#sorry maybe this is mean and petty but i had to get it off my chest
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if you could change the outcome of any 3 motogp races (the outcome of the championship doesn’t change regardless tho) which ones would you chose?
one of those asks that immediately made me forget every single race I've watched in my life. it's a tough one, especially with the championship thing... I'm gonna add another criterion here and say nothing to do related to injury/death
so... I came up with one quite quickly, then got stuck, then came up with a second and got even more stuck. I'm quite reluctant to change any 'plot-relevant races' in the context of specific careers and rivalries, plus I'm ideologically opposed to stealing any win off a non-alien and giving it to an alien. which then kinda left me?? well. stuck. I don't like these picks but well maybe I'll come up with something better at some point
assen 2018: I simply could not come up with a third race so I'll just throw this one in. dovi + valentino really really should have gotten onto the podium in this race, those were extremely podium-worthy performances, it was such a deeply silly incident between the pair of them that took them out of podium contention. also it's still seen as a classic race and... I don't even begrudge the two beneficiaries for their podium, it's just one where the three best riders that day didn't end up on the podium and I would change that!! I don't even really care that much but also look I had a spot to fill. would've enjoyed the rancid podium vibes, it's what a race of that quality deserved
sepang 2018: just deeply annoying? like, I think it was a super impressive performance, the consistent lap times trick from a 78 year old was very neat, it was cute when jorge did unprompted valentino prop for metronome solidarity reasons, it's one of literally two premier class races where valentino crashed out of the lead so I don't even hold it against him. but... well, that one might have been building to a battle between marc and valentino, and it would've been fun to see that! not least because of location + relationship vibes in 2018. I'd change the result in preventing the crash, don't really care who wins after that point - hey, they can crash each other out if they want. I Just Wanted To See It
styria 2020: bit of a niche one but I remember being pissed off by this so I'm going with it - this should have been mir's win without the bloody red flag. now I'm very sorry that maverick was just having an abysmal time in austria, peace and love to him, I'd probably never step foot in the country again after the eight days he had in that country.... but still, his bike attempting to murder him did ruin what really should've been joan's first win. I'm very defensive of mir's win stats and I was supporting the title bid with zero wins agenda once that looked plausible, but now that he's just gotten stuck on one win for quite a few years... well, again, I do think it's kinda iconic but I'd also let him have two. and back then he wasn't even really looking like a title contender and was still going for his FIRST win.... I was feeling very sorry for him so. there
#//#brr brr#batsplat responds#the way I struggled with this you'd think I've never been upset by a race in my life#idk I do usually come around on most results for narrative purposes? like I can talk myself into vibing with most results#in THIS sport mind u in Certain Other Sports I've spent the last two and a half years screaming crying throwing up#anyway with the alien seasons I'd go with 'change all the technical regulations and start again' but that feels like a different question#I had a few where I was like 'well misano 2008 could've been more interesting if casey hadn't crashed'#or 'the 2009 title fight would've had a more exciting conclusion if jorge hadn't crashed phillip island 2009'#but like... both those mistakes are kinda interesting? also in that era there's no guarantee you'd actually get an interesting race#I had a moment where I was thinking 'oh but you could give sete a win post-2004' and... no? sorry but no#scrolled through all the results from 2000 to 2005 and went 'no these are all Perfect Actually'#I mean maybe I'd steal melandri's wins but that also seems incredibly petty. valentino levels of petty. can't do that#also was thinking mugello 2016 give valentino a functioning engine but that IS already a classic race so I won't touch it#or sachsenring 2012 would've been more fun if casey had not crashed but well. idk it's notable he DOES crash. kinda juicy#or silverstone 2015 marc's crash but to me 2015 is quantum locked like you can't really touch anything there#le mans 2017 pissed me off at the time but also. *shrug* whatever#jerez 2018 + catalunya 2019 were annoying because they ruined an already dire title fight picture#but I can admit how funny those were. especially catalunya#I do also think it's a little bit funny how jorge STILL gets shit over it like that one doesn't have an expiration date I fear#still gets referenced SO regularly. poor jorge
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you know some days i go "kryptos is pretty much an oc and any characterization is valid. i have my thoughts but it's pretty silly to say i 'understand' a character who has one canon line better than anyone else" and then other days i see a fic tagged "bill is harley quinn. kryptos is the joker" and then i go "actually i'm the only one allowed to talk about this stupid square ever"
#like okay obviously i don't see them that way but even if you do think they have a vibe like that it's insane to turn BILL into HARLEY#that's so clearly not the power dynamic in place if you're gonna run with that interpretation#'was it a billd--' yeah they understood nothing about the characters ofc it was. mabel was a cop#the fic was orphaned by the creator so i feel better complaining about it but every time i think about those tags#i feel like I'M the one turning into the joker#sorry maybe this is mean and petty but i had to get it off my chest#i saw this fic years ago and have thought about those tags like at least once a week since#anyway i'm gonna make this unrebloggable because it's just me being semi-privately baffled by a character read
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Well, I'm feeling a bit petty lately. So say, Y/N and Eddie is in a relationship but another girl is hitting on him and rubbing it in Y/N's face and she has told Eddie "please, tell this girl off, because it's not fun what she's doing." But Eddie, that has only seen the sweet side of the other girl tells her 'there's nothing you have to worry about', maybe he likes the attention even though he's faithful to Y/N.
So one night when Y/N and Eddie is going to have a date night this girls calls is needs him for whatever reason and Eddie just says "be right back, babe."
And that's where Y/N draw the line. She usually stays at Eddie's and Wayne's but now she packs up her stuff and goes home and when Eddie comes back and gets frantic, she doesn't answer her phone and when he comes to her house to visit she just says: Why aren't you with "other girls name"? She's the one you treat as a girlfriend after all?" and close the door in his face.
And Eddie realizes he has fucked upp for real this time - for real real and maybe even gets a talking to by Wayne.
But it ends happily please?
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 I tried my best to make it a happy ending and still keeping Eddie at blame.
Who's your girlfriend?
Y/N and Eddie's relationship never had arguments or disagreements. They worked perfectly together. But lately, a new girl shook things up.
Her name was Maddie, and Y/N hated her. She was a waitress at the hideout. Eddie and Y/N spent most of their time at the hideout, cuddled in their booth. It was something Y/N looked forward to every day, but now it sucked.
Maddie knew Eddie was taken, and she didn't care. She spent most of her shifts flirting with Eddie and it pained Y/N that he never told her to back off.
"Anything else?" Maddie asked, her attention on Eddie.
"We are all set, thank you." Eddie smiled, taking the check from Maddie's hand. She smiled back and walked off.
"Help me with the math?" Eddie asked as he handed Y/N the receipt. Y/N went to calculate a tip when she noticed tiny scribbles in the corner.
"What a bitch!" Y/N snarled, slamming the receipt on the table. "She wrote her fucking phone number."
"So? Ignore it." Eddie shrugged, digging cash out of his wallet.
"Ignore it? Eddie! She flirts with you all the time, and I try to ignore it. But this is straight disrespect. And I think you need to say something." Y/N explained.
"She doesn't mean it, you know waitresses do the most for a tip."
"I think she wants more than just the tip, Eddie," Y/N growled, and she slid out of the booth. Eddie followed after.
"Don't be like that. You know I've only got eyes for you." Eddie said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. But she shrugged him off and crossed her arms. She marched out of the bar, and Eddie tried to keep up.
"You're right, I'm sorry. Next time I'll say something." Eddie promised, grabbing her hand to make her stop.
Y/N sighed and kicked at the rocks in the parking lot.
"You will?" She asked, her sad eyes looking up at him.
"Of course." He said. Y/N let it go, holding his hand as they walked to his van and went home.
~
Y/N took deep breaths as they walked into the hideout. She was excited to finally see Eddie put Maddie in her place.
They sat down in their booth, no surprise Maddie was ready to serve them immediately. Her eyes stayed on Eddie as he ordered their drinks.
"You got it, handsome." Maddie flirted and then walked off.
Y/N kicked Eddie under the table, giving him a look. Her eyes hinted at Maddie.
"She's a nice girl, baby. Just being friendly." Eddie reassured her, moving closer to wrap his arm around her shoulder.
Y/N rolled her eyes but dropped it. The night was young and there would be plenty of time for Eddie to shut Maddie up. Y/N cuddled into his shoulder. She held the hand that hovered over her shoulder and pecked his jaw.
Maybe them being so cuddled up would help Maddie get the hint.
It didn't
Towards the end of their date, Maddie and Eddie got in a conversation about rock bands. Eddie removed his arm to talk with his hands. Y/N felt like the third wheel as she slurped down her drink.
Y/N was ready to leave. She couldn't sit here and watch them talk like she didn't exist.
"Excuse us, but we are leaving," Y/N said, standing up as she got out of the booth. She didn't care what Eddie had to say, she yanked him out of his spot.
"Oh, um bye!" Maddie rushed out as Y/N dragged Eddie out of the door.
"Well, that was rude." Eddie scoffed
"Rude? What was rude was you two acting like I wasn't even there! What was rude is that you told me you'd tell her off and you sat there like an idiot!" Y/N huffed, letting go of his hand as they made it to the van.
"She wasn't doing anything! We were having a friendly conversation." Eddie defended, starting the van.
"Friendly? Yeah right. I didn't know friendly conversations meant she'd be rubbing your arm and giggling at every fucking word. Trust me, babe. You are not that funny." Y/N said she knew she was being bitchy but she was beyond pissed.
"Why don't we talk about this when you calm down?" Eddie offered, peeling out of the parking lot.
But she never calmed down. She slammed the trailer door behind her as she marched into Eddie's room.
"Baby, come on let's talk" Eddie tried
"Nope. You didn't want to talk in the car so oh well. I am going to bed." She said, stripping out of her clothes and changing into pajamas she always left at Eddie's.
Eddie sighed but got ready for bed as well. He bit his lip as they lay in silence. She refused to cuddle him or let him touch her. She was on her side with her back towards him.
"Look I'm sorry." He said, his hand touched her shoulder but she slapped it away.
"Sorry, my ass. Go to bed." She snapped.
A few minutes passed, and both lay in silence.
Eddie groaned as his phone rang, he slipped out of bed to answer. Y/N turned on the lamp and sat up confused. It was very late for someone to be calling and she was worried that Dustin or someone needed help.
"Yeah, I'll be right there," Eddie said and he hung up.
"What's going on?" Y/N asked, moving to her knees.
"Maddie needs a ride home. I'll be right back." Eddie said he slipped on his pants and his jacket.
"Excuse me?"
"I'll be right back! Just go to sleep, love." Eddie said, leaning down and kissing her forehead.
"Edward Munson, do not go pick up that girl," Y/N growled, her tone was deep and angry. Eddie felt a little nervous as she glared.
"She called me! I can't just leave her at work." Eddie tried to defend.
"Yeah, she can stay at work until her next shift. Or call someone else. I'm sure she's got family and friends." Y/N shrugged. Then it clicked, she had Eddie's number. Y/N's face hardened and Eddie stepped back.
Her feet landed on the floor as her finger stabbed into Eddie's chest. He walked backward until his body hit his wall.
"She has your number, which means you called her! Which means you kept that receipt with her number on it." Y/N seethed. She couldn't believe her boyfriend kept Maddie's number.
"Yes, I did. But it was just as friends!" Eddie tried to defend himself.
"You knew I didn't like that she did that. You knew that I thought it was disrespectful towards our relationship."
"But I don't see it like that! I truly don't see an issue."
"Don't see the issue? I thought I made it clear. She's into you and you are leading her on because you enjoy the attention." Y/N said, her anger turning into a bit of sadness. Her boyfriend was enjoying the attention of someone else.
"I really need to go get her. And we can talk when I get back?" Eddie asked, Y/N stepped back and let him move away from the wall.
She was done talking and she was done listening. She nodded but didn't say a word. She kept her eyes on the floor as Eddie grabbed his keys and left.
Y/N refused to cry, she sniffled and took a deep breath. As she heard the van's engine start, she started to pack. She grabbed the nearest bag she could find and threw everything she had in it. If Maddie wanted Eddie so damn bad, she could have him. It wasn't like Eddie didn't already pick her a thousand times over Y/N anyway.
"You okay, kid?" Y/N looked up from her frantic packing. Wayne stood at Eddie's door with a sad smile.
"Uh yeah. I'm sorry if we woke you up." Y/N apologized, and she zipped up the bag.
"I'm sorry he's an idiot. He's going to realize soon, it takes Eddie a bit to see the real picture." Wayne sighed.
"Yeah well I'm not going to wait for him to see it," Y/N said, she had the bag on her shoulder and walked past Wayne.
"Let me drive you home." Wayne offered, as he grabbed his keys.
~
Eddie yawned as he finally got back home. It was nearly two am and he was exhausted. He was mentally exhausted by what was behind the door. He didn't want to have to argue with Y/N all over again.
Eddie walked into the trailer, shocked to see Wayne sitting on the couch.
"Why are you awake?" Eddie asked
"Why are you just getting home?" Wayne asked
"A friend needed a ride home." Eddie shrugged, as he took off his shoes and jacket. "But I'll talk to you in the morning. I don't want to keep Y/N waiting."
"She left," Wayne said, a disappointed tone in his voice.
"What? Why?" Eddie asked, he looked into his bedroom and his heart stopped. Half of his room was missing, all her stuff was nowhere to be seen.
"Go find out. And for once, listen to her." Wayne said as he walked back into his own room.
Eddie threw back on his shoes and jacket and headed back out.
He wasn't sure how many laws he broke as he pulled into Y/N's driveway. He climbed up the tree that led him straight to her window. He tapped on the glass, the light was on so he knew she was still awake.
Y/N yanked open her curtains to see Eddie. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.
"What are you doing here?" She sighed, crossed her arms, and blocked him from coming inside.
"You left, of course, I'm going to come get you," Eddie said, she ignored his puppy eyes and kept her ground.
"Right. After you were done with Maddie, right?" Y/N said
"Look Y-" but Y/N cut him off.
"No, Edward. We've talked about it, I've said how I've felt and you don't care. A friendship with Maddie is too important to you. So how about you leave me the fuck alone and go back to the girl you actually treat like a girlfriend. We're done." Y/N snapped, she slammed down her window and closed the curtains. This time she allowed herself to cry, she turned off her light so he couldn't see her shadow. She heard him knocking but she refused. She ignored his cries and pleas, she crawled into bed and allowed herself to cry to sleep.
~~~
Eddie paced in the living room all night. He waited for Wayne to wake up because he had no idea what to do. He knew he brushed how Y/N felt, but he thought it was jealousy. He didn't know she'd break up with him over it. He kicked himself for not truly listening and fixing the issue at the start.
Wayne walked out and Eddie ambushed him before he even made it to the hallway.
"She broke up with me. What do I do?" Eddie rushed out, the panic in his voice made him sound shaky.
"I'm sorry, Eddie. But I can't tell you what to do." Wayne said as he walked into the kitchen.
"Wayne, please. I can't let this girl go. If I knew how to fix it, I would have done it last night. I stayed up thinking and thinking but I was scared. What if I fucked up too bad? What if she never wants to be with me again?" Eddie panicked. His hands were in his hair as he yanked in frustration.
"Eddie, that girl told you the problem a thousand times. Listen to what she said, and you'll know what to do. But don't wait, do it now. A girl like that deserves way more than you offered her. I didn't raise you to hurt girls." Wayne lectured as he poured his coffee.
~
Eddie knew what he needed to do. He raced to Y/N's. Luckily it was a normal time so he could use the front door. He knocked and waited.
Y/N opened the door and went to slam it but Eddie caught it with his foot.
"Please, just give me a second to apologize."
Y/N sighed and opened the door.
"I'm sorry for pushing your feelings aside. I'm sorry for being a dick, and a bad boyfriend. I should have said something to Maddie the first time you felt uncomfortable. I'm sorry for everything and for making you upset. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm going to hate myself forever if I don't try to save this relationship. If I woke up one morning, alone in my thirties, knowing I could have had you right next to me and I didn't try for it. So please," he dropped to his knees and grabbed her hand. "Let me show you I heard you."
Y/N was confused about what it all meant, but she knew she loved Eddie and if there was a way to fix it, she wanted to do it.
"Okay, fine. What's your plan?" Y/N asked. Eddie jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. He closed her front door and dragged her to his car.
"What are you doing?" She asked, but Eddie just had a big smile on his face.
"Something I should have done a long time ago." He said as he began to drive.
Y/N sat silently as she took in her surroundings. It clicked that they were heading to the hideout.
"Isn't it a little early to drink?" Y/N teased as Eddie pulled up into the parking lot.
"Yes, but that's not why we are here," Eddie said, he got out of the van and opened her door. He grabbed her hand and walked up to the front door, but didn't go in.
"Are we not going in?" Y/N asked
"We are, just need to do something first," Eddie said.
Y/N rolled her eyes as she saw Maddie walk up. She wasn't dressed in uniform so Y/N assumed she wasn't working.
"You wanted to see me?" Maddie asked, nervously looking at Eddie.
Y/N looked confused between both of them.
"Maddie, I am completely in love with Y/N. I know it was wrong of me to feed into your flirting. Even if I only wanted to be friends, I realize now it makes my girl uncomfortable and that's what matters the most. I also know now that your actions towards me were disrespectful to my relationship and whatever you thought was happening, is not happening. I've deleted your number, so I'd like it if you didn't call me ever again and never talked to me again." Eddie said, Y/N tried to hold back her laugh as steam came out of Maddie's ears.
Maddie didn't say anything, she stomped off and mumbled curse words under her breath.
"I know it doesn't fix everything. But I hope it's a start." Eddie said.
"It's definitely a start." Y/N smiled, holding Eddie's hand as they walked into the hideout. She gasped as she saw the whole small bar lit up in fairy lights, their booth had candles and a display of breakfast foods.
"Oh wow."
"Would you join me for a breakfast date?" Eddie asked his hand gestures towards the table.
"Oh absolutely," Y/N smiled as she walked towards their booth.
It was a start in the right direction. Maddie was out of their hair, and fixing their relationship could have all their attention.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff#ashwhowrites
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Think I need someone Older.
Older!Rafe Cameron x fem reader concept.
After seeing your now ex boyfriend Topper with Sarah, you find comfort in his dad who had him really young.
Inspired by the book Birthday girl. In this universe, Sarah and Rafe are not siblings. Rafe is in his forties and reader is mid twenties.
Warnings: Age gap, talk of masturbation, thigh riding, praise, I think one use of degrading, one use of the word daddy, oral fem receiving and talks of Topper cheating/being a terrible boyfriend.
You were furious. You’ve had no luck for the past year. First, medical bills wouldn’t let you buy a car yet. Second, your boyfriend of two years, Topper Thornton cheated on you with Sarah Cameron.
It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means but you did care about Topper. How could you not? You’d been each other’s firsts. Shared so many memories and even moved in at his apartment.
You’d met his dad, Rafe Cameron a couple of times. Topper took his mother’s last name. Rafe had been a teen dad and now was in his forties yet he was really hot. Did you jerk off thinking about him sometimes? Maybe…
He’d always been nice to you, even apologizing for Topper’s rude behavior. Especially since your now ex boyfriend, called him to pick you up since you insisted on leaving. You’d caught him and some girl named Sarah in the act. Apparently it had been going on for a while.
You wanted to be petty and refuse the ride but you didn’t want to walk to a hotel in the dark.
Rafe listened to you cry and carry on as he drove you to his expensive penthouse. You sat on the couch with your tear stained cheeks as he gave you a bottle of water and a small glass of liquor.
“It’ll help.” Rafe gruffly ordered and smoothed back the slight salt and pepper peeking out of his short hair. He sat down next to you, his muscular thigh’s expanding and knee touching yours.
“sorry about him. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him.” He sighed and leaned his head back before giving you a glance. “He doesn’t deserve you.” Rafe said plainly.
“God, maybe I did something that made me deserve this.” You whispered and he sat up straight. Rafe extended his hand and gripped your chin. Turning you to face him fully.
“None of that, sweetheart. Topper did a shitty thing and it’s his own fault. Don’t be mad at yourself, baby.” His assurance moistened your mouth that was slightly parted.
You leaned into his touch that cupped your cheek, smoothing away the tears with his thumb. Rafe pulled his hand back, as if remembering himself and how this situation was turning.
“I should let you get some sleep-“ He started but your restraint shattered.
You climbed on his lap, your legs on either side of his crotch and your hands settled next to his head. Rafe’s blue eyes widened and his palms naturally fell at your hips. Grazing your ass that was covered by the loose fitting jeans.
He smelled so masculine, comforting and your attraction to him grew by his treatment of you. His age didn’t matter. You were a fully grown woman. It didn’t affect you that he was Topper’s dad.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Rafe groaned as you grind down on his dick. Your pussy throbbed as he guided you through it despite his words.
Your sadness morphed into hunger as you kissed him deeply. You sucked his lower lip, taking your time getting to know his mouth and tongue that licked at yours. But it wasn’t too much like guys your age. Rafe thrusted his lap, his fingers digging into your waist as your shirt rode up.
You shifted so you were riding his thigh, moving to nuzzle into his warm neck. Your lips attached to his pulse point, collarbone and your hands felt his chest. Your cunt seeped through your underwear, puffy clit chasing the friction as you sped up.
Your body was hot as Rafe bounced his leg, aiding to your movements. You whined and gripped his shirt.
“Needing to be fucked so bad you’re humping my leg like a puppy?” Rafe said between pants and his half closed lids admired you. “Is that why you’re so stressed all the time? You needed someone to make you cum?”
“Mhm,” You moaned in response and felt your release approaching. Rafe grabbed the back of your head, yanking you back to his lips in a harsh kiss. You could hardly concentrate as he nipped your lower lip with his teeth.
“Yeah? You about to cum? Go ahead, princess. Give it to me. Be a good girl and let go for daddy, huh?”
You came with a shuddered wail and curled your spine inward. Your body trembled as Rafe slipped his hand inside your pants, feeling your panties as you chased your high. He scooped up the cum inside the fabric, admiring the glistening fluid and popped it in his mouth.
“You taste better than a dream, baby girl. Now, I’m gonna lick up from the main source.” Rafe flipped you on your back effortlessly, yanking down your jeans and panties.
You saw his hard dick twitch at the sight of your swollen cunt. He clicked his tongue and reached down to spread you apart with two big fingers. His rings shining from your cum.
“Can’t believe any man would treat you like that. With a pussy soaked just from riding my leg. Goddamn,” He whispered and dipped down.
Rafe wasn’t shy at all. He shoved his face in, tongue lewdly and thoroughly savoring your clit. Your hands flew to his head, digging your nails and making him grunt. He held your thighs up and spread. Unlike other guys who barely touched you.
He sucked your center before shoving his tongue inside you. His nose hitting the right spot as you cried out and your nipples hardened. Rafe replaced his mouth with his fingers as he went back to your clit, moaning and curving deeply.
“Perfect fuckin pussy. Leaking all over my face.” His words were muffled as you reached your second orgasm. He fucked you through it with his mouth and kept plunging his fingers inside you.
Rafe kissed up your lower stomach, working his way up your chest and neck. “Oh, I’m gonna have some fun with you, sweetheart. You’re going to cum until you can’t keep those slutty little eyes open.” He smirked and hauled you off the couch.
Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysbabygirl @sturnioloshacker @cameronsprincess @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafecameroninterlude @redhead1180 @gri959 @stillwjk-channie-lixie
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#Rafe Cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron x reader#Rafe Cameron smut#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x smut#rafe#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x you#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#outer banks#outer banks season 4
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"go outside!"
━ in which the guy you're beefing with online turns out to be cute
modern au! kinich x reader
part 2 here!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"your builds are lackluster, I suggest using these artifacts for better damage" you read, gritting your teeth, about to smash the computer screen right in front of you.
It's been about 5 minutes since you started beefing with this random dude off the internet for apparently no reason. (you started it) about the builds of characters that you showcase.
"my builds aren't your business!" typing harshly on your keyboard, it's noises loud. almost instantly you get a respond back. "well, you posted saying you wanted an opinion on how good your character is. I just gave you the input you asked for." the reply reads.
"but you badiaccly worded it in a way that Impliees my builf is trash!" you type hastily, not bothering to fix the spelling mistakes. to be fair, you were overreacting a bit (a lot.) but you had a bad day today! and some random dude off the internet is making it worse.
"my apologies." he replies.
"..." you stare at the computer screen in front of you for a moment, wondering what to do. either you continue the petty fight you have or accept his apology right now. either way, it's your decision.
and somehow you choose to continue fighting the random stranger online!
almost instantly you type back a response, the clicks of your keyboard filling the room. "my apologies? MY APOLOGIES?! my apologies my ass. that wasn't genuine at all!" you type before hitting send. after a few seconds you see a reply pop up, "friend me, i'll help you build your character correctly."
THE AUDAC-
wait. if you did accept his offer, you can flex your newfound damage to your friends...
...
..
.
never mind!
"no!"
right after the reply you sent, a notification quickly popped up.
"have fun with your trash characters then, loser."
HUH?!
almost instantly you start typing a response the moment you saw those words on the computer screen.
"TRASH CHARACTERS?! TRASH?? CHARACTERS?? why are you even beefing with some stranger online. GET A LIFE!!"
"sorry that was my pet lizard."
.
PET LIZARD?? DOES HE THINK IM STUPID??
"you're kidding me. pet lizard?? you think I'd believe that?? you're just trying to find an excuse."
"no, I'm serious, that really was my lizard. his name is ajaw."
your eye twitched, is he really going to keep up with the 'my pet dog ate my homework' type of shit?? you sigh, maybe it was time to just let him go, i mean... he really used his lizard as an excuse... so you quickly type out a response, expecting the argument to be over. (no) "geez. just stop... go outside! this is actually really sad."
"I do go outside, I go out a lot actually"
man. now he's (you) dragging it out.
"i doubt that. proof?" you respond, closing your computer for the day, not expecting a reply. after a bad day, you really needed a good afternoon nap.
----
RING RIIINGGG RINGGG RINGGG
RINGGG RIIIIIINGGGG
loud ringing could be heard from your phone, instantly waking you up, delirious on whether it was the next day or in the middle of the night. you grab your phone lazily, the sound of ringing feeding you feelings of annoyance. as you look at your screen your alarm clock asking you to snooze more or stop the alarm.
obviously you would've chosen to snooze more. but you were feeling a bit more productive today! (spending all your time on games)
so you got up, turning your computer on getting ready to have another late night gaming session, when you something at the corner of your eye.
1 new message from almightydragonlord!
oh it was that rude fellow from earlier...
but of course you clicked on the notification, not expecting to see anything grand.
but your jaw instantly drops.
because in the video you see.
is a cute ass boy with dark hair and green eyes.
"hi sparklingtoots, I do go outside, as for this video, ajaw insisted on giving you hard concrete proof, I didn't really want to. but here you go."
as the video pans out you can see inside a helicopter..?
oh he's jumping out
wait.
HE'S JUMPING OUT?!
and when the camera pans outside the helicopter, the figure of the almightydragonlord was getting smaller and smaller as he falls down. with the video ending right when he pulls his parachute.
"what the fuck." was all you could say.
you stare off into space, what the hell did you just see? some cute dude skydiving off a helicopter? a really. really. cute dude skydiving off a helicopter? the cute dude you were beefing with a few hours ago?
and suddenly a notification popped up, your eyes almost bulging out of your sockets on what you see.
"see, i told you i do go outside."
and it follows up with something that makes you scream internally.
"accept my friend request too."
and of course you accepted this time.
#kinich x reader#kinich x you#kinich#kinich genshin#genshin kinich#genshin kinich x reader#kinich genshin x reader#ajaw#k'uhul ajaw#fluff#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin fanfic
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Always Yours (Izuku Midoriya x Female Reader)
Getting into an argument with ur loved one is NOT fun. Take this small Drabble 🤞🏽
And the 5 Izuku fans cheered !
like and reblogs much much appreciated <3
You and Izuku never argue. He’s the best boyfriend you can ask for. Holding the door, always giving you kisses and hugs, always letting you know that he’s grateful to have you in his life. This time was different. Sure you guys had different opinions but this time was a bit harsher. Izuku has been a bit distant forgetting about you due to his busy schedule and his training. Almost like he forgot about you. You brought it up as you two hung out yet Izuku’s tone seemed like he didn’t care. “Izuku what the fuck?” You asked in disbelief as he carelessly shrugged. “I’ve been busy and we need some space” he said looking at you not realizing what he just said as your heart dropped. He wanted space, you’ll give him space, as you stormed off.
