as he brings his wet fingers to his mouth for a quick taste before licking them clean with one of his eyebrows raised. “You look cute,” Chris responds once he removes his fingers and slides his hand down your throat until he brings it to the side of your neck, cradling it while his mouth approaches your jaw to begin a route of kisses to your mouth, "But answer me."

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” he continues his path of kisses up to your mouth, gently biting your lower lip, “I thought so… Does it make you feel good to have daddy taking care of you?” he asks in a sweet tone, completely contrary to the weight of the phrase, before leaving a small kiss on your lips. You can’t help but purr softly a “Yes… Daddy,” that makes him kiss you again, smiling against your lips. Chris sits on his knees between your legs, still with his face close to yours and he takes your wrist in his free hand, bringing it to his black design boxers, letting you feel his thick hard cock under them, “You think your tight little pussy can handle me?,” you swallow, already imagining how it looks, but the moment he lets out your wrist and pulls his boxers down, leaning up straight for you to see him, your mouth and pussy wets again; a big red tip monster. You look at him with slightly widened eyes and he chuckles, “Small packages have big surprises, babe.”

The view in front of you is magnificent, to say the least; broad shoulders, muscular arms with some veins popping, delicious and big pecs that make the necklace you gift him look simple, abs where his hard cock collides with and that teasing look as he bites his lip, capturing all your reactions. Your skin crawls while you entrance clenchs again around nothing and you unconsciously open your legs more, to which he responds by pulling down his boxers completely and throwing them away.

Chris looks at your dripping pussy for a few seconds, swallowing the lump in his throat, “Liking what you see, princess?” asks with an arrogant smile, “You look delicious while mouth-watering yourself”. He leans over you again, slowly approaching the warmth of your body, lowering his head to press his lips to the sensitive skin of your neck and leaving a trail of small kisses until he reaches your ear. “Let’s see if daddy can make you mindless, shall we?” he whispers as his fingertips ghosts the skin of your thighs until he reaches your knees and grips them to lift your legs, placing them on his shoulders.

His grip loosens and his left hand lowers to his throbbing dick, pumping himself before lining himself up to your wet entrance as he rubbs his tip on your juices, "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he whispers again against your ear, grabbing your waist and slowly pulling his hips towards you, entering his tip. He continues to bring his hips closer to yours until he fully enters and feels the way your walls receive him; squeezing him and in turn, soaking him. Both of you moan due to the new sensation and Chris lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, taking the opportunity to leave a love bite on the skin of your collarbone.

“You’re so tight… Fuck,” he says through his teeth while he feels your body adjusting to him and he lifts his head from your shoulder to lock his gaze with yours. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are slightly glossy, making him look more beautiful than usual. Your hands wander up his arms, going up to his shoulders and digging softly your nails, “Y-you can move,” you say in a plea and he didn’t need further instructions to start moving his hips at a slow pace, although it didn't last long.

The sticky sounds and skin crashing filling your ears as his dick goes in and out of your pussy at a speed your mind couldn't handle. He leans back to take a better look of you, his ego boosting at the way you’re under him letting out loud sounds. The moonlight seep throught the window, bathing his toned body, making the sweat on his skin almost shine as you look at him as if he was a god to worship. His hair falls over his forehead and eyes, which are still staring deep into yours when you arch your back by the new position. “C-chris- daddy? Fuckfuckfuck,” you mutter under your breath while he brings his right hand to you, putting his index and middle finger in your mouth, “Suck. I know you like to play with your mouth,” he commands to let a guttural sound out of his throat when your warm tongue embraces them and you start sucking.

He hums in satisfaction before taking his fingers out of your mouth and running them over your skin to your neck, leaving a trail of drool that makes you gasp at the sensation. Chris leans towards you again, his lips brushing yours, as he grips on your neck thightly, “Your little pussy needed my cock that bad?” he groans breathlessy, almost sounding like a growl, picking up his pace and starting hitting your sweet spot directly, that's where you can swear he's eyeing at you like you're his prey.

His breath hits your face while he bites his lip and you try to let out a word but he’s feral while his tip bullies your sensitive spot, so only moans come out of your lips that are getting louder and louder. Your grip on his shoulders begins to shake as you dig your nails harder into him and he brings the hand on your waist to your lower stomach, gently pressing down and making sure you feel everything as you squirm more under him. “You like that, mmh?” he groans again and you begin to feel how the overstimulation of sensations gathers in you, legs beginning to tremble, lips already open and walls that squeeze him with more force, you’re so close. Chris seems to feel it and picks up the pace again, bringing his face to the crook of your neck to start licking the hot sweaty skin, “Daddy, I- gonna c-” you try to say but he cuts you off with a soft “Cum, yeah? Cum on daddy’s cock, baby, I know you can- That’s it, good job. Good job, princess” he praises in a sweet tone as you reach the edge with the last loud moan, closing your eyes tightly and releasing your nails from his shoulders to let your arms fall to the mattress while gasping slightly.

Chris's grip on your neck loosens as he continues to crash on your body, quickly reaching his orgasm as well with a guttural moan. For a few seconds, everything else disappeared, and all that existed were you two and the feeling of the world exploding around you.

Then, slowly, reality began to creep back in, and with his tremblous touch he takes your legs off his shoulders to gently place them on the mattress before collapsing on top of you, burying further his face in your neck and wrapping his arms around you. The room was almost silent, save the soft noise of your breathings mixing together. It isn’t until Chris speaks that you could notice the faint sound of the cars and the traffic from the streets outside the building.

“Have I been too hard?” he mutters against your skin, his voice a little winded as both of you try to get yours heartbeats back under control. Your hands move to the back of his head, slowly stroking his hair as your bodies sank in sweat and heat that slowly ceased to exist, “Mh, no, everything was fine, Chris”, you assure with a tired smile, your own voice breathy and soft. He slowly moves from you just enough to raise his upper body and look at you, his chin gently resting on your chest as he does. Chan’s eyes run over your eyes, from your messy hair to your rosy cheeks and your shoulders where he can see the marks from his bites.

He moves one of his hands to push his hair back as his lips pull into a lazy smile before he separates himself from you, getting up from your bed to look for his boxers and put them on quickly, “Don’t move, I’m gonna clean you up… The towels are in the bathroom, right?” you nod while you watch him move in the dark towards the bathroom and return with a small towel in his hands. He picks up your panties from the floor before getting on the bed and start gently cleaning you, “You treat me like a baby,” you murmur to him between giggles as he puts your underwear back on and throws away the towel, looking at you with a smile before lying down next to you and covering both with the sheets, “That’s because I like babying you”.

Chan’s now lying on one side, his head resting on one of his forearms and the other hand absently drawing patterns on your bare belly as you lie on your back, “I’m sleepy” you complain as you move sligthy to lie on your side and face Chris. He moves closer to you, moving one arm under your neck to put you closer to him, pressing your chests while nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. His right arm envelops your waist tight as a small yawn leaves his lips and he lets out a sigh, “Mmmh, I could get used to this,” he muses with a sleepy voice before leaving a small kiss on your head, and you feel how a wave of reality hits you, hard.

His words make your stomach stir, the realitzation of what has just happened between the two of you being too big to be real. You swallow with some difficulty and you close your eyes, suddenly too aware of his touch, his body around yours as he continues to run his hand affectionately up and down your back while your heart aches at his words; not because you didn’t feel the same, but because he loved you and you were going to break his. You can't help but feel guilty after everything that has happened; yet you can’t stop yourself from snuggling closer into his chest, as if hoping that by doing so you could bury it all to the back of your mind. Chan's hand moves to gently card through your hair, "You know I love you, right?" he mutters against your head, still in an almost sleepy tone, "I've been in love with you forever" he whispers as his lips nuzzle into the crown of your hair while his other arm hugs you tighter to his body, as if he also didn't want to let go.

You bite your lower lip hard and try to be as strong as possible so as not to start crying right there, in his arms, "I know... I've always been in love with you too." your voice is sincere, feelings transparent like a mountain river that has not yet been contaminated but still trembles a little. “Good... Because I’m not planning to give you up,” Chris murmurs, and even if you can’t see his face, you can feel the soft smile through the tone of his voice, still with his head burrowed on your hair. It’s impossible not to feel guilty and undeserving when he cuddles you so affectionately and whispers so lovingly into your hair.

In a short time, you began to feel Chan's soft breathing in your hair, indicating that he had fallen asleep and had left you alone with your internal storm, likewise, it did not take you that long to follow him and fall asleep in his arms, with your body heat.

The faint ray of light coming through the window together with the snoring of the body by your side woke you up, feeling groggy and slightly cold. You opened your eyes, finding yourself glued to Chris’ back, your nose burying in the back of his nape and your hand on his belly. He was like a little furnace that still irradiated heat while being sound asleep, and you could feel the muscles in his abdomen move when he breathed heavily; even under your hand. You carefully left his side, getting out of bed to open the closet and grab the first pajamas you found, feeling how your body gradually began to warm up in the cold morning.

You made your way to the bathroom to remove your completely ruined makeup and wash your face, noticing the marks on your neck and shoulders that had been completely ignored by you at night. You left there starting to feel disappointed again and totally guilty of yourself as you went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, your head felt like it was going to explode, your heart hurt like never before, and you couldn't walk very well. While the coffee maker fills your cup, with your head in your hands while your elbows are on the counter staring at the cup, you feel Chris’ arms around your waist from behind, burrying his face in your neck, murmuring a groggy “G’morning,” voice thick from sleep, to which you reply with a soft, "Morning".

His embrace around your waist is warm and comfortable, but you can't help but tense against him. In his still foggy mind, he doesn't seem to notice that something is wrong, "You smell nice," he mutters in your ear, before leaving a sleepy kiss on the crook of your neck, and that action only made you feel worse, as if the world was crushing you. Chan leaves another small kiss behind your ear before asking, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, yes, everything’s good, Chris, and you?" you say quickly, stopping the coffee maker to remove your cup and separate yourself from him. You sat on one of the chairs at the dining room table with your cup, completely ignoring the look of confusion that was beginning to form on his face, resting your elbows on the table again to put your head in your hands, "Make yourself a coffee if you want".

Chan walks over to the coffee machine and starts preparing himself a cup, but you can feel his gaze on you from time to time; even if you keep ignoring him. He then goes and sits across from you, in complete silence, his eyes studying the way you were avoiding his gaze to the point of not even looking at him, and then you can hear him take a deep breath before asking, “Is this the part where you tell me 'What happened yesterday shouldn't have happened and that it was a mistake’?”

Your heart clenches at how low and hurt his voice sounds, as if he’s already prepared for the worst, and it makes you feel more than terrible but unable to explain to him at the same time. You can’t see his face, but you’re sure his eyes are beginning to look at you with that dejected expression and it makes it very hard for you to hold your own facade even a second longer, “I… I can’t do this, I’m sorry. I told you I would regret it in the morning, and I am. I've been doing it since after we went to bed”.

The silence that follows your words feels like an eternal torture in which you can’t help but think of what Chris’ feeling, what he thinks of you. After a long minute, he finally speaks, and you can hear in his voice that he is holding back every emotion that runs through him to say something more, “You know… You were the one that took the first step last night. If you told me you would regret it after it, why... Why did you do it?,” but before you can answer, he continues, a dissappointed tone in his voice, "I know you think you’re not enough for me… But this is going too far, don’t you think? I’ve been chasing you for forever and when I finally get you, you do this to me? I- I just don’t understand you!" your stomach twists hearing the way his words start to crack at the end as he speaks, the frustration he feels towards you seeping through every syllable.

Chan stands up in a rush, almost knocking over his chair in the process, running one of his hands through his hair as he walks with short quick steps around the kitchen while the other rests on his hip, “God… I don’t even know what I expected after I saw you avoiding me the first thing,” he mutters, and you’re sure it wasn’t for you to hear, but you did anyway and it makes you feel like you’re shattering, and then he stops in front of you, “Look at me.” You know you have to face the consequences of your own actions, so you slowly raise your head, meeting his eyes for the first time since you woke up. His facial expression was a mixture of frustration and hopelessness, with a gaze you’ve never seen in him before. He takes a few seconds to just look at you as if trying to get some answer to the dozens of questions circling in his mind right now, and then he speaks again, “Why, after everything that happened last night… why are you pushing me away like this? Is it that hard to accept that I love you?” his question makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach because it’s hard, excruciatingly hard to accept that the guy in front of you is hopelessly in love with you.

His words make you bite your lip to hold back a wave of tears as you finally let out a trembolous sigh, “I want to hear it from your own mouth. Why?” he murmurs with a stern but pained tone. You’ve never hated yourself as much as you do in this moment, seeing his beautiful eyes pleading for an answer, a reason, a damn explanation. It feels like a nightmare, like a cruel punishment, and the only thing you can do is keep staring at him silently as he continues, frustration growing in his voice, “You were the one who initiated everything; the first to move, the first to open up and let me in, and now you’re pushing me back again because you’re insecure?-” “You don't understand anything!” you cut him off, raising your voice and feeling a big ball form in your throat.

“You don't know how much it hurts to constantly compare yourself with all the women next to you, knowing that each and every one of them is better than me in every aspect. I don't want you to be with me! Can it get into your head?” the words come out of your mouth so fast that you don't know if Chris’ understanding you, “I already know that you don't love others, I know that you think that I am enough but can't you understand that I don't see myself like that? I already know it's my problem. That I’m the problem but I can't help but think like that.” At this point you’re standing up, both of your coffees going cold as you look into each other's eyes, sharing a different pain but same intensity.

Chan stares at you with a mix of hurt and confusion, his heart breaking with every word that falls from your lips. He has seen your doubts and fears before, but he didn't think they ran this deep, "I… I don’t understand why you would think this way…" he stutters, his voice quivering, "I've told you countless times how much you mean to me-". “It’s not about what you say, Chris. You can tell me I’m the most important thing in the world every day and I would still believe that I’m not!” you snap, your voice rising again as frustration, guilt and pain bubble over inside you, “I don’t know how many times I have to say I’m not good enough for you to get it” you continue before looking away from him, “So please… Leave.”

Chris falls silent at your words, a pang went through his chest like a dagger, the air in his lungs ceasing to exist and his entire being felt as if it was imploding. Your words echoed loudly in his mind and his eyes widening slightly, "What?" he mutters in an almost disbelieving tone. You avoid his gaze, your mind and heart in turmoil. You know you’re making a mistake, pushing him away like this, but yet, the crippling fear and doubt gnaws at your insides, “Leave,” you beg, in a pleading whisper, still refusing to look at him, “Just go.”

Chan’s completely and utterly stunned as realization sinks in. His eyes widen even more, and his entire body tenses as if hit by electricity. You’ve never seen this expression before, and it makes your heart sink into your stomach. For several seconds, he stays frozen in place, with a completely bewildered expression on his face, his mind trying to process your words, to believe what you just said. And then, softly, he whispers, “Are you seriously asking me to leave?” his voice is so low that it’s a contrast to the loud beat of your own heart. Your stomach twists painfully hearing his pained, disbelieving tone. You know you’re hurting him. That you just made the biggest mistake of your life. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to take it all back and apologize, your fear and insecurity still making you believe that this is the best for him, best to keep him at a safe distance away from your mess. So, you keep looking away from him, fighting to keep your voice steady as you answer hoarsely, “Yes, I want you to leave.”

