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megamindsecretlair · 2 months ago

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Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘

A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.

Touch Me Like You Care

Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?

Word Count: 4,475k

AO3 Link

A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did.

After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting.

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.

The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.

You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone.

Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.

Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.

You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.

Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life.

You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail.

Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better.

He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips.

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin.

His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”

“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?”

“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked.

Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break.

On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.

Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.

“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher.

“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive.

“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh.

“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said.

“I really forgot this time,” you said.

Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.

“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said.

“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.

You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf.

He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.

You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice.

Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said.

“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective.

He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?”

“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them.

He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips.

He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed.

He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.

It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.

How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that.

“Baby,” you said and licked your lips.

Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of.

Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry.

Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level.

It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out.

“Keep reading,” he said.

You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.

Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly.

Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?”

You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said.

Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said.

“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm.

“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said.

“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan.

He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else.

“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer.

Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.”

You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers.

“You know what Daddy needs,” he said.

Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction.

“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them.

It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him.

He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.

“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel.

Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence.

You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him.

“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed.

Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other.

“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned.

“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves.

“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.

His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed.

Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged.

“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily.

“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.

Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked.

“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve.

Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”

Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him.

You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice.

Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.

“She too tired now?” He asked.

You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said.

Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.

You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride.

He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.

A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”

Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.

You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats.

“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled.

Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.”

You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more.

Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust.

“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence.

“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed.

“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.

You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him.

“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear.

“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”

Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts.

“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged.

Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things.

“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek.

“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered.

Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said.

He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned.

“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.

Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned.

Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent.

“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back.

“C-Can’t,” you stuttered.

Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you.

“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned.

Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder.

Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted. “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time.

“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped.

You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy.

You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching.

Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably.

“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?”

You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you.

There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.

Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck.

“Taste that?” He asked.

You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed.

“Sleepy,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.

WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: how did this get so big? I love ya'll!

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dolloie · 6 months ago

Text

princess treatment —riize

you once dreamed of being a princess so they treat you like one! : riize as act of service.

pairing riize x female reader. genre fluff, established relationship. warnings kissing, skinship, foods, not proof-read. lib

— osaki shotaro, having you as his passenger princess

listen, this man LOVE having you sit beside him with your favourite songs playing in the background.

he even has a whole playlist of your fav songs n his playlist for you </3

would take you on a late-night drive with him >:)

it's either he came unannounced or he will likely text you before.

if he didn't text you that night, you need to be prepared..

because he will show up in front of your door with a bouquet of flowers in his hand

and it'll be your favs too 😞😞

he also will drive you to the drive-thru of your fav restaurant!!

you're bored, hungry, sad? just text him 🤷🏻‍♀️

and he's coming right away!

not to mention the stargazing date with you.

he literally has the picnic mat in the backseat of his car.

trust me he have EVERYTHING prepared.

just for you fr 😝

— song eunseok, holding out a door for you

it's doesn't matter if your hands are full of not because when you look up

the door has already been opened WIDE for you

the car door, the restaurant door, the shops door.

literally every door.

even if you ask him to open the bathroom door for you, he will.

like he doesn't even hesitate 🙏🏻

you'll have his words when he said he will open every door for you.

he was ready the whole time.

making sure he walk before you so he could lead you to the door and open it for you!

mostly he will wrap his arm around your waist and lead you to the door,

while his other hand is pushing the door open.

sometimes he will even bow like a gentleman for a joke just to crack you up.

eunseok is just a silly guy </3

— jung sungchan, piggy back ride everytime you want

we all can see the vision, you don't tell me you don't 🤨

cause look at this man??

he's literally 186 cm and you don't see him as the act of service piggyback ride???

bffr girl... he's the typa man who would randomly pick you up.

you don't need to ask cause my man is willing to do anything for you.

he would be all giggly while spinning you around with a childish smile on his face.

he notices the way you walk slowly than usual then he would bend down in front of you.

without any word, he pats his back signaling you get on him.

like!!! where can you find another when he's like this 😞

he would hold your shoes while carrying you on his back.

he will tell you to rest your head on his shoulder.

secretly love when you play with his hair, rambling something to him.

chat, he's not listening at all..

your voice is too soothing for him to even pay attention.

— park wonbin, letting you wear his clothes

it's usually when you come over and stay over for a night.

he would offer you to wear his shirt if you don't bring any.

even if you bring he would insist you to wear his 😵‍💫

he loves seeing you in his clothes.

especially those big hoodies that makes you look small.

he will melt right away as soon as you walk out from his room wearing his shirts.

he love when you scent stay on his shirt.

he might not wash it (jk)

if you said that you're planning to stay for a night,

he will prepare his shirts for you.

so you don't need to bring yours!

sometimes he likes seeing you walk around his apartment while wearing his shirt,

especially when his members stay under the same roof as him.

it'll makes him think that he could show that you only belongs to him.

— hong seunghan, letting you wear his shoes when your feet hurts

he himself just screams out the act of service.

you knew going to an amusement park while wearing heels wasn't a very good idea.

especially with this hyper and suupeeerr curious boy.

he would drag them out of you to everywhere.

the rollercoaster, the merry-go-round, anything you name it.

but he would notice the discomfort displayed on your face.

like immediately.

"are you okay? do you wanna go home?" was the first thing he asked after seeing your expression.

he's asking like the world would end if you were not comfortable.

and of course you would tell him that it's okay.

doesn't take him so long to notice that your feet are actually hurting ( you stumbled a lot while walking )

he would stop in front of you and take off his shoes, telling you to wear it.

"are you gonna walk barefoot?" "we swap it" "it's not gonna fit you" "i don't care, as long as you're comfortable"

— lee sohee, singing you to sleep

we all know sohee has an angelic voice.

i could hear him singing and talking all day, nonstop.

and will never be tired 🙏🏻

he'll learn your favorite songs and sing it for you through the night.

sometimes it'll be a lullabies or slow song.

but that can't compete to his song.

he will LITERALLY wrote a song for YOU.

he has a whole album of a songs that he wrote.

all dedicated to you <3

in his songs,

you will hear the sound of you laughing, humming in the background.

he put every audio clips that he record when he's spending his time with you.

even a voice notes that you sent to him

like.. im so down bad

bonus:

the cover of the album would be your childhood photo or the photo of you and him

— lee chanyoung, holding your hand to warm you up

so i just thought the cutest aos for the cutest boy..

and this came up 🥹🥹

i think it suits him very well cause he's just a shy boy who wants to show his love to you!!

he will notice right away how your hands shiver slightly.

i see the vision where he's too shy to ask if he could hold your hand or not..

of course you'll let him cause who wouldn't 😴

glance at your hand and back to your face awkwardly.

took you a while to realize that he might want to hold your hand.

if you hold his hand for him, his cheeks will turn bright red immediately!!

however, if HE decides to make the first move..

he would quickly take your hand and put it in his pocket.

but if you expect him to look at you after the sudden action?

he wouldn't, 100% im so sure.

969 notes · View notes

poppy-metal · 5 months ago

Note

are we rocking with art stealing panties that you bled thru while on your period (i am on my period duh) and using them to jerk off because that’s we he can smell you the best from a distance… now that i mention it are we rocking with smell kink art?? it’s always smelly patrick (which i adore) but what about art who moans like a slut when YOU fucking smell like sweat and pussy and blood and sweet musk. who doesn’t let you shower or shave or anything before he eats your pussy, taking every salty morsel into his mouth. who forced your arm up by pinning your wrist down and sticks his face into your arm pit while fucking you from behind, curving his entire body into you so he can inhale your heady musk. god. you beg him to stop because it’s embarrassing (you don’t actually want him to, but you feel like you have to. for anyone to be this into any part of you is so intoxicating), but luckily he doesn’t listen, instead licks your arm pit and holds you harder and wider open as his cock drills deep inside your pussy, the smell of sex and sweat and musk permeation the room in a mingling haze

too gross??? maybe. i apologise. no i dont. i’m crazy but i am free

the divide of loving patrick when HES stinky and art loving when YOU'RE stinky..... yesssss.....

not to be tmi but you know how when you have a FAT JUICY pussy and its wet during the day and that white fluid is on your panties? like pussy cream. can be a panty ruiner fr if its too much - but art loves that shit. the first time he tugged your panties down and you were worried about it because it'd been a particularly gushy day and hes just like "i dont care. everything about you is sexy to me-" and if you dont believe him, you will when he pushes his nose into the seam of your panties where your cunt was all day, right where you'd leaked and he moans into it. the musk of you - the salty taste - he'll jerk off with your used panties pressed against his face if you let him.

and period sex..... he dont care !!!!! hes secretly disgusting because he gets excited about it. like visibly leaking from his tip - at the thought of sinking inside your slick bloody cunt. wants to fuck his fingers in and out and spread it all around your outer lips and clit. loves how fucking wet it makes his cock when he fucks you - disgusting freak begs you to push his cum out when hes done so he can see the pink of his spunk gush out of you mixed with your blood.

he'll suck your toes like. sweaty pussy is his favorite meal. one of his biggest fantasies is you sitting on his face after you go to the gym - just letting him yank your yoga pants down and lowering yourself down against him so hes smothered in your ass. wants to rub his tongue all over your asshole and your sweating pussy until he can barely breathe, he'd keep going till he passes out, even.

the armpit thing...... my head will spin. just continuing to pound into your pussy while he drags his tongue in the crevice of your arm where most of your sweat is - whining his name but he just holds you down and licks up your arm, all the way to the tips of your fingers which he promptly sucks into his mouth too. its like he wants to consume you.

#ask #frens <3 #tw: blood #hes so......#FREAK #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader

452 notes · View notes

ineylesian · 7 months ago

Text

— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet.

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration.

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder.

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.”

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward.

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down.

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires.

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him.

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage.

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol.

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear.

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal.

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone.

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still.

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound.

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled.

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side.

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty.

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock.

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out.

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better.

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny.

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas.

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait.

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers.

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed.

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather.

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals.

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum.

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease.

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him.

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?”

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down.

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box.

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait.

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red.

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision.

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn.

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.”

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched.

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly.

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait.

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again.

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you.

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air.

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise.

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties.

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you.

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight.

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?”

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china.

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you.

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures.

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity.

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel.

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now.

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone.

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last.

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

#eleysiacalling #eleysiansighs #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #aventurine x you #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #honkai star rail smut

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thisfanisgonesorry · 1 year ago

Text

groupie love — hobie brown

guitarists dont get as many groupies as you’d think they do. 😮

tags: smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, hairpulling, hookups go crazy, dom/sub, teasing/praise kink obv, creampie bc i forgot the condom at home, brief cockwarming. bro is a lovesick idiot fr. possessive as HELL. porn w feelings kinda? infatuation? idk theres feelings! im mentally ill! pussy so good that hes down bad! consent is sexy tho.. parasocial relationships arent

(but it’s so hard sometimes with the star when you have to share him with everybody; and i know what you’re thinking of, you want my groupie love)

🕸️

One thing led to another and he was leading me through the backstage entryway, his arm draped over my shoulder as he walked with a pep in his step, filled with adrenaline and trying to get it out of his system in ways that didn’t end in him pouncing on me. (Though admittedly, that’d be short lived.)

Backstage was mostly empty besides a few select crewmates who overall didn’t seem too phased by my presence. Hobie greeted them as he walked past, as if he knew each one personally. The rest of the band had seemingly dipped, and weren’t too worried about Hobie being missing from wherever they’d gone to hang out.

“Li’l lady wants to check out the green room.” He winked at one of the crew as he continued, dismissing them to give us space. The green room was nice but it wasn’t his destination in mind. He stood there for a minute, looking down at me briefly, before spinning dramatically and pushing his back against the dressing room door, sliding in and pressing me against the wall in a fairly smooth action.

“Don’t think anyone saw that?” I muttered out quickly, it was more of a question as I really didn’t see much from the spin itself, caught a little off guard by the sudden movement and unable to process much until I was pinned firmly against the wall. The dressing room was small, and he took advantage of the fact.

“M’hm, no.” He shook his head, leaning in slightly. “Nah, y’re all mine.” He continued.

His hands lingered on my waist, his fingertips reaching under the fabric and restraining himself as much as he could as he felt the soft skin underneath.

“You seem energised.” I laughed softly.

“I’m fine, jus’ got my blood pumping. Was a good show. Can I kiss you?” He spoke quickly to the point where if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it. There was a short moment of silence where the air hung heavy as he waited, oh, how he waited so very patiently.

“... Yeah.” I nodded.

His patience ran thin, and his lips harshly made contact with mine, almost pushing my head into the wall. What a way to get a concussion. He groaned into it for a moment, enjoying the taste and licking my bottom lip slightly. My hands loosely hung around his neck,

“Bloody ‘ell...” He muttered, pulling away and going down my neck. His free hand reached to the door, locking it before anyone could walk in. He was kissing and licking my neck, letting small bitemarks dance across the skin.

He began tugging at the hem of my shirt anxiously, wanting to just strip me bare, bend me over, fuck my brains out, but all in due time.

“Doors soundproof.” He commented. “Let me—”

One arm was wrapped around his shoulders, grabbing a fistful of the leather jacket and tugging on it to beckon him forward as the other grabbed his hand, pushing it closer. In hindsight, it was kind of sweet how certain he was letting things be.

He quickly removed my shirt that had his own band’s logo on it, throwing it to the floor and fumbling on the bra, running his large palms over the fabric. I leaned forward to kiss him again and his hands dropped to my hips, hastily (and harshly) dragging me to the dressing table, pushing me up against it.

Our lips were reconnected once again, though the kisses were messy. My arm was still around his neck, my other on his chest. His hands began to slightly shimmy down my shorts and he moaned into the kiss. “S’pretty, darlin’, so..” He mumbled breathlessly, pulling away enough to let me kick off the shorts (albeit, struggling to because of my boots) and for him to shrug off his jacket. Both articles disappeared somewhere into the room to be determined later.

My hands lingered to his hips, reaching up and feeling his toned abs from under his shirt. “Y’so hot, Hobie.” I moaned back, feeling the way his stomach tensed under my fingertips.

“What? like ‘m not meant t’be fit?” He tried to joke as he palmed my tits again.

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

He only responded with a laugh, kissing my neck and collarbone as he removed the bra, thrown to the side and his hands explored downwards in an attempt to remove the last of clothing.

“This aint fair.” I breathed, seeing him still fully dressed.

“Yeh, I know.” He responded, taking his shirt off, another piece lost to the room.

He ended up turning the light off, so the only light in the room was the one radiating from the mirror itself. He looked good like this but I guess that was the point. His face was flushed, it would be hard to tell otherwise if it wasn’t for the heat that it was giving off, you could literally feel it from across the room; his eyes were hyper focused and his lips were swollen slightly.

He leaned forward to kiss me again. “Y’re so beautiful.” He groaned.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

I reached down boldly, my fingers twitching to unbutton his jeans, to pull the zip down, to—

“Y’re gonna hurt y’self.” He joked, swatting my shaking hands away. “Touch yourself f’me.” He asked softly, trying to speak clearly despite his otherwise dishevelled behaviour.

I slid my fingers between my legs, toying with him as he watched between kisses.

“C’mon, darl’.” He purred sweetly. “Work y’self open f’me, please?”

He swallows the moans that leave my mouth as I push my fingers inside, weakly thrusting as he continues to kiss me, hovering over me as he palms his hardness through his jeans.