Izuku knew he fucked up. He didn’t mean to be super sassy and rude about it as he watched you grab your bag and leave his dorm. He groaned running his hand through his hair knowing he had to fix this. He knew you like the back of his hand as he gave you some space before deciding to knock on your dorm. “Hey…Can I come in?” He asked softly as he could hear your footsteps approach the door and open it softly. You didn’t say anything as he came in. He took a look at your comfy dorm room and the photo of you two on A date framed on your desk. You sat on your bed as Izuku stood there. “Why are you here” you said bluntly as he froze for a moment, not expecting such a blunt response, he looked at you with a mix of surprise as you caught him off guard "Wait, I just want to talk." He spoke softly, holding his hands up slightly in a gesture of peace. “And I’m gonna nap so goodbye” you responded as you grabbed your blanket ready to ignore him. Izuku frowned slightly, realizing you weren't willing to hear him out. "I understand you're upset, but please, just hear me out. I know I messed up." He persisted gently, not wanting to leave without at least attempting to clear up the misunderstanding.
You were obviously upset. You loved Izuku so much and couldn’t stand arguing with him. So when he approached you with such softness and respect you realized that maybe you were being too harsh. "What I said before, about us needing space... I didn't mean it." He clarified sincerely, his eyes locking onto yours, hoping his words would reach you. You sat up on your bed staring at him realizing how genuine he was being. You didn’t want to be petty and argue over something stupid as your emotions got the best of you. Your eyes watered as he cupped your face gently, and you began to apologize sincerely tears streaming down “I’m sorry for being too harsh-you’ve always loved me and you’re so respectful and put me first-I don’t want to argue over something this small and-“ you rambled as he shook his head gently, dismissing your apology. "No, don’t be sorry. You have every right to be upset." He replied sincerely, his expression softening as he looked at you. “And it’s true, I’ve always loved you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will." He smiled softly at you still looking at your beautiful eyes. As he moved to sit on your bed, finding a comfortable spot together. He gently cupped your face in his hands, holding his gaze with warmth and reassurance. "Listen to me… I may make mistakes, but my love for you is unwavering." He whispered with 100% honesty.
Your gazes met, and the weight of the connection hung in the air. You guys leaned in close, your noses nearly touching."No matter what happens or how difficult things get, my feelings for you remain the same." He whispered softly, his voice filled with truth and affection. He pulled you gently into a heartfelt kiss, their lips meeting in a tender display of affection. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as their emotions intertwined.
"I’ve always been and will always be yours."
He murmured softly against your lips, expressing his unwavering commitment. The love and reassurance between them intensified, erasing any lingering doubts or distance gone, knowing he would always be by your side.
#mha#mha x reader#mha x you#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya#izuku x reader#izuku x y/n#izuku midoria x reader#arminsesposa#izuku midoriya x you#izuku x you#mha x y/n#mha x poc!reader#deku x reader#deku x y/n#deku x you#midoriya x reader#midoriya x you#midoriya x y/n#izuku midoryia x you#bnha x chubby reader#bnha x reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x you#bnha x fem!reader
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I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)
Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”
You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character
Wordcount: 3.5k
Find on Ao3 here :3
"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed.
"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach.
"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."
As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.
You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.
But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing.
"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked.
You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave."
You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."
You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"
He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"
You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-
"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."
You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed.
But you knew what he needed to hear.
"Douchebag," you repeated.
He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you.
"...Douchebag."
"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own."
You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft.
"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again.
You nodded.
"I need to hear you say it."
"G-got it."
"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."
You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."
"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping."
His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you.
He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"
No, you thought, I want us to be something different.
Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you?
He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"
"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.
"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens.
Oh no.
You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.
He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"
Fuck.
"What, uh… what do you-"
"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."
You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun.
What was happening, what were you doing?
"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.
You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully.
"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"
After a pause, you nodded too.
"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.
"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."
"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"
You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you.
"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you.
He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag."
"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform.
“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”
You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”
You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”
He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you.
When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"
Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."
"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-
You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you.
"You taste even better than you smell, amor."
Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me."
You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair.
You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?
Oh.
…He couldn't be serious.
But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride.
"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.
He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"
"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?
"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"
You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression.
"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."
"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.
"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact.
"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."
"Tell me when you're going to cum."
"Yes, yes I will."
He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second.
Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-"
Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised.
"Wha- what?"
He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."
Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release.
"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate.
He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.
"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying.
"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.
"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again.
He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you.
You nodded your head, answering his question.
"So, tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."
"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely."
He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist.
"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good."
"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.
He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."
You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."
Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"
"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.
"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it."
As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat.
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.
“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.
“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?
Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.
"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.”
You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking.
“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”
“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking.
He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath.
You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”
“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated.
He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it.
He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet.
“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#smut#my writing#ive got another one for you you sick bastards#this one was not beta read in the slightest so bear with me pls#hope you enjoy!#i will not stop the metalcore title/summary naming convention anytime soon so my condolences
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Girl prepare for a big one I’m sorry 😭
Gluten free, deep dish with Red sauce, Jalapeños, Tomato’s, and Ham, with Sun tea and a Vodka redbull and dessert?
Served by Lewis Hamilton
Special request: “can there be a fight for dominance but the reader looses?” Love the menu btw 💗💗💗
Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
gluten free rivals deep dish teammates red sauce rough sex jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" sun tea sir kink vodka redbull squirting dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton
Lewis x Rival Teammate! reader
TW - MEAN asf Lewis, reader can fight back, sorry for the things I said about you Kimi (I love you I promise!), squirting, unprotected sex, face slapping (once), multiple orgasms, truthfully might be the roughest sex I have written for this vlog (maybe other than Kinktober)
WC 2100+
Y/N POV
The meeting was finally over which had Lewis and I both popping up and scurrying off into our respective driver's room. We just finished our debrief after the Singapore qualifying after Lewis and I were found fighting in the garage when I refused to give him a slipstream after he didn't give me one back in Monza when I needed it.
Toto left the meeting at "You guys need to figure your shit out. Fuck or something." He even suggested. If only he knew...
I'm packing up my stuff when I hear a loud bang coming from Lewis's room making me stop and stare at the wall that connects our room before I hear Lewis should a loud fuck.
I slowly leave my room looking into the garage to see if anyone had heard Lewis's outbreak. When I noticed the entire garage was completely empty I walked next door to knock softly.
When I didn't get a response I trained my ears to see if Lewis was in the shower. When I can't hear the shower I softly open the door to find Lewis changing into a different pair of pants making my eyes instantly notice the bulge hidden from his briefs. I could tell he was far from rock hard which had my mind racing.
"Do you know how to fucking knock?" Lewis snaps making my eyes instantly move from staring at his bulge making my face grow hot slightly.
"I did knock," I snap back before turning to leave.
"No, wait!" Lewis shouted not letting me get a clean escape.
"What?" I ask while stepping into Lewis's room and closing the door behind me giving us some privacy in case we get into another screaming match.
"Why are you even in here?" Lewis asked referring to me coming in, in the first place.
"I heard a bang and then you shouted. Just wanted to make sure you where okay," I tell Lewis softly making Lewis nod.
"Ah, so you do have a heart! Spent the past three years convinced you where the fucking tin man," Lewis tells me with a sarcastic laugh falling from his lips.
"Lewis, literally shut the fuck up. You're getting replaced by a child next year because you threw a tantrum when Toto didn't give you what you wanted," I tell him makingg Lewis's face grow red in anger.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're the one who might get replaced by Max next year is Toto can swoon him," Lewis snaps back making me shrug my shoulders.
"Eh, at least I know the person replacing me has talent. Your replacement fucking crashed my car on lap three last time he got behind the wheel," I reply back trying to show the situation doesn't stress me out.
"You're fucking petty as shit. When Kimi crashed you were all like 'oh no I hope he's okay! He's just too sweet he better be okay'," Lewis replied back in a voice that was clearly trying to mock my voice.
"You're so fucking ridiculous Lewis. I wish it was you who retired and not Nico," I snap with vemon lacing my voice making Lewis stride towards me and push me against the wall. I knew I took it a step to far but truthfully I didn't care. I trusted that Lewis wouldn't hurt me but at the same time even if he did it wouldn't be the first time we hurt each other. While it was always words I could take a slap to the face like a champ.
"Do you enjoy pissing me off? Because you're a fucking child. You know that? Everyone has to walk on eggshells around you because one wrong move and BOOM the little Mercedes driver with the anger problems is throwing another fucking tantrum," Lewis spits his words into my face making me pull a disgusted face to try and mask the hurt coursing through me.
"You're a fucking asshole, Lewis Hamilton," I spit back making Lewis finally crash his lips onto mine making me gasp against his lips in shock before slightly relaxing into the kiss before pushing Lewis away once I realize who I was kissing.
"Don't fucking do this shit again," I snap at him before both of us fall silent just staring at each other while breathing rapidly.
It was clockwork for us, we go at each other's throats and somehow find ourselves in each other's bed to somehow kiss and make up, but in reality, all it is, is putting a fucking bandaid on a bullet hole.
At the same moment, Lewis and I are back to aggressively making out fighting for dominance. I get Lewis to the bed first making him sit down before I start pushing at his shoulders before I'm climbing into his lap taking control, which lasts about .3 seconds before I am being flipped around resulting in my back roughly hitting the hard physio table.
"Always such a fucking brat, trying to take control like that's your role," Lewis says while grinding his hips into mine making me moan at the pleasure.
"One of these days your little outbursts and attitude is gonna leave you ass so sore you won't be able to race," Lewis says making me roll my eyes at his threats.
"Then you won't get the damn slipstream you want so bad," I fight back with a satisfied smirk on my face with is quickly slapped off. I mean literally, Lewis slapped my face not necessarily softly but far from as hard as he could.
Lewis knew I loved when he mixed a bit of pain with my pleasure and early on found out he could send a quick slap to my face and it'll shut me up pretty quickly.
I just whimper when the sting settles in and I register what happened. Lewis is instantly gripping at my clothes and undressing me with no problem.
When I'm completely bare for Lewis he's like a madman being released because his mouth is instantly all over my pussy while also slipping three fingers into my unprepared hole making me softly scream at the stretch.
Lewis is instantly throwing his free hand over my mouth successfully muffling my screams not wanting anyone to walk by and hear what is going on between the two known rivals.
Lewis knew exactly what he was doing, so it was no shocker to him when I started begging to cum.
"Please, sir. I need it," I whine against his large hand that is still covering my mouth.
"Go on, it's the only thing you're good at," Lewis finally gives me permission making me instantly release my orgasm spraying my pleasure all over Lewis's face and soaking the shirt he was still wearing.
When I gether myself enough I look down to see the damage that has been done and it was so hot to see Lewis soaked with my juices.
"You're giving me at least two more before I even think about giving you my cock," Lewis said roughly while still finger fucking me making me whimper at the overstimulation.
Lewis knew my body better than anyone else ever has, which is only because he tied me to my hotel bed and explored my body until the sun rose finding all the ways he could make me cum, scream, whine, beg, you name it he probably discovered it that night. The night he found out I could squirt several times in a row in quick succession if he just kept going.
"Sir," I announce loudly when I feel the band in my stomach start to grow again.
"Go on," Lewis says with a sass in his voice almost like he was annoyed.
"Oh fuck," I whimper out when I finally feel the band snap making me start spraying all over Lewis's driver's room again.
"God, you're so fucking easy. I bet I could make you squirt if I looked at you hard enough," Lewis said in mockery knowing damn well he could blow a little bit of air on my clit and I'd be cumming for him in a matter of seconds.
"I need one more," Lewis said while speeding up his fingers again making me whine when I feel my third orgasm approaching making me squirm trying to get away but Lewis was far stronger than me making it easy to overpower me and keep me down while he finger fucks me into another squirting orgasm that has me gasping for air. I could hear my squirt hitting difference surfaces around us making the deed that much dirtier.
I am sure everyone will hear about this by the next race because no way the poor cleaner who has to come in after us will keep their mouth shut when they realize the dried liquid all around the room is in fact the evidence of the pleasure of the female driver.
"Good fucking girl! Good to know your ears work sometimes," Lewis says while stepping away from my pussy before sending a rough slap down on my sensitive clit making me jerk and a little bit a squirt come out making Lewis laugh at the slut he had turned me into for him.
"Please sir, more," I gasp when I feel Lewis's tip teasing my dripping entrance inviting him to sink in.
"You know you're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" says Lewis as he sinks into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.
"Fucking hell, how are you still this fucking tihgt?" Lewis questions while he starts thrusting making me whimper feeling the stretch all over my body.
"Fuck, I'm gonna have to spend more time in you, maybe make you sleep with my cock burried in this pussy, make it a perfect fucking fit for me to play with," Lewis continues making me whimer and clench around him.
"So good, sir," I gasp when Lewis's hips are snapping into mine at a brutal pace.
"Fuck! How are you about to cum again," Lewis groans when he feels my pussy contracting around his cock ready to fall into another orgasm.
"You know what to do," Lewis says giving me permission for my fourth orgasm of the night making me scream out loudly.
My tightening pussy was Lewis's final straw because next thing I know he's pulling out and cumming on my stomach making sure to paint my tits a bit with his cum.
He loved the way he could coat my body in his cum.
Once Lewis settles down from his pleasure he climbs out of the hard bed looking for a towel he can use to whip me down.
Once I'm clean from his cum he pulls me up slightly so he can stand between my legs while he holds me to his chest.
"You think Toto knows the truth?" I mumble against Lewis's tattooed chest making me chuckle softly.
"Probably and if not before he's definitely gonna think we listened to his advice," Lewis jokes making me laugh with him.
"We have a problem," I mumble burying my face into his chest not wanting to admit the problem.
"What is it, sweet girl?" Lewis questions showing me the sweet side I only got to see after moments like this or early in the morning when we knew no one could see that the two rivals actually had hearts.
"I can't feel my legs and I truthfully do not want to get into someone else's car covered in sweat and cum," I mumble making Lewis laugh lightly.
"Well you have in fact left your sweat and cum in my car so I'll take us back to the hotel, and I have no issues holding you until you're ready," Lewis tells me softly before picking me up into his arms and pulling us to the couch where he held me.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have screamed in your face like that," Lewis apologizes clearly embarrassed by his actions.
"I said some pretty ugly things too. I think we need to work on that," I tell him softly making him hum in agreeance.
"Still want you to fuck me like that, even if it does make driving a bit uncomfortable," I tell him making Lewis let out a belly laugh.
"I'll always fuck you like a whore. You love it too much for me to stop," Lewis tells me making me smile.
We lay like that for another thirty minutes before we heard a knock on the door before we could hear Toto's voice shout, "I see you took my advice! It better fucking work!"
Lewis and I just laugh at being called out but make no move to get up and get dressed knowing Toto wasn't going to open the door.
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x you#formula one imagines#formula 1 x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton#lh44 x reader#lh44 fic#team lh44#lh44#lh44 smut#lh44 x you#lh44 imagines#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton imagines#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#f1 smut#f1 imagines#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine
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Hello and good morning~ I was listening to RED by taylor swift while working and suddenly ALL I could think of was the Sylus series (and how MC thinks she was rejected). 💙❤️ Think this song fits them so well
I have been meaning to answer this ask since you sent it, but it gave me a little Scenario that I had to carry around in my head until I could figure out how to work it into a story. Your ask, in combination with a post by @leaderincrows about wanting to see Sylus collared and gasping pathetically, led to this story. I hope the result is enjoyable. Thanks so much for sending this ask, and I'm sorry it took 8 million years to answer!
Goodcat code, or how you learned to care for your catboy | ao3 | masterlist
Summary: Your crimelord boyfriend disappears for a week, you make yourself sad listening to breakup songs, you learn that he got turned into a catboy, you get assigned a mission on the worst cruise ship ever, undercover shenanigans ensue. Loosely based on the Sylus memory Goodcat Code.
Notes: Sylus x gn reader, sylus x mc, second person POV, some Sylus POV MC is referred to by they/them pronouns, intended as a placeholder for your preferred pronouns. Established relationship, can be read as a standalone. This story contains: profanity, activities of a sexual nature, violence, probably too much internal monologue and not enough action, too many feelings and not enough sexual activity, inappropriate use of a tail, an argument with your boyfriend, a happy ending.
You wonder if it’s because you trounced him in kitty cards the last time you played.
The silence.
For the past week, your phone has been pinging with constant notifications but none with My Sy listed as the sender. Just work, spam, Xavier asking if you want to go to the bookstore the next time you’re both free, Tara spamming you with pleas to go to some shitty club where her latest favorite indie EDM DJ is playing—why she thinks that her insistence that “He looks just like Skye, I promise!” is enough incentive for you to wade through loud, sweaty, touch-feely dancers as you can’t help constantly checking the exits, while simultaneously making sure a molly-rolling Tara doesn’t abscond to the bathroom with a mistake waiting to happen, while being subjected to mediocre beats from her artist-of-the week, is beyond you. “Skye” is gorgeous, yes, but you’d rather admire the real thing up close than squint through a fog-machine haze to look at a cheap knock-off.
Maybe Sylus’s snobbery is rubbing off on you.
Then again, Tara doesn��t know how up close you get to examine Skye on a regular basis, so perhaps you’re being unfair, because you’re in a terrible mood, because you haven’t heard from him for a week now.
Because maybe you won’t have the chance to see “Skye” up close ever again. Because all you have is a deafening silence from him, and it started the day after you wiped the floor with him at the kitty cafe playing kitty cards.
Could something so petty cause him to finally lose interest in you, the way you've feared ever since you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that Sylus may be romantically interested in you?
It’s not your fault that the longer you spend time with him, the more you have unraveled his mysteries. If he doesn’t want to be so easy to beat, he needs to try harder to be less predictable. You never would have thought, when you first met him, that you’d ever think the words “predictable” and “Sylus” in the same sentence, but the mercurial man is like clockwork when it comes to kitty cards.
He always, always offers you the chance to go first. Why on earth would you say no, and then lose the chance to play your inevitably shitty, low-value cards in the matching colored cups, just to prevent him from playing one of his inevitably high valued cards in the matching cup?
He grumbles, tries to give “helpful” advice about being patient and gambling on drawing a higher value card instead, all the while doing the exact same thing when it’s his turn and he has a shit hand. The condescending hypocrite. You stew a bit thinking about it.
And then, you’ve long since learned that the arrogant bastard is cheating while you play. He somehow marks the cards—you don’t know how. Something to do with his evol? He refuses to admit it outright, so you doubt you’ll ever know. But what you first thought was a generous habit of offering to give you two of his cards for one of yours, actually turns out to be an opportunity for him to offload his low value cards and give himself a chance to poach your higher value cards. You refuse his offers now.
And lastly, you’ve figured out that for all of Sylus’s skill, brilliant brain, and talent at strategy, the man has a few weaknesses that you are ruthlessly willing to exploit to gain the upper hand to beat him despite all of his dirty tricks.
Namely, he’s easily distracted by a few very specific things.
Your mouth being one of them.
So last week, you went first, played your shit cards in the colored cups, refused his offers to trade, and ordered a strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream to enjoy while you played.
He leaned back in his seat at the kitty cafe where he was sitting across from you, manspreading as usual, arms casually draped over the back of the booth, the picture of casual, smug confidence. The dictionary definition of winner.
“Do you really have the luxury of splitting your focus between the game and your dessert, kitten? It looks like you need all of your concentration just to keep up, let alone win this round,” he drawled, secure in his five point lead over you. It was his turn, and yet he had time to taunt you.
You just shrugged, holding your cards fanned in one hand, dipping your finger in the whipped cream with your other. You brought it to your lips, pretending to think very hard about which card you’d play next when all of them were crap, and rubbed the cream over your bottom lip.
You heard a sharp inhale from the other side of the table, but ignored it. You “absentmindedly” flicked your tongue out, gathering the cream there before swallowing and biting your lip pensively.
“It’s good,” you murmured, not taking your eyes off your cards. “Not too sweet.”
Silence. It took all of your willpower not to look up to see what his face was doing. But you heard him place a kitty in a cup, its cute little meow signaling the start of your turn.
You let your gaze flick back and forth between the board and your cards. Good. It was working. He played a low value card in a white cup instead of drawing a new card like he should have.
You put your crap sage card in the last sage-colored cup. Sylus tsked and drew a new card.
This time, you picked up one of the glazed strawberries adorning the shortcake and placed it between your lips, sucking on it gently as you “thought.”
The groan coming from across the table was so low that you almost didn’t hear it over the sounds of the cafe—other players chatting, the meows of the kitties, the clink of cutlery and tableware. But you heard it, even through your tinnitus.
You played another low value card in a matching cup—the last one. Unless he had a six, this round is yours.
You finally dared to look up and find Sylus glaring at you, all while petting a beautiful, tawny colored cafe cat that had apparently settled in his lap while you were busy trying to distract him and beat his ass at this ridiculous game.
“Sy, you know the rules of the cafe—no petting the cats unless we pay extra!” You looked around furtively, forgetting the game, worried that the staff were going to get mad and kick you both out for this breach of etiquette. You pay first, then pet!
“I can’t help it if, unlike some, this particular kitty is straightforward enough to ask for pets from me,” he said pointedly. “Who am I to deny its desires?”
In response, you popped the strawberry fully into your mouth, closed your eyes, and bit down, letting out a genuine little sound of appreciation for the sweet fruit.
Suddenly there was a disgruntled mewl from across the table. You opened your eyes and saw Sylus with a death grip on the cat where he was previously petting it gently. The cat squirmed, trying to get off of his lap. He blinked and let go of the cat, which then bolted off of his lap like he had just yanked its tail—which he hadn’t, but Sylus’s grip was no joke. You would know.
He watched the cat, a rare apologetic look on his face, before turning to glare at you again. “If we get kicked out, it will be your fault,” he accused.
You just looked back at him innocently. “What on earth did I do?”
“Maybe I’ve been too soft with you, and you’ve gotten too comfortable with me—you grow more cunning by the day,” he said softly, almost like a threat, but he looked… pleased.
“Still have no idea what you’re talking about,” you hummed, taking a big forkful of the shortcake and shoving it in your mouth.
Sylus just groaned again. He lost every game the two of you played the rest of the evening.
When you parted ways with him, heading back home to sleep while he was heading to a meeting, he pulled you into his arms as you stood by your motorcycle. He breathed in your hair and sighed, and then pulled away, turning on his heel, and walking away without a backwards glance.
And that’s the last you heard from him since that night.
You sit at your kitchen table, staring glumly out into the chill fall night. Your phone lights up, but it’s just Rafayel sending a photo of a little crab brandishing a plastic spork captioned Lol littering humans suck but at least this trash is useful for this lil guy he’s got a sword now
You often wonder why both Rafayel and Sylus sometimes refer to humans as if they themselves are not also human. You text back.
You: he just needs a shield. give him a bottle cap and he can fight wanderers with me
Fried Shrimp: nope he’s my new bodyguard because you suck too and have been too busy lately to guard my body like you promised
You: you’re perfectly capable of guarding yourself you pyromaniac
Rafayel just responds with a poop emoji.
You consider his text. Rafayel may have a point for once—you have been spending every free moment that you're not working with Sylus lately.
Which is bad. You don’t want him to take over your life. You want to maintain a balanced, a healthy relationship with him, if possible. It would be so easy to let yourself be consumed by his charismatic, overwhelming presence in your life. But what happens when he disappears as quickly as he appeared?
You don’t want to think about it. But that point may have already arrived. You stare at your dark phone again.
You could… call him first. Or send a text. But you’re not to the point where you can bring yourself to contact him first. If he wants to talk to you, he isn’t shy about reaching out for your attention. He calls almost every day. To tell you that you need to expect a package. To complain about his bad luck at a poker game with business rivals. To pester you about when you’ll come visit him again. Mephisto hasn’t seen your face for two days, he’s starting to pout. The twins brought home ten different flavors of syrup for the espresso machine, look at what you’re doing to them, they’re going to get diabetes at this rate.
You don’t think you’re to the point of being able to handle being left on read by this man if you send a text first and he doesn’t answer.
It’s time to wallow. You reach for your phone, pull up your music app, and put Taylor Swift’s RED on repeat.
You’ll give it a few more days, and then you’ll put on Olivia Rodrigo. After another week, it will be Sabrina Carpenter, because you’ll probably have entered the anger stage of grief by then. After that, it will be Hozier, when you finally accept that Sylus will never be calling again and try to find the beauty in everything you’ve lost.
***
“Status report?” Sylus growls into the phone.
“Boss, I really think that you should reconsider this course of action,” Kieran’s voice is just loud enough for Sylus to be able to hear over the absolute cacophony of the closed cat cafe, which is considerable, even with his double, hypersensitive hearing due to his current… condition.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I asked for a status update,” Sylus hisses, and then clears his throat. He totally meant to hiss just then. His hissing has nothing to do with his current affliction.
“But I really must insist—” Kieran tries to argue, but he’s drowned out by the cat cafe’s OTTO.
“Caracal Butler! May I remind you that not only is your customer satisfaction rating in the negatives, but you are also not allowed to make personal phone calls on the kitties’ time!” The OTTO hovers menacingly in front of him.
“Oh, I’m so scared,” he responds, voice dripping with sarcasm. Even the robot should be able to discern his disdain.
“You should be,” it says, threateningly.
“Oh? And what are the kitties going to do that’s worse than what they’ve already done.” He flicks some cat hair off of his bespoke tuxedo. The fact that he’s going to have to get it de-haired and dry cleaned if he ever wants to wear it again just adds insult to injury, as he had been hoping to wear it with you to a Linkon City Symphony Orchestra’s performance soon. He had a matching outfit tailored for you at the same time he ordered this tux, so he has resigned himself to getting the damn thing cleaned when this... ordeal is over.
The OTTO jerks him out of his irritation with its nagging voice module. “It is protocol for this kitty cafe to act as a responsible caretaker for the kitties under our care. We require spaying and neutering of all kitties under this roof. You have not yet received such care.”
The threat in response to his sarcasm could not be clearer.
He narrows his eyes at the OTTO and feels his tail swish menacingly as his ears press flat to his hair.
“Come anywhere near my balls and I’ll fill this cat cafe with so many cat toys of the loud, exploding variety that there will be nothing left of either it, the cats, or you except a smoking crater.”
The OTTO flits backwards out of Sylus’s reach.
“Perhaps Caracal Butler may be allowed a limited number of private phone calls on the kitties’ time without repercussions,” it says, tone placating as it drifts quickly to the other side of the room.
“That’s what I thought,” Sylus growls again, and not because he’s been stripped of his evol and cursed with two fucking cat ears and a tail that betrays his emotions no matter how much self control he tries to exert, but because he meant to growl.
He returns his attention back to the phone as his patience wears ever thinner. “Status. Report.”
“Boss, I really must insist—” Kieran tries again, tone incredibly concerned, before being interrupted by Luke.
“Your hunter is listening to breakup songs and mopily staring at their phone every spare moment they get.”
Sylus’s ears swivel around to full attention and his tail thwacks a kitty climbing tower so hard it’s almost knocked off its base.
“Breakup songs? Why—”
“They obviously think you’ve ghosted them,” Luke continues. “Keep this up and you’re gonna lose them.”
Sylus tilts his head. Could you really believe that he’s capable of ever leaving your side before you tell him to leave and mean it? What an absolutely ridiculous notion. His tail swishes thoughtfully. He did not want you to see him like this—stripped of his power, kneeling to these demanding cats like a… well. Like a fucking catboy butler. He has his pride, after all. He was hoping that the curse would fade quickly and you’d be too busy with work and your social life to notice that he has been absent for a little while. And you hadn’t reached out to him either, during this time. He runs his gloved hand along his bottom lip before realizing that he’s been touching cats all day, makes a disgusted face, and taps his temple instead. Why hadn’t you reached out to him? His mind drifts over memories of all of your interactions with him when you are apart and he's been forced to make do with communicating to you via phone and text.
This is not the first time that it occurs to him that you have never, not once, reached out to him first. He is always the one calling you, texting you, sending you packages.
He stops, tail and ears still. He has noticed it, but he hasn't thought about it deeply. He's willing to chase you to the end of time, after all. But now, he wonders what he's missing. He is almost entirely sure that you miss him as much as he misses you when you’re apart. You always pick up the phone. You always respond to texts. As for sending packages, you've grumbled about not knowing what to gift a man who has everything, but he always reassures you that he already has everything he wants, as long as you’re there.
So why is it that you have never reached out to him first? He flicks his ears. It would be nice, if you reached out first, every once in a while. He doesn't require it. But it would be nice. He tucks that thought away for further analysis after the current problem is fixed.
Time to assess the damage, and then engage in damage control.
“What kind of breakup songs?” he asks.
“Currently listening to RED by Taylor Swift.”
Sylus considers. Taylor Swift isn’t as bad as Sabrina Carpenter, or Hozier. Once you start with Hozier, Sylus will really be worried.