There’s another second of complete silence. Even your own breaths sound too loud in the quiet of the kitchen, and you swear you can hear the sound of your own heart breaking along with his. Then, his voice, still low, said, "Why are you doing this to me?” his voice sounds broken as he steps closer to you, “I’ve done everything I can to show you how I feel, to prove you wrong… and it's never enough, is it?" he stops right in front of you, but he doesn't try to touch you, just staring at the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, Chris, really.”

Chan keeps staring at you for several more seconds, the silence growing heavier with every moment passing. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath, and you can almost feel the turmoil of emotions in him; his heart bleeding with each passing beat, the pain of your words stabbing through him like a knife. After what feels like an eternity, he opens his eyes, and speaks again, his voice quivering, “Will you look at me?” you can hear the raw pain in his voice, the way it’s cracking, and it makes you want to run your fingers through his hair, hold him tight to your chest. But you don’t do any of those things. You raise your gaze slowly, almost unwillingly, and almost regret it the moment you look into his face, seeing his beautiful face twisted with an expression of pure suffering, his eyes glittering with restrained tears that break your heart even more, and you almost have to bite your tongue to hold back the tears rising in your own eyes as you see the way he’s looking at you.

He’s trying, with all his might, to keep it together. To hold back tears, to keep his own emotions inside him. But he can’t. He can’t stop the corners of his eyes from dampening, the way his bottom lip quivers, or the way his voice breaks when he speaks again,

“I love you. Please, don’t forget it...”

You saw in his eyes how he hesitated whether to kiss you or simply hold your face with his hands but he didn't do any of that. He looked at you, giving you the best smile he could give you at that moment before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You heard him getting dressed in your room but everything was like a distant noise and muffled by the way you began to cry silently.

The sound of the front door closing was the trigger for you to start sobbing, realizing that you were now totally alone.

In your apartment and in your life.

[silenttrxxs]

-professor! choi san x reader

Exam season the hardest time for anyone, the days melding into one as you desperately try to pass your degree, even at the lowest grade it would be something. But you had a problem. A huge handsome problem staring you in the face every single day.

Your professor. Everyone was oogling… who could blame them really it wasn’t everyday a uni would employ such a fresh face, every other professor looking like they walked out a retirement home.

This one though, god he was something else, you’d just lost the previous professor something to do with being caught with drugs or something in the uni which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The day he walked into the lecture hall it seemed the world just stopped. The entire lecture feeling like it was going on forever and it was a welcome change to the usual mundane clock watching during the previous lectures.

A snap of his fingers in your face snapped you out of your days. Forgetting where you was for a moment lost in thought… well that’s what you told everyone but really you was trying your hardest not to drool. Watching his every single move. His voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine even if he was speaking about how plants soak up the sun and some other biological nonsense that you already knew.

“Y/N attention up here please, you’re day dreaming again… dont make me have to write you up. You’re already dropping below half the students here…” he spoke your face reddening as you looked up, trying to avoid his gaze, the white shirt and glasses not helping you one tiny bit. You crossed your legs and sat up more promising to pay more attention to the lecture.

He scoffed and watched the reaction slyly and smirked to himself walking back to his desk and leaning against it, concluding the lecture for the day and dismissing everyone.

“Y/N a word please” he spoke before you could reach the door.

turning around and looking up at him.

“Yeah what’s up?” You said gripping onto you backpack and trying to will away the heat spreading across your cheeks.

“What’s going on, why is someone as smart as you failing this course, you know im not just a professor i am also human and i believe its only fair to offer help when needed” san says, smiling softly and looking at you.

You shrug unable to explain yourself.

“Im disappointed in you y/n i thought you’d be better than this… dont play coy, i know I’ve got everyone oogling but i only have eyes for one person right now” he walks over his gaze falling down travelling over your face.

Your breath hitches at the closeness, you can feel the heat radiating from your body and his. Before you could utter a word you feel your body being moved, you knees against the cold oak desk.

“Sir what are you doing” you manage to whine out a little your excitement and arousal already dripping from you. The short dress you chose to wear leaving nothing to the imagination.

Your back arches as a hand is caressing your scalp, fingers dancing along before tugging harshly. “Just take this as a private lesson, maybe after this you might focus a little better..” san says his voice low and husky, his breath hot against your ear.

“S-sir, f-fuck” you moan out as you feel a hand dropping between you both, your dress lifted up, and panties now slide to the side, his fingers dancing over your now soaked core.

“F-fuck you’re dripping darling, is this what you day dream about huh? My fingers deep inside you, bringing you closer and closer by the second” he says, his fingers pressing into you, your body clenching around him with every word.

A whine leaves your throat before you could catch it, your body falling against the table, knuckles white as you grip onto the desk, trying so hard to ground yourself as the white hot heat envelopes you.

“S-sir p-please” you moan out, not sure what you’re exactly begging for but the way his fingers are curling inside you, and the grip on your hip driving you insane.

“Good girl, you’re learning… now I want you to ride me, I want to see how much of a good listener you are” he says his cock throbbing in the right restraints of his trousers. He fumbles with the zipper freeing his aching cock and sitting in his chair. Legs spread slightly, accommodating the way his cock was stiff, aching and red, leaking with precum.

You let your mouth hang open, drool forming as you take in the sight before you. Obeying his command you find yourself discarding your bag, your legs straddling him and your tight heat enveloping his cock. The sight is unbelievably hot. You throw your head back as you feel him throbbing inside you with every clench until you bottom out.

“F-fuck o-oh my god s-sir” you moan as you feel his hands on your hips again, his nails digging deliciously into your flesh. You movements being guided, a steady rhythm being created between you both. Before it’s cut short, a hand comes to your jaw, pulling you gaze to his face, his glasses slightly down his face… his eyes filled with pure primal lust as you feel him fuck into you, hips snapping as your skin slaps together, you’re dripping now you’re sure he’s coated in your arousal. “F-fuck d-don’t stop p-please oh… oh fuck” you moan out your climax approaching before it’s cut dead. Movements halted.

“Show me. Show me if you’ve learnt anything gorgeous.. I can’t do everything for you… you got to work for it” San says his body falling back resting against the chair, his gaze falling over your body, drinking you in with pure lust.

A scream leaves your body as you move almost instantly, your hips moving and bouncing on his cock. You feel him deep inside you, his cock throbbing inside you. Your hands on his shoulders, your gaze locked with his with every single movement. The room is filled with almost pornographic noises.

“G-good girl, finally… you’ve learnt well.. now… l-let me teach you something new” San says before lifting you off him, positioning himself behind you, your body bent over the desk before pounding into you again, his hips thrusting into you with so much force the pot of pens that were sitting there now discarded on the floor. You feel him lifting your leg up to rest on the table, the new position allowing him to fuck into you harder and deeper.

You let out a scream as a wave hits you, your climax approaching so fast you see white. The growl behind you signalling another wave to course through you. “F-fuck s-sir” you moan out as he continues his pace. Flipping you over and fucking into you harder his hand coming to wrap around your throat as he watches the way you come undone. Completely and utterly wrecked by his body.

“What have we learnt baby” he says thrusting into you with each word.

You’re done your mind completely blank of all thoughts, his got you under his control. Submitted fully to him.

“O-oh my god” is all you can manage to say. Your eyes rolling back as he squeezes your throat cutting your air supply a little, his hips snapping into you with even more force.

“Oh sweetness… your fucked dumb now aren’t you… not a single thought in that pretty little head” San says his tone condescending but my god is it sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your gripping onto him, tugging at his shirt.

“P-please I’ll be a good girl… please I’m gonna come again” you moan out your eyes looking into his, you’re voice laced with longing.

“S-sir please” you moan again as you feel him throbbing inside you, signalling he is also close.

His movements halt to a stop. A strangled whine leaves your body at the feeling. You look up. His eyes are half lidded with primal fury as he grips your hair pulling you and guiding you onto your knees.

“Only good girls get to come baby…” San says before standing over you. Stroking himself in front of you and releasing over your face.

“Now answer me darling… are you going to do better” he says. Looking down at you and smirking before fumbling with his trousers and sitting down on his chair.

[cookiesandbiscuits]

A Test of Sincerity

Pairing: Lucifer x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff (I don't really know what genre this is exactly)

Summary: After his failed attempt to test you, Lucifer now finds himself bothered with the silent treatment you're giving him, so he decides to apologize and end it once and for all. They say the way to a man's heart is their stomach; surely the same can be said to you, right?

A/N: I promised to make this so here is my retelling of Lucifer's Devilgram story "Trust and Poison"! (Can you tell how much I adore this story? 😆)

This is basically his side of the story, but with a few add-ons (or cut-offs) since I dont remember the story well despite loving it so much =w=;

I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Spoilers for the Devilgram "Trust and Poison"

MASTERLIST

You weren't someone to be trusted.

That was the sentence Lucifer's mind kept repeating whenever he thought of you.

His brothers might find you endearing, but not him. Not when you were already so familiar of his and his brothers' unique quirks despite just meeting them. Not when you were closely acquainted with the sorcerer Solomon, who is known not only for his incredible power but also for his infamous reputation of making demons submit to his will. Not when you have your way of making him lower his guard, as if he had known you for years.

Surely, you must be hiding something. Something that can affect, or worse, harm his brothers.

He will uncover it, no matter what it takes. And he has a perfect plan for it.

.

.

.

He relishes the way your expression slowly morph into panic as he placed the shiny red apple in front of you.

It was no ordinary apple. It was the Apple of Truth. While it may look like a mouth-watering, juicy apple at first glance, it has the power to kill even a demon if they tell a lie before eating it.

Yes, this was his perfect plan.

If you really were telling the truth, you'd take a bite from the apple and be able to tell the tale. But if not... well, let's just say he'll be glad with the result either way.

A sinister smile formed on Lucifer's lips.

"Well? Answer me. Are you really a demon?"

CREAK

"Lucifer? You're still here?"

Of all the time to– Lucifer clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"What is it, Beel?"

"I'm just here to grab something I forgot... Is that an apple? It looks delicious."

"W-wait...!"

"Beel, no!"

Before the two of you were able to stop him, the sixth-born had already swallowed the apple. And with it, the plan Lucifer had oh-so carefully crafted disappears. It was hard to convince Barbatos to give the apple to him, too.

But what caught the Avatar of Pride off-guard was the panicked look on your face— which was not directed to yourself but to his younger brother.

"Beel, are you okay?! Do you feel weird?! Does your stomach hurt–?!"

"I'm okay... I think. Why? What is it?" Beel tilted his head in confusion.

You let out a sigh of relief before glaring daggers at Lucifer, as if he had done the most horrible thing on the three realms.

"Well, it seems that my job is done for the day, so I'll be taking my leave. I'll be back for tomorrow."

"......."

A loud thud echoed as you closed the door of the assembly hall.

"What?" The eldest said in irritation when he felt the eyes of his brother on him.

.

.

.

He only did what he had to do, Lucifer says in his mind, trying to justify his actions.

Yet why did he still feel so guilty whenever he sees you?

A few days had passed since his failed attempt to uncover your secret, and you have taken it up to yourself to give him the silent treatment.

He doesn't want to admit it, but it has been bothering him ever since. It has gotten to the point that his brothers also go silent when the two of you were in the same room, making the situation more awkward.

Today, however, he decided that enough was enough.

"Is there something you want? I'm planning to buy some snacks in the convenient store."

"I'm actually craving Barbatos's cake today, but I'm fine with anything that's not too spicy. Thanks, Levi."

Another plan forms on Lucifer's mind.

.

.

.

"Are you done for today?"

"......."

His question was met with silence.

"Cancel all your plans this afternoon. You're going to accompany me to the Demon Lord's Castle."

This time, you replied with a glare.

"I won't be taking no as an answer. Now come along."

Lucifer opens the door and beckoned you to go outside first. After a few moments, you complied.

A small smile appeared on Lucifer's face.

.........

You were greeted by the prince and his butler once the two of you arrived on the castle.

"I'm glad you will be joining us for tea today. Come, let us go to the garden!" Diavolo says before leading you and Lucifer deeper into the castle grounds.

.

.

.

"Ahahahaha!"

Lucifer sighed as Diavolo's laugh filled the garden.

"So your plan failed due to Beelzebub's interference, and now they're mad at you. Ahahaha!"

The Avatar of Pride frowned at the crown prince who was clearly amused by the situation.

"It's an awful thing to do! What if something bad happened to Beel?" You ranted.

Diavolo gave you a sympathetic smile in return. "They're right. You shouldn't be testing them, Lucifer."

Lucifer let out another sigh.

"Well, it is perfectly normal to be upset when someone questions your sincerity," Barbatos added. The butler placed a plate of his signature cake in front of you. "Here, have a slice of cake."

"That's why I brought them here as an apology," Lucifer says as he took his teacup from its saucer.

Diavolo looked at him, puzzled. "How is visiting us an apology?"

"They mentioned that they've been wanting to eat Barbatos's cake earlier," Lucifer replied.

This caused you to scoff in offense. "Don't use Barbatos to apologize for your mistake! And stop eavesdropping on other people's conversations!"

"Why, you insolent...!" Lucifer's brow twitched in annoyance as he managed to catch his tongue in the last minute.

He brought you here to resolve the situation, not to make it worse.

"Haha! They might be the only one who could stand up to you like this, Lucifer," Diavolo hummed, definitely enjoying the scene unfolding in front of him.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Lucifer took the fork and stabbed the cake with it.

"The fact of the matter is, I brought you here to make up for my mistake, and you want to eat this cake," he says as he takes a piece of cake with the fork and raised it in front of you. "Here. Open wide."

Now, will you take a bite, and accept his apology? Or will you refuse it and force him to look for another way to apologize?

Well, the rest is up to you to decide.

[anemhoez]

The General…

Jiyan/AFAB Reader/Rover

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, language, slight breeding

A/N: *clawing at the walls* JIIIIYAAAAAAAN!! is it just me or did they make this mf TOO hot?! is that a thing?!?! everytime i see him i just *chokes self* i need a cold shower hehehe

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

With the upcoming battle against the Threnodian threat and the dangers that would arise, General Jiyan was more concerned than ever. You found him pacing in his makeshift office, a small room in an abandoned warehouse that he and his army moved into to have a place for medical staff and equipment. “General? You asked to see me?” you questioned softly once walking in, hoping not to disturb him in whatever he was doing. “Yes, thank you for coming Rover, please sit.” his voice was more gentle with you then when he spoke to his subordinates. “I want to reiterate just how dangerous the upcoming battle will be, the crownless is ruthless.” he spoke with concern heavy in his voice. Your face stayed stoic as you nodded, “I know general, but im one hundred percent committed to this fight, i won’t falter.”

Jiyan smiled at your resolve, “I’m honored to have a soldier like you by my side, thank you.” he said with a small sigh. He stretched his neck with a deep groan, bringing a hand to soothe the aching muscle. “Are you alright general?” you stood up quickly, moving over to observe him more closely. His amber eyes met yours, “Yes, i’m fine, just a bit stressed, nothing out of the ordinary.” he leaned against the dusty table he used to revise plans with the troops. You reached out, touching his forehead with the back of your hand to check his temperature. “You’re not very warm, do you want me to fetch some vitamin packets from the infirmary?” He shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m fine really, please dont worry about me, there’s more pressing matters to attend to.” he reassured you with his never ending resolve. “Alright but, at least take some time to relax, even if just for a little bit,” you cocked your head to the side, observing his demeanor, “what do you normally do to de-stress?”