“Hobie, c’mon.” I groaned, getting impatient with him. All he wanted to do was toy and tease me; holding me closely as his eyes scanned my naked body like a piece of meat, kissing as much of the flesh as he could, longing for the taste and feel under his lips.

“Alr’, alr’.” He drawled finally.

He pulled away enough to create distance between us, we both stood in anticipation, catching our breath slightly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zip. The jeans themselves were grungy, and his dick freed itself from the tight confines as quickly as it could, shimmying the jeans down to his thighs.

“No underwear? Anarchist goes commando?” I asked breathlessly as I continued to work myself, yet finding humour in comparing him to a militia.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Y/n. Don’t.” He warned.

“You go pantless just in case some pretty girl would fuck you tonight?”

I poked my tongue out between my teeth, biting down on it slightly, wanting nothing more than to be testing my luck with him. He grabbed my wrists, removing my hand from my insides and holding the sticky, shiny fingers up. It looked filthy in the bright light, he tutted slightly before licking the fingers clean, grinding his hard cock against the slick folds.

He held both my wrists in place, making it impossible for me to fight him with the movement of his hips, he was careful that he wouldn’t accidentally push himself into me, whether or not that accident was with his own free will or not. He was enjoying this, the torturous nature of it all. Yeah, definitely don’t talk back to him.

“Feels s’good like this.” He tried to speak clearly; “Could jus’ fuck you like this, yeah? Cum all over y’r cunt, don’t even go in?”

“I’m sorry.” I quickly spoke when I realised he could just stay like this.

“You’re sorry?”

“Please, Hobie, fuck me real good. I’m sorry, didn’t mean it.” I pleaded, though he could tell the words were only half hearted.

He tried to laugh but it got swallowed into a groan. He threw his head back and released my wrists. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon.” He spoke, finding amusement in it. He hissed slightly at the loss of contact as he turned me around to look in the mirror, bending me over the dressing table.

His breathing quickened as he admired the view of me bent over the table, elbows supporting my weight and my pretty eyes looking up at him through the mirror. He swallowed thickly, still grinding lazily against the wetness as he tried to shimmy his pants down further, they got about a little past his knees before getting snagged on his boots and he realised that it wouldn’t go much further than that.

“Ngh.. Fuck, y’so good.” He struggled out, a low moan erupting from his throat. “Gettin’ m’cock all nice ‘n’wet.”

“Hobie, I’m sorry.” I threw my head forward, not wanting to look at our reflections. “Fuck me, please, want you.”

“I know.” He groaned as he aligned himself. He gave a harsh tug on my hair, forcibly making me look in the mirror. “Look. Watch.” He panted.

He slid his thickness deep inside in one slow, stuttery motion. I watched carefully, my mouth fell open and my eyes threatened to close. His eyebrows knitted together and his mouth mimicked mine, falling agape.

“Oh my fucking god.” I moaned out, unable to hold my head up but quickly felt the tug on my hair as he held my limp neck in position.

He buried himself completely, “Look at how I’m stretchin’ you out, y/n, my darlin’.” He grinned lopsidedly.

He began thrusting slowly, watching the faces that I made, his eyebrows stayed knitted like he was focused on my expressions and nothing else.

“So good, Hobie.” I muttered, my head threatening to dip forward if it wasn’t for his grip on my hair. I tried to squirm away from him and his grip on my hip got tighter. “So big.”

“Yeah?” He spoke condescendingly, relishing at the way I felt around him. “Y’ve been dreamin’ about this, haven’t ya’?”

“Mhm, all the time.” I moaned quietly. “Fantasise about y’so bad.”

“I bet’cha always wondered how good I’d feel buried deep in y’cunt.” He commented, picking up his pace as he felt the warmth swallow him perfectly; it wasn’t necessarily rough or fast, but the size of his cock as it nestled all the way in was almost too much. Almost. “The real things s’much better, ain’t it?”

“Ah! Yes!” I cried, reaching back to push at his hips.

“Takin’ me s’well, darlin’.” He groaned, not letting up. He wasn’t being relentless but the position and the harsh pound of his cock was all too much at once, I closed my eyes tight and he fought the urge to give another harsh tug on my hair.

“S’deep, Hobes, baby—” I groaned, though it was immediately followed by pathetic whines which completely diminished the point I was trying to make.

“Why y’pushin’ at me, sweet thing? What’s wrong?” He teased, knowing damn well that there wasn’t the faintest of an issue.

“So deep.. So big. Slow down.”

“What? Y’don’t think y’can take it?” He joked through slurred speech, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Mhm!” I jerked forward with a whine, then feeling the harsh tug on my hair as my body pulled away from his tight grip.

“I think y’can take it jus’ fine.” He continued teasing, still desperately nudging my insides. “M’pricks too big f’you, ain’t it, darlin’?”

I shook my head weakly, keeping my eyes glued on his face as he fucked me from behind. “No, mhm— I can take it.” I struggled out.

“Y’doin’ s’good.” He slurred with a groan.

The audible wet sounds began to fill the dressing room and I could do nothing but let out a pathetic whine as I could feel the sticky liquid make a mess on both our thighs. The slickness was making it easier for him to slide in and out, using it to his advantage to fuck into me even harder. It did nothing to ease the slight slapping sound, and if that door wasn’t soundproof like Hobie claimed, we were probably being louder than the show itself was.

I shook my head weakly, jerking forward at his movements and taking whatever he would give me. “So good. So deep. So big.” I rambled, the only words that my brain could come up with at the given moment.

“I want y’to watch, darlin. Look at y’r pretty face as I fuck you.” He spoke, knowing I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes in the slightest, coming across like nothing but a cock drunk groupie whore, though I guess, it wasn’t far off. “Y’re basically droolin’ for me.”

“Keep talkin’ to me like that, holy shit, make me cum.”

“Eyes up here. On me. Y’got it.” He praised, his harsh tugs became more gentle as he got more stern in keeping my eyes on the view. “Keep lookin’, c’mon, darlin’, look. Y’re s’beautiful. All f’me, look at ya. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His voice began to ramble, whines and groans leaving his throat at intervals.

“I’m trying.” I mumbled out; “It’s hard.”

“Darl’, ‘m not gon’ keep tellin ya’ to keep y’head up.” He moaned, removing his hand from my hair and rubbing figure 8’s right where I needed it. “Yeah, y’re gonna take it.” He panted, leaning over my body to press kisses on my shoulder and neck. “Take it, darlin’, doin’ good. Doin’ so good.”

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, looking down through half-lidded eyes at the filthy view of him fucking me into his dressing table.

“See? You can handle watchin y’self gettin’ fucked like a good girl.”

“Hobie, ‘m gonna cum.” I moaned, struggling to watch myself but worried that if I stopped, he’d pull his hands away from me.

“Watch y’self, good girl.” He praised again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Fuck, can feel y’squeezin’ me.” He whined. “Cum for me, darlin’, s’pretty when y’clench this big cock, yeah? ‘M stretching it out, y’gonna be so perfect f’me.”

I took a bite out of my knuckle as I felt it hit, he slowed down slightly but kept the movements methodical besides the gradual slowing as he praised me throughout it.

“Hobie—” I cried out.

The way I clenched around him made him harshly hold onto my hip, the moans filled the room loudly as he fucked me through the wave. Small purrs of praise were audible but it was almost impossible to focus.

“You right?” He rasped out, slowing his movements to a halt. He would’ve cum right then and there if he didn’t have half the mind to prolong himself.

“Mhm.” I hummed, dazed and confused. “Keep goin’.” I acknowledged, wanting to make him feel good.

“Wish I could fuck a pretty thing like you after all m’shows.” He spoke sweetly in my ear, thrusting up again for his own orgasm, it started slow but he increased his pace when he began riling himself up with ideas. “Tease y’before so y’re all wet and ready when ‘m done.” He laughed softly. “Y’can help me warm up m’fingers for the guitar.”

He spoke softly and calmly as he could, feeling the wetness twitch around him from overstimulation. He kept this slow as he could, knowing that he didn’t want to end things just yet. His dazed eyes tried to memorise every detail he could; hooking up with a groupie meant the chance of never seeing them again, his movements on my clit picking up too; he was desperate to bring me pleasure, he needed this just as much as I did, which was saying a lot.

I weakly tried to keep my head up, watching his face attentively, he looked completely dishevelled with need; something about this was driving him crazy but all I could focus on was how good he felt.

He started kissing my neck again before deciding to ask a question he knew I probably wouldn’t answer otherwise. “Why ain’t you got’a boyfr’nd?” He grunted over my limp body, feeling himself hit the deepest parts and watching me react to it. My vision would go white and I’d jerk into the feeling.

“Don’t want one. Only want you.” I spoke matter-of-factly despite my dazed demeanour.

“Fuck, Y/n, Don’t say that.” He choked. “Wan’ keep you all f’myself.”

I groaned, pressing myself closer against his body. His arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me to stand upright and my arms reached around to touch him the best I could, though his hand stayed glued to the pussy that he’d grown infatuated with.

“Y’re gonna be thinkin’ about this for a long time, yeah?” He breathed. “Gonna think about m’cock fuckin’ into y’cunt?”

“Hobie—”

“I feel y’gettin’ close again. God, want y’so fuckin’ bad.”

His hand took a faster pace than what it previously was, rubbing hard and fast circles into my clit, wanting to feel me be undone on him when he cums.

“Better than I could’ve imagined.” I panted in admission.

“Y’re.. ‘M right there.” He moaned. “Y’so hot, makin’ me s’hard. Gonna make m’cum.”

There was nothing I could do to respond besides lewdly take what he was giving me, nodding weakly and trying to watch the view in front of me. He looked so beautifully debauched, and feeling his ragged breathing against my spine was something I didn’t know I needed to feel, something I unknowingly longed for.

“Mhm, y’can stay wit’ us.” He nodded, as if what he was rambling made any sense. “Bring you along, keep you f’shows. Darlin’, you’d be my perfect li’l groupie..”

His pussy-whipped drunk ramblings sounded like a love confession as he neared his release, knowing he didn’t want it to be over so soon but desperately wanting to feel the warm, tensing tightness around him as he filled me as much as he could.

“I want you, I want you.” I nodded back, too cock-drunk to care.

“Cum f’me, y/n, cum with me, need— Oh fuckin’ shit.”

He groaned as he felt the clenching of my walls around his hard cock, desperately wanting to take him for all he’s got. Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me is the only phrase that repeated in my head as I felt the twitching and nearing signs.

“Give it to me, please, give it to me.” I pleaded through orgasm.

His body shook with want and he forced his eyes to stay open, needing to watch this unfold before him in a weak attempt to convince himself that it was real. Keenly watching the way my face contorted as I came on him, my eyes barely open enough to see the way his face mirrored mine. He let out small pants and whines, before his hips pushed deeply, his hips stuttering weakly as he filled me with his cum.

I felt the warm liquid between my legs, throwing my head back and sighing as I tried to relax from the high. Beautiful afterglow; beautiful boy. He collapsed forward slightly, holding me in place but using one arm to support us.

“It’s a really nice tour bus. Don’t even need y’own bed, just sleep in mine.” He continued in a whisper, pressing a soft kiss into the sticky flesh of my neck, nuzzling the hair away.

We stood for a moment before he pulled a chair from the side of the dressing table, slowly sitting us on it and keeping the position, his arms wrapped around me tightly like he never planned to let go.

I squirmed at the feeling. “Mhm.. Y’think?” I laughed softly; not taking him close to serious.

His eyes were heavy and he continued to look at us in the mirror, an unreadable expression as he buried his head behind my shoulder, his eyes barely poking above the flesh for him to admire the view. “I’m serious.” He mumbled awkwardly before going to a complete whisper. “Stay?”

1K notes · View notes

moviesismylife · 10 months ago

Text

Overprotective mate (Azriel x f!reader)

Summary:

You offer Azriel a place at your house, to get away from Nesta and Cassian’s lust. You get injured on a mission for Rhys, and Azriel goes all mother hen mode.

Warnings:

Mentions of intimacy

Blood, injury

Mentions of alcohol

Tropes:

Who did this to you?

Friends to lovers

Note:

Hey lovelies, this is my first fic on here, so please be nice. I really enjoy writing and drooling over fictional characters, and I know you do too. So let’s feed our delusion together. I know y’all are thirsting over Azriel as much as I am.

Enjoy x

Y/n

I knock on Nesta and Cassian’s door, clothed in my fighting leathers.

The door knob twists and the door freaks, as I spot Nesta’s head poking through the door.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” She asks as he opens the door fully.

“Coming to see you, and also to talk to Azriel about something” I tell her.

She steps aside to let me in, and I do. The door closes behind me, and the warmth of the house hits my body.

My back is facing her, so she walks around me to face my front.

“Sorry about the mess, I was going to clean it up, but I got a little distracted” she says, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“Okay ew, I did not need to know that” I say, making a disgusted face, and she just chuckles in response.

“Nes who’s here” a male voice says, as it enters the hallway we’re standing in.

“Cassian” I say smiling at him.

“Y/n!” He squeals, and runs over to hug me.

He lifts me off the floor easily, and spins me around.

I laugh, as I hug him back.

He lets me down, and stands next to Nesta.

“Where’s Az?” I ask them both.

They look towards the living room, and I take that as a hint.

I leave my weapons in the hallway, and head into the living area.

As I enter I can’t spot him, but I hear some noises coming from the kitchen, so naturally I head towards them.

When I enter, I spot Azriel with his back to me.

He has a towel slung over one of his shoulders, and the water is running in the sink. He’s clothed in his Illyrian fighting leathers, sculpting his body like a god.

“You just got done with your morning workout?” I ask, to make him aware of my presence.

He turns around, not at all startled, and just leans against the counter.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” He asks, as he sips from the water bottle he must have been filling up.

Fuck he looks insanely good. His hair is damp from his workout, and his cheeks are slightly tinted. His skin is glowing from the sweat, but he still manages to smell absolutely divine.

“I’m actually here to talk to you” I say, as I place my elbows on the kitchen isle in front of me, leaning forward.

“Okay…about what?” He asks me, putting down his water bottle.

“Well I have an offer for you” I tell him.

“What kind of offer?” He questions.

“To come live with me, instead of the two horndogs you’re living with right now” I answer him.

He raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“Look I have a spare room in my little cottage on the edge of the city, and I’m barely ever home. So do you need somewhere private and quiet to stay, my place is open” I explain to him.

“Oh uhm, are you sure?” He asks.

Honestly I’m kind of shocked he’s agree so quickly. I mean I would want to get away from Nesta and Cassian’s fucking too, but I expected him to mull it over more.

“Yeah of course. It’s no trouble. Besides as I said, I’m almost never home, so you’d basically have the place to yourself” I tell him.

“That’s generous of you, but I would have to talk to Nesta and Cassian about it first” he says, as he puts his towel down on the counter.

“Yeah, no of course” I say, and he gives me a slight nod, before walking off to find them.

*about 15 minutes later*

“Why do you have to leave us Az? I liked having you here” Cassian whines, as me and Azriel are standing in the hallway, ready to leave.

“It’s okay babe, we’ll have the house all to ourselves now” Nesta grins at him.

That makes him shut up, and grin back.

I roll my eyes and pick up my weapons.

“You’ll be free to visit anytime” I tell them both, and they nod at me.

“Okay you ready?” I ask Azriel, as I offer up my arm.

He links his in mine, and I winnow us out.

——————

We land in my own hallway, and I let go of his arm.

Again, I put my weapons down, and he does as well.

“Okay, you want me to show you around?” I turn to look at him.

He just nods. Not exactly a man of many words.

I walk left and into the living room.