“Are you gonna stop being a big scaredy-cat and contact your hunter now?” Luke demands, sounding absolutely done with his ridiculous boss and his equally ridiculous partner.
Sylus values the intel they just provided, so he lets the insubordination slide. This time.
“I will remedy the situation. You’re dismissed from hunter observation detail.”
All he hears are twinned sighs of relief and then the phone disconnecting. He stares at it. What impudent henchmen.
He turns and wades through the meandering cats to the OTTO.
“I’m leaving, but I will be back to fulfill my contract once a personal emergency has been resolved.”
The OTTO, with his previous threats clearly still fresh in its memory, meekly allows him to pass without any fuss.
He steps out into the cold winter evening, the street lights and bright advertisements of Linkon City temporarily blinding him. Normally he would just teleport along rooftops to get to you as quickly as possible in such an emergency, but with this fucking curse, he has to make his way to your home like a regular human. His lip curls in disgust, but then he schools his face into its customary blank, intimidating expression as he notices people passing by gawking at his swishing tail and his cat ears. He’s drawing enough attention to himself without looking threatening while doing it. He quickly strides to where he parked his motorcycle, jams his helmet on his head, and breaks six different traffic laws trying to get to your place as quickly as possible.
***
You’re trying to wallow, snuggled into your bedding with a tray of some sad soup heated up from a can and a chunk of stale bread, when your hunter watch pings. You flick through the new assignment. Some asshole smuggler in biologically modified wanderers code-named “Snowy Owl” apparently needs to be brought down. You slurp some soup while you try to formulate a plan of action for snaring this new target, who has in turn snared many innocent wanderers to then sell them to shady collectors with who knows what kind of intentions for them.
This is just the sort of thing that you’ve all too easily grown accustomed to discussing with Sylus, due to his spiderweb of connections through the underworld. But isn’t that part of the problem? Where before you would rely on yourself and Association resources to arrange a mission of this kind, now you’re all too comfortable relying on Sylus for help. That sort of sloppiness is unacceptable, and the gaping absence he’s left behind in the last week only serves to drive that point home. You cannot let the blade of your skills dull because of reliance on your all-too-willing-to-help boyfriend. Maybe ex-boyfriend, you think miserably.
You sigh, leaning back, turning up the music that you had previously turned down to focus on the mission details. You’re trying to drown out all thoughts of the man who you need to get out of your head, only to find yourself yelping in surprise and flinging the tray with the soup at the tall intruder who has just silently appeared at the side of your bed—who you hadn’t heard at all, as if they had entered on padded cat paws.
Only to realize halfway through the soup’s trajectory that the intruder is Sylus and he’s wearing a very fancy suit.
All the previous times you have flung tableware containing hot liquid at him, Sylus has been able to dodge the container, if not its contents, because of his evol. But this time he’s struck square in the chest by both the soup and the soup bowl. It hits one big pec with a dull thud and then crashes to your floor. He stands there, dripping soup, looking down at his dress shoes.
“The fuck, Sylus,” you breathe, not because he appeared out of nowhere in your home, again, but because you can clearly see two twitching, incredibly real-looking cat ears—tawny, fuzzy on the insides, coming to a beautiful, regal black point at the top—swiveling through his gorgeous silver hair. As your eyes travel down his long, lovely body, they catch on a flicking cat-tail with the same coloring as his ears. Something about the fur strikes you as familiar, but you can’t quite figure out why.
“Darling. Dearest to my heart. My heart, in fact, beating within the safety of my ribcage. Could you, perhaps, in the future, try to refrain from assaulting me with molten liquid when I surprise you in your home.” His tail swishes, swishes, swishes behind him, and you’re utterly mesmerized. It takes a moment for it to sink in that Sylus is actually here. You want to scramble off the bed, climb him like a tree, the dripping soup be damned, and just hug him. Now that you’re seeing him in person for the first time in a whole week, you are able to actually feel how much you’ve missed him, instead of suppressing, repressing, pretending that the unending ache didn’t hurt so terribly much.
You’re about to launch yourself at him when you remember why you had been feeling this way all week. Where the hell has he been? And why does he have cat attributes now? Well, more than he already had to begin with, you snicker internally, until you remember that you’re still feeling heartbroken and wary of why he has shown up now after ghosting you all week. Are you being melodramatic? Are you being immature? Are you being unfair? Could you have called him to check in, when he didn’t? You eye his ears. His tail. Yes to all of the above, but it doesn’t change how you simply can’t bring yourself to go to him, and instead draw further back, away from him, on the bed.
He apparently doesn’t miss your movement, as his ears swivel forward as you move, and then flatten onto the top of his head as he assumes an aggressively bored expression on his face.
“Not going to answer me?” he growls. Actually growls, like a cat warning a naughty kitten.
You can’t help yourself. “Who’s actually the kitten now, Sylus?”
His tail flicks violently behind him.
“Careful, kitten. Perhaps you’ve forgotten in the past week that this cat has claws,” he says, low and menacing.
You just laugh at him.
“Mmmm, yes, your oh-so-so sharp claws, which are now covered in soup. What are you doing here?”
He narrows his eyes at your unimpressed reaction to his empty threat. “Do I need a reason to visit my heart?”
The more he acts like nothing has changed, as if he didn’t just disappear on you without a word for a week, the more wound up and jittery you feel. “What heart?” you ask, a little petulantly.
He lifts an eyebrow. “You know the answer to that question.”
“Do I? Not a very important organ, if you can survive a week without it,” you grumble.
His ears swivel forward, and his tail starts to… wag, but his facial expression doesn’t change.
You immediately regret revealing so much.
“Ah,” is all he says, but he sounds pleased.
You look away, out the window. But all you see is Sylus in the reflection, and the dark night beyond. You’ve said too much already.
“I’m going to change. And then we’re going to talk,” he announces, and it sounds like a purr.
You feel silly as you realize that Taylor Swift is still warbling loudly in your bedroom about loving him but losing him so suddenly, trying to stop when you’re already in free fall, loving him being like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all. You flick off the music.
He’s here again. He’s here again, but for how long?
You hear water running in the bathroom as you go to the kitchen to grab some towels and return to your bedroom to mop up the soup, tidying your embarrassingly messy flat along the way. You return to bed and wait for him.
After a few minutes, Sylus emerges from your bathroom clad in one of the soft sweaters and silk sleep pants he keeps in your closet. You can’t help yourself again—you stare at where his tail emerges from under the sweater. The flexible waistband of the pants must have been pushed down a little over his ass to accommodate where his tail emerges.
He strides to the bed and pauses next to it. “May I?” he asks, tail flicking, ears twitching.
You nod, and he prowls onto your duvet on his hands and knees. Before settling next to you, however, he turns in a circle, once, twice, three times, before sinking down and pulling you into his arms, your back to his chest, curling around you. You let him, feeling the flood of safety and sense of wholeness that you always get when Sylus is touching you. You sigh. All of your worries seem so trite now. Why didn’t you just text him first? Why did you wait for him to reach out first? Why are you like this?
As if reading your mind, Sylus says, “Were you worried this week?”
His arms are wrapped tightly around you, he has one leg shoved between yours, and you feel his tail curl around your bare ankle. Its fur is so, so soft.
You nod.
“Why didn’t you call me, then?”
You don’t want to tell him how afraid you are of him finally not answering. Of him finally losing interest. It sounds so pathetic to even think it, let alone say it out loud.
“I’m sorry about your fancy suit,” is all you can say.
He hums, and his tail wraps tighter around your ankle. “It’s a tuxedo. And it can be cleaned.”
“Fancy suit, tuxedo—pretentious, overpriced pieces of fabric,” you tease him.
“My heart is a heathen,” he sighs into your hair. “It’s a tux that matches pretentious, overpriced pieces of fabric that happen to fit your body perfectly.”
“What use do I have for such fabric?” you ask, turning in his arms, lulled by his familiar humor, his still-unexplained tail wrapped around your ankle. You lie on your side, facing him. His ears twitch in your direction.
“There's a ticket to the Linkon City Symphony Orchestra with your name on it. You should note the date in your agenda.”
“What if my agenda is already full? I haven’t heard from you for a week.”
His ears flatten in his hair. “You’d replace me in just a week?”
You hum a little, reaching up to run a finger along one cat ear. He makes a purring sound, deep in his throat, closing his lovely eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replace you, even if I wanted to,” you murmur, lost in his presence again, feeling safe now that he’s here again. But the week was long, and you really were afraid he’d left for good, no matter how silly it seems now. “But maybe I thought you had replaced me,” you admit, marveling at how soft the ear is, how good it feels to caress it between your forefinger and thumb. You want to kiss it, rub your face all over it. You lift your other hand and fondle his other ear.
His tail loosens on your ankle and begins drifting up your bare leg, the fur caressing your skin so gently, until it curls around one thigh and squeezes between your legs, right below where your thighs meet. You shiver at the sensation and forget to pet him for a moment.
“You should have more faith in your pet. Sometimes cats have business in the neighborhood that keeps them away for a few days, but they always come back home.”
“Did your ‘business’ have anything to do with your new accessories?”
He leans, shoving his head against your hands to remind you to keep petting him, and his tail drifts up, up, until it’s nudging between your legs. You gasp softly at the delicious pressure, but have enough presence of mind to keep massaging his ears.
“Yes,” he murmurs, a little breathless. “Like that.” You continue, and he continues teasing you with his tail. It’s not enough. You want more of him.
“How did you get the cat ears and tail, Sy?” you ask, trying to remain focused.
The tail nudges you a little harder—you can’t help the jerk of your hips which sends you rocking into him, where you’re met with his hard dick under the fabric of his pants. The sensation of his hardness against your front and his tail at your back is almost overwhelming.
“Your fault, kitten. You and that fucking strawberry last week,” he growls again, flexes his hips into yours. “That cat I was petting was unhappy with how roughly I handled it while you cockteased me with your cake,” he gasps as you grind back into him, as you widen your legs to let his tail do whatever it wants, restricted only by your sleep shorts. “The evol kitties cursed me for petting without paying, and for roughing up the cat.”
You can’t help it. Even through the pleasure, you burst out laughing.
“They cursed you with a tail and ears, and that’s why you avoided me all week?” It’s absurd. All that worry, thinking that he’d finally grown bored with you, because he was too, what? Embarrassed? to reveal that he’d been given such adorable attributes. “You mean we could have been doing this all week?” you ask, incredulous, as his tail rubs against your sensitive spots through your shorts, as it nudges you again and again, as Sylus loudly purrs from the pleasure you rubbing his ears and the friction against his big dick is bringing him.
He opens his eyes, half-lidded, lips parted, panting. One of his hands drifts down your back and takes a handful of your ass, pulling, bringing your hips against his cock again. He grinds you on himself, leans forward, licks a swipe up the side of your face.
“The biological markers that were affected by the ears and tail are tied to my own evol—I don’t have my ability to manipulate energy so long as this curse lasts,” he says, breath hitching with the movement of your bodies.
You lean forward, press your forehead against his, share his panting breath. “What does that have to do with not calling me?” you manage, even though all you want to do is rip his pants down, shove down your own shorts, and impale yourself on him.
“Didn’t want you to see me as weak,” he admits. He opens his eyes, looks into yours. He then kisses you with his full lips, soft, slow, in contrast to his tail still nudging you through your shorts at a steady rhythm, teasing, teasing, teasing.
You pull back from his kiss, catch his gaze again. “Even without your evol, you’re still one of the strongest people I’ve ever met,” you whisper.
He pauses, his ears flattening again. “Just ‘one of’ the strongest people you've met?”
You laugh. “I know a lot of strong people Sy. And your new bits are cute, just like you.” His tail firmly nudges you again, once, as if to warn you. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease him.
He just groans and kisses you again, his tongue slipping between your lips, his big hands moving to shove down your shorts. “I don’t make threats,” he says, low, smug. “I make promises.”
You roll your eyes, but neither of you talk any more after that.
***
Much, much later, after you’re thoroughly fucked out, muscles pleasantly sore, as Sylus purrs beside you in sleep, one arm flung over you, you lie awake thinking about his admission of worrying about being 'weak' in front of you. Of the vulnerability in his questions—why didn’t you call him if you were worried? Would you really replace him within a week?
You’ve been so wrapped up in your own insecurities, so busy trying to protect yourself from what you think is the inevitable pain of being abandoned, that you’ve never stopped to consider what Sylus may worry about. What his insecurities may be. He has always seemed so larger than life to you, from the very beginning. Invincible. Solitary and strong. But as you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve also had glimpses of his own tender heart, the same tender heart he warns you about having—a liability in his vicious world. The care he shows the twins, who he insists are just his henchmen but clearly love him like family. His meticulous maintenance of Mephisto, whenever the bird needs parts switched out, cleaning, or upgrades. His habit of masking his true feelings by maintaining a look of boredom, as if revealing such feelings is a vulnerability that even those closest to him could exploit. Even his tendency to cheat at kitty cards—his luck is so bad, and he works so hard to compensate for it in the best way that his brutal life has taught him. In the end, Sylus is just a person, like anyone else. Complicated. Layered. Strong and vulnerable, cruel and kind. You’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about him as something you crave, something you adore, as well as something you fear, a threat to your heart. Not always as just a person, with feelings of his own.
Feelings that include feelings for you, specifically. He has never hidden his care for you, not since those first days of knowing him. Even if he looks indifferent, the words coming out of his mouth are always achingly straightforward, and sweet in a way that sounds sarcastic but you have learned is actually simply the unvarnished truth. His actions—his gifts, his texting, calling, physical clinginess when you’re with him—in the quiet dark, with Sylus’s soft snores next to you, his cat ears twitching even in sleep, you realize how utterly unfair you’ve been to him. How one-sided this relationship has been up until now in a lot of ways.
You’re suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to show him how much you care about him too. How safe he is with you, just as he makes you feel safe whenever you’re together. You recognize that you need to do some work on yourself. That it’s not normal to go through life terrified of being abandoned. That the past does not predict the future. You can’t spend the rest of your relationship with Sylus, no matter how long or short it lasts, punishing him for the pain others have caused you.
You roll over in the dark and pepper his face with soft kisses, each one a silent apology for not calling him this week, when he probably needed to be reassured that you still care for the version of him with ears and a tail and stripped of his god-like abilities. How worried must he still be, moving through the world without such abilities, without his customary armor against a hostile world that wants him caged or dead?
As you lean over him, trailing your lips along his skin, his arms snake around you and pull you closer.
“Tell me what I did to deserve this, so I can do it again,” he says, voice raspy from sleep. His tail wraps around your waist.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” you whisper between kisses.
“A hunter’s trade secret?” You can hear his smile in the dark.
“A lover’s inability to properly articulate that all you have to do is continue being you.”
His tail tightens around you, and its end wildly thwacks your back. “That sounded pretty articulate to me. Your words are honeyed—is there a catch?”
You kiss him on his soft lips. His hands run along your hair, down your back.
“Only one way to find out,” you tease.
“I see you’re done pouting. Do I get any other rewards for just being me?” he asks, sly.
“Only one way to find out,” you repeat, nudging his nose with yours.
“Oh, I like surprises.”
“I know,” you say, because you do know that. You know so much about this man already.
He pauses, catches your gaze. “Keep it a secret, okay?”
Yet again, he’s showing you his weakness. Reminding you that he’s taking a risk by being here with you at all, just like you are risking your heart, and everything else, by being here with him. “Your secrets are safe with me, Sy.”
He holds you tighter in response, and you fall asleep in his arms. You don’t dream about anything at all.
***
In the morning, after you’ve made him coffee, after you’ve eaten breakfast and you’ve lounged on the couch with him, watching something stupid on tv while he browses online auctions, you tell him about your Snowy Owl mission. He’s heard of this person, but they’re not colleagues or rivals, moving in different circles. But he knows where to locate them, and you form a plan, inspired by Snowy Owl’s interest in modified wanderers and humans, and Sylus’s twitching ears.
“You want me to act as your catboy butler.” He says it flatly. “Boring.”
You nod. “And I’ll be your owner, willing to sell you to the highest bidder.”
His ears flatten against his hair, despite his bored expression, and his tail whips back and forth, back and forth, slowly. He really hates the idea.
“Do you have a better plan?” you ask.
“Better than you selling me off to someone else? I can think of a few. A carefully placed bomb on the cruise ship, for one.” At your look of discomfort, he continues. “You don’t even have to come. Just check off the mission as accomplished on your little Association to-do list.”
You scowl at him. “I’m supposed to bring Snowy Owl in, not assassinate them.”
“Boring,” he repeats.
“I’m not actually selling you to anyone, Sy. I just need a small distraction, much smaller than a bomb,” you cut him off as he opens his mouth. “While I plant a tracking device with them, once we pinpoint who they are.”
He leans over, rubs his cheek against yours. “What’s my reward for considering this utterly boring plan?” He drags your hand to the base of his tail.
You take the hint, grasping his tail firmly, and he groans. You pull a little, and he lets you, rolling onto his stomach on the couch. You straddle the back of his big, meaty thighs and begin palming his tail, starting at the base where it meets the skin of his lower back, circling your thumb and forefinger around it even though it’s thick enough that your fingers don’t meet. You pull, and pet, over and over again, and his purrs are so loud they start to vibrate the couch.
“Say yes,” you demand. “Put that tux and your new parts to good use before the concert.”
“Fine,” he gasps, as his hips jerk a little, pressing himself into the couch.
“Excellent!” You spring to your feet, heading to the shower. There’s not a moment to waste if you’re going to get this mission over with before his tail and ears disappear.
“Stingy!” he yowls. Literally yowls, like a big tomcat thwarted in his attempt at mating by a mean owner yanking him into the house from the alley where his would-be mate was waiting.
“Consider that the down payment. Upon delivery of your promise, you’ll get the rest,” you say in a sing-song voice, just to further annoy him.
“I want double!” he yowls again, but anything else he might be whining about is cut off when you let the bathroom door close behind you.
***
Sylus has been impeccable for the duration of your agreed-upon mission. Poised, elegant, obedient. He has tolerated you treating him like an object to be admired and dismissed on a whim, even when people approached you not just to express interest in your catboy butler up for bidding, but also when they showed interest in getting to know the mysterious owner of said catboy butler more intimately.
The only indication that he was perhaps not entirely pleased with his code name was a flick of his cat ears and one hard thwack of his tail against the rail of the cruise ship when you first said, “Please fetch me more of the strata, Mister Whiskers,” in front of the other guests on the dining deck.
Furthermore, he only tried to attack and eat one person’s pet parrot, and he dropped the seagulls he kept catching at each ordered “Drop it, Mister Whiskers!” from you every time.
All in all, you think that you’re having a harder time than he is. High tea is over, seagulls have been caught and released, and you’ve already collected a number of business cards and varying degrees of subtle invitations to further discuss your catboy butler. You’ve navigated each diplomatically, and are rather proud of yourself, but your own patience is wearing thin as you stand at a luxurious bar in a small lounge on one of the upper decks of the cruise ship. The floor to ceiling windows give a lovely view of the blood-red sunset over the water—it reminds you of Sylus’s eyes. The evening, and therefore the black market trading, is about to begin in earnest. You’re waiting for a mocktail—you’re on the job, and you are a professional after all—when yet another person sidles up to you. Sylus, who has been standing at a respectable distance from you at relaxed attention, hands crossed behind his back, looking coolly over the people scattered at elegant standing tables, ears swiveling at constant alert, looks toward the newcomer, but he makes no move to come closer to you. It occurs to you that one of the reasons you are feeling increasingly off-kilter is that you are so used to Sylus touching you, draping himself over you, maintaining at least a sliver of contact at all times, that this respectful distance makes you feel like he’s standing on the other side of a great canyon.
You turn to the person who is trying to join you at the bar. He’s handsome. Tall, muscular. Dressed nicely, with subtle style. Nothing like your boyfriend’s flashy jeweled necklaces and bold colors. His blue eyes are startling in contrast to his black hair.
“Hi,” he says, smiling a little ruefully, like he wanted to open with something better, but this is all he could think of. He knows that he’s handsome and can skate by on the bare minimum.
You smile faintly back at him, despite wishing Sylus would come closer. “Hi,” you say. You’re not going to do all the work, dammit. This guy wants something from you, not the other way around.
“You’ve caused quite a stir tonight with your… companion,” he says, dark eyebrows lifting, gaze darting to Sylus and back to you again. “It’s made for more entertainment than usual on nights like these.”
You lift an eyebrow in response. “Oh? How so?”
“Watching the sharks circling and getting into tussles about who will ultimately have your pet.”
Your stomach twists at hearing someone other than Sylus calling him a pet. He’s not your pet. He’s your partner. He’s a whole person—a complicated, vicious, funny, cruel, gentle man. You suddenly hate the appraising look this asshole is giving him. But you’re a professional, damn it. You smile wider, going for seductive, amused, haughty.
“No need to tussle,” you tilt your head. “It’s simple. Offer the highest bid, and congratulations, you’re the owner of a new, obedient, exotic pet.”
The fuckhead eyeing Sylus chuckles heartily, as if what you said isn’t disgusting but the height of rich-asshole humor.
“I like the idea of owning the obedience of such a big, powerful creature. Is he willing to do anything you ask?”
The way his gaze keeps flicking to Sylus, as if he can’t help himself, makes you want to remove his eyes with one of your knives and wear them as a warning to anyone else who dares look at Sylus with such depraved, cruel desire.
“Place the winning bid and maybe you’ll find out,” you say coyly, somehow controlling your homicidal urges. Barely.
“Something to consider.” He shakes his head, as if trying to break the spell Sylus seems to have over him. “In any case, after a while, all these events start blurring together. May I buy you a drink, to thank you for dumping new blood in the water?”
This guy is the pinnacle of rich guy ennui. He probably would enjoy dog fights or hunting other people for sport, anything to break through his privileged, seen-it-all, can-buy-it-all numbness. Despite sharing the same status of filthy rich elite, this piece of shit is everything that Sylus isn’t. You want to hunt him for sport. Your nerves are fraying, and it’s getting harder and harder to maintain your composure.
“Shame, I just ordered a drink.”
He leans closer, invades your space.
“Why not indulge? You can have two drinks. And after, perhaps you’d like to show me just what your cat can do… a sort of preview, if you will.” He leans even closer, tilts his head as if a new thought has just occurred to him. “Is there perhaps a possibility of bidding for the pair, instead of just the butler?”
You realize that he’s propositioning you as well as your catboy butler, but the fury you feel at the idea of using Sylus for this fuckhead’s viewing pleasure overrides even your indignation at the insinuation that you, too, are for sale.
Suddenly Sylus’s warmth is at your back and the effect is immediate. Your murderous rage settles inside of you. You turn to him, lift an eyebrow like the imperious owner you’re supposed to be, slightly irritated at your servant’s interruption of… whatever this asshole at the bar thinks he’s getting away with. “Speak,” you command, imitating the most imperious man you know. Sylus, as he has done the entire duration of your appearance in public on this ship, does not react at all to your obvious inside joke.
“My owner,” he purrs deferentially, dipping his head. “You asked that I escort you back to your cabin at 21:00 in order to properly prepare for the bidding.”
The asshole’s gaze drifts from Sylus to you and back again. “A possessive cat, I see. What will he do, when his owner abandons him to another?”
You shrug, as if you don’t want to pull this guy’s tongue out of his mouth and garrotte him with it.
“As I said, buy him and find out,” you breathe through the nausea, trying desperately to stay in character—you are the same ilk as this guy, here to pawn your broken, loyal manservant onto anyone who can afford him. “But he’s right. Thank you for the interesting … offer, but the auction is about to begin. Tick tock, tick tock.”
“You’re a very good salesperson,” he smirks, as if pleased with the idea of depriving Sylus of his beloved owner and seeing if he can bend him to his will. You can’t see why you ever thought him handsome at all. “A raincheck, then, on the drink, and perhaps your own company.”
You just lower your head slightly, barely suppressing the urge to put this man on the ground and punch his smug smile until he is permanently unrecognizable, and the intensity of your renewed desire to hurt him for daring to even look at Sylus has you reaching for Sylus’s arm for support. He tucks your hand into his elbow and leads you out of the lounge.
When you finally reach your first class cabin on this pretentious floating black market, however, you see the strain that his flawless behavior has placed on your miscreant boyfriend.
As soon as the door closes behind you, he growls, deep in his throat, and spins, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you more roughly than usual through the elegant sitting room—the place looks like the interior designer was trying to recreate the staterooms of the Titanic—to the bedroom. Without letting go of your wrist, he yanks the scarlet velvet duvet and crisp white sheets from the bed and dumps them on the floor. The ocean glitters under the bright moonlight outside the bedroom’s window, the salt scent strong. The bed successfully stripped, Sylus now tries to jerk you onto the mattress, but you dig your heels into the plush carpet, feet dragging because despite your own strength, you can’t match his. You jerk your wrist from his grasp and whirl on him. You are willing to die for him, but you aren’t going to let him manhandle you like this.
“What is wrong with you?” you demand, rubbing your wrist.
“If I still had my evol, you’d be on the bed.” His voice is still calm, but his tail flicks angrily.
“If you still had your evol, I hope you wouldn’t use it on me when you’re this upset,” you glare at him.
He doesn’t respond, just begins to pace. Around the bed. Back into the sitting room. He veers into the bathroom and then returns to the bedroom. The anxious energy he’s giving off is palpable—you’ve never seen him this agitated in the entire time you’ve known him.
The longer he’s quiet, the more concerned you become.
“Sylus?” you ask, softly. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m Sylus again? Not Mister fucking Whiskers?”
You stare at him. Your boyfriend, who is always up for teasing pet names and playful banter, is looking at you like he’s genuinely angry about the silly code name.
“Sylus—?”
His tail is thrashing back and forth as he continues to pace, ears flat against his hair. “Are you sure you’re interested in hearing how Mister Whiskers is doing now? You didn’t seem to be too interested when you were being fawned over by your suitors.”
You stare at him. At the tension he’s holding in his body, the wild movements of his tail.
“Sylus—”
“This was a boring plan to begin with, and now it’s even less interesting. You already have a mountain of gifts from my bidders—leave. Go through them to see if Snowy Owl has taken the bait so we can get this charade over with,” he snaps, effectively dismissing you. He sits on the side of the bed and puts his head in his hands.
With each harsh word, you feel your insides folding in on themselves. He hasn’t spoken to you like this since he held you captive when you first met. He promised he’d never treat you like that again, but you realize he never promised to never speak to you like that again.
Normally, how he’s talking to you—if it were any other person, you’d be out the door. Gone, ghosted. You speak to yourself cruelly enough every day in your own head, you don’t need that shit from other people. You’re even more shocked that it’s coming from Sylus, of all people. The Sylus who has cared for you so patiently, through all the time you’ve been together since that first auction. Who kills with his bare hands, but touches you with those same hands as if you’re made of glass. Until tonight.
You are tempted to run as the betrayal, confusion, and fear of the inevitable end course through you. To just stuff the gifts waiting for you on the sitting room’s coffee table into one of the big duffels you brought, move to another room, and wing the rest of the operation without Sylus. You can pose as a fucking waiter once you figure out Snowy Owl’s identity. You don’t need him for this mission. And you don’t need him in your fucking life, if this is his true self.
As you’re almost to the door leading to the hallway, reaching for the handle, you suddenly remember your promise to yourself, just a few nights ago—the night Sylus came to your place and you learned why he had gone silent for a whole week.
Your resolution that you wouldn’t give in to your fear at his expense anymore, that you would show him you care for him, just as he has done so for you through all of your time together. Even when he witnessed your worst moments, he did not walk away from you. He stayed, even as you pushed him away.
You think about how he was afraid for you to see him stripped of his power, as if you’d ever think him weak, and think less of him for something outside of his control. If I still had my evol, you’d be on the bed. How unnerving must it be for him to be in this shark’s tank without his ability to protect himself beyond his own body? It suddenly occurs to you that if he gets injured while his power is suppressed, he won’t heal like he normally does. The idea that he could get seriously hurt while here, helping you on a mission that has nothing to do with him, hurts a hundred times worse than the words he just snapped at you.
Weren’t you just furious with that fuck from the cocktail lounge for talking about Sylus like he was an object, instead of a person? Sylus is a human being. He’s not a god. He’s not perfect. He’s just a complicated man, a complicated man who hurt you with his harsh words tonight, but who has steadfastly shown how much he cares for you in the best way he knows how. Who could be expected to act normally, to be their best self, if one were to find oneself fundamentally changed, stripped of a lifetime of skill and ability, experiencing strange new urges, and to top it all off, thrown into a dangerous situation?
You turn and walk back through the sitting room, to the bedroom where he’s sitting, head still in his hands. You stand in front of him.