The general before you seemed to light up suddenly at your question. “Well, I like to spar with the new recruits, take long walks or,” he stopped when he noticed your proximity. You had moved closer to him, your heavenly scent hit him harder than it should have, and he inhaled deeply. He looked down at you, his intense stare causing your stomach to stir, “I also like to have sex when I’m stressed.”

If you hadnt already been in a trance by his stare, his words would have definitely done the trick. You gulped audibly, “Oh?! Of course you do- ah i mean to say that’s a good stress reliever- I’m not saying that you’re some kind of degenerate or anything!” Jiyan actually laughed hard at your words, the first time you’ve ever seen such emotion since being around him. Your face got hot, worried you had overstepped, “Forgive me general, it’s been a while for me so the topic is kind of, gods why am i so awkward?!” you asked yourself out loud, your body absentmindedly walking towards the door.

The general turned to sit at his desk, his large lap looking as inviting as ever. “It’s actually been a while for me too, I never have time for myself, let alone someone else.” his eyes followed you as he spoke, hoping he hadn’t made you uncomfortable in any way. But as soon as you closed the door and locked it, his need and desire began to grow. You mustered up all your courage and sighed, “General, I’m more than willing to help you,” your voice was soft as your hands came to remove your top. Without a word, Jiyan took you by the waist bringing you to sit on his lap.

Your lips collided in a frenzied kiss, his strong grip and dominance over you caused your head to spin. His gloved hand adorned with claws squeezed your breasts one after the other, while his other hand rested at your back. When you finally pulled away, he made quick work of your bra, pulling it down so he could suck and bite at your sensitive flesh. He was so rough with you, his eager and desperate hands gripped you tightly, sure to leave bruises in their wake. He pulled away from you briefly, only to place you on top of the desk.

“Forgive me, for being so rough with you,” his hands were softer now, more gentle as they rubbed up your exposed thighs. “Dont be, please use me however you like,” you pleaded and took one of his hands and brought it between your legs. He sighed at your warmth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth he growled, feeling your wetness through your underwear. “Fuck,” he cursed into your mouth, your tongues soon meeting in another passionate kiss that made you dizzy. Jiyan finally lifted up your skirt to your belly and pulled your underwear down, sitting back in his chair and making himself comfortable before leaning down to slot between your legs.

You arched your back sharply, feeling his tongue glide up from your entrance to your clit. He moaned deep, practically growling as he tasted you. You looked down at the sight of the general making a mess of you, greedily licking and slurping, driving you feral with his tongue. Your fingers grabbed at his hair, tugging and pulling him impossibly closer. “General,” you huffed, his long tongue fucking in and out of your sopping hole viciously. “Fuck!” you yelped, shaking in his grasp as you came hard, the lack of touch the past few months making you a whiny, trembling mess within seconds. He continued however, determined to get you to come as many times as he liked. He sucked on your clit, releasing you from his grasp only to remove his bracers and gloves. He inserted two fingers inside of you, keeping the brutal pace of his tongue against you while he curved and pumped his fingers in and out. You huffed and moaned, the overstimulation wracking your body again and again as the general teased your spot over snd over with his long thick fingers. “Please! Please just fuck me!” you begged as you tugged on his ponytail, needing the onslaught on your pussy to stop.

When he finally pulled away, his mouth was glistening with your essence and he licked his lips greedily, moving in for a kiss. “You’re incredible,” he whispered gruffly as he undid his pants quickly, shimmying himself out of his undergarments to finally stroke his cock. You watched the general, your leader in this battle against evil, line himself up with your entrance, and slowly push himself into you.

He hissed, your warmth and tightness overwhelming him. “Mmh, so perfectly tight,” he huffed into your ear before pulling out and thrusting back in harshly. Gods was he aggressive in the best way, brutally thrusting into your pussy as if he owned it already. His bruising grip tight on your thighs as he pushed them down, folding you in half for the best possible angle. “Rover, ahh,” he grunted, moving in close to suck and leave marks on your neck. You held onto him for dear life, clawing at his back, desperately trying to hold onto him. “H-harder please!” you whined into his ear, his pace quickened and his hips began slapping against you so hard, it echoed in the barely furnished room. Anyone outside would be able to hear the rough fucking that was happening right now but you didnt care. With the way Jiyans long cock nestled at you cervix everytime he thrust back in, a Threnodian army could bombard the encampment right now and you wouldn’t budge.

Your peak neared as he continued his thrusts, moaning and grunting everytime you clenched down, biting at your ear as you bared down so hard, he almost lost it. “Ah! I’m-“ your words caught in your thraot as you came, the blinding orgasm crashing into you like a truck. Jiyan’s hands came to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he leaned back to look down at you. Your fucked out expression, mouth hanging open with drool dripping down one corner of your mouth was all he needed to finally cum hard into you. He never lost eye contact with you, his mouth twisted into the most satisfied smile as he pumped his seed deep into you. You were certain you’d never in your life see someone as gorgeous as him in this moment. His eyes half lidded and dreamy, a cocky smirk on his face while sweat dripped from his brow, you had wished the two of you could fuck like this forever.

He helped you to sit up once he pulled out of you, leaving a trail of your mixed releases on the desk. His seed flowed out of you as you sat with your legs still spread, trying desperately to catch your breath. He chuckled and moved back to you, using his fingers to fuck his cum back into you. “I can’t think of anything more satisfying than you entering into battle full of my seed,” his fingers pumped into you over and over, causing you to claw at his chest, sure to leave trails of scratches on his beautifully defined body. “How much more of me can you take I wonder?” You moaned, another orgasm nearing as he dragged his fingers so deliciously inside of you. “As much as you want to give me general, “ you huffed out before spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

The two of you would fuck at least two more times before the battle, your cunt so full of him you started to feel it drip down between your legs as you fought. Once the fight was over, Jiyan tenderly picked you up, kissing and praising your prowess both in and out of battle, all the way back to HQ.

A/N: I’M-LISTEN JUST LEAVE ME ALONE 😭 id do anything for him and his cute blue pubes 🙏

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

HELLO!! How are you? I hope you are doing alright!Firstly,I LOVED the way you wrote angel dust.Would you be Okay writing sub angel dust? Like he is all horny and needy he touches himself but it doesnt works and made him more desperate for release so he literally begs to the reader(reader and him are dating) to suck him off till he is a whimpering mess pleasee(if you are ok with it of course)?? If you are not comfortable with it thats Okay just have a GREAT day and dont forget to show the world your pretty smile <33

Sweet release - Angel Dust x reader

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Hello! Thanks for the request!! I hope you like it!! ❤️

Words: ~1000 TW: oral (male receiving), masturbation

Angel's eyes darted between the dark ceiling, the clock and, well... you.

He knew you were tired. After all, you've been helping around the hotel so much in the past two weeks that you barely even slept anymore. This, combined with Valentino making him work more and more, you barely had time to spend with each other.

But this night he finally found you asleep back in your bed, probably relieved that you had finished most of your duties. It was already late when he returned, so deciding not to wake you up seemed like the right thing to do.

The only problem was that he missed you - a lot. Yes, he might have sex every day at work, but it never compared to the tender moments he spent with you. And besides, you were hot all the time, so he couldn't help it.

Angel sighed, glancing over at your sleeping form. As much as he put on the act, work had been draining. Every moan and groan he coaxed out of clients meant nothing, not compared to this — to you. Here, it wasn’t just a job. Here, it was real.

His cock was painfully hard underneath the blanket and the way you moved your butt against him surely didn't help either. Normally, you never opposed being woken up to sex, but he felt too guilty to disturb your sleeping after so many sleepless nights.

He tried everything - trying to fall asleep, thinking about less arousing stuff... Nothing helped. Irritated, he got up, making his way to the bathroom. Slowly, he got into the shower, the warm water making him return to his senses.

Desperately, he gripped the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down its length. A soft moan filled the bathroom at the relieving sensation. His mind was full of you, his eyes closed, allowing all of his fantasies to flood in.

His pace quickened, his cock twitching with every pump. Your name rolled out on his tongue just right, as his hips thrusted into his fist. It wasn't as good as it was when you helped him, but it was enough given the situation.

He ran his fingers over his tip, feeling his orgasm approaching fast. But just when he was about to feel the sweet release, the door to the bathroom opened.

His eyes met yours, a slight surprise on your face, though not something so out of the ordinary.

"Angie?" you asked, looking him up and down.

Angel's cock twitched in his hand, his eyes darting to you as you stepped into the bathroom. "Caught me at a bad time, babe," he teased, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his voice. You took a step closer, a sly smile playing on your lips. "Bad time? Looks like I'm right on time to me," you whispered, your fingers ghosting over his skin just enough to make him shiver. "Need some help?"

"I... Yeah... Please?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you got rid of your clothes, joining him in the bathroom.

"Didn't wanna bother ya... Thought ya needed your beauty sleep... Ya worked pretty hard after all." Angel said while leaning against the shower wall, his eyes on you with a rather needy expression on his face. He gently motioned you closer with one of his arms.

Your fingers slowly ran over his erect cock, earning a gasp from him, even though the sensation was not enough to satisfy him. "Aw, my sweet boy... I think you deserve something good after I neglected you for so long, hmm?" you teased, running your hand on his length a bit faster.

Angel whimpered, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. His eyes drifted from your hand to your face with a small smile. "Y-Yeah, p-pretty thing... Y-mm...you've been so busy, m-missing your touch."

"Yeah? And what would you want me to do, mm?"

His breath quickened as he leaned towards you, bucking his lips into your hand. "Oh, please..." your hand stopped, winning a whimper from him.

"What do you want me to do, pretty boy?"

His cheeks were all flustered, desperation gnawing at him. "Please, (Y/n)... Please suck me off... Do anything, really... I need ya..." He watched as you lowered yourself, the sight alone threatening to send him over the edge.

"Such a good boy..." you praised. Your lips wrapped around his tip, and Angel let out a shaky breath. His thighs trembled, and his hand slid down your neck, fingers curling slightly. Every stroke of your tongue sent sparks through his veins, and the way your lips moved down his length made him dizzy. He let out a desperate moan, barely able to keep his balance as you quickened your pace.

"Mm... yes... m'feels so good, ahh~"

Your hand wrapped around his base, trying to cover the rest of his length that wouldn't fit in your mouth. The soft insides of your mouth and the way your tongue moved against him were driving him crazy.

His fingers tangled into your hair, begging you to go faster. "Ah, please... Please baby, Ahh~~ I love yo- AH... Fuck~!"

You quickened your pace, his hips bucking into your mouth as he slightly gripped your hair. His moans filled the bathroom, his release threatening to get closer.

Angel’s breath hitched, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to ground himself. “Fuck, babe… Y-You’re really gonna ruin me, huh?” he gasped, his hand tightening in your hair. His hips bucked instinctively, every inch of him shaking as your mouth worked faster. “Ah—Fuck, yes!” His voice was rough, but underneath the moans, you could hear something raw, almost fragile. The sound of his name leaving your lips drove him mad. He let out a low whine, barely holding back. “I—shit, I love ya… gonna—ahhh fuck, I’m gonna—!”

With a loud moan, he pushed your head farther on his length, spilling his cum down your throat. Quickly, you cleared everything out, swallowing every drop of it.

"Fuck... Fuck, toots, you..." he tried to say in between breaths, the intensity of the orgasm still sending shivers through his body. "You're great...."

You got up, softly placing a kiss on his lips. "How about we take a shower and then return to bed?"

"Sounds great, babe..." he smirked at you, wrapping his arms around his body.

"But I might not be done with ya for the night, y'know?"

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xghostnuggsx @vxllys

@ustulia

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2024 Day 16

Costume Party or Sleepover Party

Because of Dethzazz, I'm convinced Toki has confided in Skwisgaar stuff that he hasn't told the rest of Dethklok. They just have that Scandinavian bond, you know?

And, like I said the other day, I'm a big fan of Toki's early days in Dethklok so here's another entry focusing on that!

Toki hugged a pillow, reluctantly glancing at Skwisgaar’s profile. “Ams this reallies okays?” He eventually asked. 

“Ja.” Skwisgaar said, looking at the old digital alarm clock by his night table. 2 AM.

He was sleeping, or at least attempting to, wearing nothing but a couple of white briefs when Toki stormed into his room. The youngest claimed he had seen something horrible in his sleep and that he couldn’t stay in his room for the night. 

It was not a first for Toki to want to stay in Skwisgaar’s room instead of his own. In fact, the kid appeared to be pretty fond of Skwisgaar, often choosing to spend time with him over the rest of his bandmates. It was only the slightest bit endearing, that Toki seemed to hold him in such high regard. 

As for Skwisgaar, he couldn’t deny he too enjoyed having a fellow Scandinavian that shared his passion for the guitar. And, he’d never admit this to him out loud, but Toki had a bit of a charm that made him very easy to like. So, it wasn’t hard for Skwisgaar to exercise some patience with him.

“And yous not mads about this?” 

“No.” Skwisgaar turned around, glancing at the ceiling.

“You sures?”

“Ja.”

“Reallies?”

“Ja.”

“Reallies?!”

“Toki!” Skwisgaar chuckled and Toki pretty much instantly deflated.

“Sorries…” Toki said, looking down.

“It ams okays.” Skwisgaar laid on his side, his face resting on one hand. “Yous always saying dats. Whys?”

“Sorries? Wells, yeah, I cants helps it-”

“No, nots dat. Well, dats too buts, eugh…” Skwisgaar gestured at the air. “I was referrings to how you always asks if people ams mad.”

“Oh.” Toki straightened up all of sudden. “Uh…”

Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unsure if he should inquire any further. 

The pillow sitting on Toki’s lap tightened under his arms. “It ams…weirds to explains…” He said, still averting his gaze.

“Eugh, you dont has to talks if you donts wants it…” Skwisgaar’s eyes strayed into the darkness he was slowly growing accustomed to. “I ams not goods with de emotionals bits anyway.”

“My moms and dads…they was always mads at me…” Toki continued regardless. “Always lookings angry and disappointed. And the adults in the town, too. They lookeds at me like I was trash. I never understands what I did dat makes them all so mad…” He let out a shiver and Skwisgaar could tell he was shaking. 

“Tokes,” Skwisgaar reached out to him. “You really donts-”

“When I tries to makes friends with the kids, they was nice to mes and I has funs…but thens come another days they avoids me too. They hates me and I asks them why but they wouldnt even looks at me…” 

Skwisgaar just stared at his silhouette in silence. He had sort of gathered that Toki’s childhood wasn’t great though at this point that pretty much seemed like a requirement to be a great musician. This definitely seemed a bit out of the ordinary, however. 

“There was a girl…from the church…” Even with the dim light, Skwisgaar could make out the faint smile on Toki’s face. “She mades me feels like…something I never felts before. She was different, I thoughts…She was specials…”

Already dreading the rest of the story, Skwisgaar asked. “Ands?”