“Okay, so here is the small living area, and in there is the kitchen” I say, pointing to an archway leading from the living room.

Then I walk back into the hallway.

“That door leads to a small bathroom” I hint to the door on the right.

“Okay that’s everything downstairs, so let me show you upstairs” I start walking up the stairs.

I can hear him following me as I lead us both up to the second floor.

As we reach the top of the stairs, there is a little hallway, with several doors on each side.

“Okay so uhm, this door leads into my room, and a private bathroom that connects with it” I say as I hint for the door on the left.

I walk in a little further, until I reach the first door on the right.

“And it’s basically the same in here, but you can feel free to explore it yourself” I continue.

He just nods in understanding.

I walk further until I reach two glass doors. I open them and walk out into a little balcony.

“So this is just a little comfort place, but I mostly use it for reading, drinking, and a landing spot for when I fly in” I explain to him.

Then I turn around to face him.

He’s just looking around him, studying everything.

“Okay well, I have to leave, but I’ll be back sometime tonight. I’ll try not to make a sound” I say, and he snaps his head to mine.

Again he just nods, and I take that as a hint for me to leave.

I turn around to walk back into the house when he speaks.

“Y/n?”

I turn around again to face him.

“Thank you” he smiles softly.

“Of course” I smile warmly back, before turning back around again, and walking into the hallway.

*hours later*

I winnow into my room, and land on the floor with a thud. I try to be more quiet as I stumble back steadily on my feet.

The wound on my hipbone is throbbing, and I need to attend to it now.

I promised Azriel I’d be quiet when I returned home, but I’ve not done so well this far.

I make my way over to my bathroom, grabbing some rubbing alcohol and a cloth. Then I stumble back into the bedroom, and take a seat on the bed.

I drop my weapons and every other thing I was carrying on the floor, as I try to unbutton my corset.

Fuck why does it have to be so difficult. I try not to moan out in pain, as my wound keeps on throbbing.

I was attacked by several water wraiths on my mission for Rhys. And I made my way out fine, except for the open wound on my hipbone.

But luckily I achieved what I wanted, and I was able to retrieve the item he sent me for.

Although that would be no help if I couldn’t deliver it to him in the morning. And right now, by the looks of the wound, I needed some serious healing.

There was some kind of poison in my wound and I’d try to extract it with my magic, to no avail.

I’d have to go to a healer tomorrow, but now I just wanted sleep.

I finally pull off my corset, and throw it on the floor, as I lift up my white linen shirt to get better access to the wound.

I grab the cloth and rubbing alcohol, pouring some on it, as I press the cloth to my flesh.

I scream in pain, as the alcohol connects with my open and fresh skin. Blood is already dripping everywhere, and I bite down on my lip to refrain from screaming again.

The last thing I want is to wake up Azriel.

The someone bursts through my door.

“Y/n!” Azriel says panicked, as he flings the door open.

I snap my head to him, and curse myself for waking him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” I apologize as he heads over to me.

“What happened?” He asks, avoiding my apology.

He bends down in front of me, and kneels as he takes a look at my hand pressed firmly on my wound.

“Let me see it” he demands, as he looks up at me.

“No I’m fine. Go back to bed” I argue, as I wave him away.

“There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you like this” he curses, and I’m shocked at his sudden angry tone.

He notices and softens, as he speaks again.

“Just let me help you” he pleads, looking into my eyes, and I give up.

I raise my hand and cloth from the wound, revealing to to him.

“Who did this to you?” He ask as he removes the cloth slowly from my hand.

I let him.

“Water wraiths” I answer, as he moves his hand to my shirt.

He lifts it slightly higher, and I shiver as his fingers grazes my skin lightly.

He looks up into my eyes asking for permission to tend to my wound.

I just give him a slight nod, and he presses the cloth carefully onto my skin again.

I wince, as I grab onto his shoulder in reaction.

He cleans the wound thoroughly, and patches me up. He even uses some of his own magic to soothe out the pain.

As he’s finished I immediately feel relief wash over me.

“You’re gonna have to see a healer tomorrow” he says a he takes the alcohol and cloth into the bathroom.

“I will. After I talk to Rhys” I tell him.

“He sent you on this dangerous mission?” He questions as he turns around to walk back into my bedroom.

I don’t answer him, and use my magic to change from fighting leathers into a simple nightgown.

I let my hair stay in the messy braid it already is, before I crawl into my bed.

“Goodnight Azriel, and thank you” I say as I get comfortable.

He sighs and heads over to my door. He halts before walking out.

“Anytime you need me, I’m here. No matter what it is” he says, and I don’t get to respond before he vanishes out of my room, closing the door behind him.

I try not to think about it, as I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to pull me in. And eventually it does.

*next morning*

I open my eyes to sunlight beaming through my curtains. I shift to sit up in my bed.

As I lift my nightgown, I notice that my wound has worsened overnight. Although the throbbing sensation isn’t as bad as it was last night. Thanks to Azriel.

I get out of bed, and pull on some pants, as well as a red loose linen shirt, also pulling on a pair of simple black boots.

I look in the mirror to spot my hair a mess, so I take out the braid, and twist my hair into a messy bun, using a large hair pin to secure it.

Then I decide to head downstairs.

As I walk down, I hear some grumbling and clinking of metal, sounding from the kitchen.

I walk into the living room, and further into the kitchen, where I spot Azriel, cooking food.

That’s something I never thought I’d see.

He must notice my presence, because he turns his head slightly to the side, sliding his eyes over my body.

I can’t help but feel tingles as he roams his gaze over me.

“You feeling better?” He asks as he turns his head back around.

I debate whether I should tell him about the spreading of the wound or not. But I do, as he’s probably gonna demand to see it anyways.

“A little yeah, your magic helped a lot with the pain. But the poison has spread” I say, sitting down at the small kitchen table.

“Let me see it” he demands as expected, turning his full body around to face me.

I sigh, and lift up my shirt to the expose the infected wound.

He curses under his breath, and strides over to where I’m sitting.

“I’m gonna kill Rhys for letting this happen to you” he says angrily.

“Az it’s fine. I chose to go. Rhys didn’t force me” I explain to him.

“You got hurt y/n. Badly” he looks into my eyes.

He’s standing in front of me, making me look up at him.

“I told you, I’m fine” I say again.

He lifts my chin up slightly, placing a hand under it.

“I’m coming with you to the town house” he says and walks away, back to whatever he’s cooking.

I sigh, knowing I won’t be able to stop him. If he wants to come, he’s gonna come.

——————

Me and Az are standing in the living room in the town house with Rhys.

“Why did you let her leave when you knew how dangerous it was?” Azriel asks Rhys mad.

He’s been cursing out Rhys for the past five minutes now, for letting me go on a mission with him. I’ve been trying to stop Az but he won’t listen to me.

“Azriel. She wanted to go herself. And I’m sorry she got hurt. But you can’t put this on me” Rhys says calmly, trying to reason with Az.

“I don’t fucking care! This IS your fault! If it was Feyre that got hurt, how would you have reacted then huh?” Az argues, but Rhys is just standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Do not bring Feyre into this” Rhys warns.

“Bring me into what?” A soft voice asks from behind.

We all turn our heads to spot Feyre, Mor, Nesta and Cassian all standing in the hallway, looking at us.

“It’s nothing guys…” I try to tell them.

“Then why does Azriel look like he’s gonna rip Rhys’s head off?” Cassian asks confused.

I sigh heavily, taking a deep breath.

“Rhys sent y/n on a dangerous mission and almost got her killed. And then he doesn’t even care” Azriel explains to them, and they all turn their heads to Rhys.

“He’s being over dramatic. Y/n wanted to go herself” Rhys tries to explain calmly to the others.

“Over dramatic? Have you seen her fucking wound?” Azriel curses, very angry.

Everyone looks shocked at Azriel’s swearing. He’s the quiet type, and rarely gets angry in front of others. Especially angry with us.

“Az…please calm down..” I say breaking the silence.

“I won’t calm down when you could have died y/n” he yells at me.

“Why are you yelling at me? I’m just trying to talk to you” I answer a little annoyed at him for yelling at me, when it’s Rhys he’s actually angry with.

He doesn’t answer and just tries to steady his breathing instead. Then Cassian walks over to me.

“Let me see your injury y/n…” he tells me quietly, to not trigger Azriel.

I lift up my shirt to show the infected wound, spreading more and more over my body.

He slaps his hand over his mouth, as he looks at it, and the girls run over to see how bad it is. They too look scared as they inspect the wound.

“Rhys this is not a normal wound. I think she’s been poisoned” Feyre says as she looks at her mate.

He walks over to me to see it for himself, and raises his eyebrows in shock as he sees it.

“Fuck. I’m sorry y/n. I shouldn’t have let you go on that mission for me” he apologizes.

“No it’s fine, I wanted to myself” I tell him, and he gives me an apologetic smile.

“Azriel please don’t be mad at him for this…” I say as I look over at him.

“Az come on man…we’ll take her to a healer” Cassian adds as well, trying to get his attention.

I sigh, moving away from the others and walking over to him.

He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and I move my hands to them, to untuck his tight grip.

As I touch his arms, he rests a little into me, letting me touch him.

“You promised you’d go with me to the healer…” I say at a desperate attempt to get his attention.

Finally he looks up at me.

“Fine. But we’re leaving now” he agrees, but doesn’t show any emotion.

The others don’t say anything as he strides to the front door to leave as fast as he can.

I wait to follow him, turning my attention to the others.

“I’ll talk to him alright? He’ll be fine, he just needs to calm down” I tell them.

They nod their heads, and I move the front door, to leave with Az.

——————

We arrive at the healer, and a kind fae named Victoria inspects my wound.

I am sitting on a medical bed, while Azriel is standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest.

“Your wound has been poisoned” Victoria says as she touches my skin slightly.

“Yeah we kind of figured that part out ourselves” I joke slightly.

She touches my wound and I wince.

“I’m sorry” she says, pulling away.

“It’s fine, just help me please” I say, stealing a quick glance over at Azriel.

His face is blank, watching every movement.

Victoria walks over to a little table, grabbing some herbs and medicine, before walking back over to me.

“I’ll put these herbs on your wound, and it should heal in about a week. I will also give you these pills for the pain. And I would highly advise you to take it slow, and not do anything to livid, so it can heal faster” she tells me, putting the herbs on the infected wound.

I nod my head in understanding.

“I’ll be careful, and postpone any energetic exercises until it’s fully healed” I tell her.

She smiles warmly at me.

“Should anything go wrong, you come to me alright?” She asks as she bandages up my wound again.

“Of course” I smile at her, standing up from the bed.

I walk over to the door and Azriel follows me.

“Oh and remember to change your bandage daily” she adds quickly, and I nod again, before walking out of her little office.

Me and Azriel walk into the sunny streets of Velaris, and a light breeze blows by.

“See I told you it was fine” I say, trying to lighten Azriel’s mood.

“You got lucky” he answers coldly, and I roll my eyes.

“Are you still in a mood? Stop being so over dramatic” I say as I turn to look at him.

“I’m not over dramatic. I’m just being protective. I hate seeing you hurt” he tells me and I feel my heart jump a beat at his words.

“Well I’m glad you care about me Az, but I don’t want you to flip out on everyone because I got hurt” I say, as I cross my arms over my chest.

He doesn’t say anything, and just looks down at the ground in silence.

I sigh.

“Can we go back to the town house now? And can you please promise me that you won’t stay mad at Rhys?” I ask him, and he looks up at me.

“I promise to try” he answers me, and I sigh in defeat, knowing that’s the best answer I’ll get.

Then we walk back, heading towards the town house.

——————

“We’re back!” I yell as we enter the town house.

I take off my shoes and coat and walk into the living room, where I find all of them chatting amongst themselves.

“Y/n how’d it go?” Rhys asks as Azriel comes up behind me.

“It went fine actually. The nurse put some herbs on my wound to kill the poison, and some pills for the pain. But it should be healed in about a week” I say smiling softly at him.

“That’s great y/n” Feyre tells me, and I smile at her too.

Rhys looks at Azriel staring behind me, and guilt flashes his face.

“Az…can we please squash it. It’s my fault I know. I shouldn’t have sent y/n on that mission” he says, looking at Azriel.

I hear Az sighing behind me, placing a gentle hand on my back, before speaking.

“Just don’t do it again” he says, accepting Rhys’s apology.

Rhys smiles contently.

Then I spit Cassian looking at the hand Azriel’s placed on my back, and he smirks.

Azriel notices Cassian too, and immediately pulls his hand back.

Cassian just chuckles at his reaction.

“Why don’t we go to Rita’s tonight? I think we all need it” I suggest.

“Can you drink with your injury?” Mor asks looking at me.

“Yeah as long as I don’t drink too much I should be fine. Tell you what I’ll be the responsible parent tonight” I answer.

“You know I could actually get down for that” Feyre agrees.

“Me too” Nesta adds.

“Me three” Cassian says, agreeing with everything his mate says.

The others nod in agreement as well.

“Okay great. We leave in thirty” I say, and walk towards the stairs, to go upstairs and get ready.

——————

I’m wearing a short, black, backless glitter dress, with some black heels. I’ve got my hair hanging down in loose waves, and some golden hoops in my ears.

I head downstairs to where the others are standing. Mor is wearing a red, satin, slit dress. Feyre is wearing a midnight blue, strapless dress. And Nesta is wearing an all black one, with long sleeves.

All the guys are clothed in the same black dress pants and shirts. The top buttons undone to show their muscular chests.

”Mor I love your dress” I smile at her.

“Thanks babes. You look hot ” she winks back.

“Yeah you look beautiful y/n” Azriel adds as well.

I look at him, kind of surprised at this sudden compliment. The others have the same reaction, as they look between us.

“Thanks Az…” I say awkwardly.

Feyre spots the obvious tension, and decides to interfere”

“Let’s go shall we?”

Rhys nods his head and opens the door, and we all leave.

——————

Azriel

I watch y/n as she dances and laughs with the other girls. She looks absolutely stunning, I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

I should have never anything earlier, although she didn’t seem to bother.

“Hey Az…you might wanna avert your gaze somewhere else for a while” Rhys says from beside me, in our little booth.

“What” I turn to look at him.

“You’ve been watching y/n like a hawk for the last thirty minutes now” he answers, smirking a little.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, even though I know he’s right.

“Az you’re completely eye fucking her” Cassian says as well, and I roll my eyes.

“I am not” I snap at him.

“Whatever you say” he grins.

I roll my eyes at him again, standing up.

“Where are you going?” Rhys asks confused.

“To get a drink” I answer shortly, and stride for the bar.

Y/n

“I’m tired can we sit down?” Feyre asks as another song comes on.

“Yeah I’m tired too” Mor adds.

“Yeah okay” I say, and we walk out of the crowd.

I head towards our little booth, where Cassian and Rhys are both sitting. No Azriel though.

“Hey, you guys done already?” Cassian asks as Nesta sits down next to him.

“You try to dance for an hour straight” she snaps at him, and he just laughs, placing a hand on her thigh.

“Hey where’s Azriel?” Feyre asks, taking a seat next to her mate.

Mor moves next to Feyre and I move next to Nesta.

“He said he was getting a drink, but he’s been gone for a while now” Rhys answers, looking out in the crowd for him.

“Azriel never drinks” I say, as I take a sip of Cassian’s from the table.

“Hey” he snaps at me, but I just glare at him.

“Maybe you should go looking for him y/n” Nesta says, looking at me.

“Why me?” I ask her.

“Because no one else wants to” she answers shortly.

“Fine…” I sigh, and get up.