“Sylus.”
He doesn’t respond. You reach out, gently grip his chin, and lift his face.
He lets you, docile. His cat ears are drooping.
“Tell me,” you order.
He refuses to look at you. His tail swishes petulantly behind him.
“Tell. Me.” You tighten your hold on his jaw.
His eyes flick to yours, but he keeps his face turned away. “Caracal’s hate water.”
You gaze into his beautiful eyes, fire-lit gems. “And a caracal is the type of cat that you’ve partly mutated into?”
He nods, just a little movement of his head.
“And I brought you onto a boat, surrounded by water.”
He finally turns his head to face you, gazing at you but not responding.
“What else?” You relax your hold on his jaw, moving your palm to cup his cheek and bring up your other hand into his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands.
“Each person who shook your hand, who handed you their business card, who leaned too close to you… their stench is all over you.”
You run your fingers through his hair until you reach one of his cat ears and gently begin to rub it. He closes his eyes and he leans into your touch.
“What else?”
“If this plan goes sideways, I won’t be able to protect you.”
With each admission, his shoulders relax. His face softens. But there’s still something bothering him. You search his beautiful face. His tail flicks, flicks, flicks.
“What else, Sy?” You lean down, rest your cheek against his soft hair. His ears are velvet against your skin.
He reaches out and clasps the backs of your thighs to pull you closer to him and rests his forehead against your chest. “Even if it’s just for the mission, are you really okay with letting someone else have me?”
It takes you a moment, but when you realize what he’s saying, you’re floored.
Sylus has spent the whole evening watching you laugh off multiple peoples’ offers to take over ownership of your catboy butler. He watched you tell that little bitch at the bar, more than once, to buy Sylus to find out how obedient he is, how he’ll react to being parted from his beloved owner. Each time, you responded in character, like the idea didn’t bother you at all. Because that’s what the mission required.
You realize that this entire ordeal has made him insecure. He wants you to be jealous. He wants you to be possessive of him. The thought never once crossed your mind that he would be bothered by the cover you planned for this mission. He is always so self-assured, only hinting at flashes of jealousy in playful, dismissive terms. And yet he doesn’t want you to be okay with the idea of him being possessed by another, no matter how briefly, no matter how falsely.
You continue to pet him as you let everything he just admitted sink in. The water, other peoples’ scents on your body, his lack of power at the moment, your lack of jealousy at the mere idea that another would have him.
After all the times Sylus has comforted you, cared for you, solved problems for you, it’s now your turn to do the same for him.
You drop your hands and he looks back up at you with such raw longing that you almost can’t step away. But you must.
“Would you like to abort the mission?”
He looks at you in confusion. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is your job.”
You smile down at him helplessly. “Don’t you realize by now that you’re more important to me than my job?”
He sucks in a breath.
“How else could I be with the most wanted man on the planet?”
“The only reason I have been able to repress my instincts through this whole shitshow is reminding myself how important this mission is to you,” he breathes, closing his eyes.
“Your instincts?”
“You have no idea,” he says through clenched teeth. His tail is violently flicking again. You can’t bear to see him so distressed.
“Yes or no. Forget what you think I want. If it’s too much, we leave right now.”
Eyes still closed, ears still flattened to his head, he shakes his head no.
“Okay.” You turn, but he reaches out and grabs your wrist to stop you leaving. You put your hand over his. “Since I can’t remove the ship from the water, I’m just closing the window and the curtains so you don’t have to see it.”
He reluctantly releases your wrist. You do as you promised, and when you’re done you return to stand between his legs.
“What do you need to do about how I smell?”
You don’t have to repeat yourself. He grasps your wrist again, pulling your closer. He grabs the hem of your outfit and pulls, tugging it over your head, lifting your legs one by one to tear off your shoes, tossing everything into the farthest corner of the room, until you’re standing in front of him in your underwear. He then pulls you down onto the bed with him, rolling you under him. He presses his face into your neck and rubs, rubs, his tail wagging behind him, his ears brushing against your skin again, their softness making you want to grab them and pull, pull, the cuteness aggression difficult to contain. You satisfy yourself by running your hands through his hair, gripping slightly, tugging, releasing.
As he rubs his cheeks all over you, he pauses to lick your skin, runs his hands along your shoulders, your arms, your waist.
After a long time, his manic movements slow and he inhales deeply. “You have no idea how hard it was to resist the urge to piss on your shoes while you were talking to that bastard in the cocktail lounge.”
You freeze. “Piss… on my shoes?”
“Didn’t you know? Cats urinate to mark their territory,” he licks your skin again, purrs. “And you’re my territory, sweetheart.”
You don’t even know how to feel about his admission. “Well… I might be willing to die for you, but I draw the line at letting you pee on me. So thank you, for not giving in to your caracal urges.”
He pauses, lifts his head. “Don’t fucking say you’ll die, ever again,” he growls. “I forbid it.”
You laugh, a little breathlessly. You decide it’s not a good time to point out that you will, in fact, someday die. Probably sooner than the average human, with your job. So you just say “Okay.”
He looks mollified and his tail begins to swish playfully again. “So that’s a no on watersports, in the future?”
You scowl at him. “Just try to piss on me and see what happens.”
“That sounds like a challenge. And you know that’s like catnip to this big cat. Are you sure you aren’t actually interested in golden showers?”
All you can do is laugh, and pull him down to you, and kiss him so he’ll shut the fuck up about peeing on you.
After a few minutes of mauling him, you groan and pull away.
“If we don’t want this entire thing to be a waste, we need to check the contacts we made today and finish the mission before the auction is over.”
He rests his head against your shoulder. “I know, but I don’t want to get off you. No one can hurt you as long as you’re under me,” he grumbles.
You stare at the ceiling and run your hands through his hair again, fondling his cat ears. “I survived before I met you, because I’m a fucking badass. I’m strong enough for the both of us, especially for a covert mission like this. We go through the business cards and gifts, pinpoint Snowy Owl’s room, you distract them for ten minutes while I plant surveillance, we get the fuck out before the auction’s over.”
“You and I both know how quickly plans get fucked,” he murmurs into your skin.
“And you and I both know that I am skilled enough to unfuck it. And with you here, even without your evol, it’s going to be okay.”
His tail lifts, curls up your leg.
“Fine.” He rolls off of you reluctantly, and you immediately miss his weight. “But the reward for going along with your plan is now tripled.”
“You can have anything you want, when this is over,” you promise, sliding off the bed and gathering your clothes from the floor.
“Even a golden shower?”
You throw your shoe at him. He just catches it and laughs, relaxed again.
After you’re dressed, the two of you tear into the gifts people sent hoping to gain your favor and therefore an advantage in the auction for your catboy butler. Sylus, the spoiled creature that he is, tosses multiple priceless trinkets aside like they’re trash, complaining about being bored out of his mind. However, he bats at a feathered butt plug before realizing what he’s doing and then tosses it as well. The only other thing he expresses even a passing interest in is a little spray can with DOCTOR SLEEPYTIME printed on the side, with the caption reading, “A stalker’s new best friend! Never worry about your target waking up too early again! Ten fewer side effects than chloroform!” You squint at it. The legal disclaimers are a solid block of text underneath the caption. Apparently, one of the side effects that it still shares with chloroform is death. You don’t comment when you see Sylus slip it into the breast pocket of his tux, not even wanting to know what he has planned for it. Finally, you open a small box and realize that the weird little thing inside matches the description the Association provided you of Snowy Owl’s calling card.
“Got you,” you whisper triumphantly, pawing through the packaging to figure out which room it came from.
Sylus stands, prepared to play his part in this little ruse, but you stop him before he opens the door. “Wait a second,” you say, running to the bedroom, throwing open your luggage in the cabin’s closet, and pulling out what you had hastily prepared in anticipation of this mission.
You return to Sylus with the item hidden behind your back.
“You asked if I’m really okay with the idea of sending you to someone else.”
He just watches you in silence, ears twitching in curiosity, tail swishing behind him.
“Of course I’m not. You don’t know how badly I wanted to slit that fucker’s throat who talked about you like you’re not even a person. I feel sick at the idea of anyone else looking at you with anything less than respect and admiration, let alone as some kind of object to be owned. I can’t even stand the thought that I own you. You are wholly your own person, and I’m just happy that you want me by your side, and allow me to adore you.”
His tail swishes faster the longer you speak, but stills at your last sentence. “But you do own me. Body and soul.”
You swallow through the thickness in your throat. You’re not going to cry at his absurd, devoted answer.
“Then perhaps you will do me the honor of wearing this while we’re apart.” You show him the soft black leather collar. “It can only be placed on you, and taken off you, by a person whose pheromones match those of your owner. Your true owner.”
“So this was your trump card,” he murmurs, tail thwacking against the door so hard that the door vibrates.
You shrug. “You don’t have to wear it.”
He flattens his ears against his head. “Nonsense. Put it on me,” he commands imperiously.
You try to hide your smile, but probably fail. “In that case, I hope it will remind you that I am definitely not okay with sending you to someone else. But none of this is real, and when we’re off this boat, I’m never going to ask you to do something like this again.”
He reaches out and wraps his hand around your wrist. “How many times must we go over this? You can ask anything of me.”
“Just because I can, doesn’t mean I want to.”
Without waiting for his answer, you unclasp the collar and lift onto your tiptoes to thread it around his neck. He growls softly, in annoyance or exasperation, and sinks to his knees in front of you.
As always when Sylus kneels before you, you’re overcome with a sense of wrongness. But he seems to want to give this to you, to drive home the point that anything he has is yours for the taking. You can’t find it in yourself to refuse him by insisting that you could have reached his neck just fine without him having to kneel.
You lay the collar against his neck, thread the end through the buckle, and tighten it. His eyes are half-lidded, the glow of his irises spilling from between his eyelashes. He seems to be enjoying this so much that you tighten it just a little bit beyond what is necessary, just to see his reaction. He lets out a pathetic little gasp, and you loosen it, worried you’ve hurt him. But his chest expands and his ears droop, almost as if he’s disappointed. So you tighten it again. “Yes,” he breathes.
You stand there, with this gorgeous, half-feral man at your feet, fingering the pendant of the collar. You couldn’t afford the platinum that you think Sylus deserves, so silver had to do. But you did splurge a little to have your initials engraved on the inner side of the pendant, so that it’s pressed against his skin where no one else can see it. Your little secret against his pulse.
“We need to get moving, Sy,” you whisper, regretfully.
He rises gracefully to his feet.
“If you want it taken off, just ask.”
He gives you a disdainful look, his only response a tsking sound on his tongue. He leans down, kisses you, once, hard, and then straightens. He turns, throws open the door, and disappears down the hallway.
The rest of the mission goes off without a hitch. When you arrive at Snowy Owl’s door, you pick the lock easily, slip into the empty room, leave a variety of tracking devices in their possessions, and slip out again unseen.
You return to your room, prepared to wait for Sylus, trying to suppress the worry that he’ll have to put up with yet another handsy asshole all because he doesn't want to jeopardize your mission.
However, when you open the door, you find your big, beautiful cat already lounging on one of the sitting room’s ornate love seats, examining his nails and humming leisurely.
At his feet is the asshole from the cocktail lounge, bound, gagged, and clearly roughed up, his bloody nose dripping into the fabric of his mouth gag.
“The fuck, Sylus?” you ask.
Sylus rolls his head to look at you, lovely eyes glowing in the light of the tiffany lamps on the tables on either side of the love seat.
“I brought a gift for my owner,” he says, ears twitching between you and the asshole who started to struggle at your entrance, making little pleading whimpering noises. “I could tell how much you hated this waste of oxygen the whole time you had to endure his attention at the bar.”
“A… gift?” you repeat.
“You have no idea the self control it took to suppress the instinct to bring him to you as a corpse, as nature intended, when I was done playing with him. But I assumed that would make my owner mad,” he says languidly, but his tail is flicking in agitation.
“Okay,” you draw out the word, trying to process this… gift. “And Snowy Owl?”
“Passed out in a janitor’s closet in the ship’s casino,” he shrugs. “Doctor Sleepytime is true to its claims. A great improvement over chloroform,” he drawls. “I’ll have to leave a good review on their website.”
Relief floods through you. You’re done. The mission is almost complete. All that’s left is to get the fuck off this floating cesspool.
“Thank you,” you murmur. But you’re still left with the problem of what to do with Sylus’s ‘gift.’ “But Sy, what the fuck am I supposed to with… this.” You can’t help but sneer a little at the asshole still struggling on the ground.
“Whatever you want, my heart,” Sylus responds. “He’s wanted in Linkon City by at least three different agencies. But we could just dump him over the railing and be done with it. In fact, I’d prefer that,” he says, perking up.
You march over to him and slip a finger under his collar.
“No! Bad kitty,” you scold, pulling a little on the leather, intending to simply tease him for his outrageous suggestion.
Sylus just gasps, eyes going half lidded again. You stop in surprise at the clear pleasure your rough treatment is causing him, but he wraps his hand around your wrist and moves your hand again, tightening the collar against his neck once more.
“If I’m a bad kitty, you better keep a tight hold on me to make sure I don’t drag home any other unwelcome surprises,” he says, voice low and rough.
“Oh?” You marvel at how lovely he looks, cheeks flushed, mouth slightly open, breathing hard. “Maybe my bad kitty needs to be punished, so he stops suggesting I murder wanted criminals instead of bringing them to justice like a professional.”
The man on the floor who is forced to witness this flirtation struggles harder, his whimpers ranging from disgusted to terrified. You ignore him.
“Oh nooo,” Sylus says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then he narrows his eyes. “You better make good on your promise. Or are you just full of empty threats?”
You lean down and press the heel of your hand onto his hard cock straining against his zipper, hard. He moans, eyelashes fluttering.
“Get us to the getaway boat without causing a scene and you’ll find out what I’m full of. Or what I’m about to be full of, if you’re a good kitty for me,” you breathe into his ear.
The man on the floor gags a little.
Sylus stands, lifting you in one arm, grabbing a full duffel bag you hadn’t noticed with the other.
“What’s that?”
“Your bad kitty helped himself to a cat treat,” he purrs.
“What kind of souvenir?”
“The loud, prone-to-exploding-if-you-shake-it-too-hard-kind.” He grins at you, canines flashing.
You can’t help yourself. You burst out laughing.
It may have started with trouncing your crimelord boyfriend at kitty cards, but it ended with you learning how to better care for your catboy boyfriend. It also ended with the arrest of both Snowy Owl and the poor bastard who had to listen to you 'punish' said boyfriend from inside the duffel bag that he was stuffed in after Sylus cut the engine of the getaway boat halfway to your destination, too impatient to wait till you both got home to claim part of his reward for being such a good, good kitty.
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heat ⎯ jay park
pairing: jay park x fem!reader
genre: SMUT! MDNI! bodyguard!jay x rich girl!reader
warnings/tags: smut, bratty reader, mean dom jay, oral (m!rec), brat tamer jay, fingering, rough sex, orgasm denial, spanking, degradation, safeword (not used!), name calling (slut, dumb, whore etc.), pull out method, unprotected sex, masterbation, lots of mean dirty talk!, hair pulling, more tba... might've missed some.
💭: um… hey.. this was supposed to come out a week ago but i kept rewriting the smut part and tbh idk if im completely happy with it. but! here!!!! jay!!! ilysm im so sorry heres 4.7k words to make up for it!!! <3
you had yet to get used to your new routine, which consisted of waking up and getting followed almost every second of the day by your incredibly annoying (-ly sexy) bodyguard. you’ll never forget the morning you opened your bedroom door only to be greeted by a stone cold man who introduced himself as your babysitter.
it was a long week of constant fights with your parents before you realized nothing was going to change and this was how things were going to be from now on. your parents claimed you were too free and careless, and as the face of their multi-millionaire company, they just couldn’t have that.
your bodyguard, park jonseong– though you’ve learnt he goes by jay on the job (you were to address him as mr. park), intrigued you to no end. You were warned by your parents not to act stupid and spoiled around him, but you really couldn’t help it. mr. park is just so easy to piss off.
currently, you stood in front of the fashion center, bodyguard at your side as you waited for two of your friends to arrive. you had a long day of pushing your credit card to it’s limit and you couldn’t help but to be frustrated with the man who stood barely a foot away. you hadn’t gotten the chance to have actual free time to yourself since obtaining the bodyguard, mostly just attending company meetings and dinners with him there. nobody other than your family and employees had actually met the man face to face.
you texted your friends beforehand, sending your apologies for jay’s presence on your girls day out, but they were honestly focused on seeing the hot bodyguard that you mentioned in person.
there is no denying just how attractive jay is. you do wonder how he came about in the job field, maybe the pay was just that good or it was a family business. but it didn’t matter, he had a face sculpted by the gods and if you didn’t hold a small petty hatred for the man, you would’ve recommended him to every single one of the modeling labels you had connections with.
“do you seriously have to be here?” you ask him, tapping away at your phone.
jay straightens his posture, face flattening at your question, “it is my duty to pro-”
you cut him off with a scoff, shoving your phone in the small purse at your side. he repeated that line anytime you complained to his face and you were quite fed up with it. “you have to watch over me and be by my side during every second of the day even when i need to piss– yes i know.” you mock his words. “but this is a mall! i’ll be with my friends, so can’t you just go and busy yourself for a few hours?”
“these are orders from your father, y/n.” he replies dryly, “i am not to leave your side. you do realize this is because of how you act when you’re away from your parents, right? if anything, this is your fault.”
you roll your eyes. jay was correct and you knew that, this was in fact your fault. if you hadn’t gotten caught and almost cost your parents a massive scandal, you wouldn’t have jay next to you at this moment.
“this is also for your safety.”
“i don’t need you to protect me.”
jay clicks his tongue at your response, “no, but you do need to be babysat. don’t you?”
you’re ready to protest until you catch your friends walking up in the corner of your eyes. you shoot a glare at your bodyguard before slapping on a wide smile and squealing as you jog up to your friends.
-
it’s not that jay isn’t used to walking or standing for long periods at a time, it was the fact that you took every chance to throw a shady comment his way or purposely stepping into every single store you saw even if you and your friends weren’t even interested. why did you feel the need to window shop in a store that only sold bathtubs and showers? you literally had a freshly renovated bathroom– everyone knew this. but you couldn’t help the feeling of victory when jay let out a sigh that went unnoticed by everyone except you.
jay checked the time on his watch for the nth time as you stood in front of a washer and dryer set in yet another furniture shop, talking about the great deal they were having. it didn’t matter, you were born with millions stuffed into your pocket and someone who did your laundry for you. he almost let out a victorious shout when you finally concluded you were done shopping for the day.
“wait! look at that dress.” you suddenly stop, everyone turns their gaze towards the window of the shop. “we have to go in there.”
no one could say anything before you were skipping off into the store. honestly, your friends couldn’t care less either because they dispersed as soon as the three of you entered the department store. jay watched as you asked the staff to try on the dress you had pointed out, a genuine smile painted your face while a frustrated frown made it’s way to his. yet he continued to follow you to the back of the store, taking the smaller shopping bags from your hands that you didn’t make him carry.
jay sat outside the dressing room for one minute, that one minute turned into three which soon turned into five. he lightly knocked on the door before calling out your name.
“is everything okay?”
he could hear shuffling inside the dressing room before the door clicked and opened. you stuck your head out and quickly looked around the store. “have you seen the girls?” jay also glances around the store, shaking his head no.
“can you find them for me?” you ask him softly, he only stares at you with the answer painted on his face. you let out a frustrated sigh. “if you won’t then you’re going to have to lace up this dress for me.”
you had hoped that would be enough to send him looking for your friends, yet he stayed planted right in front of the dressing room door. you stare at him for a moment before opening the door wider and turning around, exposing your back to him in the undone dress.
jay didn't waste a second, immediately grabbing the silk strings of the dress and lacing them through the fabric. you were about to express how shocked you were with his swift movements and skill before he backed away from you.
you did a spin in the mirror, studying the dress that hugged your form perfectly. a smile breaks out across your face when you lift your gaze to meet your bodyguard, who was still staring at your backside.
“do you have a girlfriend or something, mr. park?”
jay clears his throat before stepping further back, “i do not.”
his response doesn’t shock you as much. as attractive as he was, he was stuck at your side almost all day throughout the week. his schedule and job would suck for his hypothetical partner. “you wanna tell me where you learned to tie up a dress like this within thirty seconds?”
you continue to stare at him in the mirror, waiting for his response.
“it’s not that hard.”
“no way,” you let out a laugh. “god, you totally got around before this job– am i right?”
jay doesn’t respond, he only averts his gaze from yours.
“park jongseong, your silence is telling me you were a total whore before you became my babysitter.”
he lets out a scoff at your vulgar language, “that really wasn’t appropriate.”
“you know how to lace up a stupid satin corset. not to mention the perfect bow you tied the ends in– most men don’t even know how to tie a ribbon!” you continue. “less than thirty seconds too… you beat the clock. is this what you did for the girls you fucked?”
“watch your language here.”
you roll your eyes, “we are the same age. i don’t even know why i have to call you mr. park, you literally work for me.”
“i work for your father,” he responds, “and i’m older than you, show some respect.”
you cross your arms, mentally cursing him in your mind. his last comment rubbed you the wrong way and you were ready to start a useless one-sided argument with him. “respect? to you?”
“yes, to me. because i’m the one who has to hold your hand every second of the day because you act like a brat who’s had no parental guidance in her life every time you step into a public setting.”
“my father pays you to be here– you work for us. so if anything–”
“you don’t have any say in your daddys company yet, so again, you respect me.” he cuts you off with a sharp tone. “quit acting like a damn brat and– what the fuck are you doing?”
the dress you had tried on was currently unlaced and on its way off your body. a smirk made its way on your face when you caught jay’s irritated expression that was definitely laced with something more. his lash out gave you excitement and you knew you were pushing him to the edge.
jay shakes his head, backing away and slamming the dressing room door and holding it shut with his hands. this day was driving him insane and pushing him to a point that he’s never gotten to while on other jobs. you were a spoiled fucking brat and he was beyond fed up with your constant snarky remarks and attitude.
you fought with him every chance you could, half the comments you made had no points to them and he knew you were doing it to piss him off. jay didn’t know if your goal was to get him to quit or make his life a living hell with your insufferable personality, but he was sure of one thing– you did it for his reactions.
he did his best on holding back and not giving you what you wanted, but it has gotten to the point where he almost feels the need to step up and put you in your place. unfortunately, this could cost him his job so he knew he needed to hold back. your parents were aware of your shitty attitude so jay knew you wouldn’t make them bat their eyelids twice with your complaints about him.
you push against the door a few times muttering that you were done changing. jay lets go of the door, letting you out. you stood in front of him with the dress in your hands and a heated expression. he simply grabs all the shopping bags and heads towards the checkout counter.
after making your final purchase of the day, you parted ways with your friends after a few dramatic farewells and sat in the passenger seat of the car as you waited on Jay to finish up a phone call– most likely updating your father on your whereabouts.
jay slides into the driver's seat,”your parents won't be home for another few days due to an emergency meeting with a partnership.”
you reply with an uncaring nod, leaning back in your seat and gazing out of the window. jay backs out of the spot and eventually you both head towards your home.
-
jays scoff cuts through the soft music playing in the car forcing you to look up from your phone, realizing the reason for his scoff. cars were at a full stop on the freeway and you couldn’t even see where it ended.
you lean back further in your seat, slipping your shoes off and resting your feet on the dashboard, “can’t you take a different route?”
“this is the fastest route.”
“that’s not what i asked; i asked if there’s a different route you could take.” you respond with know it all tone.
“if there was another route then i’d be taking it, smartass.” jay glances at your bare legs. he tries his hardest to not let his gaze linger on your skirt that was pushed at your upper thighs due to the position. “put your feet down.”
“why?” you know why. he knows you know why.
“it’s dangerous.”
“but we aren’t moving..? plus, i’m comfortable.”
you were so close. so incredibly close.
“it doesn’t matter if you’re comfortable, put your feet down– it’s not safe and i will not drive you anywhere else unless you move them right now.”
so close.
you roll your eyes and slip your feet back into your shoes. jay lets out a tired sigh. the traffic was barely moving and you were being difficult once more, except this time you were both trapped on the road. you really picked the perfect opportunities to piss him off.
jay lets out yet another sigh when he notices you moving around.
“what?” he asks as you slide the top part of the seat belt behind your head and off of your chest. “put that back on, please.”
“but why?”
“do i really need to explain to you why wearing your seat belt correctly in a moving vehicle is necessary or are you going to be a big girl and put it back on?”
“we aren’t moving, jay.” you whine out. “i’ll be fine! i will put it back when we actually start moving above five miles per hour.”
jay runs his hand through his hair as the other one grips the steering wheel. “wear it correctly.”
“make me.”
he tried. he really did. jay mentally apologizes to your father before turning to you with an angry expression. “wear the fucking seat belt correctly or i will make you– and i promise you will not like it.”
you bite back the growing smirk and continue to stare at him. you did it.
jay gives himself three seconds before turning his body towards you, he reaches over and grabs the top part and pulls it over your body and tugging it tightly. you muffle your laugh, which was your last mistake. he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.
“keep acting like a god damn brat.” he spits. “keep it up.”
you don’t respond to him as you were trying your hardest to calm your pounding heart and ignoring the ever growing need in your core.
“i’ve had it up to hear with your shitty attitude all week– you pushed it today and it will not go unnoticed.” he continues, pulling your face closer to his spot in the driver's seat. “keep up this behavior and i’ll show you exactly what happens to spoiled fucking brats like you. do you understand me?”
you really fucking did it. you pushed stone cold jay park to his limits and it made your cunt ache deliciously. jay catches the way your thighs rub together not so subtly, and it pisses him off.
“you wanted this reaction, right?” he utters in a low voice. “you did all of this just to get a fucking reaction out of me, huh? answer me, brat.”
you try your hardest to nod with the tight grip he holds on your jaw.
“you got it, does that make you happy?”
you don’t hesitate before nodding again.
“yeah? make that pathetic cunt of yours drip?”
you don’t get a chance to respond when the car behind yours starts to honk. jay groans and lets go of you, returning his attention back to the road. you remain still, somewhat in shock with his choice of words.
“fuck it.” he grunts out before suddenly turning the wheel sharply and slamming on the accelerator. jay quickly pulls into an exit lane next to you and speeds off.
“i thought there wasn’t another route.” you mutter, holding the side of the door tightly.
“keep that fucking mouth shut.”
oh, you were in for it.
-
before you could even process it, you were getting yanked inside the house by your wrist, loads of shopping bags forgotten in the car.
your heels clack against the marble floors as jay pulls you through the house, though he was tempted to fuck you against the front door. he stops you once you both reach the living room.
“name a color.”
“what?” you reply, visibly confused. why was he suddenly talking about colors?
jay scoffs, “just give me a color.”
you think for a moment before responding with purple.
“that’s your safeword tonight– do not forget it.”
oh. oh. you fucked up. jay lets out a pleased hum before spinning you around and bending you over the back of your family couch. your eyes widen and you grab onto the cushions, turning your head to look at him as he stands behind you.
“what are yo-” you were cut up by your own yelp when jay lifts your skirt and lands a harsh slap to your ass.
“didn’t i say to keep that mouth shut?” he spits. “you speak when i tell you to.”
“i’m s-” another smack.
“you can’t be this stupid.” jay rubs his hand against your bare ass, his fingers sliding under the thin lace of your panties teasingly. he lets out a mocking chuckle when his fingers graze over the wetness oozing out of your cunt. “getting a rise out of me really does get you wet. tell me what your goal was.”
when you don’t respond, jay simply lays another smack on your skin, causing you to jolt on top of the couch.
“you really are a spoiled brat. i said, tell me what you wanted the most out of today.”
“just… just wanted you.” you mumble, which was the wrong answer because jay smacks your ass again. the skin started to burn as well as your knees from being bent over the uncomfortable couch for this long.
“what was that?” his tone is more demanding than taunting now. you take a deep breath, any shame or embarrassment you had disappeared with each smack to your ass.
“w-wanted to piss you off,” you shakily let out. “wanted you to fuck me, jay.”
jay smirks from behind you, “wanted me to fuck you?”
you nod your head and let out a yes that came out more like a whimper than anything.
“do you think you deserve to get fucked? or even cum?” he continues to ask. “you were so bad today, you know?”
“i-i know. i’m sorry.” you really did sound so pathetic. never in your life did you think you would be begging a man to fuck you when he hasnt even touched you yet.
jay lifts you up to a standing position, giving you a soft smile before sending you to your knees. you almost fall against his legs but you quickly grip onto the fabric of his slacks. “show me how sorry you are, then i’ll think about letting you cum.”
you waste no time fumbling with the belt on his slacks, hands shaking as they pop open the button and yank his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. you don’t attempt to start slow, not thinking twice before getting straight to work, with your hand wrapped around the base and your tongue dragging along his tip.
jay inhales sharply, taking a hold on your hair as you begin stuffing him in your mouth. “god– fucking eager, aren’t you?” he spits out as you bob your head on his cock, his hand assisting your head.