“I brings her a flower to tell her my feelings and she…drops it. She seems scareds of me, I thinks. When I asks why, she says beings wif me is bad omens. But I still dont understands the reasons…”

At this point, Skwisgaar was completely sat up, almost scared to break the silence with a noise.

“She says dere ams something wrongs wif mes…dats no one can fix.” Toki said in a choked up voice. “And I will always be alones…no one wills…” His head hung down and he placed his pillow in front of his face to hide it. The bed trembled despite Skwisgaar not moving at all. 

Skwisgaar placed a hand on Toki’s shoulder. He knew there was nothing he could say to take back all those years of loneliness and abandonment. He knew that very well. There was something he could give him, though.

“We ams not like dems.” He said softly. “We ams not going to starts hatins you one days. Dat ams imposskibles.”

Sniffing, Toki turned to him. “Yous promise?”

Skwisgaar smiled. “Ja, littol dildo. You gotsa play guitars for us now, remembers?”

Toki giggled. “Thats true.” After a pause, he added. “Yous so easy to talks to, Skwisgaar.”

“Pfft, I doubts that.” Skwisgaar said, remembering his mother chastising him for being the complete opposite.

“Ams serious!” Toki dropped the pillow. “Moidaface ams always saying yous an asshole…”

“Whats?! He says dats?!” Skwisgaar squinted. “Dat littol-”

“He ams wrong.” Toki shrugged with a smile. “I feels I can tell anythings to yous.”

“Eugh, dats a bits…”

Toki got under the covers without losing the smile. “Now you tells me something abouts you.”

“Euh, euh…” Skwisgaar quickly tried to look for a fact about himself that wasn’t too revealing nor too humiliating. “My first loves was de fats, olds libraries ladys from my school.”

Laughing hysterically, Toki rolled on the bed. “No ways!”

Skwisgaar snorted. “Ja, I loves when she leans towards me with her old ladies perfumes ands…”

Like that, Skwisgaar started telling Toki a bunch of random trivia about himself. Some of them factual, some of them a bit embellished but Toki seemed entertained all the same, nodding along and encouraging him to continue at every turn. Skwisgaar didn’t know anyone would be so interested in him, not for his musical skills or his sexual prowess, but just for being himself. 

Toki’s town was right about him, in a way. 

He was one of a kind. 

[thenightfolknetwork]

im worried i might have ruined my friendship with my best friend?? we've known each other since we were little and we've always been close, when i got turned he was the first person i told and he's been SO supportive. he's a member of the community (though he wasnt turned, he was born into his genus) and he introduced me to all his creature friends and really made me feel welcome.

but then, here's the thing. we were hanging out the other night and i guess one thing led to another and i kind of ended up…. feeding on him. he asked me to!! he was really into it and so was i... at the time.

but the next morning…. idk it was just weird. everything was so awkward. we havent spoken about it since and i dont know what i should do. i dont mind if he doesn't want to do it again - it was fun, but not fun enough to ruin a friendship over. only now im worried we might have ruined the friendship already… what should i do??

I think you may be jumping the gun here rather, my dear. I don't see anything in your letter to suggest that you've already ruined the friendship. This is certainly a complicated and delicate situation, and you will need to navigate it with kindness, honesty and respect. But it is navigable, and I have every faith in your ability to find a way through.

Feeding on another person is naturally a very intimate experience. This is especially true when one feeds for pleasure rather than need, as seems to have been the case here.

But intimacy is a part of friendship. Who you speak to about this problem or that, who you share this secret with, who you hug upon meeting and who you kiss on the cheek, whether or not you feel comfortable sharing a room or a bed – these are all questions of intimacy, and are an ordinary part of any friendship.

The details of this situation are, of course, different. The physical intimacy of direct feeding is compounded by the emotional intimacy of being so open about your liminal nature, all mixed up with the profound importance this friendship has for you. But the basic steps are the same.

Take some time to reflect on your own feelings. Give yourself permission to be entirely honest. It's alright that you enjoyed yourself. It's alright if you'd like to feed on your friend again. And it's alright if you don't! There are no correct answers here – only honest ones.

Once you're clear about what you want, you need to talk with your friend. Arrange a time to meet somewhere that you'll both feel comfortable, and let him know what you want to talk about. This isn't the sort of conversation you want to spring on someone without warning.

From there, you need to listen carefully and work together to find a way through. It may be an awkward conversation, but better one awkward conversation than letting your silence swallow this friendship entire.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[bonkbobl]

distraction

ROOSE BOLTON X READER

gif not mine

a/n: so this was the story i wrote like several weeks ago that got deleted by tumblr. i finally got the motivation to rewrite it (bc like i think everything but the last bit got deleted)

summary: roose bolton indulges his urges with lower born northern girls — by no means is this a very well kept secret. he stole your first night from you and your husband, just as he has done with many others in the past, but this time you remain cemented in his mind months after. that is out of the ordinary.

warning: mentions of previous dubious consent situations, no huge smut scenes but smutty descriptions of past memories, unplanned pregnancy, some bits of self hate and shame, take that trigger warning seriously!! reader was a victim of SA from roose and theres a lot of conflicting feelings, cheating depending on your pov but i dont think it counts bc she had no choice, roose is very much not the good guy here please be aware, a lot of victim blaming

Roose doesnt know when he began to care for you. It certainly wasnt that first time he saw you, bathing naked in the river. And it definitely wasn’t when you and your husband showed up at the Dreadfort asking your liege lords blessing for marriage.

Of course, he knew in both instances, he craved you.

A craving that should have been satisfied when he exercised the first night rights. No, somehow between the your first night and now, he had begun to yearn for you again. That night far from expelled you from his mind.

Only a couple times, Roose saw himself riding out of the Dreadfort and he’d see you outside, hanging clothes on a line or tending to some animals.

You’d always spot him, then quickly pretend as if you didn’t, probably praying to each and every God that he wouldn't come by to see you.

In truth, it didn’t matter much whether he stopped by or not. The damage had already been done and there was little his visit could do to worsen things. Your wedding night had ruined your marriage. It was something you had been coming to terms with over the past couple of months.

At first, you had tried your best to console your husband. The experience took a toll on both of you — he had refused your bed for almost a month afterward and after weeks of patience, you were finally able to have a real wedding night.

He was gentle and slow and kind, a noticeable contrast to how roughly Roose took you. You felt ashamed even comparing in the privacy of your own mind, but you thought it before you could even realize how much you hated the idea.

You loved and cared for your husband. He loved and cared for you. He treated you delicately and respectfully, as a husband should. It just wasn't quite as exciting as the passion, the rough kisses, the biting. He almost seemed afraid to touch you.

He’d asked you after you made love, how it was. You braved a smile and nodded, telling him it was wonderful.

Then he pressed, “Better than…”

And inside, your heart shattered, wondering if thats really all he cared about in that moment. With a faltered smile, you nodded again, though it was a lie and in his eyes, you could tell he knew.

When days later you had a more heated argument about the same topic, he revealed he’d been sat outside the door the entire time you laid with Lord Bolton.

That shut your mouth and you stared at the ground wordlessly as he continued to shout at you. Why would he? You thought but you knew your indignation was misplaced. It doesn't make sense why he'd willingly submit himself to the that experience of listening to your lord claim you, but it also didn't make sense why you sounded the way you did while it was happening.

Why did you?

He made a cot in your kitchens and you whimpered, tears spilling into the sheets that you were supposed to share as husband and wife. He didn't share your bed ever again. Granted, it's only been a couple of weeks since you consummated your marriage — you could understand if things just take time.

You were wracked by guilt. But you also had a great deal or resentment and anger building by the time Robb Starks war came about. You spent the length of your marriage comforting your husband over your assault. How is that right?

But the guilt… the guilt never stopped. You close your eyes and you can feel him if you try hard enough — Roose. Feel him kissing, feel him rubbing you down there, and when he made you get on top...

It was shameful.

When the North began to rally for the King in the North, any help was appreciated, even from an untrained soldier such as your husband, even from a simple farmers wife such as yourself. Anyone can do the least bit to help.

You did what little you were permitted to do — cooking for the soldiers, cleaning, dressing wounds. Having things to do with your hands took your mind off of your messy personal life. For a little bit.

It was only a matter of time before you started to feel his gaze on you. Everywhere you went.

Of course, you had expected to see him. But you had also expected him to ignore you.

You expected that if you were to ever approach him, it would cause a huge upset. Everyone knew he almost had his bastard's mother flogged when she brought her baby boy to the Dreadfort and you had no intention of meeting that fate. You thought, all the better for you. He wont seek you out and you would never put yourself through having to look in his face again. Every time you closed your eyes, you could already imagine him on top of you, and how he felt inside you.

It was especially difficult to keep those images off your mind because still, your husband refused your bed, keeping two separate cots in your shared tent.

You're a shameful little thing. Letting your mind wander from your marriage. To the man who ruined it no less...

No such luck met you, however and your expectations to be left alone were subverted.

Roose noticed his bad habit of turning up whereever you seemed to be as well and no matter how he tried to cull it, he'd still find himself wandering a little too close to your tent and the medical wing of camp where he was scarcely needed.

A few times, he'd spoken to you and you always kept your head down, ignoring the heat that would tease at your cunt or the way your stomach would twist at the sound of his deep voice. Only "Yes, milord," "Straight away, milord," "Of course, milord." One time he had even went as far as to compliment you on a job well done, serving the Northern Cause, and you still didn't budge to look up at him, gritting out a particularly bitter, "Thank you, my lord."

You truly were getting more and more bitter by the day. You felt quicker to anger — fed up by your husband, and seemingly unable to escape the watchful eye of your liege lord. You wondered why at first. Now you think, he must get some kind of high from it — from knowing that he was in many ways a part of you now, ingrained in your mind, a constant presence in your marriage. You wondered if he'd ever get tired of this petty humiliation.

You would snap. You were sure of it. One day, you'll say unpretty words, unbecoming of a farmer's wife. You could feel it even when you were alone, trying to unwind. You'd find yourself thinking of a scenario in which you'd be allowed to give him a piece of your mind, and sometimes you'd mutter curses to nothing but the wind as you knitted. You were wound up unbelievably so. You could hardly conceive of a time you felt more anger in you this frequently.

It nearly came to a head when your husband stumbled into your shared tent one afternoon and started clawing at your body. You had been laying on the bed, reading, grateful for a moment of solitude.

It was mid day and he already stunk of ale.

He took the book out of your hands and began kissing up your neck and you shoved him right off, storming out into the open air, furious at his lack of disrespect. Tears already pricking at your eyes.

Of course, you had been hoping he'd warm up to you and come to you one night. You'd talk it through — talk about both your individual feelings. You'd apologize for the cruel words you'd spoken to each other and start making love, start looking forward to the future you'd promised each other. You'd start trying to build a family. You'd begin making love regularly.

All these fantasies in your head — and he just stumbles in one day wanting to stick his dick somewhere.

You had only made it a few meters outside, the loud hustle of the war encampment, driving you even further up the wall. Your mind is too loud. Each day is feeling more and more like a dream rather than your life. Its all too overwhelming.

Your husbands grasp on your wrist halted you and you turned. He brought you in close, his stench absolutely putrid and you could hardly even recognize the boy you agreed to marry — the boy who was so gentle with the little pigs and sheep, who always wanted to feed them when he came to the farm to see you. All in a couple months, spoiled rotten.

"Aye, where d 'ya think you're goin, little lady?"

You snatched your wrist away forcefully, though you didn't need to be so aggressive. His movements were as slurred as his voice and a gentle pull would have loosened his grasp enough.

"I'm not in the mood," You hissed. "You don't talk to me most days now, you haven't shared my bed in weeks, and now you think you can climb on top of me stinking of ale..."

Anger flared behind your husbands eyes, "C'mon. You'll just end up enjoy'en it anyway."

Nothing but hurt stabbed at your heart as you moved away from him, "You act like this all happened to you. That you were hurt, that someone took something from you. You never showed any care for my wellbeing once.” You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes and you moved to storm off from him. “I'll talk to you later. When you're sober."

“Come back here you slut—” Was the last you heard and the last you saw was his hand raising. You turned and ducked.

When you turned, you ran into a firm chest, the hands attached to the man steadied you with a firm hand on your waist. Your husband flinched back when he saw the figure behind you, lowering his hand, but not without a bitter laugh. And you looked up, only needing a microsecond to realize who it was. You promptly, pushed yourself off him, nearly tripping over yourself doing so.

His deep voice rang out before you could start back on your feet, "Is there a problem, my lady?"

"Everything is fine," You held your gaze on the ground, begging that he'd just stay out of this so you can go and leave without creating a scene.

But he didn't see your urgency to leave. He saw your tears. He showed very little visible reaction to this very awkward and unfortunate situation, but you could sense that he was taking this far too seriously for your liking. As you moved to disengage, your husband had to get a last word in.

"It's alright, Lord Bolton. The whore is yours if you'd still like," Your husband, Mister Kent, yelled. Kent, you could hardly stand to share his name anymore.

Your face grew hot, suddenly aware of the eyes on you and you slipped away quickly, feet moving you swiftly to the tree line behind the camp. Roose had little awareness of those watching, simply scoffing at your husbands theatrics before turning to attend to what mattered more in the moment. You.

He called your name once and you kept speeding off, wiping your nose, your face. You refuse to cry.

He called your name a second time, sounding more irritated at your attitude — to think you were making him run after you — and this time, you gave him an answer. You turned and with all the hatred you could muster in you, you uttered a firm, "Don't."

Roose's hard eyes softened, only slightly, but the determination to catch up to you had faded away. With a simple nod, he watched as you finally ran off, seeking your much needed solitude.

Even long after you were already gone, he still thought about you. It was the first time he'd seen real resistance in you and to be truthful, it puzzled him far more than he'd care to admit out loud. He had stepped in, as your legal protector, as any good lord would have and instead of showing gratitude, you were angry at him.

Anyone else wouldn't have dared to speak to him in the ways that you have.

This created conflict — for one thing, he was understanding more and more what a liability to you were. A distraction at first, but the more he permitted himself to see you, the more troublesome you become.

Roose isn't a man to concern himself with peacocking and flitting about pretentiously drunk on power. But he was feared and respected. And he didn't get to be feared and respected by associating himself with beautiful young peasant girls. He didn't make grown me tremble in their boots at the sound of his name by letting little peasant girls talk back to him freely.

This distraction...

You could prove to be more trouble than you're worth. Of the few times he's seen you, he attempted to pay you no mind but sometimes, his eyes wander. Sometimes he's thinking about something more important and he realizes he's looking at you.

Your hair is always done up with a dirty little scarf. Sometimes it wouldn't be done up very securely — locks of hair falling in front of your face as you worked. In those moments it was difficult to look away.

Sometimes you'd wear these milkmaid dresses that you'd usually save for the warmer summer days when you'd work on your farm. And your straps might loosen over your shoulder, falling. You'd have to adjust it back in the right place after completing your task. Those dresses surely complimented your figure in ways that Roose imagined would make even a maester blush.

Your perfect little body looked even better, bare, in the dim firelight. His roaming hands were the best accessory — the best clothing — to compliment and accentuate your curves. The marks he left on you were better than any precious metals or gemstones you could adorn yourself with.