I walk over to the crowd again to see if I spot him. I try to look over all the dancing bodies, but I can’t see him. Instead I take a quick look over at the bar, but I don’t find him there either.

I stand up on my tiptoes, searching for him, when I feel a pair of two large hands on my waist.

I turn around quickly, to find two drunken hazel eyes staring at me.

“Azriel” I say in surprise, as he’s standing very close.

We’re in the middle of the crowd, with several sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, making very little space for us.

He keeps his hands on my waist, while trailing his eyes all over my body. I blush slightly at his gaze, but try to hide it.

His grip tightens, and he pulls me into him, making my hands go to his chest in support.

Then he angels his head, moving his gaze to my lips. His fingers trace the bare back that’s not covered by my dress, and I slightly shiver.

“Azriel what are you doing…” I say lowly, as his fingers trail over my bare skin.

He doesn’t respond and instead moves his head to my ear, whispering.

“You look beautiful my love…”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks again at his words.

“You’re drunk” I respond slowly.

“I still think you’re absolutely divine” he speaks again and I don’t move.

He moves away from my ear, only for his face to be inches from mine.

My breathing gets heavy and I struggle to keep eye contact. What is happening to me?

“We should head back to the others…” I tell him.

“Should we?” He questions, looking at my lips again.

“Yes…” I breathe out, pulling away from him hesitantly.

He lets go of me, and I turn away, walking away from the crowd once again.

I can feel him following me, so I don’t stop.

As we reach our booth, the others turn to look at me. And Azriel, who comes up next to me, placing a hand on my waist.

“I see you found him” Rhys says, gazing towards the hand on my waist.

“Uh yes I did” I respond, moving to sit next to Nesta again.

“I can’t believe I’m even saying this. But is Azriel drunk?” Mor asks, grinning a little, as she looks at him.

“Mhm…” I nod in reply.

Her grin turns even wider, and I see the others mouths turning up as well.

Then Azriel decides to move next to me, despite the also empty spot next to Mor, and sits down.

He doesn’t seem embarrassed, as he moves as close as possible to me.

I shift in my seat nervously, as his body heat and scent radiates onto my own.

“Hey buddy, why are you clinging to y/n so much huh?” Cassian asks, a wide smirk plastered on his face, and I glare at him.

“Yeah Az, please elaborate on this sudden infatuation with our dear friend y/n here” Mor adds, and I shoot her a glare too.

“What do you mean sudden…” Azriel responds shortly, as he turns his head to her.

Feyre and Mor gasp in shock, and Nesta chuckles as I blush badly.

“She’s so beautiful…” he mumbles, pushing some hair off my shoulder.

I sit completely still, as I feel his piercing gaze on me.

I hear Cassian struggle not to laugh his ass off, and I see the others grinning like hell.

“Hey Az…maybe we should go back” I say, turning to look at him.

“No don’t leave yet” Mor whines.

“No it’s fine, I’ll take him with me to my cottage. I promised to be the responsible parent right?” I say smiling a little.

“Maybe she’s right. I think Azriel needs to go to bed” Rhys agrees.

“Fine…” Mor sighs in defeat, and I smile a little.

Then I turn to Azriel again, moving to stand up. He rises from his seat, and I follow.

“Come on big guy…” I say as I link my arm in his and walk for the exit.

“Have fun!” Cassian winks and I flip him off.

The others laugh as I lead Azriel out of Rita’s.

——————

We arrive at my small cottage and I stumble us inside.

I flip off my heels and drag Azriel with me upstairs. Then I lead him into his bedroom and sit him on the bed.

As I try to walk away, he grabs my waist, pulling me in between his legs. I steady my hands on his shoulders in response.

He then rubs circles with his thumbs in soothing motion, and I tug my hair behind my ears.

His hands move up to my waist and up to my bare back again, pushing me closer to him. My thighs are touching his, and my hands have moved to rest comfortably on his neck and shoulders.

“I’m sorry for making you angry” he apologizes.

“I’m not angry Az” I answer him.

“You’re not?” He questions.

“No. I was annoyed with you, but not anymore” I tell him, as I move a hand to stroke his cheek.

He smiles slightly.

“Good”

One of his hands move to my neck, pulling it down towards his face. I follow his lead, leaning down.

He moves my face slowly towards his, before brining his lips to mine softly.

I’m taken back by surprise, but don’t hold back, as I get more comfortable. I decide to sit on his lap, and he immediately places his hands on my waist to keep me in place.

I kiss him passionately, keeping my hands on his face, to cup his cheeks.

But then I realize what I’m doing and pull away.

“Shit I shouldn’t have done that” I say, standing up from his lap.

“No y/n wait-“

“No you need to go to bed Azriel” I cut him off, striding towards the door.

“Y/n please” I hear him beg behind me, but I continue to walk out and into my own room.

When I get into my own bedroom, I shut the door closed, and throw myself on the bed.

I slip off my dress, and put an oversized t-shirt to sleep in. Then I force myself to go to sleep, pushing away all my feelings. And also the fact that Azriel is my fucking mate.

——————

I wake up and walk down into the kitchen. Azriel hasn’t woken up yet luckily.

I decide to grab some juice from the fridge, and drink straight from the bottle, before I hear steps entering the kitchen.

I don’t even turn around as his presence fills the room.

“Good morning…” he says quietly, heading over to where I’m standing.

“Morning” I respond shortly, not turning around.

He reaches the fridge and I turn around to face the counter, as he moves past me.

“Y/n about last night…I’m sorry” he starts to apologize.

“For what?” I ask boldly, my back still facing him.

“For leading you on, and making you kiss me. It was foolish of me” he admits, and I can feel him standing close.

“I wanted to kiss you” I say turning around, and leaning my back against the counter.

He only raises his eyebrows in shock and confusion.

“You were drunk, I just didn’t wanna take advantage of you” I continue, sitting up on the counter, my feet dangling off the edge.

My t-shirt is only long enough to cover my ass, so when I sit, it rises up my thighs. Azriel takes a notice of this and steals a glance at the bare skin of my thighs, before speaking.

“Well I appreciate that but uhm…actually I…” he stutters as he talks. Unusual.

“You what…” I urge for him to keep going.

He only walks closer to me, placing his hands on my thighs. I shiver at his touch, knowing his shadows can sense it.

“Say it Azriel…” I tell him as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“You’re my…” he hesitates.

I pull him closer to me, so our noses are barely touching.

“Mate” I finish for him, smashing my lips onto his.

He doesn’t think twice as his hands move to my waist, pulling me closer to him.

I keep my hands on his neck, running my fingers through his hair, as I kiss him passionately.

He’s so fucking good at this. His hands dig into my sides, and he opens his mouth, so I can slide my tongue in. And I do.

He kisses me more roughly, pulling and tugging at my shirt. His teeth graze my bottom lip as he slightly nibbles.

I pull away to catch my breath, only for him to crash his lips onto my neck instead.

I push my hair to one side, as he trails his tongue over my skin. Then he decides to start sucking instead. I let out a silent moan as he bites into my neck.

With that he pushes into me even more, making our lower abdomens graze each other.

“Y/n…” he groans, and I wrap my legs around his torso.

I pull his head up from my neck, so we’re face to face.

We make eye contact, and I move my hand to push some hair out of his face. Then I cup his cheeks, and lean in to place my forehead on his.

I close my eyes, and breathe in his scent and presence.

His hands rest on my hips, with my legs still wrapped loosely around him.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers.

I raise my head and open my eyes.

“For what?” I ask confused.

“For being such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let you get hurt, but I definitely shouldn’t have lashed out like I did. It’s just that you mean the world to me. If you get hurt, I get hurt. If you die, I die” he answers.

I can’t help but feel bad for him. He’s genuinely hurting because of this.

“Azriel…you mean the world to me too. Believe me, I wouldn’t have held back if you got inured either. It just upset me that you didn’t listen to me when I told you it was fine” I say, stroking his cheek soothingly with my thumb.

“I know love…and I promise I’ll listen you next time. Can you forgive me?” He asks, regret shining his eyes.

“There is nothing to forgive…” I answer, leaning in slowly to give his lips a comforting kiss.

He doesn’t stop me as I kiss him. This time the kiss is not filled with lust and hunger, but pure love and longing.

As I pull away again, I keep my hands on his neck, and he keeps mine on my hips.

“Breakfast?” I ask him softly, trailing fingers through his hair.

“Mhm” he nods, and leans in to give another quick and loving kiss.

We both smile through the kiss, and I feel every part of my body relaxing at his touch.

——————

“You know we’re gonna get bullied for centuries for this?” I say, as I take a bite of my fried egg toast.

“Oh trust me I know…Cassian is going to be a big pain in the ass to say the least” Azriel replies, as he eats too.

“As long as I get to have you all for mysel” I say, a hint of seduction in my voice.

He just cocks an eyebrow at me knowingly, and I take another bite of my food.

“We don’t have anything important planned today right…” he asks, not looking up at me, as he sips his juice.

“No I don’t think so…why?” I ask curiously.

He just shrugs, and I give him a playful look.

“I’m glad you moved in here with me…” I say, finishing my food.

“Me too…” he trails off as he also finishes up.

I grab my plate and cup, heading over to the sink to wash it. I hear Azriel following me from behind.

As I wash my dishes, he comes up behind me, placing his own in the sink. I wash his too, as his hands start to roam my body.

Still wearing my t-shirt, he presses into my back, running his hands up my thighs. I can already fell my body aching for him.

I truly underestimated the whole mating thing. When Rhys and Feyre told me they basically fucked each other with no breaks for a week, I only laughed at them. But now I want nothing more than to let Azriel do the same to me.

As his hands smoothes over my bare skin, a shiver runs down my spine. He lifts my t-shirt up to my waist, exposing my underwear.

One of his hands trail under my shirt, up towards my breast, while the other goes to my ass.

I lean my head slightly back, closing my eyes. His lips move to the bare skin of my neck, licking and kissing.

When his hand finally reaches my breast, he cups it, running his finger smoothly over the already hardened nipple.

I let out a slight moan, as he touches the sensitive spot. He just smirks into my neck, as he starts to suck it.

My hands find their way to the counter, grabbing it harshly, my knuckles turning white.

I continue to let out several whimpers and slight moans, as his hand and tongue devour me.

Then his hips grind into my backside. His bulge grazing into my ass. With that we both let out loud moans.

——————

“I thought we had nothing planned today…” I breathe out as Azriel’s head in between my legs.

“We didn’t. But apparently Rhys did…” he murmurs into my skin.

“I’m gonna kill him” I say, thinking about the dinner we have to attend in one hour.

“Me and you both” Azriel agrees, before sliding his tongue into me, earning a loud moan.

——————

“Geez I can practically smell what you’ve been doing from over here” Cassian says, putting a hand over his nose jokingly.

Me and Azriel just landed in the front veranda of the House of Wind, all dressed up for the dinner Rhys insisted we have.

I shoot Cassian a death glare, bumping into him on purpose as I walk past him.

“For your own sake. Keep your mouth shut Cass” I hear Azriel tell him as he follows me inside.

Everyone is seated at the dinner table, all dressed up. I take a seat next to Nesta, Azriel sitting next to me. Cassian comes in a moment later, sitting himself beside his mate.

I suddenly notice everyone staring and grinning at me and Azriel. Of course they know. They’re our family.

“You enjoyed yourself today?” Rhys smirks widely.

“I will literally murder you” I threaten him, but he just laughs.

“Your bond is really fucking strong. It almost makes me dizzy” Mor adds, looking over at me and Azriel.

I knew the mating bond was strong, but not as strong as they’re implying.

“It enhances itself once it’s been fulfilled. That’s why we can sense it so easily” Amren explains, looking between me and Az.

“Well I wanna say congratulations y/n and Azriel. You both deserve it” Feyre smiles at us both.

She is way too kind to be mated with the arrogant, baby high lord, Rhys.

“Thank you” Azriel smiles slightly at her.

“So how did it all happen? What made you finally give in?” Rhys asks, as he pours himself some wine.

“Do you need to know all the details?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

He just smirks at me, taking a sip of his drink.

“It was me” Azriel speaks up from beside me.

Everyone turns their heads to him, including me.

“What do you mean Az?” Mor questions.

“My stupid drunken ass kissed her when we got home from Rita’s” he tells everyone.

Several gasps echoes through the room. I myself let out a little sound of surprise.

“Damn Az…I don’t expect that. How did you handle that y/n?” Cassian asks me.

They’re all looking at me. Awaiting my response.

“I kissed him back. Only for a few seconds though until I got my shit together” I say.

“And then you just went to sleep?” Nesta ask confused.

I nod my head at her.

The other seem kind of confused as well, looking at us weirdly.

“And then when I woke up, I kissed her again. But she didn’t resist me that time” Azriel smiles proudly.

I roll my eyes, and hit him in the arm playfully. He just stifles a laugh.

“And then what…” Feyre asks intrigued.

Rhys raises his eyebrows at his mate’s sudden interest. But she just keeps her gaze on me and Azriel.

“And then the bond snapped together. I think you know what happens next…” I say, grinning a bit at the last part.

Azriel goes red out of embarrassment at my slight exposing. Cassian just throws his head back with laughter, and the others snicker as well.

“Well I just lost my appetite” Amren says, pushing her plate away.

“Please like you were gonna eat any of that anyways” Mor tells her, still kind of laughing.

Amren just rolls her eyes and glares at her, but Mor doesn’t seem a tiny bit bothered.

As the laughter quiets down, everyone starts pouring food onto their plates. Except for Amren. And the conversation flows back to other things.

Azriel puts his hand on my thigh, letting it rest there. And I don’t feel a tiny bit uncomfortable, as I let it stay there for the rest of the dinner.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #inner circle #feysand #nessian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #fanfic

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satorusugurugurl · 7 months ago

Note

Never got a request for them you say…

I know i request way to fucking much but I can’t help myself I love ur writing🫶

Butttt hear me out adult trio gojo geto shoko with fem reader. I’m thinking professional reader, who has an exhausting but rewarding job comes home exhausted, but her 3 lovers cheer her right up <333

Could be fluff or smut, I just need them in my life Fr

-🍭

Welcome Home!

Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Shoko Ieiri, FAB!Reader

Word Count; 2,853

Warning: overworked reader, nipple play, oral sex, praising, making out, achohol consumption, Geto in a fucking apron has me FERAL

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had lots of fun with this one 🥵🌶 Spicy loved it 1000000/10 would recommend.

Everything hurt, from your feet to your back, as you exited your car, the garage shutting behind you. You had been gone for twelve hours, leaving at six and getting home when you'd left this morning. But you couldn't complain. Your business had taken off, and as CEO, you had responsibilities to take care of, which tended to keep you away from home longer than you'd like, but the paycheck was worth it.

You had started your own candle company in college. Book tropes, characters, and television series inspired the candles you made. Your shop had been small, and you were content with that. Until your partners suggested advertising on social media, reaching out to authors, broadening your horizons. You hadn't expected much, maybe a couple of dozen more orders, a few rejection letters from said authors. What you hadn't been expecting was for your products to go viral, and several authors jumped at the opportunity to commission you for custom character candles.

Your tiny little shop became a big-time shop so fast it had your head spinning. You shipped orders worldwide, made custom customer orders, and were featured on several podcasts. Your company was close to being a multimillion-dollar company with several locations. While exciting, and you didn't need to worry about money, it was exhausting. Long hours, dozens of meetings, and business trips were your new norm; it came with the title CEO. You loved your job! There was, however, one downside.

You missed the fuck out of your partners.