“shit, baby.” jay can’t hold back from thrusting his hips, the sigh beneath him only makes him ache. the tip of his dick knocking against your throat with each small thrust. “you– fuck… you suck cock like a slut. you want it that bad, huh?”
he knows he won't be able to last any longer like this, not with the way your pretty eyes glance up at him while your mouth grips onto his cock, or the way drool spills out of your mouth because he’s almost too big for your mouth.
a particularly harsh thrust into your mouth has you almost stumbling over, both your hands grab onto jays thighs to stabilize yourself. jay uses this to thrust a few more times before pulling out, leaving you breathless and gasping. he tilts your head up at him, taking his thumb and wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth and shoving it in your mouth.
he laughs at the way your lips immediately close around his thumb, “such a good girl– so well behaved now. what happened to the bratty little girl from earlier?” his thumb explores your mouth, pushing down on your tongue as he continues to jeer. “all it took was a cock in your mouth to put you in your place? to get that annoying mouth of yours to shut up and behave?”
you stare up at him with eager eyes, you only nod at his taunts. jay finds your actions endearing, and if it weren’t for the situation, he would be doing everything and anything to make you cum immediately.
“get up.”
with shaky legs you follow his instructions, standing up straight. one look from jay has you turning around and bending over the couch again, waiting for his next move. your underwear sticks to you uncomfortably under your skirt, and you only yearn for jay to touch you again.
“seems like you can follow instructions after all– even without me saying anything.” jay lifts your skirt and rubs your ass, which was still red from him spanking you. he wraps his finger around the band of your panties before pulling them down and letting them fall to your ankles.
he almost groans at the sight, almost hoping you’d be an insufferable brat in the future if it meant he could have you bent over the couch in the middle of your living room like this everyday. jay grips your hips, holding you still as he teases your cunt with the tip of his cock, running it up and down your soaked lips.
“jay– please.” your bodyguard only shushes you as he pushes inside of you, stretching you out slowly. he continues thrusting in and out at a painfully slow pace, making sure you can feel him with every stroke.
jay makes sure you know this isn’t for you. everytime you whine and plead him to go faster or slower, he reminds you who's in charge.
you’re choking back moans, practically squealing into the couch cushions as jay slams into you from behind, “you don’t get to make demands here… fuck! you take what i give you.”
any chance you can feel yourself about to cum, jays ripping his cock away from you– degrading you and sending you taunts as you beg for more. he tightens his hand in your hair, tugging with each harsh thrust he delivers. it’s almost too much for you, your body already weak from his brutal pace and grip and now with each orgasm being taken away.
“p-please.. wanna cum.” you mewl out pathetically, in which jay responds with a laugh and a tug on your hair that has you yelping.
“you wanna cum?” he grunts out. you nod your head followed by a bunch of yes’s and pleases. jay shoves you head into the cushion below you and lifts your leg onto the back on the couch, his cock now hitting deeper inside of you. “god… so pathetic. keep beggin’ because you aren’t cuming on this cock.”
his thrusts grow angrier and needier as he pushes himself towards the edge, making sure he takes any chance of coming from you. jay's chest is almost flat against yours as he pounds into you.
jay pulls out once again but this time quickly stroking himself with his hand before letting go on your lower back with a loud groan, making sure you know in more than one way that he got to cum and you didn’t. his release is hot against your skin, a reminder that your actions had consequences. jay continues to milk himself, his cum dripping on your bunched up skirt and your bare ass.
you tremble against the couch, whimpering. “please.. please let me cum. ill- ill be so good, please jay.”
“fuuck– you wanna cum that bad?” he responds, his orgasm still evident in his voice.
“yes… yes, please.”
“then fuck yourself.”
you turn around, gripping the couch from behind. “what?”
jay has already pulled his slacks up, zipping and buttoning them shut before speaking again, “i said fuck yourself if you want to cum. right here– right now. do it then maybe i’ll keep that in mind next time to piss me off.”
you gulp at his words, your mind already reeling that this could happen again. “but.. want you to do it.”
“you want me to do it?” he coos, chuckling when you nod your head shamelessly. “your little pouty lips won't get you anywhere with me, doll. i know you can do it yourself– and i know damn well you think of me when you fuck yourself late at night like a whore in heat.”
he puts his hands on both sides of you as you lean against the backside of the couch, you could feel his come drip off your ass and down your legs. shakily, you reach a hand between your thighs and jay follows with his eyes. “see how easy it is to listen?”
you pinch and rub at your clit, letting out small gasps and whimpers as you desperately try to get yourself to cum. jay lifts your skirt and bunches it at your hips, gripping tightly as he watches you grind against your own hand.
“i thought you wanted to cum? i know you can do better than that.” you felt humiliated in this position, more embarrassed than when you were begging for him earlier. you dip your fingers inside your cunt, curling and attempting to press against your sweet spot.
your body was hot with need, and with jay’s eyes watching your every move as you continued your pathetic demonstrations. he seems fed up with your attempts to make yourself cum because he's quickly replacing your hand with his own and gripping your face with his other.
“too dumb to do it yourself? is that it?” he spits out as he curls his fingers inside of you, ripping a moan from your throat. “are you only good for acting like a spoiled fucking brat? you really can’t do shit by yourself?”
his grip on your face tightens as he forces you to look at him as he thrust his fingers in and out of you with his palm flat against your clit. your body arches into his touch, hips twitching with every movement of his fingers.
“j-jay… fuck–” you groan loudly. it wasn’t his cock, but god was he great with his hands. his long fingers thrusting up against the spot you need it to hit the most.
“you look so pathetic like this, you know? needing to be fucked straight in order for you to act right– like a slut.” he continues, his voice as rough as his hands. “is that what you are? a slut? did daddy need to just hire someone to fuck you like this for you to behave like a good girl?”
you must be nodding your head pathetically because jay only lets out a mocking laugh.
“as long as you get to cum right?”
“yes– yes, god, please i’m so close!” you beg, slightly muffled from the grip jay holds on your cheeks.
it only takes a few more thrusts and curls from jays fingers to have your body shaking and your cunt clenching tightly before letting go completely. long, strained whines leave your mouth as you ride out your orgasm. you felt almost disappointed, you were almost shocked you came at all considering how many times you had the chance ripped away from you, but you knew better than to voice that outloud.
jay slowly pulls his fingers from your pulsing hole, bringing his fingers up to show you. his grip loosens on your face and he brushes your hair back softly before pushing your cum coated fingers into your mouth.
“you have a dinner to attend in place of your parents in an hour,” he starts, “if you act right then maybe we can talk about your reward, okay?”
you nod at him, mouth closed around his fingers as you tasted yourself on him.
“good girl.”
#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfiction#jay x reader#jongseong x reader#jay smut#enha smut#enhypen scenarios#jongseong smut#jay imagines#jongseong imagines#kpop smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#i wrote this while ovulating im sorry if it fucking SUCKS LOL
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never yours to have
brothers bsf!jude bellingham x fem!reader
summary: he was never yours but it didn't stop you from wishing he was
a/n: i am RUSTY so please show this some love thanks 😌 i'm also not really an angsty writer so this is not my normal style
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𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
10 years you'd known jude. he was 11 and you were 10. he was best friends with your brother. you'd been close for as long as you could remember. all his moves to different countries you'd been there. all his hard times you'd been there and him vice versa. there was never any sort of label between you as you got older. your brother had always told jude you were out of bounds and told you jude was out of bounds and that was that.
you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find him attractive, of course you did. but you were certain of two things: he was your brothers best friend and he had one hell of a reputation for being a fuckboy. you couldn't really blame him for that second part, but you always told yourself it was something to be weary of. you'd never be reduced to a number, and your brother would no doubt kill you and jude if something happened anyway.
little did you know your feelings were being reciprocated ten times stronger. everytime he was near you his heart skipped a beat. it was wrong. maybe that's why he wanted you so badly, because he knew he could never have you. you were his best friends sister, strictly off limits. but he couldn't help it. your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your voice, everything about you was perfection. to jude, you were the most beautiful person inside and out. and oh how he wished you could be his person.
your brother had decided that it was necessary to have a huge house party for his birthday, and you'd been forced to go. you weren't exactly happy to be, much preferring a quiet evening but the prospect of seeing jude after him being away for so long made you alot more excited than you wanted to admit. you couldn't help but keep glancing over to the door, waiting for jude to arrive. but when he finally did you wished he hadn't. he brought a girl? not just any girl either, quite frankly she was the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen and there she was hanging off his arm. she was perfect and she had jude. bitch.
it was immature, it was petty and it was stupid. nothing had ever happened between you and jude, you had always been strictly friends so you weren't really sure why you felt the way you did. why did this have to be the time you realised your feelings? but you were still angry, still hurt. it was irrational and you knew it, so your solution was to get drunk and avoid jude like the plague. but you couldn't run forever
"where have you been hiding?" he appeared behind you.
"shit jude. why would you sneak up on me like that?" your drink had gone all down your top. perfect.
"m sorry. come here" he grabbed a towel and attempted to dry you, something which any other time would be completely fine with you. but this time it felt wrong. you snatched it out his hand, admittedly alot more aggressively than you intended. "what's with you? can't take the drink?" he was drunk, and his arrogance was no longer attractive, it was infuriating to you. "shut up jude. i just don't think your girlfriend would appreciate watching you feeling me up" you spat and turned on your heel.
but he followed you. "what the fuck does that mean?"
"just leave me alone jude"
"no what's with you? you've been avoiding me since you've i got here and now you're making digs"
"no i'm not"
"are you jealous?"
"i'm sorry?" was he serious?
"are you jealous?"
"i heard you the first time jude. no i am not. why would you even think that?"
"don't know, but it would explain why you're acting so stupid"
you had nothing to say to that. ultimately he was right. you should be happy for him. why weren't you?
he paused, then talked slower and calmer than before.
"you know there's nothing going on between us right? we're just friends. she knows someone else here so we just decided to go together"
"then why was she all over you?" you mumbled, matching his low tone
"dunno. she'd had a few pre drinks so she was just tipsy"
you stared at him again.
"i like you y/n. not in a friend way. in a i can't think straight around you way. and your brother will probably kill me but i can't keep this in anymore. i don't want you to think i'm with anyone else because you're the only one i want"
"jude don't fuck me about" you were barely whispering, too afraid for this to all be some sort of joke.
"i wouldn't dream of it. i mean every word y/n. i think i'm inlove with you"
you'd unconsciously stepped alot closer to him, gazing up with glassy eyes. your brain screamed that he was drunk, that he was a player, that he was your brothers best friend but your heart said otherwise. you liked him too and you were gonna give it your best shot.
it was like he'd read your mind. one hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his while another fell to your waist. he was angelic. so gentle, so careful. he kissed you like you were fine china. a prized jewel that needed all the respect in the world. you melted into him. it was perfection, something you'd been dreaming of for years. the kiss meant absolutely everything to you. everything.
you could've kissed him forever if your brother hadn't come outside to find you both. "what're you both doing out here? it's cold come inside"
jude grinned at you in a way that had your heart bursting. "come on"
it wasn't long before he'd disappeared. and he'd been gone a while. you thought nothing of his absence until you noticed she was missing. you made your way upstairs looking for him when you heard someone else call out his name. another girl.
no, surely it wasn't.
the shout had come from the bathroom. you walked slowly, shaking hand turning the handle. you knew then and there what had happened. you knew you should've walked away. but you didn't. some twisted part of you wanted to check, and if it was what you thought it was, you wanted him to know you knew. you wanted him to know he'd hurt you. so you opened the door and you were met with a sight that made you feel physically sick. she hadn't seen you, clearly lost in her own please and her hair being held in jude's hand probably didn't help her ability to look in the mirror and see you. but he did. he met your eyes in the reflection. regret clouded his face instantly and he stopped. her head raised at his halted movements, clearly confused and you muttered a quick sorry before slamming the door.
you couldn't breathe. you needed to get out, get away from him and his lies. you ran back out to the garden that he'd confessed his feelings for you and kissed you in not even 20 minutes ago. you stood in the same spot and you let your tears fall.
why were you so upset? he was never yours to have
#it has been a min wow#writing this gave me a fat headache#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fanfic#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#football imagine#footballer imagine
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Calling him by his name and not by a term of endearment
another one in the drafts that needed to see the light of day
Characters: Todoroki Shoto and Bakugo Katsuki
Shoto
You truly didn't mean to do it
You honestly just straight up forgot one day
You would always greet each other outside of class before school started
Like clockwork, you would give each other a small hug and you would always say “hi baby” or something similar, but you would always call him baby…..except for today
“Morning Shoto,” you pull away from the hug, and he has a frown on his face that looks different from the one he usually has
“You okay?”
He’s quick to shake it off, “Yeah, come on, we’re going to be late for class.”
You guys were actually early, but you just brush it off as him wanting to be punctual
Shoto really wants to question you
But he doesn’t
Not outwardly at least
He’s thinking, “are they mad at me?”, “Did I do something to make them mad at me??”
He would do everything possible EXCEPT ask you what was wrong
The both of you walk inside the class and Shoto goes to your seat before you do and pulls out your chair for you
You’re surprised, it’s not like he’s never nice to you (though he doesn’t look it, he’s really nice) but you are perfectly capable of doing menial tasks for yourself
So you never expected him to do that, but you appreciated it nevertheless
“Oh, thanks Sho!”
His eyebrows crease
He hums in affirmation and gives a kiss to the top of your head before walking over to his seat
That’s when you know something is wrong
He wasn’t too keen on PDA
So for him to nonchalantly kiss you on the head in class….was kinda fishy
Shoto can’t concentrate all that well in class now
Poor dude is wracking through his brain as to why you just called him Sho
WHY SHO AND WHY NOT BABY???
And now he’s pouting for the entirety of the class
Every time you look over at him he’s like >:/
ngl it’s really cute
You don’t ask Shoto what’s wrong until lunchtime rolls around
Well
You try to
When the lunch bell rings Shoto is like a man on a mission
He beelines toward you
If you hadn’t known what his quirk you would have thought it was super speed
Iida who?
Some of your classmates look at him weird
This is just the image I get in my head lolol
Shoto: 🏃♂️🏃♂️
Classmates:🤨
But he gets to you in like .5 seconds and he holds his hand out to you
He doesn’t even say anything to you, so you assume he wants to hold your hand
You place your hand in his but he surprises you when he pulls you into a hug
Thankfully everyone had already filed out of the class or else you would have been a burning bundle of embarrassment
“Call me baby please.”
His mouth was right next to your ear and you could feel his lips move against it
Your knees would have surely given out had you not come to a conclusion
You hadn’t called him baby the entire day and he was now clearly perturbed about it
There was one thing you really loved about Shoto, it was pretty easy to fluster him
And you see a perfect opportunity open itself up
Grabbing his face between your hands you pull him away from your ear and smush his cheeks together
“Oh my poor baby, I'm so sorry my baaaaby.”
A blush was quickly creeping its way up his neck
Which only encourages you more
Maybe he shouldn’t have reminded you
“Ok that’s enough….”
“But I haven’t called you baby enough times.”
“I’m going to eat by myself.”
“Wait!”
Bakugo
You did call Bakugo terms of endearment like babe, sweetheart, and the one you use the most, honey
Bakugo claimed to dislike your nicknames, but he secretly really liked them
One day you and Bakugo get into a petty argument
I totally feel like you and he would fight over the smallest shit lmao
And you’re not hanging around his desk before class like you normally do
You’re at Ashido’s desk obviously ignoring him
Which irks him, but that’s fine, he can ignore you too
But he can’t help but eavesdrop on yalls conversation
because Ashido’s desk is very close and totally not because he wants to hear your voice because he already misses it
“Why aren't you at his desk by the way?”
“Hmm, Bakugo’s?”
Oh this catches his immediate attention
He doesn’t even bother hiding his blatant staring at you from across the room
Since the both of you started dating not once have you called him Bakugo
It’s always been your cute gushy nicknames or variations of his first name
Mina already knows what’s up and wants all the details now
She’s huddling closer to you, almost practically on top of your desk
But you never get to spill tea because the bell is ringing
But i assure you that Bakugou is giving you a hard side eye
Cuz he still needs to focus in class (he’s still a good student!!)
Lunchtime rolls around and he very discreetly walks next to you
“Hey”
You turn to look at him and just smile at him with your stupid cute face
He’s happy you’re not outright ignoring him
But he was at least expecting a, “c’mon Tsuki, i wanna get a good table!”
He brushes his pinkie against yours hoping you’d get the hint and hold his hand but nope
You pick up your pace and he sees you wrap your hands around Ashido’s arm, the both of you now animatedly talking
He would have found it cute if you weren’t hanging off of Ashido
That should be me by justin bieber starts playing
Bakugo is now internally raging inside at the lunch table
You would normally sit next to him but you're sitting across from him in between Sero and Kirishima
Man’s is literally stabbing into his food
everyone is now staring at his dramatic ass
buy you're the only one who ends up making a comment about it
"the food is already dead, i don't think you need to do that Bakugo."
he stops murdering his food
he's had enough
He stands up forms his seat, goes over to a very confused you
Very gently, takes a hold of your wrist and starts dragging you up to the school’s rooftop
You’re questioning him the entire time
When you finally get to the rooftop Bakugo lets go of your wrist and just kind of stares at you
He’s silent for a couple of minutes looking like he’s going through a mental battle
Until he finally says something
Something that you can barely make out because he’s turned his head away from you and is grumbling
You: https://youtu.be/Y_3vk411ALE
“Bakugo what?”
There you go calling him by his last name again
“I said I’m sorry, don’t make me repeat myself!”
“Sorry for what??”
You can’t be serious
“For our argument this morning, the reason you’re calling me by my last name.”
“Oh.”
Oh?
JUST OH??
“I thought you were still mad at me so i wanted to give you space, i forgot about our argument way before school started.”
……
ATTENTION: TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE❗❗❗
Bakugo just sighs
He’s too tired to even get frustrated and just wants your attention
So he pulls you into a hug and buries his face into your neck
“Don’t ever do that again.”
You can practically hear the pout in his voice
“I'm sorry honey, i just wanted to give you space.”
“I don’t care about space.”
#mha x you#mha x reader#mha scenarios#mha imagines#mha headcanons#bakugo imagine#bakugo x reader#bakugo katuski#shoto x y/n#shoto x reader#shoto imagine#shoto torodoki#bnha imagines#bnha x you#bnha x reader#bnha scenarios
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!!! geto hate fuck turning into something really damn passionate! reader repeatedly moaning apologies until geto had given us a bath of his warm cum <3
ONE MORE, ONCE MORE.
⟣ note. listen this turned out way toooo detailed than what i had expected it to be HLPP i got lost in the story irlly just wanted to make this a 100 word drabble oopsies
⟣ tags. mean dom / ex!geto suguru x female reader. smut. hate fucking, mention of slapping, creampie, dirty talk; degradation, name calling; ‘slut’, spriiinkle of overstimulation, slight size difference, uhh dumbification once i think.
all you did was throw non-stop insults at him — about his attitude, abilities, skills. . . maybe his choice of clothing too. well, that last one was purely added due to your own pettiness.
the heated argument had started when you came over to your ex-boyfriend’s house to pick up the last few items you had left there before the break up. the reason of why you two decided to go off against one another was long forgotten.
that was solely due to the underlying tension between you two. there was something about seeing suguru in such a furious mood that was extremely attractive — he secretly had the exact same thoughts about you too.
the sexual tension seemed to peak once suguru had stopped your hand from coming in touch with his face. it was intended to be a slap to the face out of frustration, however nothing came out of it.
. . maybe except for the fact that you were the one getting slapped now—though in a more sexual way;
“sorry? yeah, hah, too fuckin’ late.” suguru spits whilst keeping your wrists pinned above your head, hips ramming against yours, throbbing cock now balls deep inside you, “should’ve taught twice before catching an attitude with me, sweetheart.”
oh, he was livid. that ‘sweetheart’ didn’t hold its usual sweetness. it was filled with spite, though just a crumble of longing laid underneath. as if he missed you — as if he still yearned for you.
“‘m sorry, sorr—sorry, suguru !” you mewl. that’s all you could manage to do under the grasp of that man as he had you pinned to the couch in the living room, your face a crying mess from both the argument and the turn of events.
one thing about suguru that you did certainly miss was the way he could pleasure you. he did it so well, so precisely—no other man you had been with could ever compare. it’d be a lie to say that you weren’t glad your little visit turned out like this;
“ah, fuck—missed seeing your pretty face like this,” suguru whispers under his breath, lips grazing against yours for a single second. it was enough to leave you stunned and even more embarrassed. exactly what he was trying to accomplish, “missed seeing you cry, drool and beg for my cock. missed seeing you being a little slut for me.”
your nails were digging onto suguru’s triceps, teary eyes looking at him like you were begging him to help you reach your climax — for him not to stop once you were so close to that point of no return. you knew your ex had a thing for edging you, though that’s the last thing you want right now.
not when this felt so right. the way suguru was fucking you was rough and harsh, like he was outing his frustrations on you, but it also slowly started to turn into something more passionate. seeing your tears, hearing your sobs and your pleas definitely made suguru soften up a bit more.
it was almost like he was back to his usual self; the soft and gentle boy you had met in high school. it didn’t seem like the suguru you had broken up with; the guy whose ideals clashed with yours.
“fuuuuck, ‘m sorry, suguru—promise w-won’t say anything like that anymore !” you try and beg once more, though were quickly shut up when suguru went in for a kiss. you instantly melt, not caring about any consequences in this moment—not when he’s fucking you so well. treating you so well.
his tongue invaded your mouth for a couple seconds, groaning at the feeling, before pulling away with a small grin. his harsh thrusting motions eventually turn into gentle yet frustrating grinding ones. he drove his cock into your sopping wet cunt so extremely slow that it made you beg once more.
“shh, shh. don’t overuse that little brain of yours and just cum for me, yeah? that’s all i need you to do, darling.” suguru encourages with a cocky yet sweet smirk.
he was proud that he still had it; the power and skills to drive you insane with pleasure and satisfaction. especially when he was grinding into you ever so slowly, tip grazing against your cervix with each motion.
you were right at the edge of euphoria; almost there. as was suguru, which was obvious due to the increased intensity of his hip movements, switching once more to fierce thrusts. the coil in your stomach was threatening to snap—
“mnhh, can’t wait to fill that pretty pussy again.” the dark-haired man teases through a series of grunts, already imagining the perfect picture: your cunt overflowing with that familiar sticky liquid, watching it dribble out of you.
claiming you as his. even if you weren’t anymore, suguru still had the urge to. he needed - no - desired you back. he wanted to show you those feelings and thus decides to do exactly that by finishing your little session in the best way possible,
“oh, fuck!”
whilst you were still babbling incoherent apologies, suguru had already given up on holding back. he swore to have never released so much. ever.
the warmth filling your insides was a sensation you hadn’t thought you’d have missed this much. you gasp and finish yourself off solely due to the feeling of suguru’s cum spreading in your womb.
“. . . i missed this — i missed you.” your ex-boyfriend sighs and collapses on top of you, not even bothering to pull out. you instinctively wrap your arms around his back and keep him there.
suguru doesn’t protest and just rests his head next to yours, kissing your cheek gently. a simple peck, yet it was filled with emotion.
“missed you too.” you reply quietly. it stays silent like that for a while. there was no need to speak any more—not when the silence spoke volumes;
neither of you seemed to be in the mood to separate from each other. not again.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk fic#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#THIS S SO BADashhesveh
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i just know the next time you see suguru he’s like “oh hey! it’s the guy/girl who unfollowed me! fancy seeing you here 😒” because he’s just as petty as satoru’s ass. best friend match made in heaven 💀
i’m writing this for the sake of fun i’m not tagging (bc how do you tag platonic shit ??) but yeah … platonic! suguru + reader ft. rb! gojo (briefly)
seeing suguru is….well, awkward to say the least.
you hope for a moment that maybe he’ll ignore the fact that you removed him off of everything—instagram, twitter, snapchat, even venmo (he and satoru had a good laugh about that, much to your dismay.) but suguru is suguru and there is a reason why he gets along so well with satoru—and that’s because they’re equally as petty.
unfortunately.
“oh, hey,” he drawls, staring at his nails as his lips purse when you walk up, “it’s you. where do i know you from again? oh, right. i used to follow you on socials, didn’t i? yeah, that was a while ago. how’ve you been, stranger?”
“suguru, it’s been eight days,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.
“oh so we’re on first name basis? i didn’t realize—most of the people i’m on first name basis with follow me.”
“i didn’t have a choice,” you pout—and satoru (who for once doesn’t defend you) makes himself present from the distance as he calls out you definitely had a choice!
you sigh, deflating.
“i’m sorry i removed you from instagram,” you mumble. suguru raises a brow, unimpressed. “and twitter. and snap.”
“and?” he presses, making you huff in embarrassment and satoru chuckle in glee.
“….and venmo,” you say quietly. suguru snorts—it’s a good sign, at least.
“what was i gonna do? message you on venmo? please send me money for breaking my friend’s heart,” he mocks, making you pout deeper. yeah, you think, satoru and suguru are a match made in heaven—maybe satoru should date him instead of you.
“it’s not like i wanted to,” you say quietly, “i was in a tough spot.”
suguru is good natured, always has been. you used to think that being satoru’s best friend since childhood would make him susceptible to blindly picking your boyfriend’s side—but he’s not like that. he’s reasonable, defends you when he sees fit even if it means disagreeing with satoru. and he’s kind, dependable, treats you like family, looks out for you just like he does satoru.
suguru isn’t just your boyfriend’s best friend—he’s more than that to you. and when his face softens at your dejected one, you know he feels the same way.
“i know,” he says gently, flicking your forehead with that affectionate smile he always throws you, “that old man had it out for you. but i didn’t do anything. why did i have to get roped in?”
“glad to know you’d still follow my ex if we broke up,” satoru grumbles from the side, walking up to you both with a pile of sweets in his hands (which is an ungodly amount for just one person—and you know he intends to eat it all alone.)
“well, i didn’t want to make toru more sad,” you defend, “he seemed to be pretty in his feels. marvin’s room said enough.”
“i was about to remove him too after that one,” suguru crinkles his nose—which only makes satoru whine more about how you both can’t be mean together now! and how his feelings are still sensitive!
“that was terrible,” you snort, agreeing.
“anyway, can i maybe get my follow privileges back,” suguru raises a brow expectantly, crossing his arms, “you guys are back together and you still haven’t added me on anything. that’s foul.”
“i was nervous,” you defend through a whine, “what if you were mad?”
“i am mad,” he grumbles, “i was innocent.”
“i’m sorry suguru,” you pat his arm, “you’re right, it’s not your fault you’re stuck with satoru. he has no other friends.”
“huh? i have shoko!” satoru insists, gasping, “and nanami! and—”
“you’re right,” suguru sighs and nods, cutting satoru off, “if i drop him, he’ll be a loner. i’m stuck.”
satoru looks wounded. maybe heartbroken all over again, in fact. “wha—hey! you totally said i’m better off when i was first dumped! why are you acting like—”
“you and i are kind of the same,” you sigh playfully, “stuck with satoru for good. we’ll need to be each other’s support systems. rough times are ahead.”
“we can start with following each other back on socials, maybe,” he huffs, making you giggle lightly. and then he smiles, bringing you into a gentle hug, “glad you’re back. missed you.”
“thanks,” you mumble, “i missed you too.”
“can i join the hug?” satoru whines from behind, “i was the real victim here!”
suguru is so babie. bestest friend ever.
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║My Ex, The Oni║║━ Pt. 1 ━║
ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║21,113
The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞
↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.
Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 82PIGEON on X (Twitter) Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)
Steam wafts off your skin, a transparent whisp that floats from the intense heat emanating from your body. Soaked hair sticks to your limbs before you lean forward and wrap a towel around them to flip over.
The ringing continues from your bedroom, blaring like scratches on the walls that spur you quickly exit from the bathroom. 'Don Juan,' his nickname since forever, flickers on the screen with the image of his stupid face.
Fixing your robe, you answer and place it on the speaker. "Hello!!! I've been callin' for the past ten minutes." Rafe drags his voice out, stretching his vowels in the way he loves to when he's irritated.
"I was in the shower, babe. You already know eight o'clock is shower time." You jeer and respond in the same manner.