Just remembering what you looked like after he was done with you — chest heaving, warm, sweating and worn out, lips and cunt both so puffy and swollen, and doing nothing as his cum started to threaten to spill out of you. Your mind was wracked with the confusion of actually having had enjoyed it. And when you watched him push his spend back into the hole from where it was trying to escape, that action almost made you want more. He could see it in your beautiful flushed face.

Those memories are enough to make him completely forget himself and lose his train of thought when he sees you.

He'll be noticing you from afar and before he knows it, he's only a few paces from you, looking down at you with nothing to say but some arbitrary order that he'd come up with on the spot — fetch water, bring milk of the poppy for one of the generals, help the women prepare dinner.

You're one hell of a distraction.

Roose considered having you and your husband sent home from the war effort. It would have been the most practical solution. If the king is already flitting about with the Volantis Princess, the North cannot afford so many side tracked leaders.

And yet, he cant help but feel some vague sense of responsibility to you.

Perhaps if it were any other man, this was to be expected, but Roose has bedded many women under the old first night tradition and never paid a second thought to any of them. They were all just his subjects. He'd protect them, he'd do his duty, he'd take what was rightfully his, and he'd punish them if they refused him, but he had more important matters to concern himself with.

Definitely more important than a petty dispute between wife and husband. Though it left a distinctly bad taste in his mouth to think that your husband might be mistreating you in any way, calling you debasing names. Gods forbid, he's been misusing you — Roose knows there isn't a scarcity of husbands that subject their wife to all their most debased urges. Especially when there isn't a good amount of respect between them and it doesn't seem to him that your husband particularly carries much respect for you.

For that man to raise a hand to you.

Roose scoffed at Mister Kent's behavior. He supposes it's partially his fault, perhaps mostly. Or entirely. Not that he'd usually particularly care.

It's just that Mister Kent had an especially blatant disregard for your honor. That the man could even think he had the right to treat you as if you were below him when you were more valuable to the northern cause than he could ever hope to be — it baffled Roose.

Because thats what this was about. The North. Your husband is one foot soldier. You keep the army fed and medicated.

He reasoned with himself, that it's a part of his oaths to protect those small folk that reside in his lands. That includes farmers wives when their husbands aren't honoring the oaths they took at the altar. It wasn't personal. It was something he had overlooked in the past that he'll aim to rectify.

—————

You wiped some sweat from your brow, nodding kindly to the lady next to you, who brought you a fresh tray of bowls to fill. Then on your other side, another woman scurried up to you, tapping your shoulder.

She looked younger, slightly nervous.

“What is it?” You asked, turning with concern.

She spoke quickly, “Lord Bolton ordered me to pass a message,” her mousy accented voice barely audible as the other ladies rushed to get food to the hungry mouths of the men.

You flinched backward, confusion all over your face, but you leaned in anyway. You’d let the poor frightened girl complete her task. Your distaste for Lord Bolton doesn’t have to translate to her.

“Milord said to tell you that your belongings have been moved to a new tent, apart from your husbands, and that from now on, when we are to move camp, you should maintain this change.”

You stared at her, open mouthed, with brows knitted together in frustration, “Where?”

“Next to Milord’s, I believe. N-next to Lord Bolton’s own tent.”

Taking in a deep breath, you moved to turn back to your task. You'd worry about it later... But the offense had already set into your mind and your jaw clenched tightly. Opening your mouth, your original intent was to sternly thank her for delivering the message to you. She’s simply the messenger. You refuse to react and push the negativity of your reaction onto her.

But a surge of anger rose to your throat and you stifled your movements and words, taking a moment to collect yourself and think about it. Yes, this girl is simply the messenger. You should take your grievances to the man.

You nodded politely at the girl, “Thank you. Could you...” You gestured at the cauldron that you had been manning and nodded toward it pointedly, “Just for a moment. I need to speak find Lord Bolton and speak to him about why such changes have been made.”

“Of course, my lady,” She curtsied and rushed to take over your job for you.

You stopped in your tracks just as you were about to leave. “I’m not— Theres no need for formalities. I’m not a lady. We are neighbors if I am not mistaken. Your tavern is not far from my husbands farm.”

She nodded, hesitant, but conceded, “Of course… Its just… Lord Bolton—”

“Has overstepped greatly,” You finished.

She refused to respond, simply nodding in acknowledgment of your opinion. You’re brave to speak against your liege lord in such a manner.

You took your leave quickly, trying to find your way to the Lords and Ladies table as swiftly as possible. Perhaps there was still a way to reverse this change before anyone else takes notice and rumors begin to swirl.

Right next to his tent. What was he thinking? Did he simply aim to humiliate you— Humiliate your husband more? Was what damage has already been done not satisfactory— that he must shame you not only in the eyes of your husband but the entire North?

You were never meant to garner attention. A simple farmers wife was the life you thought you’d be destined for. And that was happy.

He’s spoiling it all.

You stepped up to the table, heart beating loudly in your chest, the fear feeling more like rushing adrenaline due to the fury underlying. “My Lord,” You greeted, trying to stay as respectful as possible.

Roose turned to you, as did your king, Robb Stark, Catelyn Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Rodrick Cassel, Rickard Karstark, and Greatjon Umber. Just as they did, Most of them had turned back to their previous conversations, passing you off as a servant girl with no doubt a simple question regarding something logistic. A fair assumption. And you were grateful for their dismissal. It made it less nerve-wracking.

Roose raised his brows at you. The only one of his companions that maintained an interest in you was Lady Stark, who looked to him for his reaction, and back at you.

“May I speak with you? Alone?” You pressed.

Roose looked you up and down, slightly amused by how ticked off you appeared to be. Pursing his lips and continuing to chew on the veal you and your ladies had prepared, he shrugged, “Whatever you have to say, surely, can be said now. You have no secrets to keep from the mother of the King, I’d hope?”

You glanced at Catelyn who still watched you curiously, then back at Roose. Taking a deep breath, and sighing it out, you kept your glaring eyes trained on him. “You had no right,” You held your ground firmly. The boldness of your words attracting the interest of the others once again, and despite the building pressure of those eyes watching you, you steeled yourself, holding to your purpose, “No right, My Lord," And through your words, you decided to add, "R-respectfully,” to soften your tone. Though it was only out of fear, not because you actually respected the man.

“No right to do what?” He challenged, icy blue eyes not budging a single bit.

You were taken aback, shaking your head and recoiling into yourself as if you were disgusted by him — which you were. You kept reminding yourself to be disgusted with him. He’s a disgusting man. Stubborn, always needs to get his way, arrogant, assertive, pragmatic, effective, dominant.

Though you couldn't help the bit of desire for him that you felt. It rose like bile in your throat just like every other time, but unlike every other time, the disgust that you'd usually feel toward yourself turned to anger, directed at the man in front of you.

“You—” But your next words died on your lips and you took in another deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were already bold for talking to him in an accusatory manner. You cant afford to curse at him or say all the things you want to say. Not with all these eyes on you. “I wish to share my tent with my husband. You had me moved. Without my consent.”

He gave you a look of faux consideration, as if he were truly listening to you and considering a change in his actions but you knew he wasn’t. He was condescending, “I seem to remember this is the same husband who stumbles around, a drunken fool, and raises his hand to his wife in front of not only his fellow soldiers but his liege lord.”

“Convenient picture, you paint,” You seethed, articulating each word with venom, no longer trying to hide any disrespect.

“Was there a lie in my words? Does he not hurt you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Dont pretend you care. Not now. Don't you fucking dare. “Well—" Yes, but would have been your next words but you bit your tongue. The point of this wasn't to debate your husbands behavior toward you. You, yourself found it distasteful. You should focus on the matter at hand which is that you don't want to be so close to this man. "I’ll have my own tent then. If it pleases you, My Lord,” Your words still full of spite, “But you’ll have my belongings moved again so that I’m not right next to you.”

Catelyn’s mouth parted and she stared at the man beside her. You kept your eyes stubbornly trained on Roose, looking at him with great offense and sass in your eyes, as if to ask him with just a simple movement of your head, what the fuck were you thinking?

Roose smiled, mostly to himself. Strangely your boldness did nothing to anger him. He expected some more gratitude, maybe. But you’re spirited. For some reason that excites him.

“No,” He said simply, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, “That won’t happen.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, entire face stiff with anger. “I don’t know what you expect,” You asked, “A thank you?”

“It would be appreciated. When your liege grants a favor—“

“A favor, ” You laughed, growing more audacious by the second, but your tone became mocking “A favor out of the goodness of your own hear—”

“Yes, it was a favor,” Roose said, more stern than he had been for the rest of the conversation.

Your expression settled into a hard frown, realizing yourself and your lack of power in this situation. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“And you’d do well to remember not to interrupt a Lord whilst he is speaking.”

You stared stubbornly for a moment, eyes narrowing in on him, challengingly. Then a few moments passed without a word between either of you.

Finally, you surrendered, valuing your head above your pride, “As you wish, My Lord. Thank you.” But the submissiveness of your words could not hide the unmistakeable snark in your tone.

Without granted leave, you turned on your heel and stormed right back off from where you came.

Roose sat back in his chair, ignoring the few lingering gazes of his peers. Though Karstark and Umber quickly busied themselves with their previous interrupted conversation with the younger Greyjoy, the King spared him one last curious look before joining their round of jibes against each other.

It was Lady Starks stare that bore uncomfortably into Roose’s profile.

But he paid it as little attention as possible. He took to his neglected meal and cut another slice of that veal. Stone faced, but thinking about your angry little face. The bite and the snark behind your voice. How badly, did he want to stand and take you right back to his tent and make you understand just how passionate he really was about your protection and safety. Just how capable he is of providing it, unlike that pitiful husband of yours.

As he chewed, the dreadful little realization started to tease at his mind. That perhaps this distraction was spiraling a little far beyond his control.

But the image of your angry, eyes softening as you lay beneath him… the fury dissipating into pleasure, it was more than enough to convince him that control over himself was not what was at the forefront of his mind, nor did he want it be. His desire was beginning to win over his will.

He’ll have you. And you’ll welcome it.

—————

Your days were spent mostly to yourself. Regretfully, you were actually quite thankful for the change in living arrangements. You no longer had to interact with your husband, who had become a near constant anxiety before. And Roose kept his distance for you — perhaps he's gotten the hint...

You could only hope that was the case.

One morning ripped you from your idyllic independence when you found yourself running and wretching into the nearest empty vessel nearly the moment you stood from your bed. You threw up two more times that morning before you gave in and asked a nurse to give you something for the sickness.

That inevitably led to the conversation you had been dreading since the moment you woke up.

"When did you last bleed?"

"I..." You paused to think on it but it couldn't come to you. Two cycles must have passed you by without you even realizing because three moons ago was as recent as you could think of.

Then a new anxiety began to build in you. Because you distinctly remember your husband never consummated your marriage until a mere couple weeks ago — more than a month after your wedding night.

"I'm not sure."

"The sickness means you've had it for probably a bit less than two months now," She informed you, counting on her fingers, "half a month for the babe to take hold, and then the mother gets sick after another month. Half a month for those with a more fragile countenance."

"Is there any way it could have started within two or three weeks?"

Her brows furrowed confusedly for a moment before the gears began to turn in the woman's head and her expression soured to vague pity, though she stepped back from you, almost as if your shame could be contagious. She shook her head lightly, and full of judgement, "There is always moon tea."

Moon tea was exactly what your husband suggested when you told him later. Though you shocked yourself when the a creeping reluctance rose to the front of your mind.

Mister Kent detected your hesitation almost immediately. Before you could fully process your own thoughts and feelings on the matter, he was invigorated by his personal mission to kill the mere idea of you possibly keeping the child.

"You can't mean to say you actually want to keep it?"

All you did was glare, unsure of yourself. "I don't know."

"How can't you know?"

"I don't know," You repeated, stepping back from the man that you once loved. "I don't know if I want to."

"What could possibly make you want to keep it?"

You scoffed at him, "It's still my child," you tried to reason, anything that would get him to empathize, even a little bit, with you. But it was to no avail, you were quickly realizing. He hardly ever really cares to see things from your view.

"It's not mine."

"That fact doesn't negate what I just said," You shot back, brows furrowing frustratedly at his selfishness.

"You'd have me raise another man's bastard?"

"We are married."

"We won't be if you have that bastard."

And there, you let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. You smiled humorlessly to yourself, scoffing once again at the situation.

"You can't possibly have thought that I would be amenable to this,” he filled the silence

You simply shook your head because no, you didn't think he would be happy. Of course he wouldn't be happy. But this was the point of no return. If you were to keep the child, there'd be no mending your relationship with him.

Overcome with some bout of sentiment, you took a good look at his face, trying to remember any reason you should pick him over your unborn child — nothing but a bundle of cells right now but probably more capable of truly loving you than this man ever would have been. For a moment you even felt the creeping feeling that you were grateful the child wasn't your husbands.

"I need time to think about it," You spoke carefully, so as not to antagonize him but also not to give him hope.

He rolled his eyes.

For you, that had done it. You still weren't entirely sure if you'd keep the child but next time you spoke to your husband, you'd bring up the question of an annulment. You didn't wait for whatever response he might have before leaving.

—————

Roose caught you just in the corner of his eye. He'd watched you enough to recognize you by the way you walked — or paced, was more accurate to describe it. You were always pacing from place to place, anxiously. He diverted his gaze away from Catelyn Stark who was speaking to him about something mundane, something to do with the Kingslayer, their most recent and most valuable bargaining chip.

You escaped his view as quickly as you came in, disappearing angrily into your tent. You're always upset. At least this time it has little to do with him. He's been giving you some much needed space for a little while.

He knew he stared just a little bit too much when he turned back to Catelyn in front of him and saw her looking to their side, at the little slit of fabric through which you disappeared. Then she looked back at him, curiously.

Roose smiled politely, silently urging her to go on, and hoping the damned woman wouldn't nose around.

"She's pretty, that one."

"Yes," Roose hummed, mentally cursing himself for being a little too careless, "The wife of a farmer. They live about a quarter hour ride south of the Dreadfort."

Catelyn hummed too, eyebrows moving upward awkwardly. "A-and how did you come to be acquainted... with this farmers wife?"

Roose stalled for less than a second before coming up with some farce. It wasn't difficult to think up a simple lie. Although it was barely a lie, simply an omission of most of the truth, "Her father was the Dreadfort's main supplier of milk. And eggs."

"Ah..." Catelyn nodded, and Roose knew she only accepted that answer as a courtesy, clearly aware that there was more to the story. "And her husband..."

Roose rolled his eyes at the mere mention of Mister Kent, "A drunk."

Catelyn smiled a bit at that, eyes narrowing with skepticism, "Unfortunate." She then cautiously pushed, "You seem rather attached to—"

Roose took a deep impatient inhale, causing Lady Stark to quickly drop the subject.

"I take it you were good friends with this girls father. And the only reason you seem to be so protective is because of that friendship..."

The impatient Dreadlord spared Lady Stark a look of incredulity. He wondered why she’d try to come up with a cover story for him when they both know she believes something else — when they both know the reality is something else.

"I would hope that is why, Lord Bolton," She addressed his disbelief, "This girl... She seems to have a kind heart, a strength and resilience, if you will."

For a moment, Roose's irritation blended into pure amusement at why Catelyn Stark would even begin to lecture him on what kind of person you were but she left no room for Roose to speak in protest.

"She is firey."

Roose chuckled, "Yes."