With your position, you could take care of the house payment and utilities. Allowing your partners to do whatever they want without worry. Shoko was studying to become a surgeon, Geto was working on a novel, and Satoru was your biggest investor; seeing as he was from a wealthy family, he could do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to help your company grow. Things were perfect; it justified you working so hard all the time. Some days were more exhausting than others, but it was also gratifying. Your partners could pursue their dreams, and as long as they were happy, so were you.

”I’m home.” You announced mid-yawn, removing your heels and setting them to the side. You ventured into the living room. The condo was clean and tidy, as per usual, thanks to your amazing partners. They took such good care of the house when you were gone.

“Welcome home.” Suguru greeted you from the kitchen. Both the mouth-watering aroma of prepared food and the sexy man stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you for all of your hard work today, Princess.” He wore gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into his signature half up half down style.

The best part of his whole outfit was the apron. Good god, it was illegal! The black apron went around his neck and tied firmly around his waist. It read, ‘My meat is 100% Going In Your Mouth’. It was a gag gift, one you’d need to thank Satoru for purchasing. Suguru was wiping his damp hands on it as he made his way around the island, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

You melted in his embrace, your arms snaking around him as he kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. It’s good to be back.” You sniffed at the air, happily groaning at the scent of food. “That smells absolutely amazing, Sugu!”

“You had a long day, so I made one of your favorites.” You followed him into the kitchen, staring at the four neatly prepared plates of perfectly prepared katsudon and fluffy white rice. ”I was finishing up the salad. It should be done in a few minutes.”

A warm body pressed against your back; the smell of clean linen and musk followed the body's movements behind you as Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder. “I hope so, I’m starving.” The whiny tone that resonated from Satoru had Suguru rolling his eyes at his antics as he chopped up lettuce. “But not as hungry as you probably are. You busted your ass today, as usual.” Soft lips peppered your cheek with kisses.

“It was a very long day.” You reached forward, grabbing a slice of cucumber off the cutting board and popping it in your mouth. “But it’s well worth it.”

“Long day; I guess this calls for some sake,” Shoko added, handing you a glass of chilled peach sake.

You took a long sip, humming at the sweet taste that danced over your tastebuds. “Shoko, what would I do without you?” Your exhausted-looking girlfriend took a long sip of her drink before pressing a kiss against your lips.

”You would be stuck with these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

Satoru pouted, while Suguru just shook his head with an unbothered chuckle. The carefree atmosphere and warm aura had you relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders as the four of you sat down for dinner. While you ate and conversed with them, your partners looked you over while you weren’t paying them attention. Suguru took note of the dark circles under your eyes before looking at Satoru from his peripheral vision. He had noticed the circles along with how your skin appeared paler tonight. Dark and blue-hued eyes focused on Shoko. Her dark brown eyes examined you as she would a patient.

The three of them reached the same conclusion: you were exhausted, burning the candle at both ends. They knew very well how seriously you took your job; your work ethic was nothing to be sneezed at. No matter how sick or tired you were, you constantly pushed yourself to do more, to provide for them. Your motivation was fueled by positive forces, and there was nothing wrong with being driven by a goal.

However, the moment your goal began to run you down, that’s when you had a problem. You needed a break—some time to rest properly and recuperate. The three of them set their plan into action just with mirror eye contact.

“All right,” Suguru stood, collecting the dishes off the table, “Satoru and I will clean the kitchen. Shoko, why don't you take our sweet girl and get her relaxed?”

“Oh, don't be silly, I can help.” You followed them, collecting dishes that were snatched away from you by Satoru. “Hey, I can help!”

Shoko gently grabbed your hand, her slender, delicate fingers interlacing with yours, pulling you towards the bedroom. “It’s not a matter of you being able to help or not; we all know you’re perfectly capable of that.” Shoko gently squeezed your hand before pushing you back against the bed. “It’s more of a matter that we want to take care of you.” Those same soft fingers that had gently held your hand began working at the buttons of your blouse. “So please don’t fight us on this. You’re exhausted.” Your chest moved up and down, your steady breathing quickening as she exposed your torso. “Just lay back and relax.”

A breathless sigh escaped you as her soft hands groped your breasts in both hands, squeezing the soft mounds. “A-alright, then, let me touch you too.” You reached for her breasts, her nipples erect, peeking through the thin fabric of her white t-shirt. Your fingers just grazed over the fabric, straining against her hardening buds, when she pulled back, out of your reach. “Shoko, why are—” Her lips met yours in a soft, delicate kiss, one that emanated her true intent and desires.

”Have you been hanging out with those two morons too much?” Soft fingers, unclasp the hook in the front of your bra. “What part of ‘lay back and relax’ did you not understand?” Warm caresses of your girlfriend's skin felt like a burning fire over your tingling nipples.

“But I hate not making you feel good.”

“Baby,” Shoko chastised, leaning down, gently flicking her tongue over one of your nipples. “You make our lives comfortable; you do so much for us.” She kitten-licked one of the buds, nearly sending you off the bed. “There will be plenty of other times for you to join in. For tonight, relax and enjoy being a pillow princess.”

You were hesitant to listen to her, but as you relaxed against the bed, you realized just how tired you were. Laying back, your head cradled by the pillow alleviated some of the throbbing pain in your upper back. Plus, you weren’t often told to be a pillow princess, to lose yourself in the pleasure. This might be precisely what you needed tonight.

Without any further protest, you melted against the bed, your hand gently running through Shoko’s long, silky hair as she suckled and nibbled at your nipples while her hands massaged your breasts. I felt so good to be touched so gently. It was a drastic contrast to the boys, who roughly groped and nipped at your sensitive breasts. No matter how many times they saw your breasts, they were still the teenage boys you met nearly a decade ago. Breasts were, and always would be, some of their favorite things. Shoko, on the other hand, knew what felt good, how to get those little moans and whimpers to escape your mouth. If the woman was given the chance, she very well could make you orgasm from your nipples alone one day.

”Oooh my god, S-Sho—” That day was today, “Shoko, f-feels so good, really good.” Your nails gently grazed her scalp before you tugged on the strands of her hair. “H-Holy shit.”

Your girlfriend giggled, sending vibrations to stimulate your already sensitive nipples. “Yeah? Feel good—“ her pink tongue swirling tantalizingly slow around them, “so good you’re going to cum like this?” A tiny whimper was the only response she received. “Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, baby.” She groped both your breasts, pushing them together, allowing her to suck and nibble at both your nipples at once. “Cum for me.”

Shoko pressed her knee against your clothed center, and that was all you needed to cum. “N-Nggh! C-cumming~ S-Sho! Fuck!” you withered and squirmed, your hips rocking g against her knee, extending the sweet pleasurable waves that rocked you to your core.

She was watching you get off from just the brush of her knee, and her mouth on your tits had Shoko giggling softly. Your face was twisted with pleasure, slowly shifting into a more lax face as you finished riding the waves. Once your heavy breathing turned into soft, content sighs, she pulled back with a grin. She’d like to see the boys try and get you off solely from your tits. Because she knew neither had the patience or skills for that.

“Good job, Shoko.” Your eyes fluttered open as the bed shifted. “Got her nice and relaxed for us.” Shoko sat back, watching as Suguru and Satoru crawled up the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, better?” Satoru hummed as he unzipped your skirt, tugging it down.

“Mhmm, a lot better.” You lifted your ass off the bed. Allowing Suguru to tug your thigh-high stockings down. “Sho always takes good care of us.”

“Mmm,” larger hands forced your legs apart, “I can see that.” Suguru hummed, trailing a finger up and down over the wet spot on your panties. “She made you cum, and you did such a good job.” His fingers hooked under the lace hem and tugged them down, throwing them somewhere across the room.

Suguru’s fingers pulled your wet folds apart, admiring the slick coating of your lips and how your arousal seeped out of your tight entrance. His thumb pulled the hood over your clit back just enough, allowing him to rub sweet, gentle circles around the bundle of nerves. While he teased your clit Satoru nestled himself between your legs, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs up to your dripping sex.

“Mmm, I was wanting dessert.” His hot breath teased your twitching cunt. “Thanks for the meal, sweetheart.” His tongue dipped out, tracing teasing circles of your entrance. His wet tongue and Suguru’s thumb had you gasping, arching off the sheets. Your hips jolted forward, silently begging for more. “So fuckin’ needy~” Satoru growled into your pussy. “Normally, I’d make you beg, but you’ve been working so hard you deserve a reward.” His tongue dipped past your tight entrance, gently swirling it as he licked at your inner walls.

With Satoru’s tongue spearing you, working the muscle inside your pussy, Suguru takes the chance to lean down, kissing and sucking at your swollen nipples. “Fuck, you sound so pretty; make more sounds.” His teeth gently graze over the bud. The sudden sensation made your body jerk forward, here widening as his skilled mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking on it hard.

“Suguru,” Shoko sits on your other side, “try swirling it gently~ like this.” A raspy sigh shakes through your entire body as Shoko demonstrates her technique on your other nipple. “This gets her going.”

“Oooh~ I see now.” The dark-haired man watched Shoko closely, nodding as he observed her momentum. “So I need to do—“ his eyes meet yours as he flattens his tongue, “—this?” His tongue matches Shoko’s face as pressure, sending tingles coursing straight to your pussy, where you clench around Satoru’s skillful tongue.

Blue eyes widen as feeling the gentle spasms of your cunt on his tongue. Your wetness seeped out, coating his tongue, mouth, and chin. “Mmmphmm~ yeah.” His voice is hoarse with unfiltered, pure need. “She fucking likes it~ her cunts hugging my tongue, keep it going.”

Hearing the filthy words, Satoru spoke motivated his best friend. Suguru kept his ministrations up, his eyes darting between Shoko and back to you, doing his best to keep up with her pace, mirroring her movements to the exact inch. In turn, Shoko’s hand dipped down, pressing gently on your lower abdomen.

“S-Shiiit!” You hissed, lifting your head an inch, watching as your three beautiful partners worshiped you. “Ooooh haaah!” You arched, squirmed, and twitched on Satoru’s tongue. Your partner's fingers, tongues, and lips moved faster as you screamed, one hand gripping the sheet as your other hand thrust into Satoru’s hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as you rocked against his face.

“Good girl~” Suguru growled against your nipple. “Goood fuckin’ girl~ cum all over Satoru’s face.”

Shoko nodded her head in agreement, her hand pressing harder against you. In doing so, she put pressure on the coil that was twisting and twisting inside you. Satoru groaned loudly inside of your pussy, feeling your walls twitch slightly around him; the tiny movements had his tongue lapping faster and harder, rubbing against your g-spot with every flick.

The combination of all three of their efforts made you scream and squirt. Coating Satoru’s tongue and face. Watching the stream of clear liquid coat, Satoru’s face had Suguru rubbing your clit faster. Extending your orgasm, making you squirt again again.

“Oooh, that’s it! Good fucking girl!” Suguru praised while Satoru glowered at you. Not in anger or disgust, but in feral fucking need. His mouth and tongue didn’t stop moving as he drank all of you in, working you over the dips and rises of the orgasm that nearly took your life. He only pulled away when you grimaced, shaking at the overstimulation of his mouth, and that only happened because you yanked him out of your pussy.

“Mmm~ such a good girl~” your slack mouth was suddenly being kissed by Shoko before Satoru crawled up, slotting his mouth against yours, allowing you to taste the sticky, tangy essence of your cum. “She was the best, wasn’t she, Satoru.”

The white-haired man pulled back, collecting the remaining traces of your cum with his pointer finger. “She’s the fucking best. No questions asked.” You lazily watched as he offered his finger to Suguru.

“Oooh, thank you.” Dark eyes trailed over you before he smirked, gently wrapping his hand around Satoru’s wrist and leading his finger into his open mouth. You choked on a breath as you watched Suguru bob his head up and down Satoru’s finger, ensuring all of your juices were clean. “Mhmm, so sweet. Shoko, have a taste.” Your girlfriend grinned slowly, leaning over your spent body, kissing Suguru with full tongue to get a taste of you. Their tongues swirled and massaged the other for what seemed like an eternity before they broke the kiss with a string of saliva and your cum connecting their tongues. “Isn’t she delicious?”

“She’s sweeter than the peach sake from dinner.”

With a gargled moan, your head fell back against the pillows as your lovers all leaned over to examine your face. Your pale skin from earlier was flushed a darker shade, your eyes were hazy and distant, and if this were an anime, they were sure you’d be spurting a nosebleed right about now. The trio exchanged knowing glances and gentle smiles. You did so much for them. The least they could do was give you a proper welcome home.

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goosita · 11 months ago

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Ahhhh Thank u so much for writing my request ab Billy dealing w stress!!!! U made my night I fr was kicking my hair and giggling like there was no tomorrow. U & ur writing are everything and more fr <333

Another idea just occurred to me…what would Billy like you to wear? Take this as you will, but I can see him losing his mind over off the shoulder frilly things…maybe….

clawing at the carpet and biting the drywall tbh bc he so would like lace and ruffles make this man fall to his knees !!

i think there’s really two ways this could go. billy has moods, yk?

on the one hand, he thinks you look beautiful in anything you put on. but he has a particular fondness for the days when you meet him out in the meadow, blouse tucked into a well-fitted pair of pants and your riding boots. it means he gets to haul you up onto his horse without the fear of muddying or accidentally tearing any of your pretty skirts or dresses.

he also likes it because he can tell you’re so comfortable in it. the way you move, the way you’re so much less careful. billy can get you seated nice and comfy, your back to his chest and his arms around you as you ride through the tall grass or weave through trees in the woods. he likes the way this particular type of outfit makes you less self-conscious, and makes you feel more free to have fun with him…❤️

on the other hand, this darling man will lose his ever lovin’ mind if you appear before him in soft laces and frills. you’re already always so soft compared to him, when you sit perched on his bed in a little lacy nightgown that barely brushes the tops of your thighs; one that only just falls over your hips. billy is at your mercy and you both know it. his eyes wouldn’t know where to look first, to your shoulders where the delicate ruffles slip down? to your chest, framed so beautifully by the dainty fabric? or to your legs, so neatly folded atop his blankets?

he’d be on you in an instant, laying you back and crowding into your space. billy is a rough man— but not with you. not with his precious angel. his lips are already skimming your throat by the time your head is cushioned by his pillow, his hips slotting between your eagerly spread thighs.

“jesus christ, sweetheart. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes, almost purring against your skin. his teeth nibble at your skin and it makes you giggle; his favorite sound in the world. you can feel his smile before you see it, when he lifts his head and gazes down at you with the most charming and boyish grin. he adores you, and tells you as much before he’s dipping his head back down to smother you in slick, eager kisses that make your head spin.

billy takes his time working you up, littering your body with lovebites and feeling the way you writhe beneath him. it’s not long before he has you gasping his name, pulling at his hair and begging him for things that used to make you blush, things that you used to be too shy to say in front of him. you aren’t shy anymore, though. you know billy will always give you anything you ask for.

your hands reach down to pull your little nightie off, and he growls softly, catching your wrists in his hands and pinning them above your head.

“leave it on, baby. please? for me?”

yeah. yeah, he likes you in anything, but soft frills may be his favorite.

#(smacks head) this baby can hold so many billy thoughts #anon #billy is a simp and a softie and by god he will turn to mush fir you #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #tom blyth #william h bonney #tom blyth x reader

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jeonginsleftcheek · 5 months ago

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happy birthday, love

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 2.0k

warning/s: talk about insecurities and feeling unworthy of love, kinda corny me thinks, not proofread

a/n: i'm soft for him fr🥹🤍 i'm not completely satisfied with this but it's been in my drafts for weeks and it's my birthday soon so this is a little self-indulgent... hope you enjoy.🫶🏻

~check out my: Masterlist

You were never really big on celebrating your birthday. Many people made it seem like it was something so important, so grand when in fact it was just a day like any other. At least, that's how you always viewed it.

You always felt weird receiving gifts and special attention. It made you want to disappear. And it didn't help that every birthday you felt very melancholic, and you don't even know why. Often times, that melancholy would result in overthinking, feeling abandoned and then ofcourse - crying. It wasn't your birthday until you've had a little cry session in your bed.

Maybe it was because of those people who made it look like something worth anticipating, and when the day actually comes - nothing special happens. The world doesn't stop, the sun doesn't shine brighter, the flowers don't look prettier. Nobody and nothing cares. The Earth keeps spinning like it's none of her business.

That's what you told your boyfriend Chan too. You'd only been dating for 8 months but he wasn't afraid to shower you with affection, and you felt bad for not being so out there with your feelings like he is. You felt embarassed enough every time he got you a surprise present just because he thought of you. He knows you struggle with showing your feelings, much less talking openly about them but you really do love him and you are willing to do whatever's in your power to show him that you love him as much as he loves you.

Maybe through a warm meal you prepare for him when he's done with work, maybe with a shoulder to lean on when he's having a tough time, maybe with some good-hearted advice when he needs it, maybe with your embrace when he craves comfort... Maybe with your kisses, slow and intense, passionate and loving, wet and deep.

And you're sure he's the type to throw you a whole ass surprise party, make a grand gesture, buy you many gifts and that's why you begged him before your first birthday together not to do any of that.

Chan respects that, he only fears that you're pushing away his gestures because somewhere deep inside you feel undeserving of them. But he also wants to give you time to think and work through your problems, ofcourse leaning on him whenever you need to. He's always there in a blink of an eye for you.

It's hard for him to hold it in, his desire to shower you in gifts and affection but he doesn't want to seem too overbearing. It's not like he wants to buy your love, he just can't help himself when he sees something cute that reminds him of you, or something he knows you'd like or even something you two can share like a couple item.

He tries not to rush anything cause it took you a long time to even open up to him, he accepts your differences and definitely doesn't want you to change for him. He just wants you to know you deserve to be pampered, loved and gifted.

Chan thinks hard what he could do for your birthday to make it special, but also that it's nothing too grand or crazy at the same time. He knows you hate surprise parties so he crosses those off the list. He tosses and turns in bed, trying not to wake you when suddenly there's a lightbulb above his head.

It's just another Friday. Well, coupled with the fact that it's your birthday and your sweet boyfriend is the first to congratulate you as soon as you open your eyes.

"Happy birthday, love."- he whispers sweetly, his lips pouty and eyes shining as they look at you with so much admiration.

Him by himself was a good enough gift for you, perfect even and you lean in to kiss him as he wraps his arms around you tightly.

"No surprises, okay? I mean it, mister!"- you poke his chest as you part from each other.

"Yes ma'am!"- he smirks mischievously at you as he plays with your hair.

"You're planning something, aren't you?"- you squint your eyes at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."- he moves away to stretch his arms and you sit up.

"Don't joke around, Chan. I told you I don't want any grand gestures."- you say.

"Who said anything about anything grand? Come on, let me make you breakfast, hm? That's not considered grand is it?"- he smirks and pinches your cheek. You swat his hand away whining in fake annoyance at your silly boyfriend.

You could do with breakfast before another stressful day at work.

You're tired, begging for the day to end already and you can't stop thinking about dinner and a nice warm bubble bath when you come home. Maybe even a comfort movie and cuddles with your boyfriend under the blankets.

"Channie, I'm home!"- you yell from the door.

"In the kitchen!"- he yells back, a little too eagerly and your brows furrow in suspicion. Your heart starts thumping in your chest as you walk towards the sound of his voice.

When you enter, you're greeted with a smiling Chan standing next to a table full of food, candles and flowers in the middle.

"What's all this?"- you swallow, your chest tightening.

"Dinner for my birthday girl."- he smiles, coming towards you, his hands gently grabbing yours.

"Ugh, don't call me that. But fine, I'm hungry anyways."- you say and let him lead you to the table.

"M'lady."- he pulls your chair out and you giggle at his antics.

"You made all this for me?"- you ask, looking around the table.

"Yeah, ofcourse."- he looks at you so lovingly that your heart flutters.

"Oh, Channie. You really are too sweet. Thank you."- you say. Even though you hate your birthday, Chan didn't do anything grand just like you asked and you appreciate the work he put into cooking dinner and how mindful he was of your wishes. It makes you appreciate him even more.

"It was my pleasure, trust me love."- he smiles at you and you almost melt into a puddle.

You can see how much effort your wonderful boyfriend put into dinner, making all of your favorites and making them extra tasty, like he spiced it all up with the love he has for you.

"Chan, this is amazing! I didn't know you could cook this well. I don't mean that you're a bad cook!"- you panic, frantically waving your hands around. "This is just different."

"It's okay."- Chan chuckles. "I actually called Minho for advice."- he admits sheepishly, cheeks becoming rosy.

"Oh... Did he tease you?"- you chuckle.

"He teased the hell out of me."- Chan shakes his head, a little laugh escaping his lips.

"Well, we both know he would do the same for his significant other no matter how unbothered he acts."- you say, getting up to get rid of the empty plates.

"Oh no no, you sit down. I will get the plates."- Chan is on his feet immediately.

"Baby, it's really no problem."- you say but he snatches the plates out of your hands.

"Please, sit down."- he pouts a little and well you can't say no to that face.

"Close your eyes."- he adds after he places the dishes in the sink.

"Chan, no... I told you I don't want any surprises! Nothing too crazy..."- you shake your head.

"It's not crazy. Just humor me, okay?"- he says.

"Fine."- you roll your eyes in fake annoyance and then close them, a little smile of anticipation on your lips.

You hear shuffling, then feel Chan's presence closer as he puts something in front of you on the table.

"Open them."- he whispers, closer to you than you think he was.

You brace yourself and open your eyes.

"Is that a cake?"- your eyes widden.

"Yes, it's a cake, love."- Chan chuckles at your cute reaction. "I baked it for you."- he adds proudly.

"You baked me a cake?"- you melt again.

"Lix helped with that but yeah. You said nothing grand... even though I would buy you anything you ask for. But I just wanted to do something for you. Especially after a hard day's work."

Your eyes water suddenly, vision blurred and Chan gasps.

"Baby?! Are you crying?"- he panics, leaning down to take a look at your face, his arm wrapping around your shoulder.

You don't know what made you sob this hard, but you can't even speak, tears flowing down your cheeks and sobs leaving your lips.

Chan doesn't know what happened or if he did something wrong but he wraps his arms around you instinctively, pulling you into a hug. Anxiety washes over him as he rewinds what he said or did to make you so upset. You clutch at his shirt, burying your face in his neck, finding comfort in his warmth.

"I'm sorry."- you lean back after some time, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. Chan shakes his head as he hands you tissues.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You know I'm here for you. I just... wanna know if I did something wrong."- he says, biting on his lip nervously.

"No, no way. You're perfect, Chan. It's me... You go and do all this for me and I feel like an ungrateful bitch crying over nothing. I feel like you deserve someone better, someone who can treat you the way you should be treated. At this point, I don't even know why you're still wasting your time on me."- you spill your deepest feelings out, fearing that Chan will agree with you and you'd be left with nothing then. You barely look into his eyes and he looks hurt.

Why did you have to say that? You should've kept your mouth shut.

"H-how can you say something like that?"- Chan's voice wavers. "Don't you see how wonderful you are? How good you are to me? You may not say stuff outright like I do, but I see that you care for me in all the little things you do. You're always there for me, you cheer me up and believe in me even if I don't believe in myself. You understand me like no one ever did before. Sometimes even without words. You always think of me even when I forget about myself."- he talks, and fresh tears start sliding down your cheeks.

Your chest feels tight, and you blame yourself for upsetting your boyfriend, who has nothing but good thoughts about you.

"And I know we haven't been together for that long. But ever since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one."

"Don't exaggerate."- you hiccup, trying to move away but his arms tighten around you.

"Don't you feel the same?"- he asks quietly and you look at him.

The puppy eye look kills you and you can't help the small smile spreading on your face.

"Ofcourse I do. I love you with all my heart, Chan. I just didn't think you love me so much. And it's really nothing you ever said or did, so don't think it's your fault. It's the stupid inner voice inside my head, telling me I'm unworthy. And whenever my birthday comes around, the feeling amplifies. I keep checking my messages and waiting for people to congratulate me. I cry if I think one person forgot my birthday. And then I feel like no one cares and that I'm all alone. I know it's dumb and it's not true but I can't help how I feel."- you explain.

"Do you feel alone now?"- he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand, his thumb swiping at the tears sliding down.

"No."- you whisper, your eyes fluttering as you lean into his touch.

"Then my plan was successful."- Chan smiles, leaning in closer to you.

"I knew you had something up your sleeve this morning."- you smirk, the sadness inside you slowly fading away.

"See, you know me so well."- Chan says and you giggle, your lips meeting his in a gentle kiss, the love he feels for you pouring from his lips to yours.

"I guess I do."- you smile as you part.

"Technically it's not midnight yet so it's still your birthday."- he starts.

"What did you cook up now?"- you ask and he chuckles.

"How about I prepare you a nice warm bath?"- Chan asks.

"Only if you'll join me."- you smirk.

"I think that can be arranged."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg

#skz x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids scenarios #bang chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan soft thoughts #bang chan soft hours #bang chan

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truetogaia · 2 years ago

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jakes abs yum OMG HE IS SO??

genre: smut, 18+

pairing: soft!dom!Jake sully x fem!na'vi!reader

notes: Jake brain rot so here is a oneshot where Jake takes out his stress on his poor mate who is so obedient and lets him fuck her dumb ♡

warnings: depiction of sex, mature and explicit themes, cock drunkenness, strong language, p in v, no protection, biting.

!Jake Sully masterlist!

Jake had come home from a hunt a few hours earlier, the expression on his face was grim and serious when he stepped through the opening of your home. Immediately, his lips were on yours, tongue eagerly pressing against your rich lips. His hands traveled down the sides of your body frantically, squeezing your hips and pulling you against his body. You could feel his bulge, straining against the fabric of his loincloth.

And now you were stuck under him. Jakes repeated thrusts to your squelching cunt made stars appear in front of your eyes. His hair stuck to his sweating forehead as he angled his hips to hit your g-spot, chuckling at your fucked out expression. He had you on your back, legs spread wide for him, arms tied together as he held them above your head.

Your eyes were in the back of your head, the bulbous tip of his cock hit your cervix every time he pumped his length into you. You managed to open your eyes to view his face. His brows were furrowed, fangs on display. He had been so stressed about the hunt ever since Tsu’tey had asked him to join his party, and when it didn’t go as planned on his part, he was furious. You felt the pent up rage and stress in the ruthless rolling of his hips against yours. But he was careful, not letting his gloomy mood interfere with the severity of his thrusts.

“That’s right, takin’ it so well fr me .” And you couldn’t do much else, the feeling of his cock stuffing and stretching your tight pussy made you dizzy. “Such a good, good girl, yeah?” He bent down to trail sloppy kisses down your burning neck, before biting at the sensitive skin around your collarbone.

Your pathetic mewls and whines fueled his need to make you cum first. He grabbed your thighs suddenly, hoisting them up on his broad shoulders to get a better angle, and view. Your tits bounced deliciously as he fucked himself deeper inside of your sopping cunt. He loved how obedient you were, how you so eagerly took everything he gave you with no questions.

A familiar, coiling tension started building in your abdomen, and Jake could sense it by the way your gummy walls tightened so pleasantly around his aching cock. He moved one of his hands to play with your neglected clit, feverishly rubbing his thumb over the swollen bundle of nerves.

“You wanna cum, baby?” You nodded eagerly, pussy throbbing at his words, head spinning from the overwhelming pleasure. Usually, he would edge you until he deemed your behavior worthy of that sweet release, but now he felt his own orgasm coming on at the sight of your beautiful features contorting in pure bliss and pleasure. “Then cum for me, yeah?”

The new position made it easier for Jake to increase the tempo of his thrusts, they soon grew frantic and desperate as he chased his own high. The knot of arousal in your stomach snapped and slick gushed from your drenched cunt. Your walls spasmed and clamped down on his length and Jake’s breathy moans came to a halt as he came inside of you.

“There you go baby.” You felt him pull out and caress your jaw before planting a soft kiss to your swollen lips. Slumber took over your mind, your body exhausted by the weight of your crashing, heavy orgasm. “My sweet girl.”

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ayyy-pee · 11 days ago

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𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟤 - 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐻𝒶𝒹 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter

Pairing: Hotel Heir Satoru Gojo x Club Heiress Female Reader Genre: Fake Dating/Arranged Marriage AU/Rivals to Lovers

WC: 7.4k

Story Summary: One unforgettable night out leads to a lifetime tethered to the one man you absolutely can't fucking stand. The feeling's mutual, but now you both have to find a way to make it work in your favor.

You and Satoru's parents give you an ultimate that you both quite literally cannot afford to refuse.

Story Warning: Fake Dating, Arranged Marriage, Profantity DUH, Gojo and Reader being fucking bratty and annoying, Slow Burn, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior. Smut Maybe? (probably), No Y/N usage here, Gojo is such a shithead here fr LMAO

Art by: nameissiyo on X

A/N: I have been having so much fun writing this little shit LMAOOOO

You slowly enter your apartment in a daze, dragging your feet along before slipping your shoes off at the door. You’ve just had a bomb dropped on you, metaphorically blowing up your entire world and you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to wrap your head around it. Your mind replays the conversation – well, the demand from your father. There was no actual conversation to be had. You were doing what was asked of you.

Point blank period.

------

“Daddy, please don’t do this to me,” you begged, knowing your pleas were falling on deaf ears. “I’ll clean up my act, I swear.”

“It’s far too late. I’ve given you multiple chances to get it together. I’ve let you do whatever you wanted for too long. This is the push you need to grow up, to take this seriously. Starting with you taking on a position within the company and learning the inner workings. And you will let Satoru court you, and you will marry him.”

Your head was spinning. “Daddy…you don’t understand. I can’t marry Satoru.” Even his name on your tongue tastes vile. But that may also be all your emotions working their way out of your gut.

“Why is that?” Your father asked.

‘I just don’t like him!’ It’s what you wanted to scream. Or even ‘He’s insufferable and fucking annoying!’, you already knew it wasn’t a valid enough reason for your father.

“I just…” you racked your brain for reasons that you think your father would accept. None come to mind, because to him, you didn’t need to like your partner to make things work.

Your father scoffed, shaking his head. “This marriage will go through,” he told you. “And so will this merger, because it is contingent on your marriage to Satoru.”

The trembling in your lips returned with a vigor and you plead once more. “But why? Why do we have to get married in order for the merger to go through? I’ll learn about the company, I’ll take on a formal position, I’ll party less and do more, that’s fine! But marrying Satoru? Why does that make a difference?!”

“They have their reasons,” your father states. “and honestly, I can’t say I disagree with them. That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You were back to begging for your father to take pity on you, to let you get away with just this one last thing and you swore you’d never fuck up again, never make the company look bad. But he didn’t budge. He didn’t even look in your direction. He simply turned away from you, ignored the fat tears and black mascara that ran down your cheeks and onto his pristine, white marble floors and went back to his desk. He sat down and went about his day like you weren’t standing to the side muttering that you didn’t want to do this, that you’d do anything else but this. He picked up his phone and dialed his secretary.

“Nitta, please patch me through to CEO Gojo. Thank you.” You stood, rooted to your spot as you listened to your father practically sell you off to the Gojo family in exchange for a chance to continue his quest to build his empire. You were simply a pawn here.

------

This is unbelievable, a nightmare! You even pinch yourself, hoping that this is all just a very bad dream and you’ll wake up in your bed, but you’re still standing in your living room and feeling the weight of the situation on you.

One night. One stupid night out after you let dumbass Utahime and Shoko convince you to do something that you’re now going to have to spend your entire life paying for.

Your father spent a good hour on the phone with CEO Gojo working out the details of this arrangement. You’re to meet with the Gojo family sometime within the next few weeks for dinner at their estate. You’ll hear from CEO Gojo’s secretary so they can pencil you in for some time with your future in-laws. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Why do you have to marry Satoru Gojo? He’s one of the most obnoxious and annoying men you’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. The two of you have only ever had maybe a handful of interactions and each one was a disaster.

There was your first meeting as teenagers…

------

Your families and many others of the upper elite had gathered together to honor the late Chairman and CEO at the time, Satoru’s grandfather. While the elder Gojo had not been involved in company matters for some time, he hadn’t stepped down as Chairman and CEO officially until now. His son, the current Chairman and CEO had been acting as the interim for years before they finally announced it. Tonight, they were setting things in stone, making a statement to the public that the line will be continuing and Satoru will now be next to inherit the position as head of the company.

“Thank you all for joining us,” the elder Gojo says. “If you’ve been invited here, it’s because we hold you in close regard and want you to be here to witness this transition - me finally being able to pass the torch on to my son.”

At this, Satoru’s father stands from his seat on stage and comes forward to join his father. You didn’t miss the way his eyes seem to scan the room, likely searching for someone. The older Gojos drone on, and you tune out. You’ve always found these things to be boring. Of course, at sixteen years old, you would have loved to be anywhere else in the world than at some stuffy corporate party full of old people, but your father was out of town trying to close a deal and your mother went with him.

The invitation specifically requested the families of these companies, and so you were stuck acting as the company representative in your father’s stead.

“I hate these things,” a soft voice whispers from across the table, and your eyes rise from the intricate patterns on the fancy tablecloth you’ve been staring at the last several minutes to meet kind, violet orbs and a mischievous feline smile staring at you. “I’m Suguru…Geto.”

He tacks on his last name like he’s reluctant to say so, but mainly like it means something to you. You don’t really care who’s who here, but like you, it seems Suguru’s been practically trained since birth to network and make connections, to know every face you come across. You rack your brain for the last name Geto, and when nothing seems to come to mind, he fills in the blank for you.

“Geto Holdings.”

Right, the real estate conglomerate. If you remember correctly, Suguru is an only child, just like you, so he’s also meant to take over if his parents deem it so.

You give Suguru your name and watch his brows rise, impressed with the family you hail from.

“Well…” he sighs, leaning back in his chair and taking you in. “Pleasure to meet you. We should exchange info after this.”

You nod, the tiniest smile curling at the corners of your mouth. “Yeah…yeah, I’ll get your number after.”

You two leave it at that, turning your attention back to CEO Gojo. He talks on and on about how honored he is to be taking over the company. How he’s been raised to do this and it’s all he’s known, that he can’t wait to make his father proud. He also shares some of his plans for the company going forward, which means absolutely nothing to you. Gojo Hospitality exists in a whole different world than your father’s company. Whatever plans CEO Gojo had in store, you couldn’t care less about.

It’s when he’s about to wrap his boring speech up that a loud ruckus at the entrance of the ballroom grabs everyone’s attention. The new CEO Gojo’s jaw clenches, watching long legs carry a young man across the room.

“Sorry I’m late!” The intruder practically yells, buttoning his wrinkled dress shirt sloppily. His white hair is messy, almost like he just woke up from a nap. But you doubt it with the way he’s struggling to get through to the front of the ballroom.

You’ve been to enough rich kid teenage parties to know he’s wasted.

“Shit,” you hear Suguru hiss, standing from his seat and watching the boy make his way across the room.

The boy stumbles up the steps of the stage, joining the Gojo family, and you think he must be the son. Satoru, you believe his name is. He makes his way to the older Gojo who wears a tight smile on his lips, as he reaches for the boy once he’s closer. He leans away from the mic, wrapping his arms around the boy, lips beside his ear, whispering. And whatever he says to the young man works, the glassy look in his eyes vanishing and replaced by hardly concealed disdain.

It’s all awkward and suddenly tense in the room, the atmosphere thick as molasses. You hadn’t even noticed that Suguru had left his seat and went to grab the boy, hauling him back to your table where he plops him down in the seat right in front of you.

The party resumes, the new CEO Gojo continuing with his speech, not even bothering to address what just took place.

Suguru says your name, smooth and already familiar. “This Satoru Gojo. Satoru, this is ___.” Suguru takes a seat beside him, not even giving you a chance to truly introduce yourself because he instructs Satoru to “just shut the fuck up and they can leave after his dad’s speech.”

You’re just sitting there, thinking that you’ve just been casually introduced to the son and heir of one of - if not the largest - hospitality companies in the world. If your father were here, he would be thrilled. This is your chance to act like you give a little bit of a damn about the company and get to know Satoru.

But as you watch him, all scrunched brows and pouts, you feel a little bad for him.

He looks visibly deflated after receiving what you think was one hell of a scolding from his father, cheeks red and blue eyes downcast, staring into his lap. This is the first time you’ve seen this guy. Most large gatherings of the upper class that you had been to, he wasn’t present for. Or maybe you just hadn’t noticed him, which you think would be rather difficult given his unique appearance; striking azure eyes, snowy tresses and freakishly long legs. Yeah, he’d be hard to miss.

You don’t realize that you’ve spaced out yet again, staring at the boy who has just made quite a scene, and seems to be in the mood for another.

He’s grinning at you, all crooked and goofy looking. “Like what you see, Princess?” He teases, elbow on the table with his head resting in his palm, and it’s enough to snap you out of your trance. You sneer at his lack of manners.

“Pardon?”

Satoru chuckles, nudging Suguru with his elbow and his friend doesn’t seem to find anything amusing.

“Pardonnnn?” He mocks you in a sweet voice, followed by him snorting. “So cute when you all play dumb.”

Beside him, Suguru mutters quietly, “Satoru, that’s enough.”

You’re still in shock, can’t seem to wrap your head about this boy practically calling you stupid. How dare he? When he’s late, drunk at his own family’s party and has his elbows on the table!

If your mother were here, she’d have a conniption seeing this.

“Aww, come on, Suguru,” Satoru slurs, gaze piercing into you as he looks you up and down, assessing you. “I mean, she’s not really my type - new money and all,” he waves his hand in your general direction, laughing when he does so.

New money. That’s what those who want to insult your family say. It’s referring to the fact that your father only came into his wealth about 30 years ago, when he took a chance on some rundown shitty building in Shinjuku and opened the first Club Echo that ended up skyrocketing in popularity and launching your father into the same playing field as those who had been in possession of extreme wealth for far longer than him.

Whereas Satoru's grandfather's grandfather had started Gojo Hospitality from the ground up, slowly building it into the empire it is today. They’re the definition of old money, richer than rich. You’re not even on the same playing field.

It doesn’t seem like the boy in front of you wants to let you forget that.

“Stop it, Satoru,” Suguru chides, gripping onto his friend's arm who snatches it back.

“Why? You want her?” He asks, and your eyes widen which only makes Satoru laugh. “I mean you did see her first…but wow, she's got a cute face, so maybe I’ll make an exception and take her for myself.”

‘You’re here to represent your family, your father,’ you have to remind yourself. You are to be on your best behavior, or it won’t bode well for you when your father gets home. You’ve made it through a good majority of this snoozefest tonight and you only need Satoru’s father to hurry and finish his speech so that his son can get the hell away from you.

But with the way Satoru continues to grin at you teasingly, leaning his gross arms on the table, you feel your patience begin to wear thin. You try to ignore him, no longer giving him your attention like he wants and instead focusing on his father and the words coming from his mouth, hoping his speech ends soon, but it’s to no avail.

Especially when Satoru’s long legs stretch beneath the table and stomp right on the toe of your Manolo Blahnik’s and you feel any semblance of restraint snap.

Satoru peeks beneath the table, always so crude, it seems, and you snap your legs shut because you’re wearing a damn dress! Does he have no manners at all? Apparently not, because Satoru only offers a hum when he sits back up, shrugging. “My bad, Princess.”

Your dad will surely understand that you’ve killed the Gojo heir, right?

You close your eyes, inhaling sharply as you slip your foot out of your shoe. Reaching for the heel, you hold it in your hand to see the large scrape of Satoru’s big ass Louboutin oxfords sitting right on the tip. You’re trembling with rage, glaring at the man on the other side of your table as your fingers wrap around your shoe, purposely leaving the heel part exposed.

In the fifteen minutes since you’ve met Satoru, he’s continuously added into the reasons you’ve decided that you don’t like him. He’s insulted your intelligence, spoke about you like you were a piece of meat to be torn apart between him and Suguru, insulted your family and now, he’s committed the worst crime of all in your book - scuffed your brand new shoes that you bought just for this stupid event.

Wide eyed, Satoru chuckles nervously, forcing a smile to his face. “Come on, it’s not that big a deal. I’ll replace them!” He offers, no apology anywhere to be found.

Rude – another thing to add to the long list.

Fuming, your teeth grind together as you murmur, “They’re vintage.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, pretending to yawn. “They’re just shoes.”

Uncultured – another thing.

Satoru sighs, reaching into his pockets and pulling his wallet out, pulling his black card out and holding it out to you. “Vintage or not, I’ll replace them. If you can’t afford it, you can just say so.”

Fucking asshole – and it’s the last reason you need.

“I’m going to gouge your eyes out and wear them as earrings,” you promise him, and the bastard leans forward, amused again.

Satoru smirks up at you, fluttering his lashes. “They’re pretty, right?” He winks, head tilting when he asks, “Wanna wrestle for ‘em?”

You quickly rise to your feet, chair falling back and slamming onto the floor loudly as you reach across the table for Satoru, only managing to snatch a clump of hair from his scalp and he howls in pain. The sound is so satisfying, you can’t help the obnoxious laugh that escapes you.

“What the fuck?! Over some shoes?!” He screeches, hand pressed to the sore spot on his head.

You ignore the gasps and wide eyes that stare, the hard gaze of Satoru’s family on the back of your head as you try to get to their son. Satoru leans back in his seat, scowling briefly at you before it’s replaced with another smile, only fueling your anger.

Does he take anything seriously? There’s no apology, no remorse, just an asshole sitting in front of you probably thinking he can flash his pearly white teeth at you and you’ll fall to your knees even if he does insult you and your family.

You couldn’t be less interested in Satoru Gojo, and after meeting him, you’re absolutely certain that there’s zero chance you’ll ever care about him.

“Satoru…” Suguru chides. “You need to apologize.”

At this, Satoru scoffs. “No. She’s fucking insane! Trying to kill me over some ugly old shoes, and I should apologize?”

No, you’ll never give a single damn about Satoru Gojo. But you are interested in knocking his head off his shoulders.

“They’re vintage!” You shriek in response, lunging for Satoru again, but this time Suguru is there to intercept, grabbing a hold of your wrist and pulling you across the table into his arms.

You stare up at him, all anger melting away when you meet his violet eyes. He leans down, lips grazing your ear as he urges, “Stop. In about ten seconds, security is going to barge in here and drag you out and I don’t think your family would like that image plastered across the blogs.”

His words feel like ice cold water, dousing the flames raging inside you. He’s right. Your family would certainly not appreciate opening their phones and seeing pictures of you scalping the Gojo boy on front page news.

“If you walk out with me now, you can leave with your dignity still in tact. I’ll offer an apology to the Gojo’s on your behalf–”

You make a disgusted face, and Suguru shakes his head.

“Trust me, it’s in your best interest if I do.” He glances up, seeing the security team entering the room. The Gojo’s assistant points in your direction and Suguru holds a hand up, effectively stopping them for a moment. “Walk out with me, and let me handle everything else after.”

So you inhale deeply, let Suguru slink his arm around your shoulders and bow, apologizing to everyone for what just transpired. Of course, Satoru remains seated. His face is already checked out, scrolling on his phone instead of offering an apology to you in return, let alone to his own family. You’re tempted to snatch a few more strands from his head, but when Suguru brings you closer to his body in an attempt to calm you again (which works), you decide it’s better to just take your leave.

------

That was your very first time meeting Satoru Gojo. And every run in after went just as well.

Satoru spilling a drink all over your new dress “on accident” that you just know will stain at an art gallery event that your parents had insisted you attend, and you digging your stiletto heel right into his foot, earning an echoing yowl. Suguru was kind enough to offer you his suit jacket. The gesture made Satoru roll his eyes, and the blogs couldn’t wait to fuel rumors of you and Suguru dating when a picture dropped from the event showing him giving you the clothing.

There was also the time Satoru reserved all the VIP tables at your families club, and you had to party amongst the commoners when he refused to give a table to you and your friends. “Sorry, got a super important thing happening here tonight. Need every seat,” he had told you with a mocking pout on his face, only for you to find out later that it was just him and about four other people the entire night! And you couldn’t do anything about it because of course, according to your father, the customer always comes first and there are plenty of other places for you to hang out.

And you’ll never forget running into Satoru while you were on a date and him telling the man that you “have quite the temper” and then proceeding to take a seat and tell him of all the negative interactions you two had had. All of it made your date look at you differently, the image of the sweet and kind girl he was getting to know now skewed thanks to Satoru’s words. He ended up ending your very short lived relationship only a few days later.

You hate Satoru Gojo. It’s not an exaggeration. You truly, absolutely hate him.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, and you like it better that way. You stay in your little bubble, and he stays in his, and any time your bubbles threaten to meet, you’re quick to change paths. Satoru obviously doesn’t like you either, and you weren’t too proud to say that you were happy the feeling was mutual.

It’s starting to sink in now. The fact that soon you’ll have to see Satoru again when you haven’t had to be in the same room in years. Worse, you’ll have to see Satoru everyday for the rest of your damn life. Your hold on your purse handle tightens until you’re shaking. And then your purse is flying across your living room, smacking against the wall and falling to the floor along with all the contents of your purse. A piercing shriek erupts from you as you finally let your rage out.

This is hell.

------

“You're what?!” Suguru practically shrieks on the other end of the phone.

“I'm getting married apparently,” Satoru repeats, boredly as he slips off his shoes in the foyer.

“...To ___?…The Heiress…of Club Echo…”

“Yeah, I said that already.”

Suguru clears his throat. “I just wanted to make sure I was hearing you right.”

Satoru’s brows rise in amusement. “You jealous? You guys used to hook up, didn’t you?”

There’s a brief beat of silence before Suguru mutters, “That’s what the tabloids say.” He sighs, and Satoru knows he’s doing that thing where he frantically runs his fingers through his hair. “And no. Not jealous. Just…shocked she agreed to this.”

Satoru frowns. “Why wouldn't she? She gets to marry into my family, which is like…the biggest sell here. Not to mention she gets to be with me. Other girls would kill to be in her position.”

“Yeah, sure. You're such a catch,” Suguru deadpans. “But ___ fucking hates you.”

Satoru snorts, shaking his head as he fiddles with the buttons of his shirt. He slips it off, only just noticing the smudged pink lipstick on the collar. He rolls his eyes and tosses it aside. “Nah, she’s had a crush on me for the longest. Trust me. That’s why she’s so mean to me. It’ll just suck for her I guess, since I don’t like her like…at all.”

At this, Suguru bursts into laughter, making Satoru’s frown deepen the longer this goes on. “You’re such a child,” he says. “No, Satoru. She actually fucking hates you. Like, if she hears you’re showing up somewhere she’s at, she will leave because she can’t stand to look at you.”

Satoru falls back onto his sofa, scowling. “You guys really were hooking up, weren’t you? I feel like that’s the only way you’d even know that.”

“You jealous?” Suguru teases him back. But Satoru shrugs off his friend’s words.

“No. I don’t need her to like me to marry me. It’s a business contract essentially. If this wedding goes through, my dad will get the hell off my back, at least for a while. She doesn’t need to love me, because it’s not like I’m gonna love her either.”

Suguru hums. “And if that changes?”

Satoru scoffs. There’s no way that’ll happen. You guys don’t really know each other, don’t care about each other in the least, truly can’t stand each other. It’s a marriage of convenience for your parents and their companies. Love has nothing to do with it. Satoru isn’t interested in loving you, or even learning to love you. And if Suguru is correct in saying that you really do hate him, then you probably feel the same way.

But Suguru’s question hangs in the air. What if it does change? What if you do fall in love with him? Or worse, he falls in love with you? Unlikely given your off putting personality and your vapid interests. Seriously, you almost killed him over a shoe at one point. Even still…

He can’t risk it.

“No chance of that happening. I’ll make sure of that.”

Suguru changes the subject, droning on and on about the multiple business trips he’s set to take this month. He’ll be leaving for Singapore in about four days, on Monday and from there he’ll head to Jeju Island, and then to America for a week. He takes his meetings seriously, works hard and actually makes his family proud.

In an ideal world, Suguru would have been born the heir of Gojo Hospitality. He actually enjoys the inner workings of the business world and was eager and ready to begin his apprenticeship with his parents and learn what it would take to run his family's company. Even as teenagers, Suguru was like this. He knew exactly what he wanted out of life. His family didn’t pressure him to take over, it was the path he chose for himself.

Satoru, on the other hand, never cared much to know about how business worked. He liked living life the way he saw fit and doing what he wanted. And his father and grandfather had let Satoru do whatever he felt up until now. Suddenly, he had no choice in the matter. But he supposes he never actually had a choice in the first place. It was all a dream they let him have until they were ready for him to wake up.

He was the only child, only son of his parents. He was always meant to take over the company. He just doesn’t understand why he has to marry someone – marry you – to do so.

“Did you hear me, Satoru?” Suguru calls for his friend.

“Huh?”

Suguru says your name, and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“What about her?”

“You should reach out. She’s probably not happy about this, either. It may help to meet up and see if you can at least be on the same page about this whole arrangement, at least get on good terms. Maybe apologize for being a dick every time you’ve seen her. I’m sure it’ll make things easier for the both of you.”

Again, Satoru rolls his eyes. Of course Suguru is worried about making things less of a headache for him. He’s a good friend, always has been. But it seems he’s always been a good friend to you as well, if the way he’s looking out for you is any indication. Satoru isn’t sure what to make of Suguru’s concern for you. But all of that can be handled later. Suguru is right. He needs to meet up with his fiancée.

It’s been a long time since Satoru has seen you, in person at least. Sure, he’s seen you on your mutual friends' social media posts (he’s blocked on your actual page), or when you make rare appearances for your family’s business and it gets posted online. He’s even seen you on the blogs in passing when he’s scrolling through to see what’s been written about himself. Though he’ll never admit that last part.

“Yeah, okay. Fine. Send me ___’s number – I know you have it – and I’ll text her.”

Shortly after ending his call with Suguru, Satoru reminisces on the day’s events.

------

Soft moans, and wet kisses can be heard through the door of room 601.

“Satoru, we shouldn’t…” a woman whines into his ear, though she kisses along his neck the way she knows he likes. “I could get fired…”

Satoru chuckles, nudging against the woman’s face so he can switch places with her, now nipping and sucking along her neck, surely leaving marks along the way. His hand skirts up her thigh, hiking her leg up and wrapping it around his waist. He rolls his hips forward, pressing the evidence of his arousal against her core, and pulling a whimper from the woman.

“I’ll never let them fire you,” Satoru swears against her skin, popping open her uniform blouse’s buttons until he can see the swell of her breasts. “You’re my favorite maid here. They can fire anyone else, but not you.”

The woman moans, hands tangling in Satoru’s hair as he leans down to plant kisses between her breasts. He groans at the feeling of her nails on his scalp and just as he’s about to dip a finger into the cup of her bra to expose her nipples, the irritating sound of beeping, followed by a door opening halts his movements.

With a sigh between the woman’s bosom, Satoru stands straight, his nimble fingers fixing her shirt as she hurriedly makes herself look presentable. When she’s set, she gets back to her tasks just in time for another woman to enter the space.

The other woman sighs, eyes roaming the scene – Satoru leaning seemingly innocently against the wall while the maid pretends she’s been cleaning the entire time. But for Satoru, this is normal, so she clears her throat and proceeds.

“Your father would like to see you,” she states simply. His father sent his assistant after him, it seems.

“Why?” Satoru moves from the wall, not sparing a glance back as he moves past his father’s assistant and out the door. “And don’t lie, Manami.”

Manami shakes her head, hurrying to catch up to Satoru. “I honestly don’t know. He just asked me to find you.”

“And let me guess…” Satoru taps the elevator button to go down, maybe a little harder than he means to, but the idea of meeting with his father is already an unwelcome one. “He had every hotel management team on the lookout for me so they could report back to him where I was.”

The doors to the elevator open and Manami follows Satoru inside. She wraps her arms around the tablet that seems to be practically glued to her arms these days and taps the screen a few times before turning the screen to him. There’s a map pulled up, a little blue dot blinking on the screen. “You shared your location with me when I first started and you tried to get in my pants.”

Manami hits Satoru with a sly grin, giggling to herself while Satoru stares down at her with wide eyes. “Don’t you remember? You told me, so you can find me when you get off, and I'll show you a good time.”

She imitates Satoru’s voice, making him cringe. That was so long ago. He couldn’t imagine hitting on Manami now, viewing her more as an annoying older sister than anyone he’d want to be intimate with.

“Is that how dad always knows where I am?”

Manami hums. “Makes my life so much easier,” she brags. She turns to Satoru, holding up a finger with an angry face behind it. “Don’t unshare it.”

When they reach the lobby, Satoru’s security team is already waiting for him. They escort him to his car where he climbs into the backseat with Manami, who manages to dodge every question Satoru has regarding what this meeting his father wants is about.

When he realizes he’ll get nowhere with his interrogation, Satoru finally settles for silence, scrolling through his timeline and absentmindedly liking his friends posts.

They arrive at headquarters, the elevator ride a straight shot up to the corporate department. Outside of his father’s office, Manami wishes Satoru good luck, and he knows this isn’t going to be good. He enters his father’s office, taking a seat in front of his desk as he waits to be acknowledged, which unsurprisingly, takes forever. His father doesn’t even bother to look up from his computer as he speaks.

“We’re going to be merging with Club Echo,” he declares.

“...okay? You called me here for that?”

His father glances up just briefly, then resumes his tasks. “This merger is very important, Satoru.”

“We’ve merged with companies before. What’s this one gotta do with me?”

His father’s fingers still on the keyboard, eyes as blue as Satoru’s meeting his gaze. “This merger is arguably the most important we’ve ever had. We need it to go through at all costs.”

Satoru thinks he gets it now. His father needs him to go shmooze up some old bag of bones to make sure they’re happy with the direction this merger is headed. He supposes it’s his way of trusting Satoru, giving him a chance to prove that he’s capable of doing something useful for the company. It wouldn’t be the first time. When Satoru wants to, he’s able to talk up whoever he wants, get his way and close deals. It’s just that most of the time…he doesn’t want to. But this is a big opportunity for him, so he supposes he’ll do it.

It’s almost like a transaction. Satoru does something right, his dad leaves him alone for awhile until he needs him again.

“Okay? So what? You need me to travel somewhere? There’s what? Like thirty Club Echo locations? Which branch am I meeting with? What location are we merging with?”

“All of them.”

“Oh…the entire company?”

Even for a company as large as Gojo Hospitality, this is a big move. Satoru knows this.

“Alright…what do you need from me?”

Satoru’s father leans forward, folding his hands together as he stares his son down. And there’s this sudden dread that washes over Satoru. He has a feeling this isn’t going to go the way he expected. The confirmation comes a second later, when his father speaks.

“I need you to get married.”

------

There was a lot of yelling, and admittedly throwing of items, mainly from Satoru, reminding his father that you’d once tried to kill him over a shoe and threatened to poke his eyes out and use them for jewelry. But it didn’t matter to his father, who just typed away on his computer as Satoru went ballistic.

“That was a long time ago,” was all he offered to Satoru’s concerns. “Move on.”

And when all was said and done, Satoru still finds himself where he is now – on his sofa, staring at your number that he’s now saved in his phone under ????💍 after Suguru sent your contact information to him.

He knows he should follow Suguru’s advice and just call you, ask if you’d like to grab dinner later this week and iron out the details of this arrangement. It would make sense really since this is an arrangement set up by your parents, not one that either of you opted for. Because, let's be real, if given the option, neither of you would have chosen each other to get married to.

Hell, even Satoru’s father admittedly would have chosen someone else for him. But Club Echo was growing and only getting bigger, and the idea of merging the companies and building clubs within hotel locations to create a powerhouse unit among hospitality and nightlife was just way too good of an opportunity for his father to pass up, his son’s happiness be damned. But when had he ever given a shit about that?

Now, he’s here, struggling to decide on whether or not to text his future wife who he doesn’t really care for, and who absolutely despises him.

Suguru’s earlier question rings through Satoru’s mind, asking what he’ll do if the fact that you don’t love each other changes. And Satoru realizes that he has to do everything in his power to make sure that doesn’t happen. He enjoys his freedom, likes being able to do what he wants whenever he wants and with whomever he wants. Having a wife will surely ruin that. But from what he’s seen of you in the blogs, you seem to live a similar lifestyle. He doubts you want to be weighed down by a wedding ring either. It gives him an idea. Perhaps you’ll be more willing to meet up if he has something worth meeting for.

So Satoru hits the text button, writing out a message – because honestly, he doesn’t have the courage to dial your number and hear the hatred out in your voice just yet – and he quickly hits send…multiple times.

SATORU: hey wifey ;) it’s satoru

SATORU: DONT BLOCK ME PLS

SATORU: SAVE MY NUMBER

SATORU: wanna grab dinner next Monday?

SATORU: u kno…talk marriage and stuff

He waits for a response. And waits. And waits.

About forty minutes pass before his phone vibrates, and he doesn’t notice the tiny smirk curling on his lips when he sees your response.

????💍: Could you possibly send more texts?

‘Still snarky as ever,’ Satoru thinks, and more little dots pop up at the bottom of the screen.

????💍: I’m traveling next week. We can have dinner the Monday after to talk over everything. Might as well figure out how we’re going to make this work. 6pm. Don’t be late. See you in two weeks.

Your text is final, not leaving an opening for a response from him. He’s tempted to message you again, just to annoy you, but decides against it. The point of meeting up is to ease the tension before the marriage, not cause more. He’ll just send you a text on Monday of where to meet.

So he puts his phone away, mind going a million miles a second as he thinks of all the ways he could possibly make a marriage work between two people who can’t stand each other.

------

The next two weeks go by much faster than Satoru anticipated, and now he finds himself sitting alone in a rooftop lounge - of your choice, of course - as he waits for you. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling this strange sensation in the pit of his stomach, the idea of seeing you in person after so many years making him feel like he should run. Aside from what’s online, he doesn’t know much about you.

You like shopping, which he could have guessed back when you were sixteen. Given how you reacted when he accidentally stepped on your shoe, he’d say you’re quite passionate about your little hobby. You’re also quite the party girl from what he’s seen online, with rumors always swirling about who you’re dating.

One of them being his best friend. Multiple times, he’s noticed. No matter, though. Suguru was quick to deny the rumors, so there’s nothing to worry about there. Though, Suguru does seem to be pretty aware of your hatred of Satoru. He wonders just how close you two really are. But only for a moment, because it won’t matter in the long run.

Another thing Satoru has noticed about you is that much like him, it doesn’t seem like you’ve ever been interested in the family business. Yes, you occasionally show up to represent your family at certain events, but you have no actual position within the company from what he’s been able to gather. At least Satoru is listed as the Chief Marketing Officer, though he doesn’t do shit. It’s all for show until he hopefully comes to his senses and decides he wants to do something for the company. That’s not happening if he has any say in it, which his father has seemed to pick up on, so it looks like he’s using his son to further his business and keep Satoru tethered to it as well. A bullshit play, but he’s spent the weekend going over what could be done about it.

But you? Your father doesn’t seem to care that you don’t want to be involved, hence all the partying and freedom, so he wonders what it was that got you roped into this mess. It’s something he can try to pry out of you when you get here.

For a second, he lets himself ponder what you’re like in person now. You have somehow managed to avoid any and all events that would have you two in the same room over the last couple of years, so this being the first time you’ve been together and without anyone running interference?…well, Satoru is worried he may be leaving here with yet another bald spot. The one you left him with a decade ago still hasn’t grown back quite the same.

He checks his watch, the clock hitting 6pm exactly, and he glances up to see you strolling towards the table right on time.

Of course, you’re decked out in all the finest that money can buy. He spots the designer heels, expensive gems that cover your ears, neck and wrist. The little dress you sport (which you fill out quite nicely, he lets himself think) looks like something straight off of a runway, and Satoru wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

His eyes take in your features. Your face has changed a bit as well, more mature and he can’t deny, very pretty. But as you meet his curious gaze, he sees those even prettier lips of yours twist in disgust and he remembers then that aside from being rich, the only thing you two have in common is the fact that your parents are basically forcing you to get married.

You stand beside your seat, glaring down at Satoru and he leans back, not daring to look away. Your eyes narrow, darting to your seat and back to him quickly. But you don’t say anything, don’t simply speak up and say what you’re wanting, so Satoru says nothing as well.

It’s a standoff between you two, and he’s not backing down. He could sit here for days, staring up at you with the same smirk that he’s sure gets on your nerves the same way your uppity attitude irks him. He’s not sure what it is about you that makes him want to get under your skin so badly. You’re an annoying heiress just like most of the women Satoru surrounds himself with that just wants to drink and have fun, the same way he does. He doesn’t typically care about any of them, but he’s always found this weird satisfaction in annoying you.

You finally break eye contact, Satoru cheering internally when you figure out he’s not standing up to pull your seat out for you like a true gentleman would. You politely wave the waiter over, ordering a glass of wine for yourself, a brow raising when Satoru doesn’t order anything for himself.

“I don’t drink anymore. Haven’t in years,” he answers the question you don’t ask.

You’re staring at him again, but with less ferocity than when you first arrived. You inhale deeply before you ask, “So…why did you want to meet?”

At this, Satoru points to the stack of papers he has sitting in front of him. “To do business.”

“Business?”

Satoru nods. “I want to propose…” He pauses, having to hold back the laugh bubbling in his chest when your eyes nearly pop out of your head at his words. “...a deal,” he finishes, and you scowl. He doesn’t miss the sigh of relief that leaves you before you slip your businesswoman mask on, a look he’s never seen before.

“What did you have in mind?”

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