"Right, right." His response is calmer now as he releases a deep sigh. "Sorry, It's just busy at work, but I needed to know if you were busy tomorrow. My parents are visiting, and they want to see you. I know last time they were kind of rude, but that is just how they play around. My entire family is blunt like that, so I guess it's just in blood, haha."
In an instant, you're biting your lip while your dominant hand curls into a fist. That a**hole, how many times do you have to tell him that you're not going to meet them again after last time? They blatantly insulted you and passed it off as jokes and gags in front of your face and his presence.
You were surprised you were able to grin and bear it, taking their backhanded compliments and disrespect with awkward laughs and bows of your head. Not again; you're not going to take it again with Rafe sitting right by your side with silence on his tongue.
"Rafe, come on. I've already told you I'm not going to see them again unless I get a genuine apology."
"How can they give you a genuine apology if you won't see them again."
He silences you in that moment as you stop mid-movement from grabbing your panties. "Touché, Don Juan." Rafe had a point. However, your body is engraved with pettiness. The hurt and humiliation they gave you had riddled your very bones with hatred.
Forgiving them feels like losing the battle and accepting their disrespect. It's been one of your negatives since a young age, bearing rage and grudges even if they affected your closest relationships. Even your therapist struggles to help you settle those internal grievances.
"I've talked with them, you know. It's hard for them to understand that their bluntness is not something everyone appreciates." You're both silent after his words; the only noise coming from the club is the muted music from the club he bartends at.
Standing in the middle of your room, with only your panties and damp robe on, you find yourself fighting your resolve as water dries off your skin from the a/c. Now that the heat cools into a mellowness, even your anger somewhat subsides.
Rafe then cuts the silence as he speaks. "It's only for coffee at Selena's. With the holiday coming up, they wanted to see you and me before they leave. And that means a lot, you know, the fact that they want to see you again."
Ugh, you're starting to feel bad for constantly rejecting their invites. Only slightly bad, however, because you cannot forget those snide remarks that yeiled your blood to boil. Though...maybe they weren't that bad, but you took them the wrong way because as soon as someone offends you, you close off and refuse to listen anymore.
However, that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid.
"Fine. I'll come but only for an hour. But if they act the same way they did last time, then I'm out. I'm not just going to sit there and take everything while you act like a coward. Got it?"
"Got it." He murmurs while you hear the sound of his clothes shifting. "And again, I'm sorry about how I acted last time. It was cowardly, and I didn't consider your feelings."
With a nod of your head, you part your lips to respond; however, a ring from the foyer of your apartment solidifies you in your spot. Immediately, you're on the defense, body tense and eyes narrowed.
"Hold up, someone's at my door." You whisper before grabbing your phone, muting it, and stalking close to your door. The emergency services are already dialed, only awaiting the call button in case something goes wrong.
Pressing a button on your apartment intercom, the blank screen flashes to show the video imaging outside your door, and you cannot believe who stands in front of your entrance with a smug a** grin.
"Oh, my f*cking god." You seethe with the blood inside of your heating up before unmuting your call. "It's nobody important. I call you back; love you, babe."
"'kay. Be safe, and I love you too. I finish at two, so if you're still up, I call you later."
Ending the call, you undo the towel in your hair to throw it aside and unlock your door. With a harsh tug, you open it with a deep glare. "What the hell are you doing here, and how the hell do you know where I live?"
Kohaku stands there with that stupid a** grin and glint in his heterochromia eyes. "Come on, can't a guy just say hi?"
He looks the same as he did in high school, only more muscular as his clothes stretched across his limbs. His hair is still that ink-black slop with the strip of white strands, only longer and slightly styled.
The little horns on his forehead remain as cute as ever, as much as you hate to admit it. Piercings riddle his pointed ears, and you wonder how he got them done when he's always been a little b*tch about the sensitivity of his earlobe.
"Not even on my grave would I let you even say hi. What the f*ck do want?" You sneer, though it does nothing to wipe off his grin.
With a snap of his fingers, he points them at you like finger guns. "First off, you look cute in that robe, but it's a little too short. Not that I mind~." Your face heats up with the boiling of your blood. "Second of all," He suddenly twists around and picks up a...a little girl!? "-I need you to watch this sprat for a couple of months."
He hands her to you, holding her up from under her armpits like he's attempting to hand over a stray pet. The kid doesn't even seem phased, staring with a bored(?) expression as though nothing is going on in her head.
She's small, maybe five or six, wearing an oversized pink sweater and knee-high black socks with beat-up sneakers. Her eyes, her eyes hold two different colors, one icy blue and the other lime green. She had her own pair of horns that matched her tan skin with the tips slightly peachy red. Even her hair was the same ink black with the one area in the front white from his genetic disorder. It was long, down to her ankles, and unruly. Tangles are everywhere, and the frizz overtakes her head like lions made.
"Excuse me...? Ex-f*cking-scuse me!?" The roar of your voice was louder than you meant, and you knew in an instant that your neighbors were going to complain. "F*ck, f*ck." You whisper to yourself while opening the door wider and pointing inside. "Get in, quick."
That grin grew as he waltzed in and immediately began inspecting your place.
Shutting the door and locking it, you turn back with your arms crossed and a wicked glare. "You got some explaining to do because what in your right mind thinks you can just waltz up in here after everything you did and think I would do you favor? Much less-" You point to the kid he's still carrying. "The favor being taking care of a brat from when you cheated on me?"
Finally, Kohaku's smile drops as he frowns awkwardly. "Well...when you put it like that, it makes me look like a really bad guy."
"You are the bad guy." It seems your words nicked a nerve as his blue and green eyes flickered to your face, and his frown withered.
The Oni set the girl down on your laminated wooden floors before swiping a hand across his mouth and looking away. "It wasn't like that. You know I would never cheat on you. I just-"
You cannot even handle hearing anymore. The sound of his voice that you used to love trying to justify the way he broke your heart is something you can't bear. "You just what? You got some f*cken freedom in college and went off to do your own thing? Got to finally get away from my 'overbearingness' and 'clinginess' so you could f*ck around with, how did you put it, 'woman that wasn't like me'?"
Kohaku inhaled a deep breath and finally met your gaze as he placed an open hand on his broad chest. "I was childish and selfish. People were treating me like someone important, and I let it go to my head. I said things I didn't mean-"
Tears are burning in your eyes, burning like poison, as you step forward to grab the front of his shirt and tug. "You called me in the middle of the night while you were at a party just to tell me things were over! You had been neglecting me for weeks, and when you finally called, when I could finally hear your voice again, it was just to break up so you could f*ck some skank without a guilty conscious!"
He suddenly grips your wrist, the heat of his touch almost shocking you like electricity as he tears off your hold. "The way I broke up with you was f*cked up, I admit it. I apologize for that. But at least I had the f*cken decently to break up instead of cheating on you, instead of hiding it behind your back. I loved you enough to not do that sh*t to you."
"...What!?" You laugh in disbelief while yanking your arm out of his grasp. "Loved me enough!? If you had even loved me, you wouldn't have been ignoring me when you entered college! You wouldn't have stopped answering my calls! For f*cks sake, if you had really loved me, you wouldn't have broken up with me for some one-night stand when I was your girlfriend you promised to marry!"
Banging erupts from your living room wall, most likely from your neighbor to tell you to shut the f*ck up. It was already late, people were trying to sleep, and you were having a breakdown. Now that you could hear the silence of the apartment and feel the blood pumping in your veins, you then also realized tears were snaking down your cheeks.
"Damn." You whisper and turn your head away to march towards the kitchen. "I can't deal with you sober." It didn't take long for you to pour yourself a shot and downing it before grabbing a beer can and gulping half so the effects could hit you sooner.
From the entranceway, Kohaku says something to the girl before making his way over. You don't even look at him, leaning against the counter as the can hangs loosely between your fingers. So many years have passed since then, yet the wound of it all remains unhealed. He was your first love, someone you gave yourself to wholeheartedly.
You loved him with everything you had and believed that you both would go to the same college together, then marry later on, have a family, and grow old together. Truthfully, you should have known better; you romanticized that relationship. You both were just kids from a small town, not realizing how big the world was.
Well, you didn't. Because he was a grade above you, he went off to university first, and that's when he got a taste of what the real world was like. That's when he experienced so many things that a small town just can't provide.
He had his eyes opened while you remained blissfully ignorant.
Now that time has passed, you have experienced those feelings firsthand. The world was so different; there was so much going on that you would have never encountered if you stayed in that town. You get it; you get that you were just holding him back.
But that doesn't stop the hurt from becoming any less painful. It's been how many years, yet the feeling of betrayal still feels so fresh it's almost pathetic.
Were you the one who was more in love than he was? Is that why you're still hurt after all these years, even though you've already moved on?
"I'm sorry."
His voice right now is no longer pissing you off; it's just making you feel even more pathetic. You don't know if you ever quell the hatred from how he broke up with you, and that's sad. He did the adult thing and ended it instead of just lying behind your back.
How he went about it was wrong, but he did the right thing and left the relationship. You should be over it by now, but with his reappearance, those feelings have returned.
"...Don't... You're not sorry. You're just tryna make me feel better, and it's only make me feel worse." You murmur while covering your mouth and burping slightly from the carbonation. "So... who is the kid? Gotta be your daughter 'cause she's got that same stupid a** white streak."
Kohaku laughs in his throat before leaning against the wall on his side and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You used to love it." He teases, and you can tell he really is trying to lighten the mood, but you don't want any of that. "Well, today is actually the first time I've met her."
"Oh." You release like a breath of air before turning your head to face him. "Do tell."
He rubs the back of his neck with the leather of his jacket, squeaking from his movements. "That girl from college, we actually started dating after we...you know."
Something stings in your heart, but it drifts away in slow rolls as you breathe it out. "Wow. I guess it wasn't just some one-night stand, then. Don't know if it makes me feel better or worse, though."
He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. "Well, a couple of years later, she cheated on me, so we broke up. After that, I transferred to a different university and never saw her again or remained in contact with her. That was until this morning, she just showed up with the girl and some papers and declared I had full custody. She told me that the girl would be my full responsibility and I could do whatever I wanted without getting my ex involved. Then she just left."
You laugh under your breath. "Drops the responsibility on to you, huh, and now you're doing the same to me. And that girl isn't even mine." Whether you meant to or not, the last part poured from your lips with petty abhorrence.
It was your dream to have a child, to share a child with him that was from the both of you. Someone else got to have that dream, yet they threw it away so carelessly.
Kohaku stands to his full stature and steps forward. His height grows, and you remember the enormous height difference that you used to love. Somehow, he feels even taller than you remember.
"I'm sorry." He exclaims and places an open hand on your back. Was his hands always this big? It feels like he could cover so much space. "I'm really sorry for doing that. I'm not in the position to take care of her, nor is it safe for a kid to be around me. There's no one else I could think of but you to ask for this favor."
You lick your lips and stare into those multi-colored eyes. "Safe? And you couldn't ask anyone else's in your life? No other friends or girlfriends? Not even your dad?"
He removes his hand to place it against his chest as though he were wounded. "First of all, aren't you honored that you're the only one I can think of after all these years?"
You give him a deadpan expression while pointing a finger at him. "No."
"You're literally no fun." He whines. "And for your information, Dad would make things more complicated than they would need to be. I don't need that right now when I've got to figure things out."
A laugh ripples from your mouth and echoes out. "Ahh, your dad would grab you by the horn and go and on about family values 'till your ear would fall off. Then he'd put that girl to work on the farms. That old fart wouldn't miss any opportunity for free labor."
Even speaking of it brings forth memories of helping around the farm because you were too nice to say no. He always managed to keep you around for hours until your mother would come to get you. You'd be all dirty, sweaty, and (tanned/burned) from being under the sun for so long.
You hated those times, but they are memories you will never forget. They were part of your childhood and adolescence, and they did give you some muscle that helped you do well in sports.
Sighing, you lean forward to rest your arms on the counter and your cheek on your wrist as the dizziness comes forth. "How is your old man?"
"Same old, same old." He responds and maneuvers so he's resting his behind against the counter and elbows on it to hold up his weight. "He'll honestly outlive us from his sheer stubbornness."
That statement couldn't be any more true. If you were the queen of pettiness, then his father was the king of stubbornness. Whatever his dad decided on, he would stick with it to the end, even if he were in the complete wrong.
As much as you love the big world and the big city, there is that nostalgic feeling of sitting on his father's porch in that big squeaky rocking chair and drinking a fresh glass of lemonade. It would be nice to do that again and stare out onto the massive field of his farmland, feeling the cool breeze on your skin.
The same four country songs always seemed to play from his beat-up radio, yet he refused to let anyone change the station. You used to hate that and dread even the sound of a guitar. Now, you find yourself missing it.
"I miss your batty old dad." You state, mumbling under your breath and blinking heavily.
Kohaku laughs and nods his head with a slight grin. "As much as that old man gets on my nerves, I miss him too."
Nothing more is stated; instead, sharing a deep silence that would have been awkward to others but was comforting to both of you.
Surprisingly, you were looking at the past and yearning for the simpler times. Doing so usually would just leave you aggravated, but tonight, it was pacifying. Life is always so busy, and you like that it never leaves you a moment to dwell on the past and what could have been.
Maybe you just needed to get those feelings off your chest. After the breakup, you were never in contact with him again. The anger from the heartbreak had you crumble up all those feelings and throw them down in a void.
They were a weakness, something you refused to give in to. But the anger remained, and questions you always wanted to ask were stuck in the back of your head. They didn't push forward, they didn't take precedent, they were just there, waiting.
Sniffling, you stand up and step over to the sink to dump the rest of your beer. "What is her name?"
"Simat? If I could name her, it would have been something cooler."
You angle your head back to sneer at him. "Don't kid yourself. You would have named her something ridiculous like your Gamertag. I don't even want to hear it." If there is one thing he should never get his hands on, it's naming.
Abpruplty, your phone rings, and you see Rafe on the screen. You didn't realize how close it was to one o'clock.
"Ouu, your boyfriend." Kohaku teases as he snatches your phone to look at the picture. "Hmm, he's decent looking and has good nose genetics. However, you could do better. And what's with that name? Don Juan is so ridiculous. And you're the one saying I suck at coming up with names." He utters with a finger on his chin as though he were profoundly contemplating.
"A**hole." You exclaim and snatch back your cellular device, only for the call to end. "It's a joke nickname from our friend group. And as an ex-boyfriend, you have no right to judge my boyfriend."
The Oni falls back comically while holding a hand against his chest, tugging at it as though he were having a heart attack. "You wound me, (Y/n). As an ex-boyfriend, I have every right. I have to make sure the men you get with aren't better looking than me!"
His response yields another deep sigh, and you shift your weight onto one leg and cross your arms beneath your bust. "Get the f*ck out of my apartment."
"What about-"
"I will do you this favor one time, but after, don't ever come back asking for anything. Don't ever come back, period. You're from my past; you don't belong in my future." With that said, you stride past the muscular man and back to the living room, where the little girl sits playing with a big Orc doll.
Kohaku follows you around your couch and kneels in front of the girl. He places his big hands on her knees and gains her attention. "I have to go now. I'm sorry for leaving your side, but it's not safe at my place. I'll be coming around every few days to see you, okay?"
Simat doesn't speak, but she nods her head before resuming her attention on her big green doll. The older Oni appears to be observing her appearance for a few seconds before standing up and placing a hand on her head to ruffle her already disorderly hair.
With one last look, he begins making his way to your front door, with you following behind. "Should I give you my email so you can notify me when you're coming to see her or-"
"No, I've already got your number," Kohaku states before winking and exiting the front door. "By the way, you need a new robe. I can see your a**cheeks, not that I mind~!"
"Kohaku, you pervert! Wait, how!? I changed my number after high school!" You question in the hallway, but he refrains from responding, only waving his hand until he disappears around the corner.
With a defeated sigh, you close the door and lock it. Now, it's just the two of you alone in your apartment. It's awkward, and you cannot help the painful feelings. Resentment fills your veins, a nasty bitterness that corrodes your insides.
You have to remind yourself that this child is an innocent bystander, someone who had no say in what had transpired. It was not her fault she was born, much less from your ex-boyfriend. It's just the way things were.
Finally, you were able to shake yourself up enough to go to your room, grab some undersized clothes that she could fit into, and return.
"Simat?" She slowly looks up from her doll and stares with her heterochromia eyes. From the moment you met her, that dead expression has remained, not once going away. She's not crying for Mommy or Daddy; she's not afraid of some stranger standing in front of her.
It's eerie, almost scary, and it slowly eats away the corroding of resentment. "Do you want to shower or sleep?" You ask her softly, yet she only stares at you with those lifeless eyes. If it were not for the slight movement of her chest from breathing, you would have thought she was some broken, dirty doll thrown out.
"Okay, umm. Take these clothes and change in the bathroom. I'll make the bed for you." Without wasting time, she stands up to take the clothes and make her way down the hall to the bathroom. You didn't tell her where it was, but she must have been looking around while you and Kohaku were talking.
She looks pitiful; you cannot help but feel bad for her.
With her changing, you push forward the coffee table to pull out the bed. It was an expensive couch you bought a while ago for when your girlfriends were too drunk to go home. With their picky choices, you were able to find this one that they actually liked, so it should be good enough for the girl.
It already has clean sheets, so you go to the closet to grab the piles of pillows and blankets you have before making the bed. Simat returns soon after in your PJs before placing her sweater, socks, and shoes in her little pink bag.
"Do you want to watch something or..." Simat only stares at you as she stands in her spot. With a slight narrowing of your eyes, you point your hand that had the remote at the bed. "Go lay down." Instantly, the girl listens, grasping the blanket to help haul herself on top. "Simat, get off for a second." Without a complaint, she does so, sliding off and standing right next to it with no change in her expression.
The pity you felt had intensified, and you suddenly regretted the way you had spoken to her earlier. She seems very closed off for a young girl when she should be expressing herself at this age. Even more, she's incredibly obedient, following orders without a word or complaint.
"Come sit here for a second. I want to talk to you." The girl listens, climbing back up before crossing her legs and holding the doll against her chest.
Slowly, you sit on the edge and lick your lips while trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry for all the yelling you heard earlier. I was just really upset, but that is no excuse. My name is (Y/n). I was your daddy's friend from a long time ago." No words, just a blank stare. "Uh, you'll be staying with me for a while, but your father will be here every few days. I don't have a daughter, so I'm not sure how to take care of you, but if there are things that you don't like, then don't be afraid to tell me. I don't know how things were at your mom's, but here you have every option you want, whether it's if you want to watch TV or not. Okay?"
No response; her nose barely even flares as she breathes. "To make things easier, nod your head for okay or yes. Shake for no. Okay?" For a second, she seems to hesitate before finally she moves her head up and down a little.
It feels like a small victory, and you cannot help but smile. "I'm not good at this stuff, but let's learn together, okay?" Again, it takes her a few seconds as though she is thinking about it, but she nods. "Alright. I'm going to put a kid's movie on, but if you don't like it, then here is the remote. You can stay up however long you want for now. In the morning, we'll have breakfast, and then we'll go from there."
Slowly, she nods her head, which spurs you to softly pat her head before standing up and pulling the covers over her lap. "Goodnight, Simat. I'll see you in the morning." The girl doesn't say anything, only sinking into the pillows and staring at the large TV screen.
Without making much noise, you go to your own bed only to pass out once your head hits the pillow. You hadn't even changed out of your robe, and you're too tired from the emotional rollercoaster no one but your ex can make you ride.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
In the morning, you are woken up by the ringing of your phone. Your eyes are still closed, and your mind is half awake as you answer. "Hmm."
"'Morning, babe. I'm almost done getting ready. Then I'm going to come get you to go to Selena's." Rafe's voice comes out from the device, and you hum in response.
However, after a few seconds, your head shoots up as your eyes widen. Sh*t, how are you going to explain to him that you're babysitting your ex-boyfriend's kid after no contact for like six years? Rafe is already super jealous and not trusting of any males in your life. His parents would be even worse if you showed up out of the blue with some kid who wasn't their son's offspring.
Dammit
"Sh*t babe, I forgot I've already made plans with my sister." You lie straight through your teeth as you sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your sister isn't even in the same country, busy on her own holiday voyage that he hopefully doesn't know about.
"What?" Rafe questions and scoffs. "Come on, can't you just take a raincheck? You keep skipping out every time they want to see you, and I already told them you were coming last night. You know how it's going to look when you cancel again."
It does look bad that you are ignoring them, but so what? They were so incredibly rude last time, and seeing them would ruin your day, even if they want to apologize. "It's not my fault they found it so funny to call me slurs and laugh about it in front of my face. I can take a slur as a joke, but they weren't joking. I'll see them when I want to see them. I'm getting ready; I'll call you later." Rafe begins saying something, but you do not even let him get his words out, quickly hanging up and collapsing onto your back.
Staring up at your ceiling, you take deep breaths to calm your vexation before slowly sitting up. Your back and neck hurt from falling asleep in that awkward position without moving. You must have been exhausted to sleep like the dead.
After taking a moment to center yourself entirely, you get up and open the door to step down the hallway and into the living room quietly. The TV is still on, playing the Lorax halfway through as you peek over the couch.
Simat was awake, hugging her Orc doll while watching the movie. "Good morning, Simat. Did you sleep?" She looks over before slowly nodding her head. "Are you hungry?" Another nod. "Okay, come. Go sit at the counter over there and wait while I make something."
She does need to be told twice, obediently following orders as she crawls out of bed and shuffles to the bar stools. You had to hold back your laughter as you watched her struggle to get up, climbing like a little monkey.
"Alright, let's see..." you murmur while opening the fridge. You look through its contents before removing some strawberries, butter, and milk and setting them on the counter. "I'm going to make pancakes. Are you okay with that?" Another nod.
Silently, you begin pulling out all the other ingredients you need before setting up the skillet. Simats eyes are watching you the whole time, and you wonder if she's just curious or if she watches your every move out of fear to watch for danger.
Her silence and obedience already strike you as odd, but it might not be far from a stretch to assume she was abused or, more so, neglected. There is not much you can do as an outsider; she's not even your daughter. But for now, you can just try to give her options and help her understand that it's safe in this place even though you are a stranger.
"When I was a kid, my mom used to make pancakes that looked just like characters from my favorite anime. Have you heard of Sailor Moon?" When you turn, you see that she shakes her head no. "Really? We should watch it some time then. It's an older series, so the graphics are not that great, but I prefer it still over the remake. Just something about the new one; I just don't like it."
With the batter mixed, you begin pouring small pools onto a hot skillet. "You know, when I don't like things, I won't do them. If I don't like it, if it hurts me or would make me unhappy, I don't do it." Flipping a pancake, you reach up in the cupboard to grab a plate. "I want you to understand that you are safe here to express yourself. You won't get hurt or yelled at if you say no. I will respect you enough to listen to your feelings, but I need you to respect me enough to listen too, okay?"
You don't turn your head to look at her, but you can feel her nod. You're unsure if she is truly listening to you or taking your words seriously. Hopefully, she'll keep your words in mind while she stays here.
After the food was done, you cut up some strawberries and lathered the pancakes in butter before presenting them to the girl and giving her two different bottles of syrup, one with a rich taste and another with a more robust flavor.
She didn't eat or even lift her fork, only continuing to watch you as you made your way around the bar and took a seat next to her. Her eyes observed as you grabbed the first bottle, poured it over your food, and began cutting it up. Once you had put the bottle down, she grabbed the one you had and poured it over her plate almost the same way you did (dousing it/light covering it).
Only when you started eating did she tear off a small piece and eat. It was both cute, as though she were mimicking you, but sad as you wondered if she wanted to make sure it was safe to eat or if she even had the right to eat.
Silently, you both ate together until you finished and stood up to begin washing the dishes. Simat was still eating, but when you turned to check up on her, you noticed she was eating slowly and took smaller bites than before.
"If you're full, do not force yourself to eat more than what you can handle. I won't yell or hurt you if you are done. And you're not wasting food; you just can't eat anymore." It seemed your words were exactly what she needed to hear as she dropped her fork and leaned back, seeming to pat her belly softly.
It was too cute, like an arrow to the heart. "Good girl," you told her, then took her plate, emptied the rest away, and finished the clean-up.
After a few minutes of cleaning, you heard the chair scrape, and Simat came over to the kitchen. She stood right by your side, with her eyes never straying from your figure. Is food the way into this little girl's heart?
"Woo, I hate washing dishes." You joke with a little laugh before turning to the kid. That unruly hair needs to be taken care of, and she's even got some syrup on her chin that's shining in the light. "Alright, let's bathe you. Come follow me."
Obediently, she follows you down the hall to the bathroom, where you turn the shower handle, and water bursts into the clean, porcelain basin. "Do you want hot water and bubbles?" she nods. "Good; I love bubbles, too."
As the tub fills with an obscene amount of bubbles, you begin to help her undress. Other than her matching markings beneath the eyes she obtained from her father, there don't appear to be any scars or markings.
It was a sigh of relief; you don't think you could hold in your anger if there were physical signs of abuse. She's not you're kid, she's not your daughter, but hurting any child in a manner was unacceptable. A slap here and there if a kid really needs discipline, but anything more would earn your fist in the parent's face. Every kid deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a kid.
When Simat enters the tub, her attention is immediately stolen by the piles of bubbles, and she begins to play with them. She places them on her chin and cheeks, almost mimicking a beard that brings forth a laugh.
For a second, she glances at you before returning it to the tub and adding more to her fake beard, the shape taking the form of a long wizard beard. "You make a good wizard. Should I buy you a cape and a wand?" Your joke, which you said more to yourself, had earned the child's gaze. Finally, those dead eyes hold a twinkle, a soft sparkle deep inside her colored irises.
In an instant, you make a mental note to buy a wand and a cape immediately after this.
While she continued to play, you washed her lengthy hair, which was way thicker than you expected. You thought you used a lot of conditioner, but this girl gave you a run for your money. You're going to have to buy more while she stays here, in fact, you need to buy lots of things.
Not that you mind, shopping is fun, and even more fun when you have that Christmas bonus your boss gave everyone for the holidays.
Once the water begins to turn lukewarm and the bubbles cease, you help her out and give her one of your robes. It was too oversized for her, but she looked cute in it. The two of you enter your bedroom, where you lift and sit her at the edge of your bed while you go scouring through your clothes for something around her size.
There isn't any underwear that would fit, so you put down a pair of black biker shorts that shrunk in the wash. Even most of your shirts, other than your office clothes, are inappropriate for her age, so for now, you give her one of your crop top sweaters that is just long enough to reach her hips.
"Alright, you can change into these and then meet me in the bathroom so we can take care of your hair." She nods and reaches for the clothes while you exit and shut the door for privacy. While she does that, you'll brush your teeth and do your own hair since it dried awkwardly last night.
It's still unbelievable what is happening. After six years, your first love shows up on your doorstep to drop off a daughter he didn't even know he had; what a joke. It feels like a joke, a cruel joke being played.
When you were just a teen, you used to dream about your future and imagine all these different scenarios of what your life would be like together. You'd probably have a couple of kids, all taking after their father, considering that Oni's blood was seriously dominant.
Simat really does look like her father other than her tan skin, which made her eyes really pop. There's a knock at the door, and you tell her to come in just as you finish (throwing your hair up/pinning it back).
She looks charming in your clothes, almost looking like you, frankly. Waving her over, she takes a step in front of you by the sink as you reach for a brush. "It doesn't seem like anyone took care of your beautiful hair, so I'm going to brush it and then cut a little. Is that okay?" Another nod so you diligently get to work.
Her tangles had mostly calmed down after you soaked it in detangler, so you didn't have to struggle much. However, the ends were really poor, with a considerable amount of split ends, so you had to cut off quite a few inches. Those precious locks that reached her ankles were now just a little past her bum, but now that you see curls coming in, you realize she had curly hair.
No one seemed to take care of it, so there's no way those curls would have flourished. Luckily, you had some curl cream that would do wonders for the shape.
"I'm going to use the blow dryer, so be prepared for the loud noise, okay?" Simat nodded as she raised her hands to cover her face, which was too cute. For now, you put it on medium and scrunched her hair while drying it from below.
"When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairstylist so bad. I thought I was so skilled when I gave all my dolls haircuts. Looking back at it now, I was actually pretty terrible, but my dad told me I was good enough to be a professional." You look at Simat in the mirror and see her daddy in every aspect. "Dads love their little girls very much. Sometimes, they're a little too overbearing, dictating everything we can and cannot do. I used to hate my dad, who always embarrassed me in front of my friends and never let me stay out late. But I look back on it and think how grateful I am that my father took my hate silently so that I could be protected."
You don't know what Kohaku has been doing these past years or what he's up to, but the one thing you know is that he would be a good father. After all, he brought Simat here to put her safety above all else, even if it made it look like he was abandoning her.