Yes, you are. Even the night he took you, you tried to hold your chin up high and face him. And you did, you glared at him as he entered you, your hardened, angry eyes wavering with each thrust until your furrowed brows knitted together with pleasure replacing your stubborn resistance.

"Don't dishonor her," Catelyn stated her point, finally.

For a moment, Roose scarcely knew what to say. It was a long moment, longer than it would usually take for him to generate a response.

Don't dishonor her.

He's afraid it might be too late. All those things Catelyn had said about you, after only bearing witness to a single heated interaction between the two of you, were all true. They were all things he came to learn about you slowly, all things that made it even harder to forget you or cast you aside.

It was in that moment that Roose came to the realization that while your husband wasn't a very good man, he might objectively be much worse. Well this wasn't the moment he realized that, of course the head of the house with the flayed man on their banners would be a slightly more rough around the edges than a simple cattle farmer.

But he committed a grave crime against your honor. Your husband has also sullied your honor in different ways, but he could hardly claim that he has treated you the way you really deserved to be treated.

"I'll try not to," Roose responded with a nod, and walked toward your tent.

Hopefully there was still time enough to rectify his mistake. He really shouldn't have let his desires get the better of him so easily. The moment he saw you, he knew he had to have you. It always goes like this. Its never ended with some strange sort of sentiment developing — that just wasn't the type of man Roose was. Not until now.

"My lady," Roose said once, trying to alert you of his presence outside your tent.

Upon hearing his familiar, deep voice, you looked up from your spot on your cot. You wiped your face of the few tears you'd allowed yourself to shed and scooted off the bed, but you hesitated for a moment.

Do you really wish to speak to him? All this pain caused by him. You should tell him to fuck off right back from where he came.

"My lady," The voice said, more firmly this time and with that signature tint of irritation that you'd come to know so well.

You sighed. You should speak to him about these matters. It concerns him. You're not going to get rid of the child, you couldn't bring yourself to. Inexplicably so, the thought of having a child to take care of, running around you, carefree and smiling, outweighed any hatred you may hold for that child’s father.

If your lord is kind, he'd give you an allowance like he did his bastard's mother, perhaps even allow you to reside in the Dreadfort. You could raise your child to be better than the men you've known in your life.

You went and opened the flaps of the tent, cocking your head to signal him in. He stopped as the tent closed behind him and you stood there with your eyes trained to his chest, waiting for him to take more steps inside. It remained as such for a second, then two, and you stood, confused as to why he was just standing in front of you instead of moving inside to the table set up in the center.

He took off his glove and you watched his hand come up to touch your chin. He tilted your face up, your eyes met his, observing as he inspected you. He looked down to consider something, and then met your eyes again promptly, a strange hesitance in them.

It fascinated and scared you at the same time. To see Roose in a somber mood. Skepticism remained on your face, waiting for some punchline.

"What do you want?"

His lips parted for a slow inhale, the closest thing he’d permit himself to a sigh. A sudden rush of heat felt as if it struck him in the chest. You were all he could want. If you caught on to his reaction to your words, you didn't say anything.

"I... wanted to apologize," and it was the first time you ever felt really shocked by anything Lord Bolton said or did.

Everyone to the east of Winterfell heard tale of the cruelty of the leech lord, not even his insistence on taking your first night managed to surprise you. But this... You suddenly wanted to listen.

"I fear I've behaved unseemly toward you, disregarded your honor. For this, I ask your forgiveness."

You realized he was finished and closed your open mouth, searching for an answer. You felt that he expected you to forgive him. But in truth you didn't really want to. "I don't think it's really that simple, my lord. I appreciate the sentiment but... I..." You huffed, looking down, frustrated at your ineloquence today. But he caught you off guard with this and you hadn't rehearsed an angry response to an apology ever.

His gaze was still fixed on you as he readjusted the weight he was placing on his feet, the first ever signs of desperation obvious in his body language and you couldn't say you ever thought him capable of this range of emotions — that in it self was impressive. For the first time, he was squirming, awaiting your words instead of you hiding away from his.

"I cant forgive you so easily. Not for this."

"Well what can I do?"

"What?"

"Is there something I could do to earn your forgiveness, I find that to be a fair question," Roose said quickly and clearly irate.

You looked up at him and laughed nervously because he was glaring down at you and to be honest, this was also a first. You wouldn't think it to be the case with him. And even in that moment, you wracked your brain for any moment in which you'd seen Roose truly angry, not just slightly iritated or mildly annoyed, but frustrated and emotionally driven to anger.

He huffed and pulled himself from you, walking further into your tent. You stayed at the entrance for a moment, staring at nothing, then you looked at him, still failing to find the correct words.

Another nervous laugh escaped you as you said, "Again, I don't think it's that simple. You cant just... do a favor and expect everything to be forgiven."

Roose stood, facing away from you, clearly thinking to himself. He looked all broody and upset and you couldn't help but laugh again. The men around here are all so wrapped up in themselves and their unprocessed emotions and you're always the one to carry their weight.

"Why do you care?"

He didn't answer for a moment. And you wondered if he even really heard you, but as you were about to repeat yourself, he responded, "I don't."

You scoffed, "Then you overstep again. If you don't care why do I have to forgive you. Why can't I just hate you for the rest of our miserable lives?"

He turned to you, eyes narrowed, taking you in, "Do you?"

"I don't know," You answered completely honestly, "You... ruined my marriage."

He responded quickly, firmly, and frankly, "I admit my part. I admit the dishonor I've brought you. I admit that I overstepped my bounds. These things I will admit, but I was not the demise of your marriage. Many have survived worse and continued to foster a deep love. I know, because..."

"Because we weren't the only ones," You finished, nodding. You knew. "But I'm the only one of those women who you continued to... pester afterward. You claimed your right. What right did you have stepping into my marital quarrels?"

"You'd be a fool to stay with that man after the way he treated you."

"And what's my alternative?" You asked, your voice full of humor, "Will you marry me, Lord Bolton? Is that your proposal?" You shook your head as he didn't respond, not even visually. You both knew he'd never take you to wife. If he wanted to, he would have already. But a man like Roose Bolton would never marry for love with a girl with nothing to her name but a couple of cows.

"I am sorry," he said, pausing to find the words, "That your husband has chosen to place blame on you for what I had forced you into. However, given that, surely you must see he is no man at all."

Of course, you agreed, but you didn't really see what his point was. So you said nothing, trying to come up with something. In the mean time, he continued.

"I can't marry you. But I can protect you. I'll send you to the Dreadfort. You'd be given a job, a room..." You'd be close by. "Your husband too, if you truly insist on dragging him along."

"For what in return, a bed warmer?"

"For nothing in return," He corrected, face twisting with indignation, "What kind of apology would that be if those were my terms?"

You kept your distrustful eyes trained on him, not wanting to give him any kind of small victory. But you couldn't deny the offer sounded tempting, especially with the most recent development — you were going to ask for an annulment to your marriage the next day, you were going to keep the baby. You had the same thought — living at the Dreadfort, under his protection. It just felt more rotten leaving his mouth than it did in your head.

He took a few cautious steps toward you and gently took your hands in his, “You’re a good woman. You do your duties, often even without receiving thanks. You’re a loyal woman, strong, passionate…”

You inhaled deeply, still trying to keep some emotional distance but he looked earnest, forehead creased by the way his eyebrows pushed against them. His eyes were the widest and most inviting you’d ever seen them, no jokes or hidden arrogance in them.

“I… care. I feel as if I’ve committed a great crime against your honor, and you are the most honorable woman I’ve come to know in all my years,” he confessed.

It was something that struck you in the heart — something you couldn’t push out. You had been questioning your own honor. You wanted to live an honorable life but recent events had made you feel like a failure in that respect.

Especially… you ripped your eyes away from his, sighing to yourself. Especially the way he looks at you and the way you cant help but look at him with the same longing. It was hard to hate him before when he was nothing but a prick who happened to know how to fuck the shit out of you. Now, as the father of your child, standing in front of you and whispering reassurance and praise, it was damn near impossible.

He finished his small declaration simply, “Don’t resign yourself to a miserable life. Let me make it better for you. We don’t have to speak to each other once you’ve moved into the fort.”

Decisively, you figured without a husband and with your father long gone years ago, you could do with an ally and protector. Of course, Roose Bolton wasn't ideal but he had the most reason out of anyone else to want to protect you — truly protect you

Never mind your night of passion. You tried not to think about it, especially not with him in front of you. It just clouds your judgement unnecessarily to think about his lips on your skin and his hands gripping roughly at your body, pulling you mercilessly against him. His fingers tangling in your hair, or moving your hips as you sat over him.

You cursed yourself. You hadn't meant to curse it out loud though and Roose tilted his head, brows coming together in a mix of confusion and anticipation as he was still waiting for an answer.

Unsure of yourself and your decisions in this moment, you started where you thought may be the most important, which was to explain your reasonings for everything, "Mister Kent and I will be seeking an annulment."

Roose didn't say anything, contrary to your expectation that he'd have some distasteful quip about how it was a long time coming. He just watched you respectfully. It was promising.

"I trust you will grant this annulment?"

"As your liege, I would, but I'd require a reason. A reason that would be considered valid to the Gods."

You took a deep breath and braced yourself, taking a few steps toward him. You pursed your lips in a tight, awkward smile and looked up at him. You felt like you couldn't stall this enough. This is as good a time as any.

"A reason valid for the Gods," You nodded, offering a sardonic chuvkled, "I've a damn good reason. I'm carrying a child that's not my husbands."

You watched closely for his reaction, but it was as if he froze in time, staring. He did nothing but stare. You wondered if he thought you were joking. Then he blinked and you decided he must just be thinking really hard.

"He refused to bed me for a time... the first, and only time, was about a fortnight ago now."

He continued to say nothing, but his eyes went off to the side, seemingly doing math. You nearly laughed at the sight of him doing the calculations. But you saved him the trouble.

"For reference, my wedding was about six weeks ago," you filled in the blanks for him, and tilted your head as his gaze met you again. You looked down at his lips for just a moment but quickly corrected yourself, "So... It's highly unlikely — well impossible that it would be his. A wet nurse I saw this morning said that sickness doesn't start until at least a month of having the babe."

"And it's started?" He finally asked.

You nodded, daring yourself to hold his gaze, "This morning," his eyes boring into you caused you to take in and let out a heavy breath, your lids growing heavier the more he searched your soul for answers — signs of deception. Though both of you knew there'd be no reason for you to deceive.

It was only when your lip twitched that you realized how close you'd gotten to him. You promptly blinked your head clear and looked down. He tilted your face up to find your gaze again, eyes raking your face. His own eyelids were just as hooded with desire.

"So It's mine," He stated, it wasn't a question. "You carry my child?"

His words shouldn't have excited you. It's the last thing it should do. But the reminder that you have Roose Bolton's baby in you, that the seed he shot into you on that one night had managed to take root in you by chance — that you carried the product of your shared passion that night... It made your stomach twist familiarly. It was only that this time, you didn't feel guilty thinking your husband never made your stomach twist that way.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to keep your mind grounded and stubborn. "Unfortunately. Well, maybe Fortunately. I'm not sure the alternative is kinder. I'm only telling you as a courtesy, because you'd find out eventually if I'm to be living at the Dreadfort."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. He truly hopes that no matter what, you never lose that bite to you. His fingers loosened around your chin but you held his gaze, understanding that this is what he preferred.

It just made you nervous. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, just looked at each others faces — really looked, and tried to know each other for the first time. You pushed away the feeling of wanting to kiss him, weakly this time, but you really cant. You haven’t even annulled your marriage yet and just because Roose says some pretty words to you doesnt make everything okay.

"He wanted me to take moon tea," you said, unsure of why you did. Just to keep talking, probably. Because you could see him looking at your lips with intent.

His eyes narrowed, still endlessly scanning your face, every so often landing on your lips. You tried to create a little bit of distance, and continued to talk, hoping it wouldn't escalate any further than this current tension. But even as you tried to pull back, you couldn't help but feel slightly drawn toward him. Especially with the way he was looking at you, it was hard not to have flashbacks to your old passion.

You continued, "I knew I wouldn't," Again you weren't sure why you felt the need to say it. You meant to reassure him that you wouldn’t have done such a thing without informing him first — that you were his loyal subject. It read more like a confession than anything else. It fanned the fire burning behind Roose's ice cold eyes. As you said it, you couldn't help but mirror his response.

How had you come to be so loyal to this man and he to you?

You still find reason to dislike him... but the thought of getting rid of his child had never truly been a realistic option to you. Even if you had the moon tea in your hands, even if you started to drink it, you'd remember the way he looked deep into your eyes as he took you — well it wasn't much different from the way he was looking at you right now.

The only real differences between now and then was that you’d been more naked that day, he was inside you, and after taking in your flustered state with those ever intense eyes of his, he captured your lips in his hungrily.

His face drew closer to yours. Then your lips brushed.

You pulled back slightly.

His hands came up to cup the back of your neck and cradle the under side of your skull as his face chased yours.

No… even if you had the tea in your hands and sipped a mouthful of the poison, you'd have remembered this exact energy and you would have spit out that tea before you could swallow it down.

One last attempt to pull away, feeble, and barely helping in any way, "I couldn't," left your lips, the words spoken more or less into his mouth, and you closed your lips onto his.

[andy-wm]

JK takes JM with him everywhere he goes...

"The lyrics of SEVEN have the meaning to be with the person you love all the time"

The making of the SEVEN MV was released some hours ago.

I've watched it a few times in succession and loved seeing JK having so much fun. The stunts especially would have been a hoot for him because we know he loves anything with a hint of danger.

Which explains why he adores JM. That boy's death stare could maim you from across a room...

...and his smoulder is even more lethal.

To say nothing of his sass. If you need salt for the wounds you're already nursing, just stick around for a little of JM's trademark eye rolling.

Any ordinary mortal would be limping and bruised by now and we haven't even made it past Jimin's face. The rest of him is equally hazardous ...

But I digress.

So, back to the topic at hand. And that is in fact the topic. JK's hand. Specifically the tattoos on his hand.

I took so many screenshots of that 'making of', I have fiĺled my camera roll with blurry images of those tattoos. Every time the ink was visible, I clicked.

And here's my news ... those tats have been touched up. Okay, it's not really news. We know he has to be having them redone regularly, especially with the abuse his knuckles take with boxing. I don't have hand tats but my ride or die bestie does and hers need redoing every few months.

Although the lighting in the MV is low, it's still easy to see that some of the letters stand out more than others. It definitely looks like the J&M have very recently been redone. This is also not big news, we saw it before during his trip to Qatar.

BUT.

I can't help wondering about the timing. Did he make sure he did that just before the MV shooting, because he knew the female character would stir up rumours?

I also wonder... is part of the reason he chose to have these tats done on his hands (as opposed to elsewhere) because you cannot avoid looking at them?

His hands are such a focus, not only for him but for anyone watching him. They move constantly, so you can't NOT see 'JM' there, emblazoned on his ring finger like a sigil.

But even though I think that could be true, I'm certain the primary reason is symbolic. And romantic, of course because its JK.

I can't think of anything more profoundly sincere than having another person's initials inked into your skin, especially on the finger that would carry a wedding ring ...if it was allowed.

That ink is a love letter both to yourself and to the person you name there. It speaks of a passion that burns so brightly it outshines any other that could ever come along. That ink is a commitment that binds more permanently than any social ceremony. Your lover's identity is etched into your skin, and it will be there for the remainder of your lifetime and beyond.

It would take someone fearless and determined and unwavering to do something so unequivocal.

And surely they would only do it for a most precious person...for the love of their life.

《You know what hits me the hardest? The most incredible part of this story? We dont see a similar tattoo on JM's finger. It seems JK did it without any need for reciprocation.》

💜💛

[bonny-kookoo]

I don't know if your still doing prey couple but maybe something where oc has braxon contractions? And jk is going crazy? Or maybe they're not contractions because she's carrying alien baby?

Thanks❤️

He instantly notices something is going on as you stop doing whatever you're doing, standing in place.

"What's wrong?" He gets up to walk closer to you, hands unsure where to hold as his eager eyes search for any clue. "Do you feel bad? Are you in pain?" He rants out, helplessly watching as you take a small step towards the nest, before you take another one, trying to breathe steady before sitting down with his help.

It's now very much visible that you're carrying his child, your body changing noticeably as he seems to spot those changes as well.

"I'm not.. sure." You say after a moment or two, taking a deep breath before you seem to relax. "Its.. for a second I felt like, I don't know.." you mumble to yourself, before looking at him.

"You've got to be more specific than that." He argues, still tense. "Was it pain? Should I call Seokjin to check up on you? Actually let me do that, just to be safe-" he rambles, getting up to fetch his phone to call the man in question.

And after explaining to him what had happened, he nods, before putting everything away in his bag again.

"Its nothing out of the ordinary." He explains. "Her body is simply.. preparing for labor. Practicing, so to say." He shrugs.

"Already?!" Jungkook barks out, eyes wide open. "I-what?! I've not had any time to prep-"

"Jungkook don't worry, it's not at all time yet." Jin reassures the already standing alien. "These things simply happen along the way. There's still a good amount of time until she's ready for that." He tries to calm him down, though Jungkook only reluctantly sits back down close to you.

"So she's still fine?" He asks, and Jin nods.

"Everything's going well. How do you feel otherwise?" Jin asks you, and you shrug.

"A bit tired and out of breath sometimes, but okay." You nod.

"Understandable. Try and take things slow okay?" He gently advises, before he gets up to leave again.

And once he does, Jungkook gets up again to open a newly delivered package, taking out more blankets he brings over to you.

"Dont you think we have enough already?" You giggle as Jungkook places the blankets close to himself to get his scent all over them- he's explained that to you before.

"Never." He shakes his head as he scents the blankets. "After all we'll be three once she's here." He tells you, and you hold his shoulder.

"She?" You ask, and he nods.

"She." He grins with red cheeks and sparkling eyes.

[venicebitch00]

shiv roy x reader pls!! like i was thinking maybe angsty jealous shiv and then fluff at the end? i dont mind anything honestly i just want shiv x reader content

dress

shiv roy x reader

a/n: omg i was so worried that nobody would request shiv so i was so happy when i saw these!! i hope you don’t mind i combined the two!! kinda ended angstier than i intended too

1.4 k

Shiv Roy had a meticulous morning routine that she followed every day without fail. She woke up at 5:00 (exactly half an hour before Tom), got changed, brushed her teeth, and went on a run. After about 3 miles, and when she knew Tom had left for work, she returned home and ate breakfast while scrolling through work emails and current headlines. This morning, however, her usually peaceful routine was interrupted. By you. 

As the woman ate her breakfast bar and scrolled through various news articles she couldn't help but notice your name-making and appearance. At first, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, your family owned one of the biggest fashion houses in the country so it wasn’t a surprise that some blog would write an occasional fluff piece about the outfit you wore to fashion week or speculations about your relationship with some model or actor. And although she would never dare admit it, she would secretly save everyone to read later. But it wasn’t until she saw your name plastered on an article headline written by her very own family’s news company that her attention was caught. The article detailed that your father had announced his anticipated retirement and you would be inheriting the family company and sole CEO. 

You had met Shiv and college, you wish you could say the two of you hit it off instantly, but you both knew it was from the truth. You both came from wealthy families and were used to having to fight viciously to get a spot at the table, so naturally, an unspoken rivalry formed between you, and the constant need to outdo and impress the other grew. However as your professors began to notice this competition, the more they would pair up the two of you, and eventually over the four years, your rivalry melted into something some might call a friendship. However the passion and intensity remained and it wasn’t easy to forget the late nights spent together fueled by wine and lust, the exam that you were supposed to be helping each other study for long forgotten. 

But as graduation approached and the simplicity of the days on your college campus came to an end, so did your and Shiv’s complicated relationship. She met her prince charming, a wealthy boy from Minnesota named Tom, or as you liked to call him “farmer fuckface”. But Tom was doting, he put Shiv before everything and promised a life of stability. One that her father might be proud of. Tom was safe. Tom was everything you were not. This, however, still did not stop the twinge of hurt she felt reading about this news. She fucking the fact that she had to hear about your life in a newspaper instead of listening to you ramble and giggle endlessly while tangled in your sheets. 

And just like clockwork, as she was fighting the urge to call you your name appeared on her home screen. 

Hey, know it’s been a while but it would mean a lot if you came tonight. I miss you. 

Shiv tried not to read into the last sentence of the message and instead clicked on the attached link you sent. It was an invitation to some party your company was throwing to celebrate your new position as CEO. If it was anyone else, she would of already politely rejected the invitation and made other plans for the evening. But it wasn’t. It was you. So she began to draft her text back. 

I’ll check my calendar. 

Much to Shiv’s dismay Kendall and Roman had also received invitations and insisted on coming with her. Shiv knew of her two brothers' motivations, both had been wanting to get into your pants since she first introduced you to them all those years ago and despite all the rejections they still seemed persistent. 

Shiv Roy was not a naturally anxious person. You can’t be, not when you go into countless business meetings every day filled with dozens of perverted old men just waiting for you to screw up and more focused on your tits that the words coming out of your mouth. But tonight her stomach was erupting in butterflies. 

Right as they walked in, Roman b-lined to the open bar, and Kendall mumbled something about finding Stewy, which left Shiv standing in the middle of your party all by herself. 

“What’s a gorgeous lady like yourself standing here all alone?” 

she could recognize your teasing voice from miles away. Shiv practically snapped her head around to see you, looking as gorgeous as ever, except now more mature and adult than she remember. 

“Bonnie,” you breathed, Shiv’s heart surged at the nickname you gave her years ago after finding out her full name, Sibohan, “fuck I missed you”. You engaged the redhead in a tight hug, one that Shiv hesitantly accepted. 

Once you released, Shiv cleared her throat, “Yeah I..Fuck yeah I missed you too” 

“Come on let’s get you a drink” 

At the bar, Shiv was impressed when you still remembered her order.

“So, I’m surprised you came” 

“Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“You’ve been avoiding me”

Shiv scoffed “I have not been avoiding you”

“Come on, you have to, ever since the wedding” you, of course, referencing Shiv’s wedding to Tom. “Speak of the devil, where is farmer fuckface” 

Shiv chucked at your endearing nickname for her husband, “He’s you know, working” 

“I see” you took a sip from your martini “I’m surprised he let you come here by yourself” 

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean” You peered up at her from your martini glass with a smirk. “Right well, I think I should make rounds” You fixed your hair and chugged the last bit of your drink. 

“Ah right you’re a busy CEO now aren't you” Shiv smiled, “I’ll see you later”.

Shiv watched you as you made your way around the room, greeting your guests and graciously thanking them for coming to your party. She couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy watching a bunch of strangers receiving your attention and loving praise. Her final straw was when she watched Kendall march up to you. You of course greeted him with a kind hug, one that lasted a bit too long for Shiv’s taste. She watched as he made you laugh and grazed your arm with his own. It used to be amusing to watch her brothers pathetically flirt with you all those years ago because she knew you were hers. But now it just made a pit form at the bottom of her stomach. 

Shiv chugged the last bit of the champagne she had been nursing and made her way to you. She abruptly grabbed your hand, muttering some lame excuse to Kendall about needing you for some “girl emergency” and dragged you to the nearest bathroom. 

Her lips were on yours the moment she locked the door, and your hands wasted no time getting lost in her short hair. 

“Aw what’s a matter Shivy, got a little jealous out there” you pouted her lip at her

“Oh fuck off” she murmured as you began to leave kissing down her neck, to her collarbone. 

“Missed this, missed you”. You felt Shiv’s hands begin to trail down your back, slowly unzipping your dress “Wait, fuck” you mumbled against her lips “What about Tom?”

“I’ve talked to him”

“About us?” you raised a brow.

“No, well, no not exactly. I’ve told him I want a more open relationship,” she stated matter-of-factly. 

“Wow, who knew Shiv Roy was so progressive” You started to kiss her again “What’s next, buying a van and starting a nomadic life?” 

“Oh shut up” you could practically feel her eyes rolling, “and since when did you ever care about Tom?” 

You looked up at her once more, “I just-” you paused, “Fuck, never mind”. You caved and reunited her lips with yours.

You realized this was a battle you were not going to win anytime soon. Before Shiv was your “Bonnie”, she was always going to be “Shiv Roy of Waystar Royco”, and your relationship just didn’t fit into that part of her life. Neither of you was ready to admit how much you meant to one another, so you would just pretend that it didn’t matter. And you figured if you got burned, at least you were electrified. 

[blankwashed]

(authors note: hi there, another sylus fic from me but its from your point of view. he’s a obsessive maniac here, just like how i am towards him LOL.)

(this is written from your point of view)

his eyes, his control.

i’ve been working for sylus for a few months now. at first, it felt like an opportunity - to work for the self-made billionaire. who wouldn’t want that? but now, i can’t help but feel like i’m suffocated my the boss himself.

every day, my desk is positioned just outside sylus’s office, right next to his door. he comes in after me with a bagel in hand, greeting me and proceeds to sit on his chair. at first, it seemed like he was being a good boss, overseeing my work, making sure i correct my errors. but then, i notice that his gaze always lingers on me after i leave his room, intense and unwavering, even when everyone else was around.

today was no different.

“good morning,” i said, walking into the office.

sylus was already in his chair, his eyes fixed on me the moment i walk through the door. his response was soft, almost too quiet for anyone else to here, “morning. you’re looking…lovely today.” as you do, everyday.

i offer a nervous smile and quickly sit down at my desk, my fingers trembling slightly as i boot up my computer. his compliments always feel laced with something more - like they aren’t just innocent remarks but a reminder that he wants more.

before i can get my start on the day, a colleague, xavier, stops by to ask about a report. his tongue was light and casual. we exchange a few words, nothing much out of the ordinary, but i feel it - the shift in the room. it felt like eyes were looking straight at us from above. xavier glances toward’s sylus’s office, his voice faltering slightly as if he feels it too.

then, the door to sylus’s office swings open.

“xavier,” sylus says, his voice sharp, “is this important?”

xavier stiffens. “just asking about the quarterly report you asked-“

“i’ll take care of it.” sylus cuts him off, stepping into the frame and placing a hand on my shoulder. the possessive heavy weight of his hand burns through my blouse. “you don’t need to bother her. she’s busy, she just got here. get back to work.”

xavier swallows hard, nods and curries away. it was like an angry cat gnarled at a mouse. the moment he was gone, sylus’s grip tightened ever so slightly on my shoulder, as if he’s trying to mark me. i don’t move. i dont say anything.

“you don’t need distractions like that,” sylus murmurs, leaning down close enough that i feel the heat of his breath against my ear. “they don’t appreciate your work like i do.”

i forced a smile and nods, hoping it’ll satisfy him, “i know.”

for the rest of work, sylus barely leaves my side. even when he’s not standing directly with me, i could smell his gucci cologne. every time i move, every glance i share with anyone else, he’s watching.

around noon, i tried to make my escape.

“i’m going to grab some lunch, i’m hungry,” i announce, standing from my desk and reaching for my bag.

“you’ll eat with me.” his voice stops me dead in my tracks.

i blink, turning to face him. “what?”

“lunch,” sylus’s tone hardens, his hand wrapping around my wrist, “we’ll eat together.”

his grip isn’t tight enough to hurt, but its firm. i know i’m not getting out of this. my purpose quickens as i force myself to nod.

“okay..”

he smiles then, but its a possessive, statisfied smile. as if a cat catches a mouse for dinner. he’s always like this - demanding, controlling as if i’m not allowed to have a life outside of him. as if i exist only for his eyes, his attention.

once we’re seated in his office, with our takeout meal placed in front of us, sylus barely touches his food. instead, his eyes stay locked on me as i eat. it’s unsettling and made me put down my fork.

“why do you always try to slip away?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and dangerous.

i pause, confused. “i’m not trying to slip away. i just needed some alone time.”

“you don’t need alone time. you don’t need anyone else.” he leans forward, his eyes darkening. “you belong here with me.”

the last time you checked, you weren’t the slave of anyone. yes, he’s your boss, but the both of you didn’t have any other type of relationship with each other. sure, sylus was intimidating, powerful even, but that didn’t mean he had control over everything—not over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh as you glanced at your phone again. several missed calls from him, and a handful of messages, all increasingly demanding. you hadn’t responded. couldn’t respond, really. his obsession had grown too much, his need to know where you were at all times becoming suffocating. it wasn’t like you didn’t admire him—you did. his sharp jawline, that piercing gaze, the way his presence could command a room with just a glance. sylus was, by all standards, attractive, even if he didn’t make it easy to admit.

but that was it. he was your boss, nothing more.

and yet, in recent weeks, it felt like he was trying to become more—something darker, something possessive. the thought of how his eyes would track your every movement in the office sent a chill down your spine. you hadn’t missed the way he watched you, the intensity in his gaze whenever you spoke to someone else. he acted like you belonged to him.

but you didn’t. you weren’t his.

that’s why you were here, sitting in your apartment, ignoring the incessant calls, trying to create space between you and the looming storm that was sylus. you weren’t sure when it had started—when his control over you had shifted from professional to something far more personal. maybe it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, masked by his composed exterior.

another buzz from your phone broke your thoughts. this time, it wasn’t a call—it was a simple message:

“i demand you to come back, now.”

seven words. short. commanding. and yet, something in you stirred. you bit your lip, resisting the urge to respond, resisting the pull you felt towards him even though you knew you shouldn’t.

sylus always had a way of getting what he wanted. but this time, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give it to him.

“i’ve had it with him! if this goes on longer, i might need to file a restraining order.” you thought to yourself.

“i’m sorry, mr. sylus but i think i want to resign from this position. yes, i will be missing out on the great opportunity that you’ve given me but i feel that this relationship that you’re trying to have with me has gone bounds beyond the normal relationship a boss has with his employees.” you typed out in your phone as a message.

‘how is he going to respond? shit, i maybe shouldn’t have sent him such a direct message,’ you panicked, pacing your small living room. the phone sat heavy in your hand, the screen dark now, but the dread creeping up your spine was very much alive.

you didn’t mean for it to sound so… dismissive. so final. but the moment you hit send, you knew it was a mistake. you knew how he was. sylus never took well to being pushed aside, especially by someone he had his eyes on.

boy, you were right.

it didn’t take long for your phone to buzz again, the sudden sound making you jump. you hesitated before checking the message, but you didn’t need to read it to feel the weight of his reaction.