"Alright, you're all done! Look at these curls! You don't even know how much money girls spend just to get something similar." Simat lowers her hands to look in the mirror, and it is another arrow to the heart as she curiously raises her hair to play with the bounce. "Okay, go to the living room and finish your movie while I change."
You didn't even ask her a question, but she nodded her head and went down the hall. Slowly, she seems to be opening up, and hopefully, you can get her to be as comfortable as possible.
After cleaning up and putting everything away, you change into jeans and a turtleneck before grabbing a jacket and making your way over to the kitchen, where you left your phone. There are a couple of missed calls from Rafe and a few missed texts from his parents, but you don't even want to see them, so you just swipe them away.
To your surprise, there was a text from an unknown number.
◤
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Arise sunshine, I hope u got ur beauty sleep in. I'll be busy today and tomorrow, so I won't be able to talk much throughout the day, but before she goes to bed, try to give me a call. I'd like to speak to her.
Also, thanks again for taking care of her during my absence. I know it took u a lot to put aside everything and accept it, and I really appreciate that. No one is as reliable as u r. 💖 😘
◢
What a kissa**, trying to butter you to lessen your anger. Unfortunately, It's working. With a sigh, you lean against the wall and respond.
◤
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Yeah, yeah.
So far, Simat's doing really well. She's still pretty nonverbal, but I have her nodding yes and shaking her head for no. It seems like your ex really neglected her, but I'm trying to get her to open up at her own pace.
I'm going to take her shopping. I need to get her clothes that fit and some other necessities that the kid needs.
◢
To your surprise, right when you are about to put your cellular device away, it vibrates to show a reply from your ex.
◤
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Ur so responsible I'm envious😙😙
If there is one thing I miss, it's being coddled by u. It was nice to lay in bed and have u bring evryt to me.😪😵💫
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
Why do you still text like a teenage girl?
The amount of emojis you use makes me sick. Please get them off my screen before I block you and take your kid away.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
There is nothing against a grown man using abbreviations.
Stop being prejudiced (Y/n)😠🥶. U really need to fix that stereotyping.
+get Simat wtv she needs and get urself a little smth on the side.
Ps. If u still like cherry panties and end up buying sum, pls send pics.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
First of all, I'm an independent woman, and I make good money, so I can buy whatever Simat and I want.
SECOND OF ALL YOU LITTLE PERVERT
I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP!
DO NOT ASK FOR PANTY SHOTS UNLESS YOU'D LIKE MY BOYFRIEND TO HEAR ABOUT IT.
+XXX - XXX - YYYY
I can fight.
◢
He is literally so damn obnoxious you cannot stand him. You're just going to leave him on read, but you will take your money, not because you need it. Who would give up free money?
Shutting off your phone, you place it in your back pocket, grab your purse and keys from the nightstand, and then call out to the girl. "Come, Simat. We're going to go to the store and get you the things that you need."
The kid turned to face you before glancing down at her doll and then back at you. "Yes, you can bring your doll. Just don't drop it, okay." she nods quickly before hopping off the bed and running up to you.
With everything ready, you exit your front door and lock it with your keypad and fingerprint. Once that's done, the two of you make your way to the elevator, which requires a key card to operate, and begin your descent to the parking lot.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Simat didn't mind your music while on the ride; she seemed infatuated with the city, watching everything that could be seen. As she sits in the back seat, you give yourself a mental note to buy a booster seat as well.
Due to the morning traffic, it took a little while to get to the mall, but you both made it safely and parked close to the entrance. With there being many people on a Saturday morning, you crouch down and meet the girl's gaze.
"Do you want to hold my hand so you don't get lost in the crowd?" It didn't take much convincing for her to nod her head and stick out her left hand. With a smile, you grabbed it gently but held it firmly as the two of you entered.
With the holiday coming up, it was a bit hectic with all the people there, though the discounts and sales were a nice bonus. First, you wanted to get everything Simat needed before you even looked at your favorite stores.
Once you enter the mall and start looking at the things you like, you lose all sense of time and are there for hours.
The little Oni held your hand in her own as she obediently followed you and stayed by your side. While you shopped and picked up clothes that looked in her size, she surveyed everything she could. She watched people like they were in a movie, almost like something she didn't see very often.
After filling up your basket, it came to your favorite part: the try-on! Of course, you don't mean to take advantage of how obedient she is, but it is crucial that her clothes fit and look good.
Sitting by the bench by the mirrors and dressing rooms, you giddily awaited every outfit. And you were not disappointed! Every fit looked perfect with her adorable face, cute baby horns, and gorgeous curly hair. Honestly, if you hadn't gotten the job you did, you could have pursued fashion.
She looked good in everything, and you had to make sure to get a few onesies and animal sweatshirts. There was a hoodie with cat ears that she particularly liked looking at—geez, it was just absolutely adorable.
Even though Kohaku pissed you off, you still sent him a few pictures of his daughter that you were sure he'd appreciate.
With the clothes bought and paid for, you went to a store and let Simat look around. She seemed to like playdough and legos. Then, when coming across the stuffies, her eyes sparked on the dragon and wolf. Of course, they were a must, so you bought three each.
The Oni refused to let them pack it up, so she carried her Orc doll, one dragon, and one wolf stuffed toy. It was both adorable and funny how she carried around these massive toys with a blank look on her face.
Another snap of a picture, saved and sent.
Now that her part of the shopping was done, you decided to skip a few unimportant stores since you've already been shopping for so long. It helped that you rented out one of the children's push carts that have a fake car attached to the front so Simat could sit down when she got tired.
Surprisingly, it was nice shopping with Simat, although her obedience and non-verbal speech made it easy. You wonder what it would be like having your own child by your side to shop with. They'd probably be rowdy, complaining about being bored and exhausted from being on their feet.
And now that you're thinking about it, you don't even see having kids in the future, at least with Rafe. He's a good man; he makes you happy, and your relationship is decent and healthy. But right now, you can't see that far in the future with Rafe. You wonder if it's because your ex-boyfriend suddenly showed up again after six years to stir up your old feelings. It's hard to forget your first love when that was the person you believed wholeheartedly was yours forever.
But just like before, you'll have to let him go as he is only in your life again for a short while.
When the music quieted down, you were surprised to hear Simat's stomach growl. She even looked down, embarrassed. You told her that you were going to buy whatever was in your hand, and then you'd both get something to eat.
It was bustling in the food court with so many people talking and so much general noise. Holiday music was blaring through the speakers while the rings and dings that food was ready echoed out.
There's just something you love about places that are filled with vigor. Thankfully, Simat didn't seem to mind either as she rode in her little fake car. You got her some chicken tenders and fries and something simple for yourself since you wanted room for dinner, considering you both were eating a little later. For a dessert, though, you did decide to buy some cinnamon pretzels.
They've been your favorite snack since forever, something you always get whenever you're shopping at the mall.
Just like this morning, she seemed to wait until you started eating before digging it, but when she started eating, she didn't stop until it was empty. Again, she was even patting her full belly like earlier; geez, it was so cute!
Arrow to the heart!
A couple of times, Rafe tried to call, but you texted him that you were busy, and eventually, you just shut your phone to have some space from him. As much as you love him, you don't want to see him questioning if you're hanging out with other men while you're trying to enjoy the outing with Simat.
Once you both were done, you looked around a little more until an hour or two passed by, and then you decided it was time to move. You drove to the general store and bought the actual necessities Simat would need while also getting groceries and more toys. She got a few bubble blowers and bath playthings before you called it quits.
If you'd let her, she'd probably grab the entire bubble toy section.
Now that everything was purchased, you began the drive home with her new booster seat. Only a few minutes into the drive, she had fallen asleep against the door. You had to wait until a stop to take a picture of her mouth open and arms draped by the side.
You wonder if she felt safe enough to fall asleep in your presence. Most neglected children would probably stay awake for survival, so seeing her ease up like this was a blessing,
For the rest of the drive, you took your time with the music calm and on low. Oddly enough, this has probably been one of the most gratifying off days you've had. It was peaceful and fun...something you've been missing from life for a while now.
Pulling into the underground parking lot, you came to a stop and softly called out to the girl. She jolted awake quickly, blue and green eyes wide open as she assessed her surroundings before rapidly calming down and her expression resuming the usual blankness.
"Hey, girl. Did you have a good nap?" She slowly nodded her head while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "We are back now, but if you are still sleepy, you can finish your nap when we get upstairs." With another nod, you both exited the vehicle, grabbed all the bags, and made your way to the elevator.
With everything you got, it was actually cumbersome, but Mama ain't raise no b*tch, and you're going to take everything in one trip. "Press the button with the number 5." She studied the buttons for a second before clicking the right one and glancing up at you as though she were waiting for something. "Good job!" She nodded seriously.
On your floor, you took a deep breath before picking everything up again, speed-walked down the hall, and took the corner before reaching your place at the end. You entered the security lock and your thumbprint and pushed it wide open to carry everything in.
Quickly, you dropped everything down in the foyer and stood back to full height while shaking your arms. "Phew, my wrist." You complained softly before turning your attention to Simat, who stood silently by your side. "Alright, you can go watch TV while I put everything away. I'll start dinner after, and we'll eat together, okay?"
With one of her nods, she takes her three giant dolls and walks over to the living room before doing a little hop to get on the bed.
Now that you were preoccupied, you took your time putting away the groceries and necessities. With her clothes, you pulled out a couple of your collapsable bins and folded her clothes inside. It'll be in your room for now against the wall, so when she needs to change, everything will be right here.
For dinner, you made loco moco, which should be easily digestible. And who doesn't like hamburgers, rice, a sunny-side-up egg, and brown gravy? Like before, she waited until you took your seat and took a bite first before eating.
After this big plate, you honestly could go to sleep right then and there, but it was too early, and you didn't want to leave Simat alone. Her toys are all in the ottoman in the living room, so after washing dishes, you let her pull out the things she wanted and played along. Her obsession right now seemed to be the bubbles, so you stood around blowing them as she jumped around, trying to catch them.
You even sent a video to Kohaku, who still had yet to see the images from earlier. He must be pretty preoccupied if he couldn't look at them yet. Hopefully, he answers when you put her to bed; it would be good if he showed consistency.
"Alright, Simat. It's bath time. Put your toys away, okay?" She nods, following your orders until the living room is clean again, and shuffles towards the bathroom, where you have already filled the tub with warm water and more soapy bubbles.
Simat's hair texture and scalp didn't seem to need to be washed every day, though you'll scrub it again just for tonight, but this time with products that align with her hair type. All clean, you took her out and gave her a robe her size before traveling to the bedroom, where you pulled out a matching set of kitty pajamas.
She changed while you cleaned up the bathroom and wiped water that fell out of the bath. When you checked the time, it had just hit eight p.m. At her age, she shouldn't go to sleep any later than nine, so you ushered her to her bed in the living room.
It now looked more like it belonged to a child with her seven stuffed animals and pink fluffy blanket. "Simat, it's bedtime. Come lay down, and I'll try to call your father." You tell her, and she comes over to hop on the mattress and snuggle beneath the covers.
Taking a deep breath, you called and hoped he answered for the sake of his daughter. However, it seems your prayers fell on deaf ears as it continued to ring and ring before ending when the call dropped. You tried again, and still, you received no response; it was just the automatic voicemail coming up.
Now, you have to be the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry, Simat-" Kohaku's number pops up on the screen, and you breathe a sigh of relief. "About time you answer!"
He laughs on the line as you hear the sound of cracking and buzzing fading off in the distance. "Sorry, sorry, please don't rip my head off! I said I would try to answer, but I get even busier at night."
"Doing what?" You challenge only to receive an awkward chuckle in response. Sighing, you lean back against the bed and speak. "Whatever, I don't wanna know. I'm going to hand over the phone to Simat." Without waiting for an answer, you give your phone to the girl, who holds it close with both hands.
Geez, it looks so cute, arrow to the heart!
While the two 'talked, ' you got up and went to your room to grab a change of clothes and hair products for afterward. He seemed to be talking a lot, so you took a seat in your office and checked over your work emails.
It appears everything has been running smoothly while you've been off. This is not a surprise, considering most get their act together for a holiday bonus at the office during the holidays. Less work meant less stress and less stress meant happier days and more off time.
There's a soft knock on your door frame, and you look up to see Simat in the doorway with your phone in her hand. "Oh, are you done speaking with Daddy?" She nods and comes closer to hand over your phone. "Okay, go lay down, and I'll be there to tuck you in."
You wait for her to be out of sight before raising your phone and asking, "Hello?"
"Hey, it seems like you two had a good day."
"Yeah, did you get a chance to look at the pictures and stuff I sent?" You ask and lean back in your swivel chair.
"I did!" He responds with a slight laugh. There's a flicking sound, something you recognized as the flicking open of a zippo lighter. "I saw you cut and did her hair; it looks really good. Also, she looked so cute in the Christmas dress. Try to have her wear that during the holiday."
A smile plays on your lips while you shake your head. "She looked so cute in everything else, too. It seemed like she really liked clothes with cat or dog ears that she could play with. For Christmas, you should get her some Legos, probably a medieval castle with a dragon. She seems fascinated with dragons and wolves."
"I love that. She's creative!"
You hate the way you can practically hear and see his smile from his voice. It brings about that nostalgia and deep yearning you've been pushing down. "Do you want to hear about our day?"
"Of course, I'm surprised you even asked."
B*stard, you wish he was just an asshole so you didn't feel this way. But right now, all you can do is keep it in the back of your head, as this is not permanent. In a few months, both of them will gone, and you'll never see them again.
So, you told him everything about the day, starting with breakfast and the little things you noticed all the way down to her snuggling up in bed and eagerly awaiting to hear from her father. You wanted him to know everything that you've observed so it would be easier for him to understand and take care of her.
Switching dominant guardians would probably be stressful, but hopefully, it'll be easy for her to assimilate to the change.
"And that's everything. I'm off tomorrow and the next day, so if you're going to come over, give me a heads-up so I can make food or something." You murmur while playing with the ends of your hair.
"I got sh*t to do tomorrow, but the next day, I'll definitely come by. It will probably be later in the afternoon, so have some mochi crunch ready for me to pound."
"For real?" You question while rising from your seat. "You're going to bloat up eating all that soy. Do you really want to scare your daughter by turning into a mush monster?"
He gasps on the line and murmurs something in Japanese that you cannot hear. "First of all, you need not to be so judgmental, you judgmental b*tch. People get canceled over things like that. Second of all, I ain't hearing sh*t from you, who eats like two bags of hot Cheetos a week."
After all these years, he can still joke like it were just the two of you again, sitting at the small theater and making a fool himself. It makes sense; everyone always wanted to be his friend with his high charisma and colorful humor.
It makes sense why he couldn't be yours forever. A man like that belongs to others, not to a small-town girl like you. "Whatever. I need to take a shower, so I'm hanging up now. Just be aware I'll be calling you every night at eight because I don't want her going to bed too late."
"Got it—good night (Y/n). And thanks again for taking care of her. You've always been good at taking care of other people. I just know you're going to fill her with every bit of love and joy you bring. People have always liked coming to you to feel better."
There's that warmth again in your belly, that little sting that both hurts and feels good. You both want him to get out of your life and stay.
"Goodnight." Is all you could muster before ending the call and exhaling a deep breath. For now, you don't want to think about him anymore. "Did I take too long?" You ask the little Oni as you come over to the couch.
She shook her head sluggishly, proving her point wrong as she struggled to stay awake. With a small smile, you tuck her in and lay her stuffies by her side as she snuggles the Orc one. "Goodnight, Simat. Sweet dreams. I'll come wake you in the morning, and we'll have some bacon and eggs, okay?"
Simat doesn't nod this time; however, you do see the faintest smile on her lips when the TV screen flashes brightly.
Arrow to the heart!
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
The following day, you two stayed in your robes and ate breakfast together before lying in her bed together. With the rain wreaking havoc on the outside, you both decided to stay in and pass the day on.
She seemed to want to watch the Dragon Ball movies, so you had a marathon all day with candies and fruits in the living room. Of course, you made sure to fill her in on the lore since there was so much that happened throughout the series that she was not aware of.
When there are things that catch her interest, she becomes consumed by them, having to indulge in all forms of content before letting it go. It kind of reminds you of yourself and your unhealthy obsession with certain books when you were younger—some of the worst and best times of your life.
For lunch, you had hot dogs and chips before watching some more, and for dinner, it consisted of smoked pork and green beans. The cycle repeated as you played a little bit longer before she showered and lay down to talk to her father.
This time, he thankfully answered on the first ring, and two could talk. When they were done, she handed the phone right back to you, only for Kohaku to ask how your day was again. You both spoke for a little bit before you ended the call and tucked Simat in.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
It was the day when your ex-boyfriend would be coming over, and you couldn't stop the anxiety you were feeling...nor the excitement of seeing him. So wrong; it was wrong for you to feel like for another man while you were in a relationship.
But it's fleeting, it should be.
Today, you both ate some cereal and changed into different clothes. It was not raining, but heavy gloomy clouds remained, so you decided to take Simat out to an arcade. Her blue and green eyes had sparked in the flashing lights of the game room, and you could for once see her excitement.
Whatever she wanted to play, she got it, and when you played air hockey with her, she just kept beating you. It made no sense; you used to be the undefeated champion?! Even Kohaku fell to your power; it was absolutely unbelievable.
She ate your a** up in almost every other competitive game; at some point, you just had to let her go off and play the games herself. Eventually, it was a little past one, and you wanted to be back before her father arrived, so you brought her to the reward section and let her get whatever she wanted.
An arrow stuck you in the heart when she bought matching mood rings and gave you one.
The drive back was peaceful, and when you arrived at your apartment, you were surprised to see Kohaku leaning against your door as he scrolled on his phone.
"Hey, you pig." You call out and start approaching him. "I thought I said to give me a heads-up. It's gonna make me look suspicious if some emo creep hangs around my front door."
Kokahu fakes an injury as he holds a hand to his heart and swings a plastic bag by his side. "I'm hurt. How can you get even prettier but meaner as the time goes by." He whines. "I even brought you your favorite dessert from the bakery back home, and this is how you treat me?"
Damn, now you feel like sh*t and bashful from his compliment. His stupid a** continues to be such a smooth talker, and he doesn't even realize the effects they are having on you.
"Whatever." You mumble and enter your password, making sure to cover it from prying eyes before opening the door and letting everyone in.
Simat heads in first and goes straight to her bed, where she tries to grab all her stuffies and brings them over to her dad to see. "Wow, what is all this?" He exclaims and kneels, only for her to shove them into his arms.
"I told you, she has an obsession with dragons and wolves." You respond while placing her arcade bag down on the coffee table.
"Did they not have any Oni stuffies?" he asks, coming closer so he can collapse on the couch bed.
You turned to him with an expression as though you couldn't believe the dense sh*t that came out of his mouth. "Are you dumb? Have you seen the Oni stuffies they sell? It'll give her nightmares!"
Kohaku only mocks you, clicking his tongue and smacking his lips as he looks away.
"Simat, why don't you take out your bubbles, and your daddy can set up the automatic one?" She nodded enthusiastically before removing the ottoman's top and all her bubble toys and devices.
With those two busy, you get out the snacks and make them a tray, placing them down on the nightstand before returning to the kitchen to start dinner.
The two seemed to get along; it was easy for Kohaku to get along with anyone. He was also the one the kids always liked, no matter their sass or attitude.
Simat is in good hands; she probably won the game by getting him as her father. He'd honestly spoil her so rotten that you're going to have to instill gratefulness into her so she doesn't get a nasty attitude later on.
For today's menu, there were buttered noodles and shrimp with a side of fresh Cezar salad. Wait...you don't know if Simat likes seafood or is allergic to it. "Hey, Kohaku."
The man hums before you hear him shift and make his way over. "What is it?" When you look up, you have to stop yourself from audibly gasping. He took off his leather jacket and shirt, leaving him in a black tank top and jeans.
His arms have grown to a much larger and sculpted shape, not to mention the wiggly veins that protrude against his pale skin. He's always been fit and attractive, but he seemed to have gone through a second growth spurt, and he exerts masculinity right in front of you.
"Uh. What was I saying..." You state out loud before shaking your head and returning your gaze to the pot. "Oh, right. Did her mom say anything about allergies, like seafood? I'm making butter noodles with shrimp, but I don't know if she's allergic."
He shakes his head while stepping forward and leaning over the pot. "No, not from what I'm aware. And I've got to say, I really missed your cooking. My dad still nags me about getting some beef stew that he had last time all those years ago."
Your heart skips a beat, and blood rushes to your face as you focus on cleaning the shrimp. "Well, nothing beats a home-cooked meal, and your dad could never cook for sh*t." A laugh rings out from your lips from just the memory.
Staying over at his dad's place on the farm always resulted in you and Kohaku secretly feeding the dogs whatever his father made. It was nearly unedible that only an animal could genuinely eat. Because of that, you'd go up to his room later and snack on all the treats you hid in the mini-fridge.
The thoughts bring about nostalgia, but you quickly push it away when you feel that bubbling pressure in your chest.
What the hell? Why do you want to cry? Why do you still care? Why doesn't he care like you do?
"Anyway, uh, that's all I had to ask. You can go back to playing with her." You mumbled and waved one of your dirty hands at the exit of the kitchen.
"You sure?" Kohaku inquires while taking a step forward. "I can help, you know."
Why does he have to be so nice!? No one told him he had to be so considerate; no one told him he had to make up for obliterating your heart. "No, Kohaku. I already said you can go back. You didn't come here to hang out with me, so don't waste your time." You didn't mean for attitude to spill from your lips, yet the building anger at yourself was unleashed on him.
He doesn't say anything, but you can feel his gaze following your movement as you take the tray of shrimp to the sink to clean. No way could you face him at this moment; the embarrassment mortified you, and it would literally kill you to see him giving you a pitiful expression.
How pathetic it must be when he can see that you still care so much about him.
"Just give me a holler if you need anything." He responds after a moment of silence, and you only hum back.
His footsteps fade, and only once you hear his voice faintly from the living room do you allow yourself to turn and face the spot he was standing in.
Dammit, he fell out of love while you never left.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
"Alright, everyone, wash your hands and come to the dinner table!" You inform them while plating their dishes in your fancy bowls.
Kohaku says something before you hear little fit pitter-patter against the wooden floors as though she were running. He's quick to follow behind, laughing slightly until you hear him praise her as they reach the bathroom.
Carrying their food, you place them down on the table and return to pour them glasses of water. This feeling of domestication riddles through your brain, igniting flares of satisfaction from within. You've always been a giver and a provider, and doing exactly so scratches a burning itch.
"Look at this!" Kohaku exclaims while entering the dining room, carrying Simat on his hip. "No one cooks as good as (Y/n). I swear, you are so lucky you get to her food every day." While he speaks, he reaches over to pinch her little chubby cheeks.
"You're a grown man. You can make your own food." You murmur as you leave to place the pitcher of water back in the fridge.
"What a killjoy!" He shouts before saying something inaudible to his daughter.
Now that everything is ready, you grab your own bowls of food and return to eat with them. As you approach, you hear his usual 'itadakimasu' and almost trip over your own feet. In that moment, you could practically be transferred right back into the past.
This is eating you up alive... You're not going to be able to last before you die again of a broken heart.
It took you a moment and a few deep breaths until you could return and settle down. By then, he was already halfway through his food, chowing down like a pig, with his heterochromatic eyes twinkling in enjoyment.
He suddenly burps loudly and apologizes before turning to face his daughter and pointing his chopsticks at her. "Why aren't you eating? Do you not like it?"
"She does this often," you say, your attention on your bowl as you prepare your own pair and start collecting the noodles. "She only starts eating after I take the first bite."
Kohaku's gaze settles on your body, but you don't say anything anymore before taking a bite and chewing. Now, Simat follows and splits her chopsticks before eating, too.
"You're cute, Simat." The older Oni states as he reaches over to swipe a small piece of garlic from her face.
The girl blinks, almost looking stunned, even if her expression remains neutral, and it breaks a smile on your face. "She is, very much so."
Nothing more is said as everyone continues to eat. Kohaku went back for seconds and made an even bigger bowl than what you made initially, but you're not going to complain. It's better he eats it all than letting it rot in the fridge before you throw it out.
A sudden ringing from your room grabs your attention, and you realize you are getting a phone call. "Oh, I'll be right back," you murmur and shift to get up and make your way down the hall.
However, your eyes nearly widen when you realize it is Rafe calling. "Shit." You had been so preoccupied with Simat that you hadn't been in contact with him at all this whole time.
"Hello?" You answered and quietly shut your door for privacy.
"Hello? Hello!? Babe, how can you not talk to me for two days straight? Not even just a quick text goodnight or good morning!?"
He had every right to be mad because it took minimal effort to stay in contact and let him know you were still alive. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just been so busy, you know-"
"With what!?" He snaps, and you nearly recoil from his blaring tone. "You don't work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, so what the hell have you been doing?
There's a lump in your throat that nearly chokes you dead. "First of all, watch your tone when you talk to me. I already apologized for not staying in contact. Second of all, if I'm busy, then I'm busy. It's the holiday, I still haven't bought any presents, and I still need to help management prepare for the office party. Just because it was my off days doesn't mean I hadn't work to do." Straight lying through your teeth, you swear you could have been struck down for such a vice.
Though you weren't wrong, there were still things you needed to do...you just haven't gotten to them yet.
"And that warranted not even a text? You know what, I'm coming over. We need to talk face to face." Your breath hitches, and alarmed 'no!' comes from your lips without your will.
"I-I'm not going to see you when you're pissed off. You know you say things you don't mean when you're angry, and I'm going to take that right now. I'm really sorry for not keeping in contact, and I'll do better. I'm in the middle of eating, so don't talk to me until you've calmed down and thought thoroughly about what you want to say."
You don't wait for him to respond and hang up. A sigh expells deep from within your lungs as you collapse on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Rafe was not entirely in the wrong; you could have done better. It does make you feel awful keeping this from him; you've never been one to carry such big secrets.
If he were just more understanding, you could let him in, and he could even help if he really wanted. But if you think about it, if one of his ex-girlfriends dropped off their kid, who wasn't even related to Rafe, and told him to care for them, you don't know how you'd feel.
"Ugh!" You're an awful person; everything you've been doing is just reinforcing that. You're in a relationship, yet you're letting these past feelings for an ex affect you! It's not right; it was never right.
You should have slammed that door in his face the minute you saw him. You should have left him alone to deal with his own responsibility. You should have gotten rid of these feelings a long time ago before moving on and getting with a different person.
But you thought you had. You spent years working on yourself and your career, getting to the point where you didn't need a man in your life to be there for you. In the time being, you went on a few dates here and there, but when you really felt ready, you settled down with Rafe.
No more, you don't even want to think of this anymore. For now, you just need to handle this. It's only a month or two more, and then they're both gone.
At this point, your stomach is queasy from the mess inside your head, and you're no longer hungry. You return only to grab your bowls and dump the remaining food. Simat was still finishing what little remained, so you began washing the dishes and attempting to busy yourself.
Work starts tomorrow, and you have to go in early. Once you finish this, you'll have to call the nursery school or a pre-k so they can watch Simat while you are at work. You'll have to explain some circumstances, but overall, most daycare workers are understanding and accommodating, so you shouldn't have much to worry about.
Hopefully, Simat will be okay. It's probably too early for her to make friends when she's still opening up to you and her father. However, the environment would most likely do her some good, and she can see how children her age act with one another.
"Thank you for the meal!" Kohaku beams as he steps into the kitchen to hand you their empty dishes.
You only hum in response and continue what you are doing. The Oni sighs, and in your peripheral, you see him lean against the counter. "Is everything okay? You've been kind off since-"
"Since what?" You interject and finally turn your head to meet his beautiful gaze. "I'm busy taking care of your responsibility and trying to make sure your daughter gets everything she needs while you're off doing god(s) knows what." He didn't deserve your anger; all that is happening is your own Karma. Nevertheless, you just need him to stop this good guy act at this point. Receiving his kindness just makes it harder to move on.
A pathetic laugh makes its way from your lips as you shake your head. "Honestly, you show up at my door in the middle of the night after no contact for six years just to drop off a kid from the relationship you left me for. How ironic is that?" Another laugh echoes out from the sheer audacity. "It's so ludicrous that I can't even believe I let you just walk all over me like that. Am I just a joke to you?"
"What!?" He exclaims and shakes his head while standing straight up. "Of course not. I-"
"Not a joke, yet you treated our relationship the way you did once you went to college?" Your interjection silences whatever words are on his lips as he looks away to bite his lips.
Shutting off the water, you begin drying your hands on a dish towel and keeping your gaze away. "It's whatever. You fell out of love, right? I wasn't what you wanted, and that's just the way life is. But I will never forget the feeling of not being enough. And you're only making it worse by pitying me and trying to make up for how you did me so dirty."
Finally, you turn and face him, standing right in front of him and craning your neck to stare into his beautiful eyes. "I'm your ex. You're my ex. You're not obligated to do anything for me."
"I just... can't." He murmurs with a frown. "Before we were even in a relationship, we were best friends."
With a scornful laugh, you find yourself at your limit. Shaking your head, you step past him, only stop midway and turn back. "We're not friends now and will never be again. Get that through your head."
You don't let him say anymore, leaving him in his spot as you make your way to your office and shut the door.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
You stayed in your office working on backed-up drafts and clearing fallen deals for the rest of the night. The two continued to play for a while until you got up, only to open the door and yell down the hall that he needed to bathe her.
He's a grown man; he should know how to bathe his own daughter so you can just leave them be. While you worked, they seemed to spend a long time in there before you heard their feet padding across the floor back towards the living room.
You're not sure how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door that spurred you to jump in surprise. Sighing, you mumbled a 'come in' or something along those lines as you resumed reading the documents on your screen.
The door parts slowly, and from your peripheral, you see Kohaku sticking his head in as he takes in the appearance of that room. "I just put Simat to bed, so I'm gonna get going."
"Okay. You can show yourself." You reply without giving him your full attention.
He remains still as though there is still something left on his tongue. And you were right as you heard him take a deep breath and open his mouth. "I'm sorry-"
"F*ckin A." You sneer and snap your head to face him. "Is that all you know what to say? Your head f*ckin broken? Can't come up with anything other than useless, thoughtless apologies? Just shut up and leave."
Those words hit the nail on the head as he suddenly nods his head and runs a hand through his black and white hair. "...You're right." That is all he says as he turns and begins walking away.
You sit stagnant, listening to his fading footsteps before the front door opens and shuts quickly with a faint click.
Alone, you finally break down, and a sob stuck in your throat finally pours out in strained waves.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
The following day, you got ready for work and made breakfast for the both of you. While dressing her up for the day and packing her bag with snacks and her toys, you explained what was going on. She seemed to understand, but you made sure to tell her everything about how the day was going to go.
With a nice drive, you took her to the daycare and talked with the lady there a little bit to remind them of Simat's unique qualities. She seemed genuine, so you gave the little Oni a big hug and told her to be a good girl before leaving for work.
Everything was normal; it went by with the usual minor annoyances here and picking up the slack of your department. Half of them usually get so lazy during the holidays, and the other half works their finger to the bone to get that second Christmas bonus.
As you busied yourself, you couldn't help the little anxiety in your heart. You worried about Simat and hoped she was doing well. If anything happened to her, you would go off; it doesn't matter if they're just kids. There is this intense desire to protect her even though she is not yours. It's surprising how easily you grew attached to her, but then again, she is just a little girl.
Honestly, you couldn't wait to pick her up, but of course, someone messed up an insurance deal, and you had to stay behind to fix it. You're the unit supervisor; this should be designated to someone else, but they're all incompetent.
Once you finished it, you were out the door. People were trying to talk to you, yet you ignored them as you rushed to your car and sped towards the nursery. You were at least an hour later than what you promised, and I hope she was not resentful.
When you arrived, you threw the car in park at the front and rushed to get inside. Glancing around, you tried to find Simat, but she was nowhere to be seen.
"Ms. (L/n)?"
Your head whipped around to see the worker from earlier. "Hello! I'm sorry I'm late. I was pushed into overtime." Words spill out of your mouth as you attempt to calm yourself.
The young lady only nods in an understanding manner. "It's no worries; most parents usually end up working later than expected. Follow me. Simat's been waiting eagerly for you." She expresses and waves an arm in an indication to follow her.
Leading over to another space, you see it's a small room with desk put together where some kids are coloring. In the corner, Simat sat by herself with her head down as she played with her Orc doll. Even though her face always remained in the usual neutral expression, her sagging shoulders and low gaze felt close to melancholy.
Quietly, with soft steps, you strode up to her from behind before kneeling carefully in your work skirt. "What are you playing?" As soon as she hears your voice, her entire body perks up. Her head snaps in your direction with a slight glimmer of tears glossing over in her colorful iris'.
Unexpectedly, her little hands drop her favorite doll to reach forward and grasp the front of your button-up and conceal her face in your chest. You hadn't expected such a reaction, nor did you think she'd display an expressive depiction of emotion. "Simmy, did you think I abandoned you?" She nods after a moment of hesitation, which strikes you right in the heart.
Softly grasping her shoulders, you pull her back so you can look into those icy blue and line green eyes. Tears are staining her tan cheeks, which you wipe away softly. "I would never. I have you, and you have me. I'm not going anywhere. Now, let's go home and make something to eat, okay?"
Rubbing her tiny fist against her eyes, she takes a deep breath, nods, and turns back to grab her pink bag and doll before returning to you. She even holds your hand without you asking, squeezing tightly as though she were afraid you'd slip away.
How are you going to be able to let her go when the time comes?
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Through a consistent cycle, you continue to care for Simat, with her father calling every night before she goes to bed. Every two days, he shows up to see her while you maintain your distance. Sometimes, he takes her out to the arcade or ice skating, which you know does wonders for her development.
You can see the evolution of her opening up and expressing herself without constraint. She conveys her dislikes more without fear and actively does her own thing without having to be told to. You didn't think you could be so proud of a child that was not yours, but here you are.
Still, she has yet to speak, which had you severely worried, but the daycare tried to explain some situations to you. From Sim's early childhood, she went through a lot of neglect and stress, which probably formed a health condition called SM, Selective Mutism. It's an anxiety disorder that were affecting her verbal ability to communicate in regular or social situations.
There were many paths you could take to help her: mental health therapy, speech therapy, or even medication if it comes down to it. At her age, you'd really like to stay away from medicating her, so it will only be acknowledged in a desperate need.
For now, you and Kohaku agreed to continue what you have been doing and assimilate her into a healthy dynamic. After a few months, she'll go back with him, and then he'll take his daughter to get her recommendations for mental health and speech therapy. As much as you'd like to give her the proper treatment now, it would be best for her to participate in it when she can be in a more permanent environment.
This is only temporary, but the effects you have on her, as well as the effects she has on you, will become permanent.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
November passed, and most of December did before it finally became Christmas Eve. You had your work party, and luckily, it was on the day Kohaku came over. And because it was the holiday, he agreed to sleep over for Christmas.
Currently, the two were outside playing in the snow. You can see them from your window as you peek to check up on them.
Three snowmen are built: a little one, another slightly bigger, and a humongous one. The small one has the oversized pink sweater she wore when she first showed up. The middle one has a giant smile and a huge heart drawn over the middle. The biggest one was wearing Kohaku's leather jacket, which slightly sagged on its stick arms.
Snow continued to fall and build up in the yard; you could practically hear the crunch of it beneath their feet. Simat suddenly fell back, staring up at the clouded grey sky that began to grow dark with the passing of the afternoon. You can see her breath in the air, the cold whisp drifting as she breathed out.
Kohaku smiled as he came over to pat her face and collapse next to her lightly. He said something you couldn't hear before moving his arms and legs, which his daughter mimicked. They both stood up together and took a step back to look over the snow angels they made.
Someday, you'd like to be down there and play along as the cold numbs the tips of your fingers and burns the surface of your face. But your place isn't by their side, and very slowly, you are coming around to accept.
You're almost done getting ready for the party, finished with your hair and makeup, and are now just waiting for Rafe to come pick you up, as he is your plus one. Leaving your spot from the window, you make your way to the kitchen, where you fill a kettle with water and place it on the burner.
Checking the oven, dinner is almost done; it should be ready a little after you depart. You're not worried about leaving the two alone while you're out; they'll be fine. After all, you're not part of their family.
The front door clicks and unlocks as you hear the sound of Kohaku's voice. Then the kettle started screaming, steam spewing out of the spout in rapid waves. Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, you shake the hot chocolate packets first before pouring a little milk and then the boiling water.
A cacophony of sounds blares from the TV, as it sounds like they resumed their Christmas movie from earlier. Your phone from the bathroom starts to ring, so you quickly place spoons in the mugs and bring them over to the two. "Here," you mumble, placing them down on the coffee table before wiping your hands on the sides of your pants and vacating down the hall.
Answering the phone with a hello, you hear Rafe's voice on the other line. "Hey, I'm about five minutes away. Should I park downstairs or in the front?"
"In the front. I just have to put on my dress." You respond while entering your bedroom. "Love you, be safe."
"Of course, love you too."
The dress for the occasion was a red satin dress, strapless, with a tight-fitting corset that snatched in your waist. You wore a pair of mesh sleeves that reached your upper bicep with white fluff around the band. With a slit on the right side, it was slightly provocative but appealing to show the shape of your leg. Because of its wide flair and slightly long train, you needed to wear a pair of high heels.
To be honest, you felt overdressed, but there are not many events that you go to where you can really dress up and make yourself feel like a pretty princess. Dress on, makeup set, and hair done; the only thing that is left is to grab your matching clutch purse and your keys.
"Alright, I'm going. Try not to stay up too late or burn my place down." At the sound of your approaching voice, Kohaku and Simat turned their heads from the movie to face you. Simmy's eyes twinkled, gleaming in the light as she sat up straighter.
"Wow, gorgeous as ever." The older Oni praised and rested his head against his fist with a smile that showed off his fangs. "Is this prom? Do I need to walk you out to your date and make sure he brings you home at an appropriate time?
Your jaw clenches, and it takes everything in you to eat the words that nearly spewed from your lips unapologetically. It's so funny how he mentions prom when he gave you that promise ring and made a vow to marry you when things settled.
How naive you were to believe it all.
Instead of replying, you step forward to kiss Simmy's forehead and tell her goodbye before leaving and locking the door with the passcode and fingerprint.
You take your time going to the elevator and traveling down, and right as you arrive at the lobby, you see Rafe's vehicle pull up.
When you got in, Rafe did a double take. He smiled and leaned back in his seat. "Who are you dressing to impress?"
"Can't I just dress up for myself?" You inquire with a teasing smile. "I practically planned the entire party myself; I deserve to enjoy it. '
With a nod of his head, your boyfriend placed a hand on your thigh and began to drive towards the office.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
At a party, regardless of whether it's work-related or not, there's obviously going to be alcohol. You tried to stay away, but it teased you with its fuzzy taste and mind-numbing burn. A lot is going on in your life, including a lot of pain and inner turmoil that you have no outlet for.
The source of it dwindles in your home, marking everything with their presence. The bed smells of her, and the air reeks of his cologne. Her hair products lay about in the bathroom; his clothes hide in the closet, obscured but there.
Their shoes sit right there by the door; muddy snow melted on wooden floors. When they leave, getting rid of everything that belonged to them doesn't remove the memories engraved in that place.
Really, what did you do to deserve this pain? Hadn't you suffered enough?
Your head is dizzy; your coordination is off, as though you were out at sea. Everyone at the party was enjoying themselves, with faces red and flushed or lighter and hot. Rafe is somewhere, off in some corner, gambling while playing pool.
Everything tastes the same: the champagne you downed and the water you sipped—it all tastes like bitter resentment.
"Shouldn't the supervisor who planned the party be enjoying it?" You're barely able to turn your head to see one of your co-workers and fellow supervisor approaching.
He was at least a decade older than you, with age lines slightly forming around his slim nose. His hair was dark and slicked back, a single stray over his forehead that contrasted against the bright lights of his blue eyes. While others wore ugly Christmas sweaters, Reno refused to wear anything other than his tailored black suit and red satin tie.
"I'm enjoying it." You hold in a burp and swallow it down. "Don't you see all my drinks?" With gestures at the table, the focus is on the multiple cocktail glasses and stacked shot glasses.
Reno pushed his thin glasses higher up his nose while stepping on the footrest and lifting himself to sit in the high bar chair. "That many drinks are a prescription for a broken heart, supervisor."
You scowl, twisting your face into a scornful expression. "What you know about a broken heart? You married your high school sweetheart." The words burn worse than whiskey down the throat. "Both of you went to prep school in this big a** city but still married each other." Your pettiness comes forward in full sight as your grip grows tighter on your half-drunken glass. "I hate you and your happy little relationship. Get out of my face."
Unit one's supervisor laughs in the throat, his gaze shifting to the window. Even this late at night, the city doesn't sleep. Lights blare and flash, horns blare and whine, and people still walk out, even with the snow amassing on the sidewalk. "Everyone is lucky you're a professional, and do not let your emotions affect your work performance." His response sounded so bureaucratic that it only worsened your mood.
"You are literally the worst person to talk about relationship problems with. I need someone from the streets." Your drunken blunder earns a faint chuckle as the older man reaches for a drink.
He swirled the burgundy liquid around in the Pinot Noir-shaped glass before shifting to face you. "Whether it is someone with expressive slang or not, we'd presumably provide the same advice." With a reserved sip, he drank from his wine with poise. "Whatever troubles you, the most responsible thing is to confront it head-on. Do not dwell in it, do not prolong it, do not tell yourself that if you just wait it out, things will get better."
Vibrations from the holiday music rumble beneath your chair, tingling your toes alongside the alcohol buzzing in your veins. How comical it was when he knew nothing of what you were experiencing but nearly hit the mark.
His simple words somewhat calmed your mind, even managing to get you to sit up and release the glass you had been nursing. "Was Cora your first love?"
Reno licked his lip slightly before setting down his drink. "Actually, no. I had only engaged with my wife a few years after my first love and I became estranged."
That surprised you as everyone always thought Cora was his first love, considering their dedication to each other. "Do you still think of your first love?"
"Ah, I see where this is going." The supervisor declared with a knowing grin. "I will recount my feelings; however, there is a likelihood that you will hear remarks that do more harm than good." You just wave off his concerns and usher him to continue. With a sigh, he glanced down at his left hand and twiddled with the wedding ring.
"Experiencing your first love is something that no one prepares you for. They do not tell you about the overwhelming emotions or passionate romanticization of every little thing. There is no time to ready your hearts that become utterly consumed by one another. I experienced that firsthand with a young woman at prep named Wilhelmina. A lovely girl connected with a duke in Europe, but even without the knowledge of knowing she harbored royal blood, it would not be far-fetched to think she was a princess. Everything about her was dignified, married with elegance and grace. Many men competed for her hand, and of course, I was one among them."
You laugh and drunkenly shake your head. "Why am I not surprised that you had relationships with an actual princess? You truly are a man from a different social class than me."
"Yet we both partake in the same profession," He praises with a raise of his wine glass. "As I was saying, I was attracted to her physical appearance, yes. She was a gorgeous woman; even to this day, many could not even compare. Regardless, her brilliance and compassion outshined all. She was a woman who was all-consuming, and I mean that in the best possible way. Mina treasured knowledge and fell into deep fixation when researching or reading. I was particularly fond of her many tirades when she denounced any bias encountered in educational texts. Very passionate, I must add."
You narrow your eyes and pucker your lips. "This is all sounding too rich for me. Get to the part where she broke your heart."
Reno scrunched his nose. "I suppose you only have forbearance during work hours."
"I'm drunk and suffering. What do you expect from me?" You remark, which yields a hum from the older man.
"Touché, demoiselle. Alright, to the crucial details. Together, our relationship was fiery and passionate. And when I look back at it, I realize it was significantly unhealthy. We became each other's will to live. Life devolved into a diminutive, secluded bubble that others could not penetrate. Every waking moment, we were together, sharing and experiencing the first of certain situations with the other. Many nights, we spoke of what our future would be like, and at the time, neither one of us could fathom a separation. We planned to marry after graduation and move to the Netherlands, where we would live a simple life with a child or two and grow old together. It was idealistic and hopelessly romantic, but to this day, I will never be able to forget that devotion. Nothing I have experienced at this age has even compared. However, it was that strong passion that ended our relationship."
"What...?" You expel with a harsh gasp. "You broke up for what!?"
Reno smiled like a parent with a secret they won't tell you. "The connections we shared were strong, overpowering, but unforgettable. I loved her with everything I had to offer, and she reciprocated that fact, if not pouring even more than I did into our relationship. Perhaps that was when the fire of our devotion fizzled out for me while hers burned even brighter, hotter. Mentally, I struggled to maintain a rhythm at her pace and found myself overwhelmed by the fissures forming. No matter how fast I ran or how long I jogged, I couldn't arrive at the same destinations alongside her anymore. Things changed, feelings changed, and I knew that the responsible thing was to confront her and end the relationship."
Your mouth is dry as the tips of your fingers tingle. "F*ckin A, that's now what I expected. Hey!" You waved over attendance and snatched a shot from her tray before quickly downing it like water. "I wanted your heart shattered! I wanted your heart stepped on and kicked over and utterly obliterated. I hate you men who just fall out of love like it's nothing!" You attempt to grab another shot, but Reno grasps your wrist to stop any movement.
"Go on ahead." He informs the attendant, who quickly departed from your area. Alone, he lowers your wrist to the table and inhales a deep breath like he couldn't catch a break. "I never fell out of love with Wilhelmina. I still loved her, but what we had could not be maintained. I still love her passion; I still treasure her smile, and I still adore her covetousness for knowledge. I still love that woman, but not in the same manner as before. I was too immature to understand when and where to implement boundaries. I was too young to comprehend that a relationship should not be so obsessive. Wilhelmina and I had loved to live when we should have lived to love. It was not until I spent the years working on myself and maturing that I realized the validity of that statement. Engaging with Cora was not out of necessity or compulsion. I did not need to be with her always or see her constantly. I invited her out for excursions when I wanted to, when I was free. I did not need to ignore my duties and cast aside all responsibilities just because I could not handle being away from her for one second. We took things slow and at our own pace that people often thought we were not together. But it was good for us; we both gave fifty, fifty. Now we've been wedded for nearly fifteen years with not a single lingering issue."
You've never thought of it at that angle, only burning with wrath from your own overbearing emotions. Wilhelmina sounds just like you; you're relating on a personal level without ever meeting her. The fire of your devotion to Kohaku was so bright that it must have been blinding. It must have been all-consuming, burning away everything that made him who he was.
Now you understand. You were a flame, small at first, but with all that Kohaku poured into the relationship, into you, you grew into a blaze. You took his kindling without even knowing, consuming his fuel until he could no longer manage his own fire. While your flare evolved into an intense and raging inferno, Kohaku's had extinguished, smothered, with nothing but ashes remaining.
He did everything and gave you everything to such an extent that the inferno inside of you still burns to this day.
"I still think of her every once in a while." Reno's voice cuts through your thoughts as your eyes rise from the table. His head faced the window, staring back out at the snowy night sky. "We have remained in contact after all these years, providing updates here and there when we can. Of course, I do lament the way I shattered her heart at the time, but we both agreed that it was the best decision I could have made. Where we are in life currently is everything we could have wanted. It's a shame that such intense flames have become extinguished, but what we love now is a part of our lives, not our entire lives."
You can only stare at him, tears glossing over and a sting forming in the corner of your eyes. Perhaps this is precisely what you've needed to hear. After the breakup, you cried only once, letting everything out, then buried deep down in a cavern where everything was cold and frozen. You did not heal or express your pain to anyone. So, it formulated into resentment as the years went by, and you could no longer see it rationally, only emotionally.
For once, you see things clearly and understand what you must do.
"I guess I didn't need the streets to learn this lesson." You joke softly, attempting to lighten the mood so you do not wail audibly in front of your co-workers and bosses.
Reno reaches forward, his warm hands settling over your hands to stop tremors you didn't even know that you were experiencing. "You are a good woman, (Y/n). Whatever had transpired in the past is not anyone's fault. Things just worked out the way they did, and you should not blame yourself or your past partner. There doesn't need to be any more blame, just healing." His grip tightened the slightest when you breathed out a trembling exhale. "That man, Rafe(?) I can tell that you hold back with him. Do not try to pacify your flames, (Y/n). Either you share the burdens together or end it responsibly, but it is only advice. Do whatever you need to do."
Sharing a moment of silence, you both sat there while staring out the wall of windows. The flurries continued to collect on the ground, though it had yet to stop the traffic. Life went on, and life progressed.
"Now!" Reno had patted your hands before reaching over to his pants and removing his car keys. "Are you in need of a ride, or will you leave along with your date?"
You didn't answer at first, letting your gaze fall into the distance in the room where Rafe was located. He was enjoying himself, laughing and drinking. He was letting loose, finally releasing all the built-up stress you were causing to accumulate with your lies and hidden secrets.
"Could I trouble you, good sir, for a ride?" You tease with the first smile you've had all night.
Reno shared that grin and stood off his seat to offer his elbow while gesturing towards it. "No trouble at all, demoiselle." He remarks in the same joking manner.
Drunkenly, you wrap your arm around his elbow and allow him to guide you toward the elevator that leads down to the parking lot. Surprisingly, you were aware enough to text Rafe that you were leaving because you didn't feel good. He'd probably not take that too well and be angry with you in the morning, but it's better than nothing.
꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂
Your heels hang from your fingers as you shuffle down the hall. Your skin is hot, still burning from the alcohol, so the cool tiled floor alleviates some of that heat. Finally, you reach your door and have to rest your forehead against the wooden partition to steady your coordination.
When you input your code and fingerprint, the door buzzes slightly, and you attempt to enter as quietly as possible.
The TV is playing, but the volume is low. Not a single light is on but the nightlights and the illumination from Kohaku's phone screen.
At the sound of the door, he sat up from his position on the living room couch bed, and you could hear the sound of his footsteps against the laminated floor.
"You were out late." He teases. "Thought I was going to have to track you down and give your date a stern talking to."
You're still facing the door, you're still holding your shoes, you're still drunker than you've ever been. But it was enough for you to turn around to face him after gathering what little bearings you could muster.
He stands only a few feet away, shirtless, only in a pair of low-hanging Christmas pants that leave practically nothing to the imagination. The shape of his body was so manly, close to inhuman, with his muscles so profoundly shaped.
You are starting to understand what Reno meant by boundaries.
"I'm still in love with you."
Kohaku's heterochromia eyes widen, the whites largely visible as he stands stagnant in his spot. His expression from earlier had fallen, leaving his lips pursed tightly. Even his built chest and broad pectorals hadn't moved, as though you gripped his lungs and tore them out.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You slur with a heavy tongue and a slight tilt of your head. "I thought it was obvious."
He doesn't respond at first, either trying to collect his bearings or figure out the right words to say. "I-, you must have really drank a lot. You always said such nonsense when you had too much to drink." The Oni attempts to jest and laugh, but you do not share that giggle.
"There you go again, taking me for a joke again." Your murmur at that point was more to yourself as you dropped your shoes and stumbled your way to your bedroom.
Kohaku followed after a moment of hesitation, lingering in the doorway while you heaved yourself on your bed at the edge. No one says anything, just listening to the faint rumble of the TV.
"Tonight, I spoke to my co-worker..." You begin faintly. "He married his high school sweetheart, but not his first love." Your attention lingers on the window at the side of your room, staring out at the snowy weather. "I did not tell him what I was going through, but he offered advice that was exactly what I needed to hear. Before...I saw what happened to us as you just abandoning me, completely ditching me because you didn't love me anymore. It was more complex than that, wasn't it?"
Tears gloss over once again, but this time, you let them fall and smudge whatever makeup remained. "You still loved me; it just became too much. It must have been so exhausting to give your all every waking moment." Everything tastes bitter on your tongue. "I don't fully understand because I still have so much to give...I still had so much to offer. But you...I must have taken everything and still begged for more. I should have understood, but I was young, and immature, and passionately in love with the idea of love."
The guilt is so evident on his face it's sickening. If this were you just a few hours earlier, you'd probably snap and insult him, unable to bear with his pity.
"Why are you feeling bad? You made your decision, and you did what you did. It was for the best because if you stayed, we both would have gone up in flames."
Kohaku inhaled deeply while reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I just..." His gaze was anywhere else but your face. "I still loved you. I still couldn't forget you. You were...you were everything. What we had was unforgettable; most things can't even reciprocate the feelings I had with you." Everything mirrored Wilhelmina and Reno so closely that the irony spurred you to laugh.
Kohaku falls silent as you hold your belly with your arms crossed, hunching over and laughing with your eyes shut. It wasn't funny in a humorous way anymore. It wasn't even funny in a pathetic way, either.
Loving to live, obsessing over the idea of devotion, you were addicted to the unhealthy toxicity of it.
Finally, after a moment, you calmed down, only for your face to be soaked in tears and smudged across your skin. "I wish you had told me everything you felt instead of leaving me to my own thoughts and suspicions. My heart was bleeding and it never stopped."
"I'm...I'm sorry. I know you don't want-"
"It's fine." You interject and clear your throat. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to dump all this on you and make you feel bad. It wasn't to make you try and fix things by being with me out of pity. I've realized that I was stuck in our history, in love with the you from the past. The man you are today isn't the same person... I don't even know who you are anymore."
The Oni in front of you had parted his lips, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. Fangs poked out, glinting in the moonlight before he finally closed his mouth and swallowed strenuously.
Gingerly, he stepped forward and stopped right in front of your body. His large hands reached down, taking your gloved ones in his and squeezing. For a second, you let yourself immerse in the warmth of his inhumanity before pulling away and pushing his arms back towards himself.
"I had told you to maintain your distance because I could not handle being around you. Now I realize what we need to have: boundaries." Softly patting his hands, you urge him to let them drop by his side. "You cannot treat me like the (Y/n) from before. You cannot compliment me or praise me, or suck up to get what you want. You can't just walk around my place half-naked. In fact, you can't be here anymore while I work on myself. We are not friends; we can't be friends, at least right now... Can you do that?"
With a solemn nod, the Oni stepped back and shifted to leave the room, yet stopped midway through. His shoulders turned as he looked back to face you and spoke in a hushed voice that you almost missed.
"Will you at least let me do one more thing?"
You didn't expect him to ask such a question, so you sat silenced and stunned, your drunk brain buzzing with the remnants of a hangover peeking through. "S-Sure."
With your approval, Kohaku steps back to stand in front. He's in your bubble, invading it as his hands rise and softly hold the sides of your head. Then he dips down, letting his lips press against your forehead with a fleeting kiss that still lingered when he pulled away.
"Being with you was an unimaginable experience that I could never forget. You are amazing, just an incredible person. There is no one like you in this world, small town or big city." His voice is soft, precious as he speaks by your ear. "Take all the time you need, (Y/n). I can wait for the day until we can be friends again. Even if I have to wait a hundred years."
You cannot stop the burning hot tears from expelling past your lids and trading down your neck. The insides of your chest aches; it stings and tightens in your heart as though Kohaku reached forward and tore his way through.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
And I, oop, I wrote this in three days. It took longer than I expected because I didn't know where I was going with the idea. This also turned out longer and broken into 2 chapters bc as you know, I love writing realism. I want to showcase real emotions and it just wouldn't make sense for Kohaku to get with the reader at the end of this chapter when the whole time he didn't even share those feelings.
Of course, my heart is hurting bc DAYYUMM, I could never. Reader is better than me. I'd really be way too petty and once I feel wronged, you'll never be in my good gracious ever again.
Anyway, I wanted to try something new and write a love interest that isn't hopeless in love with the reader (*cough* Zagan *cough*). It just hurts so good, the angst rn. The next part is supposed to have a lot of character development and growth + as you know me, we get a little more gang affiliation bc I love bad boys.
Also Simat is a W and she will go off in the next chapter bc whoever hurts 'mommy' reader will get their throat torn out.
Might kill the reader, idk yet, still jotting it down.
Ps.
I just want to apologize also for being gone for so long without a single chapter update in like 6 months. I had completely lost all motivation after my wattpad, which I spent NINE years curating, was deleted in one night over nothing. It literally felt like all my hard work and recognition was just stolen and left me with nothing.
Of course, I have my quotev and Tumblr, which I am thankful for. Wattpad just had the most engagement and following, and it was easier to communicate with me. I just want so many people to read what I can do and enjoy the creativity of my storytelling.
↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile or here! Thank you :)
ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ꜱɪɢɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ
#The Devil May Lick Me#TDMLM#CREAMPIE-CAPITAL#oneshot#one shot#x reader#x y/n#monster x human#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster#female reader#mate#demon x y/n#demon x reader#demon oc#slight yandere#demon x human#monster x female#x female reader#oni x reader#oni x human#angst#monster x reader
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RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c
to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee
basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.
So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c
cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))
"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara
Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.
Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.
"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.
With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.
When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.
That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?
"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.
"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.
"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.
Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.
You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.
"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.
Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.
"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.
It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.
If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.
"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"
@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp
Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up
#chuuya'sheaven ♡#chuuya nakahara#chuuya nakahara smut#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs chuuya#bungo stray dogs smut#bsd smut#chuuya angst
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