“i’ll see that you’ll regret that.”

your heart sank. that wasn’t a threat. it wasn’t anger. it was something worse—an undeniable promise. sylus didn’t react well to being denied, and you’d just done exactly that. you could almost picture him, standing in his office, hands clenched, that dangerous glint in his eyes as he stared at the phone. the man who controlled everything, who let nothing slip past his grasp, was now fixated on you.

you sat down heavily, your breath shallow. you knew you had to go back. if you didn’t… you didn’t even want to think about what would happen. sylus wasn’t the type to let things go, and the more you resisted, the more obsessive he became.

it’s going to be hard to face him every day at work, you thought to yourself, your mind racing. should you even go to work? the idea of walking into his office, feeling his eyes on you, knowing what you’d just triggered… it sent a wave of unease through you.

he wouldn’t make it easy. he never did. every step you took in that building, you’d feel his presence looming, like a shadow that refused to let you out of its grasp.

or… would it be better to just disappear?

the thought lingered longer than it should have. could you even do that? pack up and vanish, leave everything behind just to avoid him? a part of you, the part that valued your safety and peace of mind, urged you to consider it. sylus wasn’t someone you could ignore forever—not after everything. if you didn’t face him soon, he’d find a way to make sure you did.

but disappearing… running away… wasn’t that giving him more control? he’d already wormed his way into your thoughts, making you feel trapped without even touching you. would running even change anything?

you stared at the phone, your thumb hovering over the call button. it was a choice. one way or the other. either face him tomorrow, walking straight into the lion’s den, or disappear before things got worse.

lying, but you couldn’t handle the thought of seeing him—his piercing red eyes locking onto you the moment you walked through the doors. not today. not when the rustling feelings in your heart were still too loud, too unsettled.

the thought of his presence made your stomach twist. the way he watched you, the way he always seemed one step ahead, knowing what you were going to do before you even did it. how could you face that today? no, staying home was the only option, at least until you could calm the storm brewing inside you.

you tossed your phone onto the couch and sank down beside it, staring at the ceiling. the day stretched before you, but even in the safety of your own space, you couldn’t shake the feeling that sylus was still there, somehow looming over your thoughts.

“you’ll regret that.”

his words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the power he held over you. you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing now, whether he believed you were really sick, or if he knew you were avoiding him. sylus wasn’t a fool. he probably saw right through the lie, and that only made things worse. you could picture him in his office, cold and calculating, already maniacally coming up with an excuse to pay you a visit in your own home.

you tried to push it all out of your mind. focus on anything else. but no matter what, your thoughts kept circling back to him. you needed to calm down, find a way to deal with this before things spiraled further.

but deep down, you knew that sylus wasn’t a waiting type, when he wants something he gets it, even if he needed to tear through people. if you weren’t going to come to him… he’d come to you. one way or another.

[batw1nggg]

this is just me being silly but im making a script for an essay video analyzing all of nagito's songs because i realized a lot of people dont even know about all of them especially poison i have absolute hope birthday and remaining cherry blossoms practically finished but i have no idea where to start with what poison is about lmao

if u do end up recording the essay PLZZZ LINK !!! i would love to see !!!!

ok so i’ll only be able to give a very surface level analyzation because i don’t know japanese and translations between eng and jp are always sort of janky, i might get some things wrong or miss some nuances (if anyone knows some japanese and wants to chime in please please do!!). but i can definitely give u the basic gist of it. translation taken from the danganronpa fandom wiki page. ok here we go

so the song takes place when komaeda kills himself (“I believe that hope / And will offer my pulsating heart / For the sake of that brilliance / I’ll tear apart my chest / Until the very last drop / Trickles down and wets my lips”, “I am merely watching over you”).

To me it seems like a summary of his thought process — he mentions wanting to “meet the biggest hope” (the hope that will overcome the despair of and end the killing game), how he has “no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring” (his thoughts on talentless people). those parts of the song are just outlining the basics of his worldview.

but, because this song is about komaeda’s death, it’s also inextricably tied to hinata. we see this most explicitly with the line “I love, and want to understand / him more than anyone else”. a main theme of komahina is their desire to understand each other.

That’s the really obvious hinata reference, but he also seems to be referenced more subtly throughout:

- “I have no need for worthless things / anything ordinary and boring / What meaning is there to words that will neither be deadly poison nor cure?” this is komaeda talking about how he thinks talentless people are boring, they’re neither shining hope (like the ultimates) nor crushing despair (like junko) and are just pawns in the game; but also, who exactly was it that chose to be neither deadly poison (despair) or cure (hope)? to create an ending separate of hope and despair altogether, to create a new choice, to focus on the future? komaeda’s asking what meaning there is to anything that is neither pure hope nor pure despair — anything that is not necessary to the cycle of hope and despair. hinata will go on to give him the answer.

- “When drinking poison poured into a glass will you drink it immediately or throw it away?” this one seems vague but I’m inclined to believe it’s about hinata because it’s followed by “I am merely watching over you / to whom the last choice is given”. the “whom” is very obviously hinata, he’s the one that makes the choice to wake up and then inspires everyone else to choose the same. that former lyric about the poison seems to be a fancy way of komaeda asking whether or not hinata will give into the despair of finding out the truth (drinking the poison) or decide to keep going despite it (throwing it away). he’s watching over hinata in death, entrusting hinata with that decision.

hinata being a core part of this song really speaks to how much trust komaeda was putting into hinata in chapters 5 and 6. i’ve already made a post or two about how komaeda’s faith in hinata to solve trial 5 and survive trial 6 was an integral factor in the game’s ending. komaeda can’t talk about his death without hinata being part of the conversation; hinata is the only one who’s ever tried to understand him instead of completely writing him off as insane, he’s a big part of komaeda’s life. we see at the end of the komaeda pov manga that hinata was komaedas last thought before death.

so yeah. to summarize: the song is about chapter 5. komaeda talks about his worldview, talks about how his worldview and faith in hope led to his sacrifice, and talks about his faith in hinata.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

"criminal intentions, she had Stolen Your Heart."

"i'd take a life for your love."

synopsis// when the tables turn and doma finds himself agreeing to worship you.

pairing// doma x gn!reader

word count// 2k

contents// angst? fluff? ooc doma probably (not even probably like i bet he is.. sad face), manga spoilers? but not important spoilers just his backstory, morally grey characters obviously....

notes// i need doma so bad you dont understand. and yes this is inspired by a song... todays inspiration is pineapple bride by anemoria... this shit kinda cringe ngl... i may be cringe but at least i am free. anywho yay! finally a demon slayer one shot!!

Doma lacked empathy; some could say he was just born without it, when in reality he was just never shown it. So how could Doma be expected to have something he was never given? at least that was until he met you.

For Doma, it had been another ordinary day—having people cry at his feet, worshipping a child like he was some kind of god as he gave them whatever advice his child brain could come up with. On the other hand, for you, it could also be said it was another ordinary day, but it was your new ordinary.

Just a few weeks prior, you had come home to find your family slaughtered—you obviously didn’t stick around, escaping to a nearby town only to find everyone there slaughtered as well. Since then, you’ve been mindlessly walking with no destination for the past few weeks, stealing things when needed, and somehow avoiding demons once night fell. But today was different; you could feel it, especially when you entered what you thought was an empty home only to find a boy staring at what you could only presume were his dead parents in a random room. He didn’t have a reaction, not even when you, a random child who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, made yourself known to him.

“Oh my god?” You whisper breathlessly at the scene before you. You had seen countless people slaughtered, yet somehow you think this takes the cake in terms of gruesomeness.

“Couldn’t they have done this somewhere else? The blood is making the room stuffy,” Doma speaks blankly.

You weren’t phased by his apathy; obviously, he had to have gone through something to have made him this way in the first place. “You should go outside,” you say softly.

He looks at you curiously. “What?” 

Had you not already spent weeks on end finding slaughtered people and growing numb to death, you would not have offered what you’re about to offer at your young age: “I’ll clean this up, so it won’t be stuffy anymore.”

“What do you want?” he asks almost bitterly. “Are you going to cry at my feet for advice as well?”

You stare at him in bewilderment. “What? No, of course not. Why would I do that? I’m just trying to be nice.”

You almost miss how his face softens slightly. “Nice,” he mumbles to himself before offering his hand out to you, something he’d never dream of doing, but he supposes you could be an exception. “I’m Doma.” 

You take his hand hesitantly. “I’m Y/n.” 

From that day on, you and Doma had become inseparable. Where he went, you followed along, and where you went, he followed along. You considered him your best friend, and you liked to think he considered you his as well. Eventually, after spending so much time together, practically conjoined at the hip, it was only obvious that one of you was going to end up catching feelings, and you were the unfortunate one to do just that. You never dared to tell him, because although you were already special to Doma considering how he immediately befriended you and no one else, you weren’t going to try and push your luck out of fear that he’d end up seeing you as pitiful as the humans that worshipped him.

Then there had come a day where the two of you had run into someone who called himself Muzan, claiming he could grant Doma power and offering to turn him into a demon. Doma agreed in a heartbeat, but only if Muzan would turn you too, and you quickly agreed, even despite your past of seeing everyone slaughtered by demons, because you wanted a lifetime plus ten more with Doma. He was your best friend and the love of your life, so of course you would jump at this opportunity. After being turned, it seemed like you two were living your best lives together as upper moons, but that was quickly proven false when Doma started a new cult and you couldn’t stand it.

You couldn’t stand watching these women fawn over him only for him to eat them, and it’s not that you felt bad for them; it was that you felt jealous. So you pushed him away, and heartbreakingly to you, he didn’t make an effort to stop you, like he didn’t care, like you weren’t there for him since you two were kids, like he wasn’t about to beg Muzan to turn you had he said no. But what were you going to do? beg him so he could see you as just another who fawns over him? God no, you weren’t going to stoop to those pitiful humans level just for some impossible chance with Doma. and it was foolish of you to think that you were different from the start, that he would never do this to you, that this would never happen. but it did. So you left. or you tried.

Considering both of you were upper moons, whenever summoned, you were bound to run into him from time to time, and as much as you hated to admit it, even despite leaving him and going off on your own, you still loved him. and at first, whenever you would see him, you would have to stop yourself from practically jumping into his arms, but you learned to suppress that urge; you learned to keep your love for him locked away far beneath within your brain. Doma remained unaffected, at least at first. He had gotten so caught up in his little cult that he truly didn't even notice you left him for the first few months, but once he did, everything went to shit.

What Doma never cared to realize is that you were like air to him. extremely necessary but also extremely unnoticeable, so of course you don’t realize how much you need air until you're gasping for it, and that’s exactly what happened to him. He tried talking to you, but you kept your replies short, ending conversations just as quickly as he began them, and he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what had happened; just months prior, you were practically glued to his hip, and now you’re reminding him too much of himself for his liking. He didn’t think you lacked complete empathy; he’s just beginning to think you're starting to lack empathy for him, which terrifies him.

Death doesn’t scare him, nor do some silly hashiras, but the idea of you treating him how he’s treated everyone else terrifies him. which is why he keeps trying to get your attention and keeps trying to make amends, and of course it doesn’t work because you’ve locked away any love you still have for him. Doma constantly found himself cursing his younger self for being so naive and not seeing how much you cared for him and how he cared for you just as much, if not more. It eventually all comes to a breaking point when you and Akaza have just come back from a mission, but only Akaza has walked through the doors and you are nowhere to be found. Doma immediately approaches Akaza, someone he considered to be his best friend (after you, of course), and annoys him about you.

Doma throws his arm over him. “I was super worried about you guys!” he says. “You’re my precious buddies; I don't want anyone here to wane out now!”

“Move your arm,” Akaza replies blankly.

He ignores his request. “Mind telling me where y/n is?”

Akaza ignores him and instead punches him, which of course doesn't phase Doma at all.

“Nice punch!” Doma compliments him as he wipes the blood off his face; his wound is already immediately healing itself. “So about Y/n?”

Akaza rolls his eyes and points toward the door. “Outside somewhere, can you leave me alone now?”

“Thank you, Akaza!” he beams before practically bolting out the door.

Doma quickly finds that you aren't out here, or at least not anywhere near, so he ventures out into the surrounding forest only to find you sitting under a tree. You lift your head at the sound of footsteps only to drop it again when you realize who it is.

“Go away, Doma,” you groan.

He perks up. “Glad to see you’re still alive!”

“What part of go away don't you understand?” You snap, glaring at him.

“Why do you hate me?”

“What?“ You laugh in disbelief because, in your mind, Doma didn't care, and you brushed off all his previous attempts to make amends as just something he did to ease the obvious tension between you two when in the same room and not because he actually cared.

Doma frowns. “I'm trying!”

You stare at him in complete bewilderment as you stand up and approach him, wanting to be face-to-face with him. In all honesty, you're partially trying to intimidate him to see if he’s bluffing, but you can’t see even a hint of insincerity in his face, and it makes your blood boil.

“For once?”

“Why are you acting like this? Why do you have to get so angry at me?”

“What? You mean acting like you?” you scoff. “I'm just playing a game you laid out for me, Doma.”

“I know,” he sighs in defeat. “So, Y/n, just tell me what I have to do to fix it... Please.”

You stare at him wide-eyed, your jaw clenched tight. You can't let him get to you, he's lying, he doesn't mean any of this.

Doma takes a step closer to you, your chests about to touch at this point. “Tell me, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

“Yeah right.” You roll your eyes and scoff as you try to take a step back, but Doma grabs you by your arms and holds you in place.

“I’m serious.”

Your eyes bore into him intensely, taking his words as a challenge. “Fine. If you’re so serious, worship me for a change.”

You don’t say this with the intention of him taking you seriously; you don't think he actually will; you want to catch him bluffing; you don't want to think that maybe he does reciprocate your feelings and that he is actually really willing to do anything for you.

“Done,” Doma replies immediately as he drops to his knees in front of you faster than you can comprehend, he didn't even need to think about it.

“Doma-“

“What else?” he asks, looking up at you with a sickly sweet smile.

“Get up!” you say quickly, avoiding his unwavering gaze. The sight of him on his knees for you is proving to be too much.

“You wanted me to worship you; I'm doing it.”

You breathe out heavily, your body growing far too warm for comfort, and you’re sure if he stays there any longer you might actually start believing him and give into your love for him again. “I'm sure you do this with all of your little cult members. Now, get up.”

Doma grabs your hand, which catches your attention. You meet his gaze, which has still been on you this whole time, while he brings your hand up to his mouth and places a chaste kiss on it. “Don't be foolish; you’re the only one.”

You swallow harshly. There goes any resolve you had on not giving in to him. “Get up, Doma,” you say softly, not bothering to take your hand out of his.

He hums at your change of tone and listens, his hand still holding yours. “So?”

“So what?”

He smiles and gives your hand a slight squeeze. “Am I forgiven?”

“No, not yet," you sigh. "You still have to work for it. You took me for granted, Doma.”

He hums, and you expect him to frown or protest, but he doesn’t; he simply nods.

Doma places another chaste kiss against your hand as he mumbles,

"Like I said, I’ll do anything."

You attempt to hold back a smile but fail miserably.

"I like the sound of that."

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD