#why my hands don't want to cooperate with me?

[sqgeism]

haii!! Can I ask the reaction of amphoreus men to the reader don’t feel like they deserve them and feeling guilty about it? 🙏

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 if i'm turning in your stomach | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; am i making you feel sick ? he's so.. happy with you, and you don't seem to understand. they're in the glory and light as a chrysos heir, what could have possibly be seen in you for them to ever want to share that light?

love mail — haiii anonnie ! thank you for requesting :D in this fic, i mention the very likely theory of phainon being kevin from hi3 ! it isn't a major plot point but it is mentioned so if ure confused dont worry so am i ヽ(´Ａ`)ﾉ love u guys mwah ! 2/5.

now.. anaxa isn't a fan of gossip, accepting words at face value is foolish. especially he is a man from a field of alchemy, trying and testing until he sees results. in this case, the truth.

but when a mutual companion, that babbling blue haired student of his, tells him that you've been feeling rather.. sad recently, he was determined to find out why.

in your defense, you were never meant to have him figure out, but this concoction you were working on was really starting to get on your nerves. you figured anaxa was still at the academy, so you were free to yell at the vial of glowing liquid like you could peer pressure it into getting it to cooperate. "stupid, stupid." you grumbled, your fists curling into a ball on the table. "i hate this, why can't i just... be like anaxa? he must feel ashamed with me. i can't do something as simple as a healing potion, after all."

you know these words aren't true, but you can't completely erase the fact you still feel them. your boyfriend was praised for his expertise in his field, couldn't you at least have learned something?—

it was then that you felt someone press up against your back, head leaning over your shoulder as anaxa sighs. his hands wrap around your waist, looking at your face like you're the moon. "your ingredients are perfect, dove. down to the measurements, but i'm sure your error comes from your order of mixing. listen to me, start with.."

you listen to his guide, trying to perfectly replicate the sequence as he speaks, but it's distracting. he hasn't.. stopped looking away from you while you work. not to mention, his hands trace the curves of your waist, as if keeping your body to memory. his sultry voice in your ear is NOT helping either.

"i heard you, you know." he mumbles, shifting his head to press kisses to your shoulder blades, somewhat relishing the way you shiver.

"do you really think i'd ever focus my time on someone who self proclaims their inadequacy?" you don't answer. "your intelligence is unmatched, dove. i couldn't think of anyone with a brain like yours, while also having a heart kind enough to open a man like me."

his advances move up to your neck, and at this point, the potion is long forgotten. your hands are too shaky to focus anyway. "please.. never think you're not good enough for me. i couldn't handle you leaving me for false truths."

your husband is a literal king, warrior, and an unmovable force.. you wonder why he settled down with an ordinary mortal. you're not quite in the spotlight, and instead, a humble historian. which means you're well versed in mydei's tales, especially ones pertaining to his past. according to rumor; mydei is fated to fall for someone for all of eternity, they were originally a warrior sworn to him, but had died tragically for mydei in the middle of a battle, in fear that the enemy had possibly been able to reach his weakest spot. after a desperate plea from the gods, they had been kind enough to have his lovers soul reborn every time they've come face to face with death. you.. were apparently the first one he's met ever since 'your death'.

and while you're.. comforted by that idea, the fact that you're fated to find mydei in every life you'll live, you also feel.. unsure. had the chrysos heir fallen for you, or for someone you used to be. and you could never really live up to be who you were.

that person was a warrior, one mydei cherished like his other half, and the myths of the two of them are romantic. how he spent hundreds of years mourning them, how they haunted his narrative. could he ever truly love who you are now?

"sweetheart?"

mydei's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you come back to reality—surrounded by your ancient maps and history. you're in your study, staring down at one of the many books written on the chrysos heirs. "are you staring at that old thing again? i told you, i don't like the way they drew me in that book." his laugh makes you feel guilty, you aren't even sure why. something about his love feels undeserving.

when you don't reply, he realizes you're not quite on a page about him.. but about you. your past life.

mydei knows how you feel about it, you've talked about it under the moon with him in hopes that its light will keep your secret safe. but he knows reassurance won't fix your insecurity easily, he needs time, and he'll give you all of it. he's waited to find you for all these years, what kind of man would he be to make you think you're anything less than precious?

carefully turning your body to him, his hand trailing up your cheek as he feels his heart ache. "sweetheart, my darling.." before he can even finish, you lean your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat in silence. "mydei, do you promise.. that this heart is mine? you.. you aren't after someone who i once was, and rather who i am now?"

he knows he'll have time to give you proper reassurance, but he knows you just need a few words now. "i promise, with all i am, that i have fallen in love with you all over again. and that i am yours, body and soul."

with all the mystery that surrounds your boyfriends identity, you can't help but think about it as well. do you.. really know him? does he not trust you to know him? you aren't sure. maybe you aren't as special as you thought you had been, that phainon's sweet words of how much he loves you are.. false prayers.

but you have no reason to doubt him, he's never stayed out too late or hung around people that made you question his motives, he's a good man. and you're starting to think that you don't deserve him for doubting that.

the idea clouds your mind the whole day, and for aeon's sake.. you and him are having a date night at his place. he notices it quickly, how your mind just can't seem to focus. how you move away from his touches and hesitate with every kiss, was there something troubling you? was he troubling you? that's when he's had enough of the lack of communication, he turns off the tv, pulls the blankets down, and gives you a confused but also rather upset look. "honey, what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?

he holds his hand out to you, but you move away, the cold shoulder has never been so sweet. "phai.." you hesitate to finish your sentence, but phainon waits.

he's been known for his patience, he always has been. he was a composed man, a gentleman, he could surely hold himself togethe—

"am.. am i really anything special to you?"

he feels his heart sink to his stomach.

there's an sting that he's never quite felt before, overwhelming his body greatly. he's sure he can hear his heartbeat, or perhaps lack thereof, it's as if his world has stopped at those words.

you've begun to tear up now. "i don't know i just.. the people have been telling me things— and i'm realizing now that i don't.. i don't really know anything about you and.. i.. i'd want to get to know you better, but i understand if you don't want to, and don't trust me but—"

seeing you cry makes him remember something distant, a life he once lived in a different world. making someone he also loved so dearly cry because of what he's done.

phainon crumbles, moving closer to you to wipe your tears. you two are face to face now, his lips only a breath away as he's reminded why he loves you so much.

you're you, so human, so selfless. how could he be blind to your struggle, when he claims to watch you so carefully? "oh, angel. i'm so.. so sorry. there are things i cannot tell you yet, but i can tell you that i could never let my heart be taken by anyone else."

feather light kisses press against your eyelids, and you shudder at the contact. "sweet, sweet angel. please don't cry. i promise i'll make it up to you one day."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[xaer1s]

▹ㅤㅤbite her back ! ㅤ── ⼃[ p. jongseong ]

non-idol!jay x fem!readerㅤㅤsyn ; ㅤ ✶ㅤ1694 wcㅤㅤ─── contains ; nsfw!! [mdni], car s., semi-public, public at the start!! but they don't do anything too bad i swear, bj, light bondage, hair pulling, very VERY dagrading Jay-sorry guys-, dirty talk (idk if i nailed it or no), it's so so filthy guys, not proofread!!; lmk if missed anything & sorry for possible mistakes!!ㅤ♡ ㅤNAViGATiON ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

[ 💭 ] . . . ; writing dirty talk/degradation makes me want to crawl my skin off but I swear I tried my best guys, big warning it might be cringe also lately im struggling from so much writers block its wild...

Soft music buzzed around in the small, crowded place with occasional glass clinking and words exchanged. And there he sat next to you, black all over, sleeves rolled up on his firm forearms; Jay.

The restaurant’s soft orange-tinted light reflected on his honey skin, making him absolutely delectable, his lips shining in deep red, crimson red, his jaw sharp, and the lines of his face resting. His thin eyelashes fluttered slowly at every person situated around the table, except you.

Of course, why would he even spare you a glance when all you do is taunt him?

Right under the table.

You should be really thankful, he’s one with patience like the sea because now, you’d be thrown over the sink in the bathroom with him, quite literally rearranging your guts.

But no. He has self—control. Solid like rock, while your gentle, grazing palm swept over his thighs, ever so subtly.

He didn’t react. Not a flinch, and emboldened, you went further up until the pads of your fingers tapped against the resting bulge in the confines of his slacks.

Jay’s eyebrow twitched for a split second, his words quieted and halted back, letting others take over the conversation, blissfully unaware of your wandering hands.

Pumping his length ever so slowly, you had his mind reeling, “You want them to catch you, huh?..” He hushed, his voice barely audible even to you, right next to him.

Turning your gaze forward, your grip tightens, and his knees jump subtly under the table, barely noticeable.

“See? No one saw that..” Whispering, a smirk curled on your lips, your fingertips grazed the rough leather belt now.

That’s when his hand shot out to take a grip on your thigh. “Stop it.” His digits curled into your flesh, making you silently gasp to yourself, your legs shot together in a futile attempt to stop him.

Just when you were about to bite back, he cleared his throat, making the whole table’s eyes fixated on him in an instant. The small, smug smile crept up his face again the minute you jumped at the attention from everyone, a faint blush coloring the tip of your ears.

For the sake of making everything seem alright, he presses a rushed peck on the side of your cheek, other hand tucking a lock behind your ear ever so gently. “So you want attention, baby?..” Jay mumbled to you.

His movements are slow, his hand sliding off your leg smoothly as you both bid farewell to your friends suddenly, igniting a bit of shock in their chest at your sudden leave, but you play along politely, thoughts stammering over your words a bit. He walked gracefully, almost with no care in the world, not even for you.

As soon as you arrived outside on the cold, harsh night wind, on your flushed skin goosebumps rose, and seemingly his entire demeanor changed in a blink.

He was walking with intention, the palm on the small of your back just pushing you with him, encouraging you to speed up your steps more. Now he was impatient.

Crossing the parking lot in a few strides, not caring about others around or the slowly fading voices from the restaurant, you quickly reached the car.

Tearing the door open, his jaw clenching, he nodded towards the backseat.

“Get in.” Jay didn’t ask, he declared. “What? Is my baby deaf now?” He cooed with a tilt of his head when he saw no cooperation from you, and he straight up grabbed the back of your neck, your legs buckling as he guided you in not—so—gently.

Landing on your knees, the second you glanced up, you were met by the straining bulge inches from your face.

How his hand fisted in your hair, seemingly slipped past your attention, the other working to peel himself out of his slacks.

Once the zipper slid down, the faint dim in the car made the wet patch formed on his boxers visible. It seemed so proud, he seemed so proud of it. Passing his fingers through his tousled hair, he leaned back and made a wider space for you between his legs, pushing his pants a few inches lower on his hips.

If you got the courage to fuck with him in there, now you will take care of it. It’s just the result of your actions.

And now the realization dawned on you, as you were leaning in, hands resting on both of his knees, while his in your hair tugged sharply, your scalp already burning.

Hissing, you glared up at Jay, to which he just mockingly laughed before, with his free hand, he loosened the tie around his neck completely, letting go of you to tug both of your arms behind you, securing them together.

Not resisting, your lust—filled eyes blinking right back at his, parting your lips, your nose bumped against his waist as you tugged the thin fabric of his underwear between your teeth, reverently pulling it past his member, freeing it with a small, obscene slap against your reddened cheek. It curved so beautifully, warm radiating, few prominent veins running along, it made your mouth almost water.

But as you were opening your lips to take him, a yank held you back.

“Tell me.. You want it, hm? Say it. Tell me exactly how you want my dick in your pathetic little body.” But god, you were stubborn and you wished you had held yourself back from acting on your desires.

Feeling his grip ease, you decided to surge forward to envelop the leaking tip, but unfortunately for you, with the same momentum, he sent you gagging, eyes wide and coughing suddenly around the intrusion.

“You don’t learn your lesson, huh?” He seethed, grinning almost viciously. “You go on and on and on until I fucking break, until you’re sobbing and writhing around. I give you every chance to behave, and here you are.” Jay held you there relentlessly, if anything, just pushing more and more. Salty tears gathered in your eyes, already burning when you blinked them out to drip straight onto his thighs. “You fucking cryin’ now?” He breathed out a mocking laugh. “You think I care? Ungrateful little whore, you getting what you wanted—and all you can do is drool and sob on my cock.”

“Look at me.” You can’t, breathing through your nose wasn’t helping, making you squirm and wiggle in his grasp, whining, doing anything to get up. It was suffocating, your vision already blurring. Finally, he pulled you off by your hair, your whole chin dribbling with your saliva. “I hope you know you’re not helping your situation, baby.” Those feigned honeyed words? Those words made you whimper, avoid his gaze, and your thighs rubbing as the wetness grew in your panties. He was using you like a whore, you enjoyed it.

Jay knew it, he knew that all he had to do was be a bit firmer, throwing in some harsh words, and you’re putty.

“You’re really getting off on this? God, didn’t know you were this shameless. Not a single intelligible word in your stupid little head, am I right?” He was right. It’s annoyingly true, your glassy eyes, —now mascara and makeup completely smudged— were hooded, blinking lazily, and all you cared about right now is cock. His cock.

“So insatiable, can’t even wait. You had to feel me up there, huh? Say that you crave dick like water. You’re a thirsty whore, who can’t go a few hours without it, yeah?”

“I— Yes..”

“Yes what?” He stared at you patiently with feigned confusion.

Embarrassment burned on your face and you breathed shakily. He really made you say it out loud. It felt like screaming it to a crowd, even though if it’s just the two of you. His piercing gaze cut through you and he was determined to hold you there by your hair until you gave in.

Your cheeks were blazing. “Didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart.” Knitting your eyebrows in frustration, you sent him a glare that had little to no use on him.

The smirk plastered on his lips widened.

“I- I’m sorry! I wanted to get a rise out of you, okay?! I was just- bored..” Your tone suddenly cut through the sharp silence in the car, resulting in an understanding hum from him.

“Spit, c’mon.” Jay encouraged sweetly, making you gather saliva instantly, letting the slimy glob slid from the tip of your tongue straight onto his dick, slickening it up.

One firm hand taking a grip on his shaft, the other tugging you closer by your hair, your breath tickled his sensitive, flushed red head, his precum smearing over your parted-in-awe lips.

“Don’t move.” Not like you were able to, wrists tied behind you securely, head held tight by him; you were forced to just watch. Which alone wasn’t bad at all, but god, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew the subtle clench in his lower abs caught your attention, alongside his legs’ restless bounce around you. He was pretty quiet, the squelch overpowering the huffed groans slipping from his throat.

His adam’s apple bobbed with every shaky swallow he tried to force on himself to last longer. And it failed horribly.

He shuddered every time his palm slid a bit too close to his tip, his stomach clenching as the warm, tugging sensation finally snapped, hot, white streaks painting every delicate inch of your face. The low grunts melted into moans as his own hand struggled to stroke himself through his orgasm, his body completely trembling.

“Fuuuck—… what a good cumrag for me, right, pretty?” The cooing from him made your head more fuzzy by now, the pearly white droplets of his cum shining on your cheeks, pooled on your chest.

Jay ducked his head, taking a long, fascinated look with that gentle upward curl in the corners of his mouth.

The last chaste kiss he pressed on your lips made you realize; that’s it. He’s not going to touch you. What? You really thought he’d be that generous after this little stunt you pulled?

feedbacksㅤ. . . ㅤ𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾��� & 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ⚝ please don't spam!!

[robinsnest2111]

laundry, magnesium supplements, then off to bed and then another day of work

[fictionalsweethearts]

A CHILD FOR ZAUN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Under pressure from the Council and with a heavy responsibility on her shoulders, Sevika decides to have a child with her wife to show her commitment with the cause. However, indirect methods are too risky and she ends up choosing the traditional way, being an equal part spectator and participant.

Contains: mention of pregnancy, threesome, male participation, voyeurism, breeding kink, wife!Sevika, dirty talking, jealousy (I could keep going).

MINORS DNI

Note: Alright, so this is some kinky ass shit, I admit, so if you're not into male participation you can enjoy my other works on my masterlist. If you're staying... enjoy.

“A child?” Sevika asked, her eyebrows knitting together at Shoola’s sudden proposition. The councilor had waited until the session had adjourned and the rest of the councilors had left to discuss this with Sevika.

The work at the council seemed endless; since the war with Noxus and all the havoc it caused—from half of Piltover in ruins, to hundreds of casualties, widowed wives an husbands, orphaned children, and protests and riots on the bridge due to Zaun’s refusal to actively collaborate with the other side of the bridge—Sevika had barely had time to make amends and command a plan of action to favor Zaun in this whole mess. She was chosen by her people to represent a city whose fate hung in the balance. There were internal disputes, the districts seemed to want to take sides in the war and attack Piltover now that it has weakened, but Sevika knew that this would cost her authority and the promise to finally include Zaun in the Council's plans and stop being marginalized from public discussion. There were sessions and sessions of disputes and long speeches, where Sevika was ignored or the problems she brought up were disregarded by the rest of the members; by everyone of course, except for Shoola and Caitlyn. Both knew the importance of including Zaun, of making its needs known, even if in the past Sevika had been the enemy, or vice versa.

"A child," Shoola insisted, professional as ever. "You're in a difficult position, you don't yet have the trust nor approval of the rest of the Council. They don't know who they're dealing with."

"How a child would make them see me differently?" Inquired Sevika, both hands on the table before her.

"You must understand that you are rare case by being on the Council and being a Zaunite," Shoola explained. "In the eyes of the others, you are still a threat. The others do not trust you to have a say in matters on this side of the bridge, because they do not know what you are putting at stake."

Sevika clenched her jaw. She was a Zaunite at Piltover's council table, a fish out of water in a world of politics and alliances.

"My loyalty lies with my city, not this side of the bridge."

"Your loyalty will bear no fruit if you are not listened to. You must prove that you are not a mere visitor, Sevika. Committing to the cause means having something to risk."

"And what do you suggest, Shoola? A Zaunite child to hold as a bargaining chip? A token that ensures our cooperation?"

"Not a token, but a proof. A proof that you're not just advocating for your own interests..." she said, her tone growing more serious. "But for those of someone you care about, and the Council can see that you do so."

"Isn't the whole city of Zaun proof enough?" She inquired.

"It's about making yourself seen, Sevika," Shoola insisted. "The rest of the Councillors have entire nations behind them; children, parents, countrymen, enemies and allies. Yet you show up here without the full backing of your people, only a small portion who are not related to you in any way other than mere conviction and ideology."

Sevika looked away, Shoola's speech seemwd to acquire more sense with every word. "Besides... a child of your own will keep you grounded, it's a reminder of why you're here and what you're fighting for." She added.

Sevika knew Shoola had a point, no matter how much she hated to admit it. She was a lone wolf in a pack of powerful families and nations, at a disadvantage before an entire lineage of renowned nobles and politicians.

"I understand the need for solidarity," she said through gritted teeth. "But a child isn't a toy to be used for political gain. I won't endanger a child just to prove a point."

Shoola's expression softened, she interlaced her fingers. "It's a necessary decision, Sevika; causes require sacrifices," she said. "There are children waiting for a change there, using one could help dozens, hundreds. You can't keep arguing with a wall."

Sevika stood there in tense silence for a long moment after Shoola left. The room felt more empty than ever. Her mind raced with the idea of being responsible for a child, of being held accountable for their well-being. With a frustrated growl, she slammed her fist down hard onto the table, the sound of her prosthetic arm hitting the wooden top echoed in the room.

"How long am I gonna fight against this?"

┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈

"Margot won't allow it." Mumbled Sevika under her breath, letting out a heavy sigh.

Sevika took another drink, stamping the glass on the desk before looking back at the map hanging on the wall. She had been in a resounding silence for twenty minutes, interrupted by her own murmurs and growls. The plan to reduce the coverage of the red light district to favor the construction of hospitals seemed more like a fantasy than a plan, taking into account the powerful influence that brothels and sexual services had in Zaun. Sevika knew that truncating that specific area would be liquidating much of the city's income; she herself, when she used to be a regular customer, could realize how essential the business was.

Suddenly, a couple of arms wrapped around her chest, the softness of your cheek against her back and your smell interrupting Sevika's thoughts.

"You're going to pierce the map if you stare at it for so long, wifey." You purred.

Unconsciously, Sevika's shoulders relaxed as she heard your voice behind her. "It's called strategizing." she said with a half smile.

"What's the deal this time?" You inquired, peeking from your wife's wide back to take a look of the map too.

Sevika's grip on the edge of the desk tightened as her gaze traveled over the map pinned to the wall. She seemed to be studying the layout, her mind working through the challenges and options.

"The Rapturewalk," she replied. "It's becoming problematic. Profits are up, but the city needs hospitals, not more entertainment venues."

"Margot won't allow it." You said, just like Sevika thought before.

She sighed loudly. "I know. But the needs of Zaun are not being met. We're prioritizing profit over basic necessities. People are suffering while Margot makes money."

You ran your hands over her shoulders, your eyes sharpening at the markings on the map before you. "Keeping Rapturewalk is your best card, actually."

"How so?"

"It's a constant and safe source of income, after Shimmer's factories." You argued, crossing your arms as you looked at the map. "Let's say that whores are the economic basis of Zaun, whether you like it or not. And the best way to generate reserves to allocate them to other projects is to take advantage of the profits of the red light district."

It was not the first time you had helped Sevika to unravel a problem of this nature. She used to pay attention to your judgment as much as the councilmen's and she trusted your vision as much as her own.

Between pouts, jokes and a kiss on her cheek, you proposed possible solutions. Sevika responded with a grunt, dragging on her cigarette before looking at the map again. "I've only been on the Council for three months… and I'm going crazy already."

"Take the mining and taxes thing as advice only," you said. "I'm just the wife, the final decision is up to you."

"Don't say that." she said firmly, walking up to you and gently grasping your arm. "You're my partner, in every sense of the word." she stated, placing a kiss on your forehead.

And the truth is that your role in Sevika's life was not limited to just being a wife. From the beginning you were a pillar for her when she didn't believe in pillars or in the need to seek support from other people, you showed her that asking for help was not a sign of weakness but of strength, although to this day it was still a bad habit of hers to swallow her problems until she vomited them out between complaints and a few days of drunkenness. That night was no exception, and as soon as you moved away from her, you noticed her staring at your abdomen longer than usual.

"Is something wrong?" you asked.

"No, nothing's wrong." she grunted, knowing she was lying.

"You sure?"

Sevika remained silent for a moment, her tone sobering. "How does children sound to you?"

You seemed speechless for a moment.

You raised your eyebrows and a flash of excitement crossed your face before you turned serious. “Sounds like something we never considered possible…”

"I know we've never discussed it. But the thought has crossed my mind a few times... I never thought it would be an option, given our circumstances. But then again, I never thought we could have a life together in a room above a poker den either."

"I, uh..." you stuttered. "It's a sort of fantasy of mine, actually." you admitted. "You always said you weren't interested in children, and I respect it."

"Well, things has changed, haven't they?" Sevika took a step closer. "We've changed."

But something wasn't fitting, and you sensed it. "Sev. Why are you suggesting this all of sudden?"

She took a deep breath, her hand dropping back to her side.

"The Council has been... making suggestions," she said. "They think it would be a... symbolic gesture. A way to bridge the gap between Zaun and Piltover."

And all clicked.

"So you want a heir, not a son." you stated.

"No, I want what's best for Zaun. And if having a child serves a greater purpose, then that's what I must do."

"A child for a purpose? A symbol." you spat, crossing your arms as the anger began blooming. "Are you trying to please those snobs? Who made you think a heir would change their vision towards you, or towards Zaun?"

"It's about making them respect us. Showing them that Zaun can play the game they set and still come out on top. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good."

"Haven't you done enough sacrifices?" you insisted. "Following Vander, then Silco's cause, then Jinx. You've sacrificed what you are every damn time and they still believe it's not enough?"

"What choice do I have?" she snapped back. "If I don't show them, if I don't do something significant, they'll continue to disregard Zaun."

"And using a child is the proper way to earn approval?"

"Babe, it's about respect!" she snapped at you, followed by a sigh when she noticed you flinched.

Silence, thick as fog, settled in the room. Sevika looked not only exhausted, but hopeless. She was making drastic decisions and she knew it. "Love… I don't expect your approval in this, just your support."

You reached out, cupping her cheek as she looked into your eyes, speaking with them. You couldn't stand against that look, you never could. "I'll think about it." you whispered. "But I want you to understand that if we have a child, I will treat him as a son first and as a political tool second."

"I understand." she nodded. "I swear I do."

As the days went by, while the Council gave no respite and neither did Zaun, Sevika planted the seed of a child in your mind frequently. She would talk to you about adoption processes when you were cooking, accompanied by a well-placed caress on your back and a kiss on your neck, and then, after making love, she would talk to you about the possibilities of testing fertilization in a laboratory. Usually you limited yourself to nodding or emitting an "mhm", still questioning the changes that a child would mean, not only as a political symbol, but as an addition to the family.

Sevika would be a good mother, no doubt. She took care of Isha for a whole month without even mentioning she cared for her, but she still came to Jinx's lair with treats and toys or gadgets that she bought at the market. She asked you to cook an extra portion for dinner and whenever you asked her why, it was because "she got hungrier lately", knowing well that it was for Isha. And when she finally admitted her affection towards the blue-haired girl, she passed away.

Sevika remained strong for Jinx and for herself, but you found her asleep in the bathtub the day she found out, her eyes swollen and stinking to whiskey.

"I loved that kid," she admitted later, once you were able to get her out of the tub. "Why is everything dying around me, babe?"

That day you promised yourself to be Sevika's anchor, and bring more joy than worries to her life.

“Baby?” you whispered after Sevika turned around. “Do you think we could visit that doctor you mentioned the other day?”

"Dr. Allard? Yeah, we can. Why?"

"We could ask for advice... about the fertilization process."

Sevika rolled over, her eyes pierced into yours. "Do you wanna... try?"

"Yes, I-" you said before Sevika swallowed your words with a kiss.

And she kissed you later that day, as you two waited for the test results. Fertilization using hextech was still in the experimental phase and was certainly based more on theories than successful cases, but you still hoped you were a suitable candidate for the procedure. Sevika held your hand as the doctor entered, her solemn face not indicating good news.

"The preliminary tests show that your body's response to the hextech fertilization process is not as strong as we would have expected. The success rates will be much lower than we had originally suggested..."

It was the formal way of announcing that achieving a baby by that means was not feasible. And Sevika read your disappointed expression while the woman continued explaining technical details that you stopped listening to. Your wife squeezed your hand and wiped the hint of a tear from your eye. "We'll find a way."

And frustration was beginning to overwhelm you and Sevika. You drank at breakfast and dinner, ruminating on the possibilities and pressuring the Zaun orphanage just to find out there wasn't a goddamn orphanage in the first place. A month of arguments, tears and breakdowns went by. The Council gave no respite, Sevika was on the verge of collapse balanced by two cities that refused to cooperate, drowning her anguish in whiskey and smoking her worries, sleeping barely a few hours and giving up her intimacy and quality time with you. You watched Sevika fall into a cycle of slavering work from which you could not get her out until you found her unconscious in the living room, passed out from exhaustion and alcohol.

And that was the last straw.

"I'll look for candidates," you said in bed, after having fed Sevika a substantial dinner and a spoonful of Shimmer. "You can choose the one you like the most."

"And if I say no?" she dared to argue.

"Then you'll quit the Council."

She was silent for a moment, too weak to argue and too tired to find another solution. She couldn't believe she would consent this.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. "You can look."

It took you no more than a week, spreading out a series of files on the living room table and asking Sevika to study each one carefully. The process took barely an hour.

"This one," she said finally, laying the sheet on the table. "It's the most suitable.

You kind of expected it, Misk. A thirty-three-year-old Zaunite in impeccable health; a rarity in a city like ours. He was an athletic man who was both handsome and noble. He was known to run a humanitarian business, providing beds, food, education, and health. A true symbol of the spark of humanity struggling to survive in the city and an indirect ally of Sevika, if she could put it that way. The file was accompanied by a photo of the man in question. He had tanned skin, pale, slanted eyes, a straight nose, and generous lips. His black hair, usually tied back in a half ponytail, was dazzling with silvery glints and vitiligo had paled half of his face, spreading across his left arm and left pectoral. You knew Sevika had chosen him for his unusual features, she had a thing for Zaun's genetic diversity.

"Did you find him handsome?" you dared to tease her.

"Qualified." grunted Sevika. "I could never call a man handsome."

┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈

"I won't repeat myself," Sevika said firmly. "We bought your silence, you keep your mouth shut. Whatever happens in this room, stays in this room."

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, an olive-colored robe as your only garment, your hair loose and your skin soft and smooth from the scented bath you took earlier. The room smelled of floral, penetrating honey, while the lights were dim and invited to retreat and intimacy.

You had prepared the room in advance for the special night; cigars lay on the coffee table in front of the wide bed with silky damask sheets. Three glasses of whiskey with ice, a jug of water, poppy oil beside the bed, aromatic herbs hung from the ceiling and a series of candles spread across the furniture and the windowsill, through which the silver bath of moonlight filtered in. You looked at Sevika, clad in a wine-colored kimono, revealing a glimpse of her bare chest and long, shapely legs. Her hair loose and her mechanical arm gleaming with Shimmer. Certainly her feminine energy was taking more prominence tonight, and you couldn't help but finding her even more beautiful.

Sitting on the couch, Misk watched Sevika intently, sipping whiskey and taking orders with the abnegation of a soldier. He had a robe on and his hair tied in a ponytail. He was more handsome in person and when Sevika first watched him walk in, she let out a chuckle. "He looks like a puppy."

"Sevika."

"He'll act like a puppy, alright."

Misk greeted you and your wife cordially, acknowledging the reasons why he was there and taking a seat on the sofa.

"This is not about your pleasure, but about the purpose. You will do as I say." continued Sevika. "You will touch my wife only when I allow it, and you will not speak unless spoken to. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"C'mere." she commanded, watching Misk stand up and come closer.

Sevika wrinkled her nose, blowing smoke into Misk's face as she studied his bearing, his face, and his scent. She parted his lips with her fingers, taking a look of his teeth and then his eyeballs, looking for any indication that would cast doubt on his medical certificate. He smelled healthy. "You're in good shape," she said, cupping the young man's jaw to look at his angles as if he was a rare animal.

Certainly for Sevika he was, she only adresses men for gambling, business or brawls. The sole thought of sharing a bed with him was uncanny still. "My wife chose well."

She ran her hand down his throat, feeling his pulse, which felt strong and steady. "Have you been in a threesome before, young man?" inquired Sevika with a dark grin.

"I have." nodded Misk.

"Good, I'm not into teaching men what they have to do." said Sevika, letting his throat go. "No funny business or I'll rip your cock off."

"Sevi." you protested from the bed.

Sevika grinned, her eyes flickering to you. "My wife seems to have a soft spot for you," she said. "Don't push your luck, then."

Misk nodded, his expression serious. "I understand."

"You're scaring him, babe." you insisted.

"He has no reason to be scared," she said shortly. "If he behaves, he'll be rewarded. If he doesn't, he'll remember it for a long time. He also signed a contract, remember? He knows what's he getting into."

Just then, Sevika seemed convinced enought to start.

“Take a seat and watch,” Sevika ordered, leaning over to stub out her cigarette in the ashtray. “You’ll join when I say so.”

You stood up, ready and eager as Sevika approached you with confident steps. She caressed your cheek. "Are you sure you're okay with him watching?" you whispered softly. "He can enter later."

"Let him stay. He can learn a thing ot two."

┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈

You squeezed your tits between your fingers, Sevika gave you a slow and methodical oral, she ate you out with all her heart and her whole face, diving between your legs and moaning against your pussy. She took all the time in the world on it, making you shudder and whimper for relief, only for your wife to straddle you on her thigh and order you to ride her as soon as you reached your first orgasm. You refused her nothing, even when Misk was on the couch watching everything and made you shy for a moment. But Sevika gave two shits about his presence, urgently kissing your mouth, whispering obscenities that only she was capable of saying and pinching your nipples between her fingers.

Misk realized that he was in front of an experienced couple, totally in tune.

"Don't look at him," she murmured. "Eyes on me, baby. I'm the one you're riding right now."

Sevika kissed you hard, filling all your senses so that you wouldn't even consider looking at a man while you were with her. She didn't take pleasure in letting a man possess you, not now or ever, but she couldn't deny that she was attracted to your pitiful moans and the way your lips would part when Misk fucked you. Sevika knew that this encounter wasn't just for a particular purpose, it was pleasurable in equal parts and she was certainly spoiling you by consenting to it.

"Admit it." whispered Sevika. "Admit that you're dying for him to fuck you. That you're dying to be the center of attention."

"No, Sev..." you whimpered.

Sevika grabbed your throat and looked into your eyes. "You're an attention seeker, even in three years of marriage that hasn't changed. And I love how desperate you are."

"Ah." that's all you could do, pant. "Ah, ah..." and your eyes softened before Sevika let your throat go and you cried your orgasm out.

You fell on top of her. Sevika cupped your neck with a tenderness she only stored for you and placed a kiss on the top of your head. "You're not allowed to be tired," she whispered to you. "Misk is still watching."

You asked for water, Misk was the one who handed you the glass and while you drank, Sevika drew circles on your back. She looked at Misk with analytical, wary eyes, knowing that the unpostponable could not be postponed.

With a kiss on the top of your head, she made you descend from her lap and wait on the bed, still a little shaken by the two previous orgasms. Misk remained in place, Sevika reached for a cigarette on the coffee table and lit it solemnly.

"Misk." she said. "Take good care of her."

You swallowed, still not believing that Sevika was giving you over to a man. A rush of adrenaline and anticipation ran through your body when Misk nodded, looking at you lying on the bed. You stood up, bare and glowing still, allowing him to come closer.

"Can I…?" he asked, clearly afraid of angering Sevika with the slightest contact on your body.

"Yes." you whispered, allowing him to wrap his hands around your waist and kiss you.

Sevika drowned her jealousy in her cigarette, watching as Misk laid you down on the bed and ventured into your skin, your breasts and your abdomen. His touch was gentle, you appreciated it since your wife had left you quite sensitive after her intervention, but you couldn't stop looking at her while he rubbed you between your legs.

You needed her close, not to be removed from the equation.

Sevika read your thoughts clearly, sitting on the couch, the tip of her cigarette glowing with each drag before she placed it on the ashtray. “Stand up,” she ordered, to which Misk seemed to back away. “I didn’t say you were leaving.”

Misk seemed to understand, allowing Sevika to position herself behind you, cupping your breasts in both hands as she began to kiss your neck. You greeted Misk with another long kiss, feeling more secure with your wife’s close supervision. Only then you moaned opnely with pleasure, parting your legs so Misk could once again rub a sensitive but so wet pussy that it left his fingers with a wet sheen.

With your wife's intervention, the evening flowed (very) well. You were already sitting on the bed, leaning against your wife's chest who was already easing a couple of fingers in you, while Misk was busy pleasing your nipples with his tongue. You moaned, looking at your wife and giving her a short kiss before looking at Misk again. The man seemed engrossed in his task, his robe sliding enought to reveal his chest and the paleness of the vitiligo. You thought he was handsome, an ideal candidate for a beautiful baby.

However, you didn't allow yourself to look at him for too long, knowing that provoking Sevika's jealousy would probably end with a dead man in the room.

"I wanna eat you out." you whined then, cupping your wife's cheek.

"Aren't you busy enough?" she teased.

"Please..."

Sevika wasn't going to deny you anything either, she loved to indulge you in everything. Not in vain she was allowing a man on her bed. Still, she hadn't pay attention to him, much less touched him; he was there as a mere tool, she insisted. Sevika tangled her fingers in your hair, her palm firm on the back of your neck as she watched you trail kisses from her chest to her pubis. She hissed, Misk kneeling behind you and kissing your spine slowly. She felt the urge to break his nose with a punch, but you kept her busy with your mouth between her legs.

“Fuck.” She growled, looking at you. “If it wasn’t for you…” she added in a whisper.

"Mhm." you moaned, venturing to ease a finger into her. And Sevika's anger was soon replaced by a stronger feeling.

You gasped, noticing the presence of his phallus, hard and wet against your entrance. Your body bristled in anticipation, believing yourself ready to receive Misk. Sevika frowned, her hand between your locks clenching tightly. Her blood boiled.

"You hurt her and I swear I'll rip your cock off," she threatened, not caring if she was ruining the mood or not. She only cared to know that her wife was willing to continue.

"It's fine." you purred, pulling back to look at Sevika. "I'm... I'm ready."

Your hands on either side of her hips, you watched Sevika the entire time. You didn’t look away from her grey eyes, not when Misk rubbed against you, not when you arched your back to allow him in. Sevika sucked in a breath between her teeth, holding your chin when your lips parted in a shaky moan.

“Fuck.” you breathed out, kissing your wife as Misk buried himself in you.

And you were embarrassed by how fucking horny you were.

You didn't know how to put your pleasure into anything but moans, words fell short. The feeling of kissing your wife, her hand around your throat while you were being fucked was delicious. Being the center of attention turned you on like nothing else, the moans, the grunts, the obscenities that reached your ears and made you smile. You soon agreed with what Sevika had said before; you love attention. The clash of skin on skin filled the room, Misk held your waist and squeezed your skin while Sevika caressed your lower lip, watching you, almost admiring you.

"Seems you're having fun." she said against your mouth. "Breaking into moans for a man, aren't you ashamed?"

"So ashamed." you whined before Misk leaned to place a kiss on your shoulder and you read Sevika's jealousy in her eyes. "But you love watching."

"I love you." she whispered, only your ears catching such strong phrase.

You lost count of how many times you gasped, or how many times Misk made you shiver with a precise thrust. Your wife watched everything, absolutely everything, scolded and admired you in equal parts, finished smoking her cigarette and gave you a tobacco-flavored kiss before forcing you upright.

"You're already all wasted, I thought I taught you better than that." she said, gripping your chin as your eyes fluttered with exhaustation. Misk had a firm hand on your shoulder, making slower but deeper thrusts. You felt him fill you again and again, causing a slight numbing sensation in your pussy.

You were reaching your limit.

Misk let out a groan, his breathing becoming irregular and noisy. "I take this is how men let you know they're about to cum?" asked Sevika with a raised eyebrow.

"Sev." you whimpered. "I'm..."

You didn't know if you were about to cum or faint, whichever came first, but it worried Sevika. You weren't used to this amount of stimulation and Misk seemed insatiably focused on his task. It was then that Sevika kissed you and left the bed. Your chest hit the mattress, Misk growled against your ear and his hips moved incessantly, to the point that you felt imprisoned by his body. You wanted to cry, it was an unknown pleasure and your body gave signs of wanting to give up.

Until you felt it, like a warm, wet torrent that made its way inside you and filled your insides. It was then that you stifled a cry into the pillow, Misk didn't seem to stop.

"I told you to take care of her, son of a bitch," Sevika said.

Misk stopped dead at the cold touch of a cannon against his temple. "You get away from her right now or I'll shoot you in the balls, you hear?"

You didn't see Misk leave the room, but you heard him. You were lying on that bed, your legs shaking, a thread of his seed seeping between your legs. Until Sevika made you close them.

"Relax, it's all over now…" your wife whispered, sitting next to you and placing a kiss on your shoulder. "I shouldn't have agreed to this in the first place."

"I'm fine…" you murmured. Exhausted and sore, you couldn't deny that you'd never felt this pleased in bed. It wasn't Misk the important addition, it was the dynamic of being watched by your wife and realizing the desire that prevailed in her gaze.

Well, desire until she seemed to kill Misk at the last minute very appealing.

"Keep them closed, sweetheart. I won't let this happen again, either you get pregnant or I set the Council on fire. You won't go through this again."

You looked up, glancing at Sevika beside you on the bed. She covered you with her kimono, tracing circles on your lower back before frowning. “Tell me the truth.”

“Mhm?”

“You fancy Misk, don’t you?”

“You already said it, Sev. It’s suitable, but I don’t like him.” you smiled despite your exhaustion, leaning over to place a hand on your wife’s knee. “I just want to give you a child, Sevika. I want to be and make you a mother.”

“You’ll look beautiful pregnant.” Sevika whispered. "So damn beautiful, round and glowing. I wonder how I got myself such gorgeous wife."

"I wonder the same..." you smiled and Sevika leaned down to give you a kiss before patting your bottom lovingly.

“I’ll run you a bath and dinner, okay? Get some rest.”

You nodded, rolling over to lean back on the soft pillows of your bed as you watched Sevika get dressed.

"Are you gonna kill him?" you asked after a moment.

"I wanted to." she admitted. "But I have too many things to attend to add murder to the list. As long as he doesn't cross my path on the street, I won't try anything."

"Okay..." you mumbled, watching Sevika leave the room. "Love you."

"Love you more."

You sighed, tired and sore, barely processing the situation that took place in that same bed you were laying on. You had never been in a threesome, and it was a good but unrepeatable experience. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, wishing with all your might that this method would work and that you could have a child for Zaun.

But above all, a child for your wife Sevika.

[lovetei]

Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call

Versions: The Brothers, Side characters

Warnings: Gender neutral pronouns for MC, Cussing, Slight yandere themes (Belphegor, Asmodeus)

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

This demon likes sticking to rules

Running on hallways? Detention

Eating during class? Detention

Not paying attention to class? Detention

No one is safe...

Except for one person.

The cafeteria if filled with loud noises, your voice shouting profanities to another demon specifically.

Everyone listening to the argument feels like they're stomach is about to burst out of nervousness because "What if Lucifer randomly comes in and put all of us is detention because we just stood by and didn't do anything to stop the fight?!"

And he did.

But what surprised them is that he didn't shout or anything, he just stood there for a few second and scanned the crowd looking for one of his brothers.

Spotted Mammon and came close to him before whispering something among themselves.

And then he just stood there

Doing nothing

As if it's just fucking okay to let a human, the exchange student at that, to scream and curse a demon because he won't cooperate into this project.

And when the demon started cursing back at you, the rules are suddenly so strict as if cussing will cause the end of the 8 rings of hell.

The demon is sent to detention, removed from the group, suspended, and many more.

And who knows? Maybe you pulled just a few strings to have that demon expelled.

But what the citizens sure know is that they never saw anyone again after talking to MC like that.

MAMMON

It was cute

Mammon would do anything for you, no matter how big or small it is.

One day, Mammon was spotted running around the halls of RAD.

Looking like he's getting chased by Lucifer, again.

But surprisingly, he's not.

He's just running around the school fetching your fan, notebooks, bag, pens, water or some snacks.

One time, you two were put in a group for this project and were talking about it with your other group mates.

Then you hit him with a "Mammon, I left my notebook on my desk in the potions class, can you fetch it for me?"

With just a blink of an eye, Mammon who was leaning on your shoulder just a few minutes ago is gone.

And with another blink of an eye he's there again with your notebook on his hands then he's back to leaning on your shoulder again as if he didn't just go to the other side of the school for a notebook.

LEVIATHAN

He's introverted

He won't go out his room if it's just for some lame party

I also headcanons for him to be the most unseen brother

Or like him having the smallest amount of photo and information online because he just won't go out.

Yeah, he won't go out if it's just some small, lame party but if Diavolo hosts it, what exactly can he do?

"Do you think the avatar of envy will attend this party?"

"Ha! No way... Lord Leviathan won't attend small parties or gatherings like these unless Lord Diavolo hosts it himself."

"Lord Leviathan really has a high standard when it comes to gatherings..."

And then poof

He's there

Beside you

A happy go lucky sheep beside a gloomy snake

What a match

And if you ask him why he would attend such gatherings when it's totally not even his style he would just go like "MC."

"What can I do? MC really wants to see the fireworks display."

"MC wants me to escort them."

So they got the hint on how to make Levi attend gatherings, either have Diavolo host it or invite MC too.

SATAN

He's angry

But not angry enough to yell when MC is around

Man's can go from 👹 to ☺️ real quick as soon as he felt MC's prescense

He doesn't know why too, but whenever he yell while you're around he thinks he'll fall out of favor

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU'RE SO PERFECT THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AROUND WHILE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD FAR UP YOUR ASS- Oh, Hi MC? How are you?"

He'll talk so sweet in front you and then when you turn around you can see some veins popping out of his neck and forehead.

And if he can't really handle it and went berserk in your prescense another scary yet amazing thing you can is to put your hand on his body.

Shoulder, head, neck, wrist, arm, wherever it is.

Just pat him or link your arms with him and he will start to calm down.

ASMODEUS

People headcanon him to like it when you're obsessed with him but I think he's more obsessed to you.

Like he's down bad

You can do anything and he'll literally fawn all over it

"Look at the way they run their hands through their hair!"

"Look at how they work!"

"The way they hold that fork is so graceful~"

Literally, you're the only person that comes to his mind when someone said pretty

Except for himself of course

But I swear, whenever someone caught him staring at you the atmosphere gets so thick

You don't even know why but the atmosphere is heavy and the air suddenly smells so sweet

And those heart in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate

Yeah, you have this man worshipping you alongside himself

BEELZEBUB

Other than the fact that he's actually willing to share his food with you

He's willing to help you in any physical works

Like lifting up things, carrying your stuffs and sometimes even running errands for you

I mean, he actually doesn't do it a lot because Lucifer actually asks Mammon for this stuff because the things Lucifer needs to be done is a little...

Shady?

And he doesn't want to taint Beel's innocence.

So now since you're already a part of the student council when Lucifer needs to have something important finished but it requires physical work.

You and Beel will be partnered

And he doesn't have anything against it either

He likes it so much when you command him to do something actually

I mean, he's tall and buff but Lucifer won't ask him to do anything that includes hard labor except taking care of Belphegor

So you actually helping him make use of all those muscles made him feel a tinge of happiness

He feels like he's actually of use :)

BELPHEGOR

This little brat

He would kill for you and he means it

He's not scared to spill blood on broad daylight as long as it's for you

Someone bothered you? Dead

Oh this person annoyed you? Taken care of

Aw~ He told you you're cute and asked you out on a date? That's sweet! Dead.

He's just like that

He won't tolerate anyone who dared disrespect you

And Lucifer won't even put a stop into this

"I mean, Devildom is quite overpopulated and we don't want anyone disrespecting Lord Diavolo's plan on bringing the three realms together now." Is what he reasons everytime.

Oh, he also wakes up on command as long as it's you.

Lucifer and his brothers could be shaking him like he's dead and he won't even bother to open his eyes

But if you just pulled a "Belphie? Good morning..." Oh dear, he's wide awake and clinging to you.

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate content: gender neutral reader, parody, When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[wonderlandcrown]

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑀𝑦 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒

𝑉𝑖𝑙 𝑥 𝑌𝑢𝑢(𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

a/n : book 5 spoilers, also Vil didn't know Jamil overbloted until book 6. reader is gn and referred to as "Yuu, the prefect, you, they/them pronouns"

genre : light angst, romance(pining)

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛💜♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Someday my prince will come Someday I'll find my love And how thrilling that moment will be When the prince of my dreams comes to me He'll whisper, "I love you" And steal a kiss or two Though he's far away I'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true

Vil was reluctant to stay in Ramshackle during VDC, "A messy room equals a messy mind", is what he tells his dorm mates. Though he understood that the prefect didn't choose to stay there, Vil Schoenheit was never a fan of unclean spaces.

But Vil had bigger problems at the moment, Neige will undoubtedly show up for the competition, and his dream- no, his goal will be in jeopardy.

The headmage did say that the prefect was quite talented in bringing people together...

Fine then, if staying in a dingy dorm means having a chance at winning against Neige, he'll do it.

"How thrilling, " Vil thought, "will my moment of victory be."

Someday I'll find my love Someone to call my own And I'll know him the moment we meet For my heart will start skipping a beat Some day we'll say, "I do" Things we've been longing to Though he's far away I'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true

Vil noticed the scars around the prefects hands, undoubtedly the result of going through no less than 3 overblots, not to mention all of them happened under a year!

Vil scoffs, Crowley must be more incompetent than he thought if he allowed a poor defenseless student to get caught up in so much trouble; or is it Yuu who is careless?

He originally saw you akin to something like a pathetic wet cat : lost, clueless, naive.

Though he'll admit he was quite wrong, your occasional sharp jabs towards the trio of potatoes(Ace, Deuce and Grim) didn't go unnoticed by Vil. He thinks you're quite funny, you act so brazenly and sarcastic around your friends but around strangers you suddenly become quiet and well spoken, you remind him of the difference of his personalities on camera and off.

Though that's the only thing he and you have in common.

Vil remembers perfectly well the glare Yuu shot at him when he cursed the delicacies Trey gifted the younger spudlings. It was a necessary measure! You're smarter than your friends, you should understand that they would've tried to break away from the diet Vil gave them.

Vil doesn't understand, he doesn't understand those potatoes, didn't they agree to this? Don't they want to win? If they do they should listen to him, he knows what's best, he's been trained for countless competitions since he was young, these diets, these restrictions have been imposed onto him ever since then and they will be forevermore.

For them, it'll only be a moment before they're back to their normal lives, so why can't they understand? Vil understood ever since he was young, so why can't they?

He's been longing for the chance to stay on stage until the very last moment, so why can't Yuu just do what he says and help those idiots cooperate with him.

Vil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, he shouldn't dwell on unnecessary things for too long, lest he stray from his goal.

Somewhere waiting for me There is someone I'm longing to see Someone I simply can't help but adore Someone who'll thrill me forever

"Hey, uh, can we discuss something? "

It was already late afternoon, Epel had screamed at Vil and ran away from the dorm and one of your friends, Deuce, he remembers, ran after him. But they haven't been back.

He lets out a sigh, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"What is it?" Vil turns to face you, usually during the breaks between the VDC groups training, you pass around water bottles and some snacks(not cursed by Vil this time). Though this time you carry nothing, it's expected, the rest of the group only have a break because two of the members ran off to who knows where.

"I think you're being too harsh on them. " Vil scoffs, "Excuse me? They're the ones being too careless, they're not serious enough. " Vil glares at you, nose scrunched. You betray his expectations, really, he expected you to be more mature about this.

You only look at him in the eyes as a response, he notices your tense frame, you must've been planning to tell him this for a while now.

"..Epel ran away." Vil lifts an eyebrow, "And? Are you just here to state the obvious?" He hears you click your tongue, you're irritated with him? Why must you be so mean to him, prefect, all he wants is to win, is that so much to ask for?

"Look, I understand your efforts, what you do to achieve your dreams is commendable, really, "

Dreams? How dare you use such a childish word, the Vil Schoenheit doesn't dream, he has no time for that.

"but you need to realize that not everyone can handle, well, you. We want to win, obviously but uh, you're already so accustomed to this type of stuff but we're not.."

Hm? Oh, prefect, you're flattering him, so you're saying that he's so glamorous to the point that the normal spudlings can't even begin to compare?... Vil's kidding obviously, but the compliment has made him more inclined to listen to you.

"Dear prefect, I may see your point.. Though you must realize that diamonds are created under pressure, and the headmage has been far too lenient." You sigh, brows furrowed, "Tell me about it.. Again, you're not wrong, there are limits. Even the seemingly strong gems can crack if they have internal flaws."

My, isn't this new.. Prefect, it's been quite the long time since someone dared to question him, in such an interesting way no less.. Most people either agree with no objections or slander his views vehemently (Rook and Epel, Vil's looking at you) Congratulations are in order for managing to intrigue Vil of all people.

You're confused on why Vil's smiling, so.. fondly at you, did you do something wrong?

"Prefect, if you don't mind, how do you feel about joining my nightly routine tomorrow, I think you have many interesting topics to share with me."

Someday my prince will come Someday I will find the one Though he's far away he'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true Oh, please make my dreams come true

"The winner of VDC is.. ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY, LED BY THE ONE AND ONLY NEIGE LEBLANCHE!"

The crowd cheers endlessly, Vil feels his heart grow heavy with that same, twisting, horrendously ugly feeling of envy. His feet feel like they're on fire and Vil has to pretend the camera flashes are irritating him in order to blink back the tears.

It's ok, it's fine, the loser has to fall and Vil feels like he's been plummeting since then, now, and perhaps forevermore.(please don't let it be so)

It's even worse when Neige pulls him into an encore, his hand pressing on one of the bruises on his arm, a scar gained from his overblot. But Vil's heart only winces when he thinks of you, he thinks of your scars, you must have so many, you've been through so much..

Vil is so, so sorry, he wants to cry and beg for your forgiveness, for Rook's, for Epel's, for everyone's forgiveness. What he did was so stupidly immature, how could he just betray his own expectations, everyone expected Vil Schoenheit to be level headed, mature, and beautiful. So why? Why must he be everything except that?

Everything after his overblot was a blur, really. He thought his career would go up on smoke, everything he worked for would've been gone. Vil stared at his phone, waiting for a ping from his manager, informing him that his overblot, his weakest moment, was leaked for the whole world to see. Vil sits at the vanity, normally he would be staring into his reflection, but now he can't even bear the thought of looking at the mirror.

Suddenly he was met with a knock on his door.

"I'm not expecting visitors, if it's not urgent then go find Rook, or the prefect."

"Vil, I am the prefect."

Vil immediately sits up right, brushing away the few strands of stray hair, before inviting you in. "Come on in."

You quickly slip inside his room, closing the door behind you with a click, Vil tilts his head, usually he would never do this, unbefitting of the mature image of Vil Schoenheit, but since it's you, he finds himself at ease without putting on his performative mask. "I see you want privacy, is it personal?"

"Yeah, I.. wanted to see how you're doing. " Vil doesn't hold back the bittersweet smile, "You really are kind, don't worry about me, you should've ran away when you saw me overblot, why didn't you?"

Why didn't you? You should've ran away the moment you saw blot dripping from his lips and eyes, yet you stayed, you stayed during his overblot and all the others. Vil wants to know, how is one person so caring yet sarcastic, so plain yet so interesting, so normal yet.. Vil feels like he's never met someone like you before.

"Why didn't I? What kind of question is that, the better question is how could I leave a friend during his weakest moments?"

See? Caring yet sarcastic, Vil giggles at your response, "You should know when to stop helping people, dear. One day you'll get irreversibly wounded and there's nothing I could do to help you at that point." Vil's tone is light, though he feels an aching sensation when he imagines a fatally wounded Yuu.

You sigh, taking a step closer to Vil, "I'm not that weak, so don't think of stuff like that." The housewarden of Pomefiore only gives a tired smile, plain yet so interesting, he thinks. You're a magicless being somehow willed with such tenacity that befits the values of the Beautiful Queen, Vil might be inclined to take a few lessons from you.

It takes a while before Vil notices you're staring at him, you look at him as if you were looking at a poor, caged animal. "..Is there something else you want to tell me?" You don't respond, you only continue to look at him, at his clothes, at his hair, then you stare at him in the eye.

Vil feels a lump form in his throat, you're looking at him in such a humane way, not the lovesick expressions usually adorned on his fans, not the scowls of jealousy from the haters. You look at him as if you see something beyond the masks he wears.

Unlike what most people think, Vil Schoenheit actually has two masks, one he adorns when the camera rolls, which from there he has many others to choose from. The second he wears to retain the strict and regal image of Pomefiore, the one who rules this dorm with an iron fist, where he is both hated and loved.(not that much different from his career)

But you, you're looking at none of the two, he never saw anyone else other than his own father and Rook wear this expression. Someone who sees beyond what is presented to them.

"You're tired." Vil finally hears you say something, "I'll go draw you a bath." Your words were authoritative and left no room for arguement, it reminds Vil of himself. As the actor watches you walk into his bathroom he feels a warm sensation course through him, it's been quite the long time since he was the one on the receiving end of these affections.

No, affections is too intimate a word, but Vil can't think of any other way to describe it.

You can't see his expression now, prefect, but do know that you made Vil Schoenheit of all people cover his face to hide his blush and smile. So normal yet Vil's never met anyone else like you.

Vil hears the sound of water flowing coming from the bathroom, he hopes you finish your task soon, Vil has never felt what yearning for another's presence was like until now.

Vil already has his hunter and poison apple, so tell him what you'll be? What role will you take on to complete the Beautiful Queen's camaraderie? Will you be his raven, dutiful, working from the shadows; or his mirror : showing him what you see, beyond what Vil presents himself to be.

Vil shall wait for your answer, prefect.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬

a/n : someday my prefect will come - vil schoenheit. first fanfic tbh, there were pacing issues but I don't think it's that bad for a first timer. reblogs are appreciated

edit : chapter 2(not a continuation of this) is out now, go on my blog and search the tag "the songs of love", also you can tell me in the reblogs or comments if you wanna be tagged for chapter 3

[suiana]

Yandere british policeman but its just this https://pin.it/713T0xSDg

(yandere! british policeman x gn! reader) (idk why you want a british man in particular but you know what it's fine) (it could've been worse, like a french man /j)

"right love, gonna need you to open the door and talk to me."

you merely stare at this... random ass man through your peephole. who the hell does this guy think he is? this is the fourth day in a row that he's showed up at your doorstep! for four days, he's delibrately taken time out of his day to show up in front of your door!

hell, he's been following you since way before! trying to pull you over on the road, yelling something about 'pulling over' or telling you to 'freeze'... you suspect it's been about a few months since this random man started showing up in your life like a damn pest.

who the hell even does that?

"go away!"

yeah nah, you're not going to let him in. no way in HELL. plus, he always shows up wearing that same weird outfit! when you first confronted him, he said he was some sort of... officer? and that what he was wearing was a uniform?

hah! imagine having to wear a uniform. he really is just a young chap playing a prank on you. how annoying, that's why you haven't opened the door for him no matter how long he spends knocking away. let him knock, maybe he'll finally get the hint and leave you alone.

"i'm going to have to break down your door if you don't open it, love. you're a person of interest in a really serious crime, you know. it'll be better if you just cooperate with us."

and there he goes again. again with his rambling and nonsense talk of breaking down your door. does he really think he has the authority to do that? nah, you'll just call the police if he does! they'll deal with him like they should!

in fact, you think you'll call the police now! have this guy arrested for harrassing you non-stop!

"if you don't leave, i'll call the police!"

silence.

"so you're scared huh? i knew it! you're just a loser-"

"darling, i am the police."

and then all of a sudden, your door fails to function properly and just falls to the floor, the hinges unhinging on itself. your jaw drops as you face the tall policeman, your eyes wide. but before you could say anything else, he starts talking about his nonsense police stuff again.

"sweetheart i'm putting you under arrest as the prime suspect of a hit and run. please turn around and put your hands against the wall."

"hey wait just a second! i never hit anybody!"

despite your protests, you couldn't really fight against the guy. not when he completely dwarfed you. not when he had huge hands and big pectoral muscles... and that ass in those tight pants... and just seeing him in his uniform... you wonder what would happen if you smacked his ass...?

but back to the problem. hit and run? bro you don't even drive! how could you be a prime suspect of a hit and run? there was only one answer.

"you're a fraud! no way a guy like you is an actual officer! i demand you let go of me until a real-"

then he pulls out an authentic looking police badge and license. no way, he was real? but... but you didn't commit a hit and run! how could this be happening?! no, no, no! get these unsexy handcuffs off!

"you're coming back with me. gonna have to discipline a criminal like you the hard way. not letting me in for four days? tsk tsk, i am so very disappointed in you, love."

wait a second!

just wait a second!

why the heck was he dragging you into a real police car?! no way! this is some big shit! you can't believe this is happening!

"come on dude! you can't seriously be-"

"yeah, you didn't actually commit any crime. i'm just using it as an excuse to bring you back to my home where i can love and adore you."

HUH????

[teaboot]

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

[lambcultist]

꒰ ♱ ꒱ gf!ellie who was oddly secretive about her 'career' since your relationship began, and you never stopped to question why...┆ dark content. hitman!ellie x naive!reader. toxic relationship, manipulation, gaslighting, love bombing. she's literally a murderer, you have been warned + i'm rusty because i've been tired lately, but wanted to get this out because i kept thinking about it ♡ MINORS DNI ( 18+ )

"it's just a job, babe. it's that simple. you never told me you were coming home early, the fuck is up with that?"

you had arrived home with a headache to a near-silent house, not even a whisper, only the faucet running in the bathroom. once you followed the noise, you couldn't get a peep out before ellie spotted your look of horror in the mirror behind her. she cursed quietly and made a pathetic effort in hiding the array of obscene, bloody weapons on the counter from your view with her body, but it was too late.

there isn't any option. you must cooperate, or you will be forcing her hand to her gun, and the barrel to your head. and for her own sake, ellie is praying you will listen.

"it doesn't matter that i came home early, i— i shouldn't have to come home to this—"

"shut the fuck up, if you never came home, you wouldn't have seen me like this," ellie hisses. she keeps her back to you, sparing you nothing but a menacing glare through the mirror as she wipes down her revolver. "you could have prevented this so easily. could've texted, or called."

she yields a fucking weapon, perhaps you shouldn't shout or argue; it may cost your life. truthfully your mind finds it hard to comprehend this. sweet, lovely ellie, who has always been a little overprotective, but not in any questionable sense—until now, that is—she's a killer.

"i'm not the one at fault." you take steps back, speaking more to yourself than ellie by this point, who can't bear to listen to your panicking. "oh my god. oh my god. i have to call the—"

now, this catches her attention. she spins on her heel, hands flying to your wrists to bar you from exiting. "no, you don't call anyone. you don't tell anyone. don't be stupid, baby, god. you know what happens when you call the cops? they take me away from you. that's what happens. you want that? you want me gone?"

fat, hot tears pool in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you shake your head. your wrists are rigid, ellie's nails pressing into your flesh with a sickening burn. "no, no, just—"

"you'd fucking betray me like that? after everything i've done for you? i thought you'd be different."

"no!"

"then don't you dare turn me in," she spits. your vision is blurred and your brain foggy, but you can feel the callous look in her eyes. they are like daggers. "i do all of this for you. i do this so we can have a good life. and you'd really just... throw me to the wolves like that, huh?"

"no, no, i won't," you weep, frantically shaking your head now. how could you be so dumb, so selfish? ellie has opened up about her fear of abandonment enough times for you to be conscious of it. you should've remembered how this would hurt her. "i'm sorry ellie, i wasn't thinking."

"fucking hell," ellie mutters, letting go of you finally, critically surveying you up and down. your tears, your weary hiccups and sobs... you are easy enough now. "i'm not a murderer, babe. it's just a job. that's all there is to it."

"okay." she isn't satisfied with your lack of words now, but it is understandable.

"this job.. you know how much blood and sweat it takes? fuckin' look at me. this one didn't go down easy," ellie says. she talks, rambles, to fill the silence in the room. "this one fought. he hurt me. and i do this for us. to pay the bills, the rent, put food on the table, and to buy you whatever shit you want."

you nod along. she lifts her shirt to show you deep, purple marks she has earned, instructs you to watch her clean scratches and cuts she received, and then runs the shower.

"why did you come home?" ellie asks. she is milder now, throwing her black clothing to the ground piece by piece.

"i.. had a headache," you murmur between sniffles.

"why didn't you say that?" she scoffs, reaching for the hem of your sweater. "jesus, baby. could've been looking after you already. shower with me."

you flinch while ellie begins to undress you. she notices, of course, and gives you a warning glare.

"babe, don't be scared. i love you."

for a minute or two beneath the shower head, the water runs pink, the remaining evidence of her crime disappearing. her soapy hands run along your body firmly. her lips press against your forehead and her arms are pulling you in for a cuddle under the water. it should be warm, yet it feels so icy.

"i'm not a danger to you," ellie whispers, kissing your temple before she adds, "as long as you stay quiet."

🏷️ @abbysdollie @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @literallylautski @ellieshothousewife @piercedome @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n @yoosohh @marvelwomenarehot0 @l0veylace

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Heavy, heavy fucking angst, jealousy, cunnilingus, fingering, blow jobs, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling (slut/bitch etc) toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic, reader is toxic. OOC. TOXIC britney spears level lol. Split POV-

♔ Word count: this chap: 12k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you - Don't read this if you want a nice Gojo lol.

Comments and Reblogs appreciated <3

Part Eight - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Nine- Let it all Burn

Your POV

“You’re so foolish to trust him, we can do this without the Duke’s cooperation.” Nanami says, cupping your face tightly, and you sigh, shutting your eyes.

“I believe him-”

“How can you! Have you forgotten all the things he’s done to you?” Nanami demands, his voice so much harsher than you’ve heard it, making you back away a step, taking a breath.

“No, I have not, that’s why I’m leaving him, Ken. I don’t expect you to wait around all month, I already know that would be stupid and selfish. You do not have to stay with me-”

“I did not say I would leave you.” He whispers, but you see his brows draw together, you see the pain on his face, and you hate yourself more and more with every breath you take.

“Do not close yourself off, even after this annulment if I am to be alone, I will be fine, I will surely miss you sweet Kento, but I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy with you in my arms.”

“You’re miserable with me, you just won’t admit it, it drives you crazy and it hurts you. And that hurts me.” Your voice is hoarse now, as he shakes his head, denying his own truth. “You are hurting, be honest.”

“Because you’re trusting him, because I will not see you for a month? How can I be happy with that, when I want you to be mine, not his.” Kento’s voice grows more intense, as he’s looking down at you, taking your chin in his hands and running a thumb down your lip. “No I don’t want to share you, but at least I know you’re here, but now you’ll be with him only.”

He’s overwhelming you so much you feel your chest tighten, trying to focus on the right thing to say. “Things are moving so fast with us, I worry you’re not thinking rationally. You do not even know me that well to marry me so suddenly, I fear it’s your kindness, it’s your caring, your heart. Wanting to save me, care for me.”

He laughs then, but it’s a dark laugh, as he runs his hands down your body, pressing his fingers into your waist, against your ribcage. “No I do not think rationally with you, I’ve thought rationally my entire existence in my work, in my life, but with you I lose that completely, when I’m kissing you, when I’m inside you.” He’s pressing his body on yours, bending low as he murmurs. “There’s no rationale to how good you feel.”

You’re flushed, and overwhelmed, as you realize Kento has fallen so deeply, and you’re not sure you’re in that same way. You have love for Kento, you clearly have attraction, and it’s so easy to just be with him. You are happy, you enjoy him, but it’s not an all consuming need, and you don’t know what love truly is yet. You have never been taught such things.

Your mother told you nothing of sex, of marriage, and you had not even laid with your own husband, choosing Kento, and now your rash moment seems to just be hurting everyone. And why was Duke Gojo constantly on your mind, was it some trauma response as Kento theorizes, or is it so much more?

Is it the fact that his kisses destroy you?

Is it the fact that every day you feel worse for continuing with Nanami this way, but you do not know how to express it? And what future is there for you with him, surely your parents would disown you, society would disown you. And you do not mind such things for love, but you are unsure of everything, you wish so badly you could put proper thoughts together.

But how can you when you have Gojo acting…

Fuck, nice?

Was it some act, was it some game? And in the end, you need Gojo to end the marriage, you truly would have a horrible time without him, that’s where Nanami was a little wrong. You thought you were so sure of everything, but Nanami’s possessiveness and how deeply he feels brings a sinking feeling to your tummy, for fear of disappointing him, hurting him again.

It’s what you do, you hurt people, hurt them like you’re hurting, trying to find comfort in Nanami.

“I am not sure if I can return your love confession, that’s not fair to you-”

“You’re young, inexperienced, and this is new. I’m a very serious man, and I know what I want… and I take it.” He says softly, you sigh, biting your lower lip. “And I want you, I want to take care of you.”

“You do not owe me so much kindness.” You stroke his cheek with your gloved hand gently, and watch his lips set in a terse line.

“You have given me your body, your innocence, do you think these things mean nothing to me, like your… Duke thinks of them?” You blink a bit, hating the pain in his voice, but understanding it.

“I know they mean something, it was why I chose you to be my first.”

Kento sighs, pulling you against his hard body then, hazel eyes narrowing, thin nostrils flaring, you can tell he’s furious at the thought. “Please, don’t trust him, don’t leave me for a month to fall victim to such manipulation.”

“I don’t want to leave you! But I do want to help the villagers, and Satoru can help me with my parents even, that’s something we really need. You’re acting as if I will not face so many challenges-”

“Satoru, you call him Satoru?” He demands then, ignoring what you’re saying, and you sigh, shutting your tired eyes, feeling pulled every which way until you may break.

“Not to his face, never, I suppose I’m just sleepy.”

“Sleepy, why, were you just up all night with him?” It’s your turn to glare at him now, and Nanami rubs his eyes, exhaling and lowering his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry darling, I-”

“You said you forgave me, but you keep accusing me of doing more. I clearly broke your trust, and I don’t think that I can repair that.”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” His voice breaks, as he’s holding your hands and kissing them, sighing.

“I’ve given you every opportunity to run from me, to go be happy, you’re so handsome, so sweet, there is no way you wouldn’t find a lovely woman, with much less baggage. Please do not make me feel even worse than I do, I promise I hate myself enough.” You choke on the words.

Kento looks at you, stepping closer, brushing his hand down your cheek. “I do not regret meeting you, or doing this, but it’s killing me enough already. Now I must think of him near you and I don’t even get to see your pretty face?” His husky voice breaks your heart into pieces.

“Kento…” You’re crying now, and he’s swiping your tears, leaning down to kiss you, and you press your lips back, but when he has his hands gripping your hips, and then he eagerly starts to unlace your bodice, his tongue swiping in your mouth, you pause him, pushing him gently away. “We cannot, I gave him my word.”

His brows lower. “Your word? What about your word to me?” He says, and you lace up your bodice, blushing furiously.

“My word was to be honest, and I have been, I have told you what I did, and you are clearly still hurt. Perhaps-”

“Yes I’m hurt. But I still need you, it’s beyond wanting, I crave you, I’m falling so deeply, and now I’m terrified to lose you, because your Duke will manipulate you.”

“Ken…”

“You’re too innocent, you do not know what he could do.”

“I’m not so innocent anymore. I know you care… but I have an obligation here, and I think I owe it to try, if he is going to. It’s to end our marriage, and have all my dowry, which could go to my children some day. It’s a win win.”

“Not for me.” He says, and you feel your tummy lurch, as his words devastate you so much.

“No… not for you. Kento, here…” You’re taking off your necklace with shaky hands, as tears are burning your eyes, and Kento glares.

He stops your hands. “Do not take it off, it’s yours.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“You do, I just… I’m just upset. I hate him for what he did to you, and you’re so kind you’ll forgive him.” You lean back against the wall now, bones aching and exhausted, as you see the hurt you’ve caused by being so selfish, by wanting to be so happy with Kento, at his expense, falling deeper in self loathing.

“Perhaps you will find someone more worthy-”

“I want you.” He says again, softer, tilting up your chin. “I’ve wanted you since that night, when you ran off and disappeared. I won’t stop wanting you.”

“Kento…” He’s leaned down and kissing you again, tasting your salty tears, and he’s gripping you so tightly, holding you against him, but the kiss makes you sadder and sadder, his arms like a trap you wish to escape, and you hate yourself for feeling that way about him. “I am sorry that I hurt you, I never, ever wanted to.”

“I cannot bear it if you do this.” You’re a sobbing mess now, as his words hurt your heart, like he’s piercing a blade right between your breasts. “Kiss me, please, let me feel your perfect lips.”

You press yours against his again, as he holds you close, in his warm, cozy apartments, and you wonder if this is the last time you’ll see him. You wonder if he’ll find someone so beautiful and sweet and open like he deserves, and by the end of the month, you’d be all alone, on your own. No cruel… confusing… Duke Gojo, no sweet, perfect Nanami.

Perhaps just you and your thoughts.

Maybe that was for the best, so you would not hurt him anymore, and you could wallow in your own self doubts, free of Duke Gojo. You did want to be free of him, even if perhaps you all could get along somewhat at the end of this, Gojo could never love you, fuck he hates you, and you reciprocate it. Hate and toxic attraction was not love and could never be.

Nanami is kissing down your throat to your breasts, where they’re rising and falling with every breath, tongue hot and wet against your skin, his other hand slipping your skirts up. “Will you not even let me pleasure you?”

“I promised. I’m sorry but I cannot have him keep his half of the bargain if I am not going to.” You say softly, as his hands pause, and his hazel eyes are narrowed.

“Why keep your word of not sleeping with me, when did he care for your feelings?” Nanami whispers then, and you frown.

“He has been with no one for over a week. I do believe he’s serious about this, about righting wrongs.” 

“It’s as if you’re giving him more care than me.” He whispers, and you can’t take it then, as you feel the pain setting in, the self loathing. “You had no problem letting him lick you, despite my feelings, yet you cut yourself off of me now for him. What am I to think?”

“Kento, I think perhaps we should… cool down on this.”

He glares now, jaw setting. “Cool down?”

“Yes it’s too much, too soon. It’s all so foolish! How can we have this happy life you wish when you don’t truly know me? When you cannot trust anything I say.” Your voice is breaking, and you see the hurt written on his face.

“There’s time to get to know these things, for now I just know I’m hopelessly in love with you. All of you.”

“You’ll be disappointed the more you learn.” Nanami’s normally warm and cozy apartments feel like they’re closing in, like they’re so tiny. “You’re a perfect man, Nanami Kento, I fear I am far from perfection.”

“You’re perfect to me. You taste and look like perfection, don’t you know?” He’s touching you again, until he’s on his knees, pulling you against him, looking up at you, and your heart breaks. “Do not leave so soon.”

“Kento, get up don’t…” You’re pulling him up gently, and he has tears in his eyes now.

“I’m asking you not to do this. Will you please not go?” He whispers, cupping your face, and you wish you could give him the answer he needs, but you know you need to do this. Everything is screaming it, even if you wish it would scream for you to stay with sweet Nanami.

“I must do this. I’m so sorry.” You say softly, and he chokes on a cry, just as you do, hating yourself so much you can’t stand it.

Why did you run to him?

Why did you put so much on him!?

And now you hurt him more.

But this is the right decision, your gut, heart, and soul is telling you, to try to help the Duke’s villages, to try to at least become cordial with him by the end of this. But hurting Nanami in the process was never your intention, clearly he would be far better off without you, and you don’t even know if you can keep on, with how far his feelings have gotten so quickly.

You ache to return them fully, you ache to love Nanami, fuck you do adore him, but this all consuming need he has, how he burns for you, you do not. Every time you try to tell him, he gives you an excuse, a reason, and does not let you finish your words, the ones constantly stuck in your throat.

“You’re making a stupid, foolish decision. Truly you are. I don’t know how much I can save you from yourself, Duchess.” He says then, and your eyes shut, your gloves are sticky with your tears as you wipe them off your cheeks. “You’re young and naive, you have no clue what you’re doing.”

“I may be young and naive, but I know I need to do this.”

“So then you’ll choose him?”

“I’m not choosing anyone, Kento did you not hear!? It’s to help me annul the marriage! To mitigate the insane consequences-”

“And spending that time with him, you’ll have no annulment, surely you’ll end up right in his bed.” You gasp now, and he curses, shaking his head.

“You’ve accused me of being a whore a few times now, granted you may be right, but you should have said so that day I told you. Rather than us…”

“Do you regret it?” He asks softly, and you shut your eyes, struggling as you feel nausea rolling in waves in your tummy.

Do you regret it?

Should you have left him that day, instead of letting this go further, letting his feelings get deeper?

“I do not regret the action, or choosing you, but I do regret not knowing how deep your feelings were, and hurting you by not sharing them fully back. I regret ever, ever hurting you. I regret ever talking to you that day-”

“Don’t say that!”

“Why, it’s how you got involved. I’d rather have wallowed in my self pity, perhaps just-”

“I don’t regret it, anything about you. How could I, when you’re the best I have ever had? The most beautiful?” You’re so drained, now, you cannot focus on his words, it’s as if there’s a throbbing in your entire body, as your throat gets tighter and tighter, and you’re rubbing it now.

“I should not have slept in your bed. Not while I was with him.”

Nanami scoffs at that. “He’s slept with half of London, you blame yourself!?”

“Yes, because now I’m no better. Nanami… here.” You’re taking off his necklace again, and he’s shaking his head, handing it back.

“Stop that, please. I’m still in-”

“We will talk later on, with cooler heads. For now, you keep this, for someone far better might require it.” You choke up as you speak, as you hand him the necklace gently, and he curses, pulling you to him, kissing you again. Something feels so desperate about it, like how Satoru kisses you.

Satoru, always on your fucking mind.

It’s not right to have him on your mind with Nanami, you’re not giving him your everything, and he’s giving you his absolute heart and soul. “Don’t do it. I cannot wait for you.”

“I do not want you to wait. I understand.”

“So you’ll break me?” He whispers, and you look away, eyes burning from your tears. “Break my heart, walking out this door, when you know you should be with me, you know how I’ll give you everything.”

“I don’t deserve your everything.” You break away then, and he’s behind you, pressing you against the door, hugging you tightly, burying his face against your neck. “Nanami, please let me go, please forget me.”

“How can I forget you, when my every waking moment is spent thinking of you, wishing you were in my arms, in my home? Knowing you’re with him, knowing he’s horrible to you. Knowing you’re not apt enough to… you don’t know enough to handle him.”

You blink a bit then, tensing in his hold. “Are you saying I’m not smart enough?”

“No just not… just stay, please? Or you will end me here completely.”

“I don’t want to end you! I never wanted to do this to you. You will not understand my decision, you may hate me for it, that’s fine. It’s what I’m owed for hurting such a beautiful person. A beautiful soul. So Ken, if I never see you again, if you find someone so much better, just know I will always care for you, and always be thankful. But this is best for you. You know it is.”

“You’re so foolish, Duchess.” He says with a sigh, finally backing up, allowing you a moment to breathe then, and you laugh without humor.

“Perhaps I am. I appreciate everything you have done, and respect any decision you make. Should I run into you again, I hope to see you smile.” He brushes a tear from your cheek then, turning your face towards him, pressing a kiss on each cheek.

“I see. Then I only hope you do not end up burned by your decision. I can no longer save you from it.” He says then, and the finality of it along with his tears devastated you.

You’re ruining something so good, but you must let him go.

Perhaps forever? You do not know.

Just yesterday you’d bought into the dream, of being happy, but you can’t take away Nanami’s happiness in the process. Surely he hurts now, but letting him go will allow him to find a true love, a woman that worships him just like he does, one that will love him so very much, as he deserves. Nanami Kento deserves everything.

“I wish you every happiness in this world. I hope I will become a distant thought soon.”

“You know it’s not possible to forget you. Good bye, Duchess.”

“Farewell, Nanami Kento.” You say then, and he opens the door, allowing you out, and you greedily suck in air as you do, on a foggy London morning. You feel your collarbone, the bare neck now, how quickly everything has changed.

You’re riding in the carriage later, replaying the conversation in your head. Nanami's words were not kind, but they were accurate. You are young, naive and foolish, and now you’ve likely lost him forever. All because you think that you should let him be happy, but he cannot see that now.

You want Nanami’s happiness, but you do not deserve it.

You did not deserve Gojo’s cruelty either.

But something about helping him, or understanding him…

You sigh as you shut your eyes, heading towards a man who ‘hates’ you, leaving a man that’s falling in ‘love’ with you.

Are you making a horrible decision?

Satoru’s POV

You walk inside the manor now, your cheeks puffy from crying, and your neck… it’s bare. The little gold necklace is completely gone, as you step inside, quietly walking up to where he is sitting at the dining room table, and he stands then, nervously assessing your face. He aches to touch you, but he’s so afraid, is he going to scare you, is he going to irritate you?

He used to care naught for such things, but now he longs to hold you in his arms, but what comfort would you find there? When he is the source of your pain, including what must have happened when you told your lover of his plan. Of course Satoru wants a chance before you’re gone forever, he does not deserve that chance, no, but he aches in his heart and soul for one.

“Is everything… Did something happen?” He asks, and you sit next to him then, not across like usual, surprising him.

“You’re asking me if I’m okay? Are you ill or something?” He snorts then, rolling his blue eyes, pouring you the nasty coffee you enjoy and handing you a cup. “And you’re giving me coffee? Are you seriously ill?”

“Can I try to fucking be nice?”

“Can you?”

“Insolent girl.” He sighs then, sipping his tea and watching you, your hands are shaking as you try to hold the cup, gloves soaked with what he presumes are tears. “Allow me?”

You pause then, your beautiful face looking up at him, lips parted, as he gently tugs on your gloves, revealing your delicate little hands. You say nothing as he holds them for a moment, as he sees that ring on your finger, he’s unsure why you wear it, when your marriage has been nothing for you. Five pretty little pearls on a gold band adorning your finger.

He wants to kiss your hand, how stupid, how foolish he is. What effects do you have on his psyche, on his heart, as he inhales your sweet scent, the scent that makes him ache with longing. You’re just letting him hold your hand then, as he watches emotions form once more in your glistening eyes.

“Thank you.” You say softly, taking the cup with a shaky breath.

“Why do you drink such a nasty beverage?” He asks then, and you blink just a bit, looking up at him.

“Do you actually wish to know?”

“That's why I asked.”

You sigh, setting the cup down, spinning the little rose gold spoon inside of it, before looking back at you. “I have asthma.”

Satoru is surprised then, eyes widening just a bit. “Asthma? Your parents never…”

“Yes, they did not want their daughter to be ‘not good stock’ as they said. What if I pass it to the baby and this and that. As if it’s so horrible, as if I’m less than for not being able to breathe.” Satoru remembers then.

‘Just breathe’

And the look on your face, incredulous, as you’d been clinging to your throat, then the pieces fall together, you’re always rubbing it, you have coughing fits he notices at night, always sipping coffee. And he, like a goddamn fool, has upset you over and over, probably making it worse.

“More reasons not to desire me I suppose.” You mumble, sipping your drink once more, and Satoru scoffs.

“What of it, you seem to have it under control, it’s not a flaw, it’s just… well, just who you are.”

You look at him in shock now, lips parted, and then you close them, clearing your throat, your lashes lowering over your eyes, casting shadows on your pretty face. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing. So, what happened with your lover?”

You sigh, looking away, shutting your eyes, your breath catching just a bit, chest rising and falling. “I hurt him.”

“Hurt him?”

“Yes, by agreeing to this, but also… I had to let him go.” Satoru’s heart pounds then, for just yesterday he was so sure there was nothing he could ever do to have a chance. Not that he has one now, but some form of small hope blossoms in his chest, something he has never truly felt aside from that night in the carriage.

“You ended things?” He asks carefully, trying not to show how much hope was in his voice.

“It was necessary, I hurt him by my decisions. He has no trust in me. I’ve only served to disappoint.”

“Disappoint? He got so much of you, how did you disappoint?”

“I shouldn’t have even done it. It was rash and foolish. Now he’s completely heart broken, and all by my hand. I did not deserve him.” You cover your face now, your little sobs wrenching his heart. “I deserve nothing but misery.”

“What? Stop that. I…” Satoru’s tentatively reaching out for your back now, and you tense when he does, as he rubs your back up and down gently. “Is this… would you like me to stop?”

“No, do not stop.” You exhale, shaky as he pulls your chair closer, still rubbing your back. “Are you comforting me?”

“I’m sure I’m quite shit at it.” You giggle then, even through your tears, snorting with laughter as he pats your back now. “I’m so shit at it you laughed though.”

“Indeed, I did. Gojo, I would love to believe this, believe you can be kind, but I don’t know if I can. And I let such a good thing go, trusting you to keep our agreement, will you?”

“I will, if you want to end things, end things, however I can with our families. I will not make you stay.” Fuck he wishes he could, but he cares enough to stop keeping you in misery. You put a tentative hand on his thigh then, your touch burns through his trousers, it kills him how good it feels, but he stays still, watching you.

“I am trusting you, foolish as it may be.”

“I’m sorry you are… well, hurt. I can’t say I’m sorry he’s not fucking you.” You roll your eyes then, shaking your head.

“At least you’re honest.”

“I thought you loved sex so much?”

You worry your lower lip with your teeth now. “I suppose I embellished to hurt you more. I don’t know if I’m any better than you at this point.”

Satoru hates that he’s relieved. “You’re much better than I am.” He says quietly, as you fiddle with some stitching on his pants, his family crest, your fingers running around it, and fuck if it doesn’t make him hard, just that touch. God everything about you turns him on, just last night after leaving your room he’d had to make himself cum thinking about you.

What he’d said.

How you’d reacted.

“I told you about my asthma, tell me something. If we are to know each other somewhat.”

Satoru freezes then. “I will tell you something important if you can help me today. For now, I have something simple to share. I love horses.”

You smile then, so brightly, it stops his heart. “I also love horses. Do you enjoy riding them?”

“I do, it’s very calming, and freeing. There will be some for sale we may look upon while we’re there if you wish for one.”

“Oh, but I won’t even be here… long enough for…”

Stop those words, they kill him.

He already knows you’re almost gone.

“Well, you can take it with you if you choose, a gift from me. I notice your gift from your lover is…”

“Yes, I gave it back. He should bestow it upon someone worthy. This does not mean suddenly I’m yours, of course.”

“I know that.” He says softly. You nod a bit, standing and straightening your skirts, tilting your head a bit to look at him for a moment.

“I will freshen up and we can head to town?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

You smile again, so sweet and just a hint of one, but the way it makes you even more beautiful kills him. You head up the winding staircase then, and Satoru tries to control his breathing, tries to focus. He wants to make today and the rest of his time good for you, it’s the bare minimum he could do before you disappear, leaving a void he never knew was there.

He would need to tell you, explain, even if it makes no sense, even if it does not help him, purely because you deserved to know, at least some of what happened to make him treat you this way. Never an excuse…

Could he find the courage?

You two walk through the poor village, your hand rests delicately in his inner elbow, you look so pretty in your day dress, but when don’t you look pretty? Satoru wants to act as if this is real, that it’s no agreement, that it’s something true. Your face is scrunched up in worry as you look upon the acres of farmland and the conditions those are living in.

“Gojo… this is so… we must help them.” You look at him, your hand gently squeezing his arm, and Duke Gojo nods.

“Yes, I want to help them, it will be much more than a month of course, but I appreciate you helping at all.” You sigh now, as you all approach the main farmer that supplies the Gojo Manor with food and grains.

“Your Grace!” The farmer and his wife bow and curtsey, then look at you and do the same. “Your Grace!”

“No need to be so formal.” You say, and Satoru watches your soft smile as you walk up to them, they seem instantly enamored by you.

“We are here to discuss some better conditions, I know my father… was slacking when it came to this.” Satoru says, and they nod carefully. “Please, be honest with me so I may help.”

“Rest in peace to his grace.” Satoru tries not to snort. “But indeed, his short run as Duke was absolutely devastating to the villages, we had hoped that perhaps you would…”

“Hush, Richard!” His wife hisses, and Satoru holds a hand up.

“No, I need honesty. Go on.”

Richard sighs, wiping his sweaty brow. “The taxes have made it near impossible to do anything but break even, and we give as much food to the manor as we can, but here people are hungry” Satoru feels sick then, thinking of his conditions, thinking of how he let this all go, let all of this go because of his hatred.

“Cut the manor’s supplies by twenty-five percent, to start.” You say then, and Satoru smiles, as you look at him curiously, and he just nods.

“We could never!” Richard’s wife says, clutching the bodice of her old brown dress she wears.

“Indeed you may, we have a surplus. And Duke Gojo will lower the taxes as much as he can, it may not go back to how it was, but he can certainly lower them, yes husband?”

Fuck you’re amazing.

“Indeed, I will lower them… twenty-five percent.” He smiles at you, and you light up, nodding. Richard and his wife begin to cry, then they’re on their knees at your feet, you squeak adorably, yanking on them.

You bring everyone to their knees, don’t you?

“No, no! Get up!” You hold their hands and smile at them. “We will work on fixing this, you have my word. For now that will provide much needed relief.”

“You’re an angel, a godsend.” His wife says through her tears, and you pull a fancy handkerchief out of your reticule, handing it to her and holding her shoulder gently.

Fuck you are an angel. Satoru marvels as you start speaking to them both, and Satoru does not have to do much, not with you there, not with others around coming to you, and marveling at your beauty, and your kind nature. You are so gracious and sweet to every last one of them, taking your time as the Duke speaks to the men about the financials.

“Please make us a list of what you need. We can come and help with supplies or anything.” You say before you all leave. “Make a list for us, yes?”

‘Indeed. Oh, your Grace, you married an angel.” Richard says now, and you shake your head with a little smile.

“You’re… fuck, you’re incredible.” Satoru says as you all are waving goodbye and heading to the next person you must speak to. You blush prettily at that, looking nervously at the ground.

“You’re being so nice. It’s so weird?” He laughs a bit then.

“I was very nice once upon a time. Let’s say someone broke me. Like I clearly tried to break you.” He hates himself as he speaks, but you take his hand carefully for a moment, he feels the satin of your gloves before you pull away.

“I’m not broken just yet. Who's next?”

“The landlords of the village, I do need to speak alone to them, they do not respect women’s opinions. As if their wives aren’t smarter.” You giggle and the sound does things to his entire body. “Would you mind spending some time looking at the horses for sale as I convene with them?”

“Oh, of course. I will meet you there.” It’s so easy to pretend you both are a couple, so very easy to pretend that Satoru almost believes it, and so quickly. When he does finish threatening the landlords and getting them to lower their rents, he finds you petting a beautiful white horse and feeding it an apple. You look back at him, your curls bouncing as you grin.

Fuck, his heart stops completely, as the rays of sunshine bounce off your skin, making it glow, and he wishes upon anything he had not been so horrible, so foolish, because now all he will get are glimpses of you. There would be nothing else, once you are gone.

“Come here, look at her, she’s a beauty!” You say with a laugh, and Satoru takes a breath and comes over then, petting the horse’s face gently, she looks up at him with big brown eyes.

“Quite a beauty. Is this the one you want?”

“You cannot buy me a horse-”

“Why not, it’s a trifle to me. At least enjoy… before you leave.” He mumbles then, as the words hurt to say. You look at the horse carefully, then look at Satoru, smiling so cute, he watches your face light up. Today he’s seen you smile so much, he does not think he ever has before, not after what he’s done.

Is this who you are?

“That is most generous, Gojo. Thank you.” You hug him before you seem to think better, easing back with a tighter smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Let me purchase it, we can have her tied to the carriage.” Satoru purchases the horse and can’t stand how adorable you are, it causes some twinge he can’t place.

Satoru had long thought you so beautiful, long wanted your body, long enjoyed how you challenged him, your strength and confidence. But now he’s noticing every little thing you do, every gesture, every soft smile, everything about you, constantly endearing you to him. He should not get so close, so hopeless, knowing you do not want him, knowing you can never be his.

How can he fall for you now? When you’re not his, even if you’ve ended things, it’s not as if you suddenly would forgive and forget what Satoru’s done, especially in just a day or two. His problem last time was that he did not give you time, he just expected things to happen, as things always have for him, as a Duke, but you were not some conquest or some quick thing.

You are so much more.

Should he have hope, or is he a fool?

Now you all are in the midst of a little fair, where there are all sorts of villagers dancing and laughing, and you look up at Satoru then, sighing. “Although they’re so very underprivileged, don’t they seem so happy? So much more happy than…”

“Than you?”

“Than us.” You answer, and he sighs, nodding.

“They do seem happier. Perhaps finding the joy in community, in lovers, in family, whereas we just play our roles. Though I suppose your role will end soon.” He can’t stop the hurt in his voice, and you notice, blinking back emotion. You shouldn’t care, why do you still care at all?

“Perhaps. I know I would find joy in children, in family. Oh, hello!” A little girl runs up to you then, practicing her curtsey, making you giggle.

“Princess, Princess!” She says to you, and you look like one, don’t you, it’s why Satoru says so. You are straight out of some fairy tale, and Satoru is some beast you’re stuck with, surely.

“Aha, I am a Duchess, so very close. He is the Duke, so almost a Prince!” She points to you, and he chuckles a bit, shaking his head as you bend down, uncaring of the dirt at the bottom of your skirts. In fact you seem more alive here than you ever have at a dance or at the manor.

Satoru watches you light up then, as you stand up and hold that little girl in your arms, with the biggest smile on your lovely face, fuck it lights everything up, a sight he never thought he’d see near him. Not when he brought you so much pain before, so much so he detests himself for it, for clearly dimming this beautiful, bright soul you have with so much darkness.

Your little laugh is precious as you hold onto the kid, playing with her ringlets, and the kid grins so big back at you. “You so bootiful Dushess!” She speaks, and even Satoru smiles, he can’t help it, the kid is so genuine, and you’re so adorable with her.

“Me, beautiful, oh thank you, but you are such a beautiful Princess!” You say to her, and then you take off that little blue tiara you have, putting it on her little head as you sit her down on the ground. The little girl lights up, running to Satoru then, tugging at his lapels.

“I is a Pwincess!” She says with a big smile, and Satoru can’t stop his chuckle, adjusting the tiara worth far too much to be something for play, but then he notices you watching him, smiling at him so big, nodding.

God you’re beautiful.

You’re just glowing as you whisper - “tell her she is one”

Satoru sighs, leaning down on his haunches now. “You are indeed a true Princess, look at you! Can you twirl?”

“Twirl? Hmm!” She spins and he laughs, then takes her tiny little hand in his, spinning her instead, and she giggles like crazy, then Satoru looks at you, your hand on your chest, your eyes glassy as you smile.

“There, Princesses twirl like that. Let me show you with the Duchess. May I, my lady?” Satoru walks to you and bows at the waist, you blush so pretty as you give him a delicate curtsey.

“Indeed, you may, Prince Gojo.” She teases, winking at the little girl, who is bouncing up and down, as other kids come up with their parents, smiling at you both. Satoru takes your little hand in his big one, the other on your waist, realizing for once you are wearing short stays and not a corset, and he can feel your waist.

He has to take a breath for a moment, as he spins you, and then looks at the children with a smirk. “We need music!”

“Oh, let me sing!” One of the little kids says, and then they are all singing together, quite horribly, making you giggle as you look up at Satoru, and fuck you take his breath away.

Could you ever forgive him, care for him, stay with him?

The thought of you leaving makes his chest hurt so bad it’s like someone is ripping his heart out, to know he pushed you right into the arms of another, he hates himself for it. He wants so badly to know you, and he loves what he’s learned today, that you would be the best mother in the world. That you light up around children.

Perhaps your baker would have given you those, but for a heartstopping moment as you dance in his arms, in the middle of a poor little village with kids singing, he wonders if he’d change his vow to not have an heir, if only it was with you. If only you would stay, he would do anything for you now, anything to keep this smile.

He knows he has next to no chance, he knows he’s only beginning to repair anything, but you make him want to dream of it, make him want to try. As he dips you over his arm, and whispers against your ear - “A pretend kiss, Duchess?”

“You’re such a cad.” You whisper back, as he leans you back up to stand, eyeing your beautiful lips.

“For the children!?” He whispers, looking at them, then at you, and you sigh, looking up at him and nodding with a little smile.

“For them.” Satoru cups your face and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips, and everyone is cheering.

“Royalty!”

“So in love!”

“So romantic!”

It’s not true, you’re doing this because he’s got you in an arrangement, because he’s trying his best to hold onto you, to just get a little bit of your attention and time before you slip through his fingers. But he feels you tremble in his arms, your arms wrap around his neck, and when you pull back you are flushed, smiling shyly, before you compose yourself and grin at the onlookers.

After you all had moved on and were walking back to the carriage, Satoru takes your hand, and you pause, before removing it, looking up at him. He sighs, his own hand at his side, as he burns for you, for your affection, something he pushed and pushed away. You sigh then, as you all get to the carriage, and look up at him, taking his hand.

You make his heart falter.

“Sorry, you’re trying to be so much kinder, I do appreciate it. But I’m too afraid that it’s a lie, that I have lost someone who loves me because I am foolish.” Satoru nods then, thinking of that man on you, swallowing down the sickness.

“I have one thing to say. If you would let me.” You take a breath, nodding then, and he cups your cheek, looking down at you, and feeling you tense, biting your lower lip. “I wish that was our first kiss.”

Tears form in your glittering eyes, as you suck in a breath now, looking away and your lip trembles. You shake your head, and Satoru’s heart is pounding, he’s never vulnerable, he’s so terrified, will you shoot him down, and how will he react? He’s so fucking scared…

“I wish that was our first kiss too.” You say finally, and he gasps, as you then turn away, and his hand touches your waist gently, helping you up into the carriage. He comes to sit next to you and you take his hand again, carefully with a small smile. “I wish we… well I guess it…”

“Yes. I agree.” You pull away but he pulls it back, and your eyes lock, the breaths loud in the carriage as it rocks gently. “I know you’re leaving me, but could I please enjoy this while I can?”

“Enjoy my hand?”

“Yes.”

You nod then, pulling back and taking off your glove, smiling as you hold his hand so carefully, now bare, your skin against his making him yearn ever more. “You mean like this?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He murmurs, holding your little hand, and you nod just a bit, as the sunlight filters through the carriage blinds, and Satoru thinks for once, maybe he could open up, he could try even if it’s going to end in his own pain. Even if you’re too far gone, he cannot give up. He has to try for you.

“Today was beautiful.” You say after a few minutes of quiet, and he looks over at you now.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Don’t… please…” Your voice breaks, and he sighs, shaking his head and turning to you now, still holding your hand. “Duke Gojo…”

“I should have told you from the beginning. That night, our wedding night, how beautiful you looked, your lacy little outfit, your hair shimmering.”

“Don’t.”

“You looked perfect, your body I can only imagine fully, I’ve just seen it in pieces, but I know it’s beautiful. I know your heart is beautiful. I saw you today, uncaring of dirt, treating these people as equals. I have never met a fucking noble like that.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“I gave you no credit until now. None. I was horrible.” He hates himself then, as emotion wrecks him, emotions he wants to keep in as he cups your face. You have little tears glistening down your cheeks. “I know you’re not mine. But it was so beautiful to pretend.”

You grip his wrist, as if to take it off, but you don’t, you shake your head at him now. “Why did you do this? Why did you cause this? Do you not understand, if you did not, I would have… fallen… I…”

“What?” He asks quietly, and now you take a breath and shut your eyes, as you speak words he thinks are impossible.

“Even now, after all you’ve done, I feel things for you, I don’t know if they are hatred, I have no idea, but they consume me. Consume me so much I had to let a good man go, because you’re always in my fucking head. I hate it, I hate it so.” You take his hand off then, and Satoru exhales, as you swipe your tears off your cheeks.

“Do you think of me?” He asks, and you laugh then, without humor, eyes glistening with a sheen of tears as you study him.

“You are like a plague, a sickness, I hate it. I hate you so much, Satoru.”

“Satoru?”

“That’s what you hear!? Not that I hate you, that I hate what you do to me!? That I can’t rid myself of you? Even when we’re done, I have no clue if I will, thinking of your body on me, thinking of your lips on mine, biting mine. When I had someone perfect, and all I desire is you. I hate it, I hate it.” Your words get hoarse, as your breasts heave in your bodice, as your cheeks flush with anger, or more.

Satoru scowls then, grabbing you by your waist. “You think you don’t constantly consume me? I told you I burn for you, I meant it, in every way. Not just your body, not just your face, it’s everything, everything about you making me fawn over you like some stupid schoolboy. Just by existing you destroy me.”

“You destroy me.” You’re crying fully now, and you shock him then, bringing him down to meet your lips.

You’re kissing him!?

Satoru has always kissed you, mostly when you fought, when you were so sexy when angry he could not stop himself, when you pushed him to the point he could not hold back any longer. But now you’re pouring your passion into his lips, and he pulls you against him, moaning into your lips, tasting your sweet lips, drinking you in, as you’re even closer against him.

You pull back, shaking your head at him, struggling to breathe. “I hate that I want you, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t!” You smack at his chest then, and he lets you, he deserves your hits he deserves none of your kisses, none of your kindness.

“I know you shouldn’t. I know.” He brushes your hair back, falling out of your perfect little coif, and you’re trembling in his hold, as he looks at you so lovingly, as the carriage is reminding him of that night, the night he tasted you.

“Why do I want you?” You are asking yourself more than him, as he’s right against your lips, as you breathe each other’s air, as he can feel your pulse racing under his thumb as he feels your little wrist in his grip. “I’m a whore, you’re right.”

“You are not a whore. I should have never called you that. I’m… fuck I’m so sorry for saying it, for blaming you. I just… I wanted to be your first.”

“You didn’t deserve to.”

“I know.”

You sigh then, head falling back as he pulls you into his embrace, as he feels you tensing, then relaxing in his grip, now one of your thighs is over his, and he’s slipping his hands up your skirt, inch by inch, watching you and waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you don’t. You’re just watching him, as he reveals your legs, clad in little white stockings with bows.

“Like the wedding night.” He murmurs out loud without realizing, and you shift, even closer, it’s as if you’re both drawn to each other like magnets, like he’s drawn to your gravity, and you his, as he’s consumed by images of you. “I should have given you a true wedding night. Not having you crying and hurt. You should never forgive me, never, for any of it.”

“I know I should not. I know.” Your hand runs down his chest then, as Satoru’s hand is even higher, and he finds you, soaking wet and dripping, and he moans as he feels you, so slick. You cry out, head falling back, hips rolling for more. “I should not want you. I hate it. I hate you.”

“You should hate me.” He whispers, as he slides a finger in your tight entrance, watching your eyelashes flutter, as your breath quickens, and you whimper from the back of your throat, making Satoru so hard he can’t stand it, it’s painful. When he leans down to kiss you again, lips hovering. “Let me make you cum, please, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Fuck it means so much to him though.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, I’m stupid.”

“So am I. But you’re not stupid, it’s… something between us, I’ve never felt it, even with my… with my ex. Ever.”

You look up in surprise, but then just moan out loud when he finds your clit now, and he can’t stop himself, he’s dragging you on his lap, you’re straddling him, as he fingers you, as you’re soaking his hand. And you’re clinging to his shoulders, kissing him desperately, messily, unpracticed still but fuck you’re good at it, as he pumps his fingers in your eager little cunt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful.” He whispers, enamored by the goddess on his lap now, and you’re clenching around his fingers now, gasping. “That’s it, cum Princess.”

Your POV

Satoru makes you cum right on his long fingers, so easily, so hard you’re blinded, as your entire body overheats, and you’re trembling in his hold, as he presses you down now, and you feel it, his length so hard and pressed between your lips. You moan out, grinding and rolling your hips, and fuck you want more, you can’t take it, when he looks up at you with those blue eyes.

When those elegant fingers unlace your bodice, and he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, pressing up, and your head falls back, as waves of pleasure roll through your body, then he’s kissing you again, and you can’t think, you can’t function. You need Satoru Gojo like you need air, and you’re horrible for it, for wanting him so goddamn bad.

You break away and his pretty lips pout, thin brows draw together. “Please, it doesn’t have to-”

“It means something. It does, and I don’t know what it fucking means. I don’t know anything, Satoru.” You can’t help it, but feel vulnerable in his strong arms, and he’s cupping your face so delicately.

“You can still leave me, I understand. Just let me please you again, and again, until you pass out from pleasure, until-” Gojo’s desperation, his pleading, and his stupidly pretty face do you in.

You’ve fought it so long and you’re weak for him.

“Fuck it.” You pull back then, to his shock, unbuttoning him eagerly, and his eyes are wide in shock, as his own breaths hitch, and you find his length with your hand, stroking his pretty cock, watching his own head fall back.

“Oh my god I’m fucking dreaming.” He whispers, as you’re stroking up and down, feeling his hot skin, he’s so hard for you, and he’s kissing you again and again, moaning into your mouth. “Fuck I could cum just from that. Pathetic for you, fuck you.”

“Fuck you, fuck you. Hate you Satoru.” You whisper, then he scowls at you, gripping your hair.

“Should fuck that bitchy mouth.” His aggressive words just turn you on more, and he stops himself. “Fuck I shouldn’t say that, I’m sorry, I’m trying to-”

“Fuck my mouth then.” You say, earning him sputtering at you, before he’s pushing you down on your knees in the carriage, and he’s shoved his cock in your mouth, and you’re so wet it’s stupid, as he groans, hitting your throat.

“Fuck, feel so good, slutty throat, isn’t it?” You just nod, pathetic like he is, you want him to call you it, you love his cock hitting the back of his throat, love him moaning, whimpering above you as he’s cupping your face. “Oh my god, fuck.”

“Mmm.” Is all you manage, as you’re playing with your pussy under your skirts, aching for him.

“So slutty, you’ll play with yourself? No.” He yanks your hand off now, sucking on your fingers and groaning. “Only I can touch you.”

You pull back then, letting him go with a pop of your lips, eyeing the precum on his tip, before looking back to Satoru, glaring. “Only you!?”

“I want to fuck this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as the carriage stops then, and you realize what you’re doing. You hurriedly run out, leaving him to adjust himself and chase you, you can’t breathe, fuck you can’t… “Please, please… don’t leave, don’t run from me. Please it can mean nothing if you want. Just use me.”

“Use you… what… I…” Satoru stops you in the halls again, pressing you into that wall he’d had you on before, barring you with his arms on either side.

“You can still go. Just please, give me this moment, I have never wanted someone like this, I’ve never needed someone like this.” You shake your head, trying to come to your senses as he’s consuming you. “I’ll just make you cum, you don’t have to touch me again.”

“I liked touching you, sucking you! Fuck you for that!” You shove at him, and he exhales, so tall over you, so beautiful as his face is so close, as his hand slides to your bodice, undoing it lace by lace, and you’re on fire for him.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You do!”

“I don’t. I hated you because… fuck… you look like someone, who hurt me, okay? Just like her.” He’s cupping your face, and you blink in surprise, feeling him open, feeling his vulnerability. “It’s no excuse, and I can explain more later, but please, please let me keep touching you, I know I don’t fucking deserve to, but please.”

Satoru finally confirms what you thought.

You want to know more, but your addled, overheated mind can only think how much you want him. “It doesn’t mean I’ll stay. It doesn’t.”

He’s unlaced you fully now, and unzipping your skirts, letting them fall to a pool at your ankles. You’re in just your chemise now, nothing else, and in the middle of the manor, where any servant could walk out. You are on fire everywhere he touches, everywhere he kisses, as he picks you up now, your stocking clad legs wrapped around his hips.

“I know. I know. Let me have you cumming on my face again, let me drink every bit of you, please. There is no one I desire as you.”

“Liar, liar!” You cry out as he’s kissing you again, as he’s grinding his hips and pressing against you. “Liar.”

“I was a liar. I was. Not now. You are a madness, a black hole, sucking me in every minute you breathe.” You can’t take it, as you’re letting him carry you, as he’s shutting the door to his room, and you glare at his bed.

“How many whores came on it? I won’t fuck you on it.” You say then, and he grins like a little shit head.

“You are going to fuck me?”

“No!”

“Hmm. They’ve been cleaned. But I can fuck you on the wall, like a pretty little slut, is that what you want?”

You scoff, shoving at him. “I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I hate you.”

“Mmm, I know, Princess.”

“Not a Princess- fuck!” Satoru’s slipped off his coat, his shirt, and you drink in his perfect body, as you slide your chemise down now, and he’s staring at you, dropping to his knees, mouth dropping open.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Every bit of you.” He presses kisses on your tummy, as you feel emotions consuming you when he pulls down your stockings gently, as you feel Satoru’s energy taking over, as you cannot stand hardly from just his breath against you.

“I should not want you. I should not. I hate myself for it.”

Satoru looks up at you, his blue eyes swirling as he inhales you, mouth kissing your pussy just the slightest bit, making your hips jerk, as he throws a thigh over his shoulder. “I hate myself for hurting you. I hate myself so much.”

His words break you, you can’t stop the tears, of desire, hatred, confusion, of everything, of his vulnerability as he kisses your inner thigh, biting it hard, and then the pain makes you even wetter. “I hate myself and I hate you.”

“I hate myself for making you hate me.”

“Fuck… fuck just…”

“Just what?” He raises a brow, and you glare.

“Just…” You press his head against you now, and he moans, tongue lapping at you as only he can, as if he knows every spot, every inch, fucking you with his tongue as his nose bumps your sensitive clit, then he’s sinking two fingers in, and you’re cumming embarrassingly fast, as he drinks you. “Satoru!”

“Oh my god.” He groans, vibrating you as he continues fingering, looking up at you. “I can do this all fucking day. Nothing else.”

“Mmm, liar, you liked me sucking you.” He smirks then.

“Are you talking shit to me, insolent brat?”

“Sure am. Fuck you for being that good at this. Ah!” He’s sucking on your clit now, humming on it until your knees get weak, and you knock him down to the floor, eagerly grinding on him again, and he flips you on your back, the cool marble against overheated flesh, hovering over you.

You can’t speak then, not when he’s covered in your slick all over his face, not when he’s shoving two fingers back in, watching you fall apart hungrily on his goddamn floor, and you’re writhing under him. “Want to be fucked on the floor, maybe you are just a pretty little whore.”

“Oh fuck you, Mr. I fuck the brothel. Hate you.” He chuckles then, pulling out his fingers and sliding them in your mouth then, making you choke out as you taste yourself.

“Shut you up. Ah!” You bite his fingers now, and Satoru winces, shaking them off and laughing like a psycho. “Evil little bitch.”

“Cruel, mean ass fucking Duke. Hate you, mmm.” Satoru’s cock is at your entrance, and you’re cumming just from it rubbing on your clit, he gasps then, his jaw clenching. “Mmm!”

“Cumming from that, are you so pathetic, Princess?” He whispers, and you glare up at him, on your elbows now, he shoves you down, thigh high over his arm, and he looks at you, eyes darting back and forth on your face. “Ready to actually get fucked, like the pretty slut you are?”

“All talk, aren’t you, bet you- ah!” Satoru’s cock has shoved fully inside you now, and you’re shuddering as you try to take it, as he’s filled you so full, and he pauses then, lips parted, looking down at you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, leaning lower, a hand sliding up your ribcage, his forehead resting on yours for a moment. “You feel better than anything. Perfect.”

For once, the word does not hurt.

Because Satoru feels perfect inside of you.

“So tight. So wet. Oh my- fuck-” Satoru slides out, then back in, and you’re screaming out at it, at how he’s grinding his tip on your cervix, something you’ve never felt, so intense you’re shaking. “Beautiful.”

“Oh shut up, fucking… don’t make me like you… just… fuck me, ah!” Satoru’s stroking in you now, and your head slams into the floor at how good it feels, as he’s moaning over you, kissing down your throat, your breasts, fucking you harder and harder, so hard it hurts, but you want it you want- “more, more.”

“So slutty, need to get fucked good huh?” You say nothing, and he slams into you hard, and you’re cumming again, so intense you can’t see, everything goes blurry, and he then is pulling out, making you whine. “Cock hungry, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off, Satoru. Fuck-” He picks you up now, throwing you on his bed, and slamming back into you, groaning as he rolls his hips, as he snaps them into your pussy over and over, and you’ve never felt that good. You’re losing yourself in him, in his cock, his hands, his lips, his everything.

Just physical, it has to be, you can’t love him.

You can’t, you won’t, you never will.

You’re stupid.

But fuck his cock is wrecking every thought you had, and where Nanami at this point would be done, this psycho is just getting started it seems, as he’s pulling both your legs up, fucking your deeper. You’re clinging to his blankets desperately as he pumps, and your head is going side to side.

“Gonna fucking ruin you, Princess, for anyone.” He whispers, shoving your thighs against your breasts, and you’re gushing all around him, as he pumps so deep. “Make your cunt mine.”

“It’s not yours. It’s not. Ah! Mmm!” Satoru’s turned you then, and you’re on your tummy, panicking, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Gonna fuck you like this, Princess. What, thought you were so experienced, huh?” He slides his cock in as you’re on your tummy, and he’s so deep like this, you feel him everywhere. He takes you over, as he buries his head against your neck, biting it, his hand sliding low as you’re shattering, unsure of your existence.

“It’s too much, too much.” You whine out, and he laughs then, psycho ass duke, rolling his fingertips on your clit, and you can’t take it, your head falls back, and he’s got a hand around your throat.

“Too much, Princess? What he couldn’t fuck you like this?” He shoves in so deep while he’s squeezing your throat, you feel like you’re floating. “You like it, me choking you, don’t you?”

“Fuck you.” He smiles against your cheek, his silky white hair tickling you, moaning into your ear then, sounding so sexy it pushes you over the edge.

“Feel her pulsing around me, fuck she wants my cum, doesn’t she? Slutty cunt, fuck I almost would just to feel it.” His words are madness, as he keeps squeezing, as he’s slamming his cock inside you, and you can hear the squelching wetness as she sucks him in, greedy for more, until your orgasm rocks you. “Oh fuck, that’s it, Duchess, that’s it. Cum all over me.”

“Hate you, hate you.” You whisper out, but you hate yourself, because you have never felt this good. He’s tilting your head now, slamming his lips against yours, in a mind numbing kiss, his cock working you over and over into oblivion, your walls clenching around him, you hate how you can’t imagine not having this.

“Could’ve been doing this, fuck I’m stupid fuck. I hate myself.” He huffs the words, then your eyes lock, and your vision blurs on his pretty face. “Best I’ve ever had, ever.”

“Liar. Manwhore.” You kiss him brutally, a hand reaching back to pull his hair tightly, and he moans at that, fucking you harder, each thrust smacking your ass, making it jiggle.

“Little slut. Wanna be fucked mean, don’t you?” He fucks brutal then, slamming your cervix, gripping you and gasping. “Oh my god, cum again, fuck cum again. Slutty fucking cunt gripping me too good.”

“Fuck you, Satoru- ah!” You scream out as you do cum one last time, fuck you’ve lost count, you’re weak and going numb as he thickens inside you, pulling out then, jerking himself into his hand, whimpering as he cums, hunched over as if in pain, and you carefully sit up, watching him breathlessly.

Satoru’s hand is covered in thick white ropes, so much of it, still pouring out of his pretty pink tip, his eyes fluttering shut, lips parted. You’re trying to catch your breath at what just happened, you feel as if you’re going to fall off the edge of the world. He looks at you then, as you look at his cock, fuck you could suck him again, he tasted so good, how does his cum taste?

Why do you think this way!?

“Let me… don’t leave, please?” He pleads, and you nod a bit, as he comes back with a washcloth, carefully wiping you, lovingly almost, what a joke, studying your pussy carefully with a smirk.

“What?”

“Beat her up.”

“Oh god.” You smack at his hand then, rolling your eyes. “You’re such an immature man. Boy I should say.”

“Boy, huh, how many times did you cum?” You’re blushing then, as he’s leaned close, kissing your lips once more. You bite him, glaring. “You’re so adorable mad, you know that?”

“You vex me so.” You push him off then, trying to catch your breath, as the reality sets in.

Nanami was right.

You ended up right in his bed.

As if reading your mind, Satoru sighs, brushing your hair back. “I’ll still allow you to leave, even if we’ve consummated the marriage.”

You look at him in shock then. “You will?”

“I gave you my word. I don’t want you too, but I will not hold you here if you still want to then. I swear it.”

“But why?”

“Because you deserve that choice, the one not given to ladies. You deserve to leave me for what I did.” He blinks away tears, lingering on his white lashes, and you break into pieces, falling deeper into his gravity, into his black hole.

He seems to feel you’re his black hole.

How do two black holes work? Do they destroy each other?

“I must… I must go.” You say softly, and he shuts his eyes, resting his forehead on yours now, nodding.

“I don’t want you to go. But I understand. I wish I could… bloody hell this is stupid. Wish I could hold you.”

“Hold me?”

“Yes, I ache to hold you every night. But I’ve brought it all upon myself. Thank you, for this. I did not deserve it, did not deserve to feel you, and your tight little pussy, watch your beautiful face, touch your perfect body. None of it. Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?”

“Yes.” His eyes lock on yours when he pulls back, and you can’t put two and two together.

“I can’t trust you yet.”

He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I know.”

“If I fall, you’ll just get a new mistress, flaunt her, you’ll-”

“There will be nothing after what I just felt with you. You’ve ruined me, Duchess, ruined me forever.” His words are hoarse, and so easy to fall into you have to pull away, shaky as you stand, he has to steady you. “Do you want to know more about her?”

You nod, you’d been so overwhelmed you could not remember anything for a moment. “I would, yes.”

“Get rest tonight, I will share with you tomorrow, after we take care of more pressing issues with the village.” He slides your chemise on, and touches your shoulders with his hands, even that action makes you ache for more, as your pussy throbs from his cock still, aching in ways you never have. “Thank you for everything today, even if it’s just once.”

His eyes, his face, his lips, his vulnerability, it’s too much. You lean up then, as he bends down, kissing him, letting him hold you. “I shouldn’t have.”

“You shouldn’t have, but you did. I’ll dream of it.”

“Shut it, Satoru. Fuck you vex me.” You kiss him again, before dragging yourself away, taking several breaths. “I still hate you.”

“You should.” He takes your hand, kissing it then. “There’s no excuse for anything I’ve done. I will never be able to make up for it. But I hope… tomorrow you’ll understand me more.”

“I hope I will as well. It was all I ever wanted.” Your voice breaks, and you turn away then. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Good night, Princess.” He pulls you back, tilting your chin up, kissing your forehead, and you melt from it. “Thank you.”

You cannot speak, you just leave quietly, back against the large wood doors, eyes shutting as you try to compose yourself, as you try to understand what happened, but there’s no words for it. You’d loved what Satoru did, you’d loved his cock inside you, loved him biting you, calling you a slut, loved him taking you from behind, consuming you utterly.

You are shaking as your Nan prepares a bath, and you can’t even speak to her, as you sink into the hot waters, remembering every bit of his touch. Is that what sex truly was, when you felt so much? Nanami had been so sweet with you, Nanami had professed his love, begged you to stay, but you left him.

You’re horrible.

Because Nanami isn’t even in your mind, unless you force him there, unless you make yourself think of him. It’s all Satoru Gojo, your mean husband, a cruel man who had destroyed you, a man that had fucked women right in front of you. A man that had pushed you to lose your innocence, when perhaps you would not have so quickly, perhaps you’d have thought better.

If he did not destroy your mind, your psyche, your soul. But you wanted to forgive everything when his pretty face looked at you like that, when his eyes gave you that gaze that made you feel so desired, like you were the only thing that existed for him. Nanami had never looked at you like that whatever the fuck that was.

You should scrub Satoru Gojo off you, but instead your mind is filled with images of him, that sweat dripping down his straight nose, his lips reddened from your kisses, the way his eyes rolled back when you sucked him. Instead you relish in it all, in a man you’re going to leave, in a man you don’t know, that made your body come to life.

You sink into the tub then, into the water, scalding hot, and you hope it burns you alive, as you scream out under the water in frustration.

What the fuck were you doing?

A/N: Lots of people are torn on this story, as they should be! Some people don't like the Duchess, she's not perfect as perfect characters bore me, I like complex ones. This was always a gojo/reader even if I really am confusing and hurting people lol. Love ya'll who enjoy my mess, Nanami isn't gone from the story by the way!

Taglist : @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @chiyokoemilia  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @peppertoastuniverse @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @airandyeah @jaylenezzz @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @teacupwaifu @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow @spookyblackhottie @ekaterinatepes @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @szna

Until the next one, dear masochist readers

Part Ten

[writesvani]

Dear Me | 03

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TWs (for this chapter): emotional distress, unresolved feelings, unspoken grief, jealousy, insecurity, avoidance, mentions of lost friendships, nostalgia, mild self-deprecation, strained relationships, anxiety, bittersweet memories

comment HERE for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter | next chapter

wc: 3,4k // date: 25th of March

CHAPTER THREE — Saturdays are for Yoongi; happy reading my gummies...

AN (DON'T SKIP): this chapter was so much fun to write, and i genuinely hope you all love it as much as i do! starting now, my new update schedule is officially in motion, and with that comes my note goal: 200. yup, you heard me right, two hundred. am i being ambitious? maybe. am i manifesting? absolutely. but hey, dear me usually hits that, so let’s keep the streak alive!

and here’s the deal—once we hit that goal, chapter 4 will drop faster than y/n dodging her feelings. so, leave your comments, send me asks, scream in the tags—I’m dying to hear your thoughts!

also, yes, i know these first few chapters are on the shorter side, but they're just here to introduce you to the story and its dynamics! i promise, longer chapters are coming soon

— love, vani ♡

The best part of your week is Saturday. There’s something about it—a sense of idle calmness, as though the world has momentarily slowed down. It’s the one day where you can embrace doing absolutely nothing, soaking up your unproductivity like a ray of sunlight. Saturday is the calm before the storm of the week, and that’s why, despite your constant need for structure and routine, you let it unfold naturally.

It’s funny, really. The simplicity of having one messy, unplanned day brings an unexpected thrill. You find joy in the uncertainty of how the day will pass, how it’ll surprise you. It’s a break from the usual schedule, a breath of fresh air in the middle of your carefully organized life.

Yoongi sits across from you, his usual aura of coolness interrupted by his bizarrely slouched posture. His hair is a mess—tousled and looking as though he’s been trying to tame it all morning, but it stubbornly refuses to cooperate. In front of him sits a caramel latte, the steam curling lazily as he takes occasional sips, his eyes flicking between you and your phone.

“Damn, that looks good,” he says, his voice a low murmur, but his gaze is anything but casual. He’s practically staring at the picture on your phone like it’s holding the secrets of universe.

You smirk, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. “Mhm, that’s what I’m talking about,” you reply, practically grinning from ear to ear. The pride you feel is almost tangible as you show him the picture—a shot of the crème brûlée you recently made at work. It’s perfect, golden, and just begging to be devoured.

Yoongi’s eyes are wide, his expression a mix of admiration and hunger. “I’m not even gonna lie, I’d eat that straight off the screen if I could,” he admits, a little too eagerly.

You chuckle, leaning back in your chair. “Well, you can’t. But if you want, I’ll make you one next time.”

His face softens into a grin, and he leans forward, his hands wrapped around his latte like it’s his only lifeline. “Deal. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I think I do,” you say, the ease of afternoon gently swallowing you.

You lean back in your chair, tapping your fingers lightly on your cup, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips. “But seriously, Yoon, I could teach you how to cook. You might actually impress someone with your skills for once.”

He raises an eyebrow, the amusement in his eyes barely hiding his disbelief. “Me? Cook? Please, I can barely make instant ramen without setting off the smoke alarm.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "I remember the last time you tried cooking. The whole apartment smelled like burnt toast for days."

He slouches slightly in his chair, shoulders tensing as he glances away, a sheepish expression crossing his face. “Okay, that was one time. I may or may not have gotten distracted by my playlist. But I’m definitely not cut out for the kitchen.”

“You say that like you’ve given up entirely,” you tease, leaning forward with a playful glint in your eye. “Come on, hun. Everyone can cook if they try. Even you could pull off something other than cereal or microwaveable noodles.”

His hands wrap tighter around his latte, and he shrugs slightly, eyes flicking to the side as though he’s mentally weighing his options. “What’s the point? You’re the one with the magic touch. Every meal you make is basically a Michelin-starred dish.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the pride swelling in your chest despite your modest shrug. “You’d be surprised.”

Yoongi leans back in his chair, his head tilting just slightly as he observes you. His lips curl into a small smirk, though there’s a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “Yeah, right. Last time I tried, I couldn’t even boil an egg without making it look like a science experiment gone wrong.”

Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on your drink. “That’s because you didn’t even know the difference between boiling and frying! You can’t just throw an egg in a pan and hope for the best, dude.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning slightly forward as he feigns annoyance, but the playful gleam in his eyes betrays his true feelings. “Hey, I was improvising!” His lips curl into a mischievous grin. “It’s not my fault the egg didn’t cooperate with my vision.”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the amused smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sure the egg was just terrified by your lack of culinary expertise.”

Yoongi’s posture stiffens as he glares at you, but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, giving him away. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m a cooking disaster. I’ll just leave the meals to you, Chef Extraordinaire.”

You sit up straighter, tilting your head slightly, the teasing glint never leaving your eyes. “Smart choice,” you reply, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “But, just so you know, next time I’m cooking, you’re the official taste tester. And trust me, you don’t want to disappoint me.”

He leans back again, hands resting on his lap as he stares at you with mock seriousness, though his lips are still twitching into a grin. “Challenge accepted,” he says, his tone a bit more dramatic than necessary. But you know he’s secretly terrified of the idea of cooking for himself.

A soft shift moves through the air, a gentle shift of calm that settles between you and Yoongi. Quietness. His fingers dance over the screen of his phone, tapping at the surface with practiced ease. You can guess he’s texting someone—maybe Nina, maybe a friend, maybe… Jungkook. The thought makes a knot tighten in your chest, but you push it away. It’s not something you want to think about right now. Instead, you pull out your own phone, your fingers flicking through the screen aimlessly.

Nothing exciting. Nothing new.

You let out a soft breath, your eyes drifting up to meet Yoongi’s. There’s a quiet comfort in the air now, the type that doesn’t feel awkward or forced. It’s the kind of silence that wraps around you like a blanket. The kind that settles into your bones, making your muscles relax and your fingers stretch out in a lazy ease. It’s the kind of quiet that only comes from familiarity, from knowing someone well enough that you can just be—no words needed.

The thought makes something soft bloom in your chest.

Yoongi’s presence brings a sense of grounding, like you’ve known him forever and there’s nothing that could change that. The fact that, despite everything, there’s still someone you can rely on, someone you can lean on when the world feels too heavy. It’s a rare comfort.

You haven’t seen him much lately. The demands of his job as a publisher, your own strict schedule—it’s hard to make time. Too hard for regular drinks or coffee, even calls. But somehow, there’s always that one day of the week that pulls you two back together, a day when the chaos of your lives fades just enough for you to enjoy each other’s company.

And that day is usually Sunday.

Maybe that’s why you love Sundays so much. The way everything slows down, the world becomes a little softer. The way Yoongi's presence feels like a breath of fresh air. It’s those moments, those quiet moments, that you cherish more than anything else.

You glance at him again. His eyes flick up to meet yours for a brief moment before he looks away, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You feel it, the shared understanding between you two. And in that second, you realize that, even though you can’t always be together, these Sundays are enough to keep you close. To remind you that, no matter what, you have this.

You have him.

But alas, the silence, unfortunately, can’t last forever. A small motion, a sound disrupts the calm, and you find yourself briefly flinching at the sharp ring of Yoongi’s phone. You blink, your attention drawn to the screen before you can stop yourself. It’s ringing, and without thinking, your eyes are already glued to the name flashing across it.

“Nin 🫶🏻,” it says.

Your throat tightens, a lump forming that you can’t swallow down. Of course, there’s nothing strange about Nina calling him—she’s his sister, after all. It has happened countless times in the years you’ve known the twins.

Nina has visited him more times than you can count, and you’ve met up with her, too, shared easy conversations and laughter like before. But this… this is different. This time, seeing her name on his screen feels like a punch to the gut.

It’s the first time you’ve seen it since that day—since the day you saw it written in beautiful, flowing cursive on that damn envelope sitting in your desk drawer (well, except the day you saw it tangled in your emails from the past you, but you're choosing to ignore that).

The one you’ve kept hidden, locked away.

The one that still reminds you of a friendship that’s lost.

A friendship with Jungkook that once meant everything but now feels like it belongs to another lifetime.

A friendship that has been broken, shattered beyond recognition.

That envelope, that name, that moment—it's a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, the one you once cherished, now reduced to something unrecognizable. And it stings. It always stings. The ache doesn’t go away, even though you try to heal it.

Desperately.

Eagerly.

You force yourself to move on, to pretend like you’ve moved past it, but the wound is still there. Still fresh, deep beneath the surface.

You inhale sharply, trying to mask the uneasiness threatening to bubble up inside you. You flash your teeth at Yoongi, offering him a soothing smile—one that feels more like a mask than anything genuine. You can feel the tightness in your chest, but you push it down.

"I gotta take this. I’ll be back," Yoongi says, his voice breaking through your thoughts. His movements are quick, almost hurried, as he stands and brings the phone to his ear.

You nod, though it feels like a distant gesture, your eyes still locked on his phone screen even as he turns to leave. The words “Heey” drift back to you just before he’s out of sight, and suddenly, the space between you and him feels much larger. Much emptier.

You’re left in the quiet once more, but this time, the stillness feels heavier. The silence is louder now, pressing down on you as the ache grows, gnawing at your chest.

You’re reminded again, in the simplest of ways, that you’re not the number one in Yoongi’s life. That place is always reserved for his sister, Nina. And though you know it’s natural, normal even, a small part of you can’t help but envy her—for being the priority in the lives of everyone you ever cared about the way you always wished you could be. It’s irrational, you know it is, but it still stings in the way that only silent truths can. The hurt lingers, no matter how much you try to reason with it. You push it down, bury it beneath the smile you’ve perfected over the years.

Yoongi’s footsteps return before you can fully process the pain, the familiar sound of his shoes brushing against the floor, and he moves past you with an energy that immediately pulls your attention. There’s an excited gleam in his eyes—bright, almost too bright for his usual self. It’s contagious, but you can’t quite bring yourself to smile the way he does.

He’s joyful. Too joyful for Yoongi. And it’s a little too much, but you lean forward instinctively, elbows planted on the table, your hands cradling your face.

“You won’t believe this,” he says, his voice light with excitement as he takes a sip of his latte, the warmth of the cup seeming to match his newfound energy.

You stare at him, curiosity piquing despite the heaviness in your chest. “What happened?”

“Nin and Kook are coming to town next week, to check the venues,” he continues, his words rushing out of him like a wave breaking against the shore.

And just like that, the names—Nin and Kook—splash over you like ice water. They burn, sharp and familiar. The names of people you loved, people who are no longer yours to love. The uneasiness quakes through you, a familiar sting at the back of your throat. You try not to let it show, though. You won’t let it show.

Yoongi keeps talking, trying to act oblivious to the weight his words carry. “And they want us to grab a coffee together when we’re free,” he adds, a casual air to his voice, as if the idea of sitting in a café with them—laughing, reminiscing about high school, pretending like everything is fine—doesn’t rip at the edges of your heart. It feels wrong, the thought of being in the same room as Jungkook again, when so much has changed, when so much has been lost.

You swallow, forcing yourself to sit up a little straighter, letting the fake calmness wash over you. “Really? How did that plan come to life?” you ask, your brow quirking in an exaggerated show of curiosity, anything to mask the storm bubbling inside you.

Yoongi shifts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his gaze flitting between you and his empty cup. “Nina asked where I was… I told her I was grabbing coffee with you,” he rambles, his voice quieting slightly. “Then she mentioned that she and Kook were coming to town next week to check the venues. And, well, yeah, the rest is history.”

You nod slowly, trying to pretend that the mention of Jungkook doesn’t twist something deep inside you. The urge to respond, to say something that doesn’t betray the knot tightening in your gut, claws at you. But you just nod again, this time with a tight smile.

“Sounds… fun,” you manage, though the words feel foreign in your mouth.

“Could at least try sounding a bit more excited,” Yoongi says, giving you that look—the one that knows you too well. It’s the look that cuts straight through the act, the one that makes you feel like you’re not hiding anything at all. It’s funny, in a way, how he can pick up on your discomfort so quickly, but still, for all his sharpness, he never seemed to notice that you used to be in love with his sister’s fiancé. Or maybe, a small part of you wonders, he did know. And chose not to bring it up. Because acknowledging it would make it real, and if it was real, things would get messy. Yoongi would have to choose a side, and both of you knew exactly where his loyalty would lie.

You shift uncomfortably, forcing a smile, but it feels like the most unnatural thing in the world. “I am, I swear,” you say, but your fingers twitch against your cheeks, a small gesture as they trace the scar you’ve long since tried to forget.

Yoongi watches you closely, his gaze softening as he picks up on the subtle shift. “You don’t have to pretend for me,” he says quietly, almost too quietly. But the weight of it lands in your chest, sending a quick flutter through your heart. "I know this is gonna be a lil weird for you."

You blink, trying to clear the lump in your throat, but the words feel too heavy, too loaded. The silence lingers for a beat, thick and raw. Then Yoongi’s voice breaks through again, a little more careful this time.

“I mean, the four of us haven’t been in the same room together in years. I get it. I know you haven’t seen Kook in a while.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you say, but your voice catches just slightly. “But it doesn’t make it weird...”

Yoongi tilts his head, the tiniest smirk curling on his lips. “You know, Nin says he mentions you a lot.” He leans back in his chair, watching you with those eyes that know too much, the ones that see past all the masks you wear.

Yoongi's words linger in the air, sinking in slowly, creeping up on wounds that you thought had healed. The fact that Jungkook still mentions you, still thinks about you—it shouldn’t sting this much, but it does. It really does.

Two years have passed since you last saw him, and the memory of that moment is sharper than you’d like to admit. The last time you sat down with Jungkook was after an awkward run-in outside his parents' house, where he invited you in for a drink. And it was… weird.

You both were strangers by then, with too much history between you to ignore, and yet not enough common ground to feel like you truly knew each other anymore. It was like trying to force something familiar into an unfamiliar shape. The conversation, stilted and uncomfortable, quickly drifted to small talk—safe topics about childhood and high school memories, things that kept the ground beneath your feet solid, even if it felt like you were both standing on shaky ground.

You blink, breaking out of the fog of that memory. Yoongi’s eyes are still on you, waiting for you to say something. Anything. You open your mouth, but the words falter, unsure of where they’re going. “Look, Yoon, okay, maybe…” You pause, trying to form the thoughts swirling in your head. “Maybe it’s a little weird because I haven’t talked to both of them in a while. But so what?” You shrug, trying to play it off, but the unease bubbling inside you is hard to ignore.

Yoongi tilts his head, studying you with that familiar, knowing gaze. “So what?” he echoes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re telling me you’re not worried about it?”

You don’t answer immediately, your fingers tapping lightly on the table as you try to steady yourself. The truth is, you’re not sure what you’re worried about. The past? The present? The strange space in between?

Yoongi's buzz slowly fades, and you can’t help but feel the weight of it. The joy that had been on his face when he finished that call, the spark in his eyes—it all starts to slip away, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve somehow extinguished it. He was so eager, so excited for the four of you to hang out again, and now, with all your overthinking and awkward thoughts about Jungkook and the thing that happened between you, you’ve managed to ruin it.

You glance at Yoongi now, watching him carefully, as if he’s trying to decode something that’s impossible to read. His eyes are focused on you, sharp and observant, like he’s piecing together a puzzle with every little shift in your expression.

Your eyelashes flutter, and instinctively, your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they feel dry, a little too dry. You take a sip of your coffee—cold, bitter, the taste of it almost mirroring the ache in your chest.

"I have nothing to worry about," you say, your voice a little softer than you intend. You scratch the back of your head. "I know that once we get past those first five minutes of awkward hell, it'll be like back in the days."

Yoongi shrugs, and a small, almost nostalgic smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah... like when we were young," he agrees, his voice carrying a bittersweet edge.

Your eyebrow quirks up, and you let out a short laugh, though it’s not entirely a pleasant one. "Dude, are you seriously quoting Adele right now?"

He looks at you, unbothered. "What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood."

"With a depression anthem?" you joke, the corners of your mouth lifting despite yourself.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Don’t kill my creative vibe, okay?"

You shake your head, but the tension loosens just a little. Maybe it’s stupid, but his attempt at humor, however ridiculous, makes things feel a little less heavy. The fact that Yoongi can still make you laugh, even in the middle of all this weirdness, is oddly comforting.

The conversation shifts, both of you silently agreeing to steer clear of Jungkook, Nina, and the storm their arrival will inevitably bring. No mention of wedding venues, no talk of Nina with a ring on her finger—the ring you haven’t even seen, don’t even know what it looks like.

And maybe that’s for the best.

So instead, you devote yourself to Yoongi again, clinging to the safe space he provides. You let him pull you into a discussion about a new book he’s reviewing, something he’s beta reading for a supposedly famous writer. Supposedly being the key word, because despite his insistence that they’re a big deal, you’ve never heard of them. Then again, maybe that just says more about you than it does about them—about the fact that you haven’t picked up modern fiction in a while, about how your shelves are still filled with books from a past version of yourself.

You laugh at his dramatic retelling of the plot, roll your eyes when he insists the main character is "literally the most annoying protagonist ever written," and for a while, it works. You manage to push the conversation from earlier to the back of your mind.

But not far enough.

Because the weight of it still lingers—heavy, unfiltered, sitting right there in your heart. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, no matter how fast you try to outrun it, the truth remains.

It’s still there.

Just like Jungkook.

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @santiiagopopegarcia @jadaocon1 @asyr97 @gukieater @themwordsblog @whatevevrerr @amarawayne @tititania @guwol @reallygenerouskoala @bgfdcvbnjk @kyljjk @whoa-jo @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @upo1313 @polnaraffsrack @tatzzz-25 @orphicepiphany @coletaehyung @bjoriis @epiphany-n @kimyishin @eegyo @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @parkinglot-nights @mar-lo-pap @evrsncenewyork @jjeonjjk7

[callahanisms]

all you need is more radaway

save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)

anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(

perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol

character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul

it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.

and building up endurance, of course.

you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.

to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.

thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.

"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"

you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.

"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.

"now i don't know if you should do that."

"and why not?"

a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.

but you weren't afraid.

"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."

"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.

"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."

"if you believe so."

your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.

of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.

in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?

"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"

more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.

"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"

"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.

"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."

"we'll see about that."

your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.

surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.

and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.

unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.

"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.

"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.

you chuckle a little.

"something funny?" the ghoul asks.

"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."

"very funny."

"let me guess. your answer is no?"

"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."

"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."

you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."

"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.

"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.

the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.

as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.

the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.

"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"

"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."

the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.

it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.

and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.

undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.

"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."

"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."

"from watching my movies?"

"yes!"

"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.

"that also makes you over 200 years old."

"that it does. something wrong with that?"

"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."

"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.

"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."

"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."

"i have a name, you know."

"what is it?"

"(y/n)."

getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.

"guess we're even now."

the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."

cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"

"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.

"i think you might die."

"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.

"i can also swim, you know."

"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."

you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.

you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.

"fuck!"

he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.

suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.

there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.

"something happen down there?"

"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."

while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?

"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."

"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.

"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."

"i don't."

"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.

dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.

cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.

though how does this work exactly?

"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.

cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.

it's so cute when he smirks.

you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.

"i absolutely can."

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 4 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Nobody is more surprised that Jake asked you to spend the night than Jake himself. But somehow he's sweeter with you around, and every time he touches you, he wants to be the best.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, cum play, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

When you woke up, your body was warm even though you could feel cool air on your face. Everything smelled good, and when you moved a bit, you realized you were a little sore. The distant sound of waves crashing kept you relaxed even as you started to recognize that something out of the ordinary was definitely happening. When you flexed your fingers, you realized you were touching someone else.You jolted a bit as your eyes flew open, and you were met with a handsome face, green eyes and a smirk.

"Morning, Darlin'."

"Jake," you croaked, voice unprepared for the immediate wave of relief you felt when you recognized who you were with. But then you stared at him in surprise. He invited you to spend the night. After he made you come. Twice. After he'd had his mouth all over your body. "Jake," you murmured again, trying to fight the urge to kiss him and see how rough his stubbled cheeks felt now.

He responded by collecting you against his chest so you were mostly on top of him, and he stroked his finger along your lips. "You sleep okay?" When you nodded, he smiled and said, "Me too. Want me to make some breakfast?"

You tried to bite your lip and act cool. You wanted to respond to him the way any other hookup he had sleep over might, but instead you blurted out, "I liked what you did to me. With your mouth."

Jake's smile grew, and he carefully rolled you onto your back. "Is that right?" he asked, bracing himself above you with thick biceps and messy hair.

"Your hands, too," you whispered with a nod, and then his mouth was on yours. You were immediately curling your fingers into his hair and shifting your legs beneath him as he nibbled on your lips. The stubble felt a little rougher than last night, and you desperately wanted to feel it everywhere. 

He seemed to know what you were thinking as he kissed his way to your ear and softly asked, "You want me to do it again, don't you?"

You barely spoke the word, but he was already moving as soon as you said, "Yes." When he shifted the covers, you felt the cool air on the rest of your naked body, and you watched him ease himself lower until he was eagerly kissing your belly button. Then, without hesitation, Jake's mouth was on your pussy, and he was coaxing your legs further apart with his big hands. "Oh," you whimpered, head turning on the pillow to look out the window at the perfectly clear morning as the ocean crashed onto the beach somewhere in the distance.

Was this what it would be like to have a boyfriend? Waking up to oral sex before breakfast whenever you let Jake know you wanted it? Not that you'd be with Jake. But you could probably be with Cooper. Maybe he'd treat you to his mouth just like this. 

Your legs shook slightly as Jake sucked on your clit, and then all coherent thoughts vanished. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he plucked you with his lips, something you had no idea would feel that good.

"You like that?" he asked, swirling his tongue around your clit as you pulled on his hair. "You can tell me what you like. I want to know."

You moaned and let your eyes close as his soft breath teased you. "I like this a lot. It feels better than I thought it would."

Jake chuckled, sucked on your clit a little harder, and then pulled his mouth away, making your legs shake even more. "You like it a little rough," he grunted, and your legs spread open wider for him. "And you're so sensitive." Instead of feeling any shame, you rolled your hips up to his mouth. "Needy, too," he drawled with a grin before licking you up and down.

It was the steady rhythm with just the right amount of pressure that had you whining nonstop, and then your whines turned to loud moans, and then you heard yourself begging Jake to make you come. "Please! Oh my god! Please!" You were so close, gently clenching around nothing, but his unhurried movements seemed to make it better the longer it took. Your heart was pounding and your vision wavered a bit as he worked his tongue up, down and around. But when he pulled your clit between his lips one last time, he got you there.

Your voice sounded raw as you loudly got off, pleasure washing over you until you weren't moving or talking at all. When you cracked one eye open, Jake's green eyes were wild as he looked up at you from his spot between your thighs, and you tried to reach for him. Your arms felt heavy, and you giggled softly as you whispered, "You told me to tell you what I like."

"Yeah," he grunted, cheeks flushed pink as he kissed your thigh.

"Well, Jake, I really, really like getting head. I thought maybe when I came last night that it was a fluke and it wouldn't ever happen again," you rambled. "But then it did, and now I'm thinking you might be some sort of sex god? You can get me off way better than I can get myself off."

"Fuck." 

He was breathing heavily, and that's when you realized he was touching himself. His naked body and hard cock were perfection to look at, but as you sat up, he moved away from you. You licked your lips and watched him palm himself. "Are you going to fuck me now? Should I get my condoms?"

"Darlin'," he groaned. "Just... I need a minute. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Then he vanished into this bathroom.

----------------------------

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Jake tried his best to be quiet as he jerked himself off with four strong pumps of his hand around his cock. He was never quite this keyed up around a woman to begin with, and then you had to go and ask him if he was going to fuck you. He laughed at his facial expression in the bathroom mirror. No way he could have fucked you like this. He would have lasted two minutes, tops. 

He couldn't imagine anything worse for your first time than a guy who was so worked up, he came almost immediately. He knew he shouldn't be reacting to you like a teenager with no self control, but you really got him going. As he cleaned himself up, he licked his lips, and he could still taste you there. He could still smell you on his skin.

"No," he groaned, knowing it would be all too easy to get hard for you again if he let it happen. He needed to cook breakfast and reevaluate if he could actually handle fucking you, but when he walked out of the bathroom, you were still sprawled out on his bed, naked and gently trailing your fingers along your tummy.

"I thought you were going to meet me in the kitchen," he said, desperately hoping his bathroom activity wasn't so loud that you knew exactly what he had done.

You turned your hazy gaze toward him as you sat up, and Jake was honestly surprised by how fucking good you looked in his bed when smiling at him across the room. "Can I borrow something to wear? If my leather skirt is impractical for getting fucked in, it's probably not much better for eating breakfast in."

The fact that your little skirt was still on his kitchen floor from last night hadn't escaped him. Neither had the fact that he still hadn't actually fucked you. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. And that starry-eyed expression on your innocent looking face wasn't helping him stay soft.

"Come here," he coaxed, turning toward his dresser and yanking open a drawer. "Pick what you want to wear."

You sashayed over to him, slipping your warm body under his arm when he held it out for you. "Anything I want?" you asked.

Jake nodded as he looked down at your pert nipples and kissed your temple. "Anything you want. And then I'll make you breakfast."

His hand slid down to your hip as you reached for one of his gym shirts and a pair of his athletic boxer briefs with the stretchy waistband, and he grabbed a pair of clean underwear for himself. 

Once you were dressed, you smirked and asked, "How do I look?"

Jake grunted and shook his head in response. The tee shirt you'd selected was one that he tore the sleeves off of, and when you turned in a small circle for him, he could see your breasts through the sides. "Cute," he drawled as you met his gaze. "And I can see your tits, so that's always a plus." When you realized what he was talking about, you tucked your arms against your sides which made him laugh. "You're worried about that now? Darlin', I've already seen and touched every inch of you."

When you tried to duck your head in embarrassment, he reached for your chin and asked, "What do you want for breakfast?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "Whatever you usually eat is fine."

He guided you out of his bedroom as he said, "I hope you're hungry then."

"I actually did work up an appetite," you replied in your sassy tone as his hand slid down to cup your ass. "Maybe you did, too? You were working pretty hard, Jake."

"Have a seat, Smartass," he murmured, pulling out one of the stools at his kitchen island for you. Then he bent to pick your skirt up from the floor and waved it in the air before tossing it toward the couch in the living room. He honestly was a little worn out, and he hadn't even properly fucked you yet. As he turned on his coffee maker and pulled bacon and eggs from his refrigerator, he realized he was already thinking about what you might want to eat for dinner. He also realized he wanted you to still be around at dinnertime, which was an absolute anomaly for him; most women didn't make it to the morning after. 

"Do you need help with anything?" you asked him, elbows propped on the island. He wasn't sure if you were showing off your tits on purpose at his point or if he was just lucky that you happened to choose that shirt.

"Nah. Conserve your energy. You still have a lot to learn."

----------------------------

You watched as shirtless Jake cooked bacon and eggs while a pot of coffee brewed. His movements were graceful, which made sense for a fighter pilot, but he was also humming along to some unknown song which made you smile with how intimate it all felt. He even leaned in to kiss your cheek when he handed you a new wine glass full of ice water, and you couldn't help but grin like a lunatic. You were getting the full sleepover experience with this man. 

When he turned off the stove burner and started to plate the food, you said, "You know, you still haven't fucked me yet."

His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. "I thought you said you were enjoying getting head."

"I am," you said with an eye roll. "But I was promised a full dicking down."

Now he was laughing in spite of himself as a mug of hot coffee and a plate of delicious smelling breakfast were set down in front of you. "I already told you that you still have a lot to learn about sex."

As he slid into the seat next to yours, you poked at your eggs with your fork. "Please," you scoffed. "It's not that complicated. I've watched porn before."

Jake chuckled and shook his head, shoving a huge bite of food into his mouth. He studied you as he chewed, and then he asked, "So you think that makes you an expert on sex?"

"I mean... the porn I watched was hot," you admitted. "I touched myself and got off. Not that complicated." You blew on your mug of coffee and stole a glance at him as he grunted.

"Nothing wrong with that, but it's inauthentic."

Your eyes went wide. "What? You don't like to watch porn?"

Jake casually took another bite of food before he murmured, "I didn't say that.... I said it's not real."

You let his words circle around your mind as you bit into the perfectly cooked bacon. "But you don't need to have real feelings for someone to sleep with them. Even I know that much."

When his big hand settled on your thigh, you had to suck in a deep breath to stay calm. "I don't want you to have unrealistic expectations. Those people are getting paid to fake multiple orgasms. You don't always get off like that in real life."

"You always get me off." 

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, his fingers were tightening on your leg, digging into your flesh. His pupils were wide, the green of his eyes, fading into neediness. His voice sounded deeper now.

"Time for lesson five: not all guys are the same. Just because I'm more than happy to take the time to make sure you're feeling pleasure, that doesn't mean it'll always be that way." When his lips brushed the side of your neck, you moaned. "I know you like the way that feels. I like it too, Darlin'. But you can't learn what chemistry and intimacy are like without experiencing them for yourself. But not every experience you have with men is going to be a good one. Especially if you don't pay attention to the lessons."

"Okay," you agreed as your lips met his. "I'll pay attention to the lessons."

Jake's lips were gentle and perfect as he returned all of your kisses. "What was lesson five?" he asked as his hand made its way higher up your thigh.

"Not all guys are as good as you are," you moaned.

"Fuck. Close enough," he confirmed, pulling you onto his lap so you were facing him. You knew you'd let him do whatever he wanted to, and you ended up straddling his thighs with your pussy resting right on his cock through two layers of thin fabric. You could feel that he was a little hard, and your lips parted wordlessly as you made a desperate sound. "It's okay," he promised, one big hand sliding down to your lower back as you rolled your hips inadvertently.

"Jake," you gasped, surprised by your reaction to him even after spending the night in his bed.

"I know, Darlin'," he crooned. "I want it, too. But I need you to be patient. Finish your breakfast like a good girl, and then lesson six will start on the couch."

----------------------------

Eventually, the two of you finished eating while you shared one seat, and then you started pulling him toward the living room. "I'm ready for my next lesson," you practically sang, but he dug his feet in. He was a little concerned that another trip to the bathroom first was necessary, but he just wanted to get that shirt off of you. It left nothing to the imagination anyway, and he was convinced you were teasing him at this point.

"You don't even know what the lesson is," he reminded you as you came to a stop.

"Doesn't matter. I already know I'm going to like it," you whined, turning so he could see into the side of the shirt.

"Brat," he whispered, reaching for your chin so he could kiss you before you started pulling him toward the couch again. "Lesson six covers masturbation and mutual masturbation."

Your pretty lips were pursed as he held you there, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "What's mutual masturbation?" you asked innocently, and Jake was already twitching in anticipation.

He released you and took you by the hand instead. "You touch yourself. And then I touch you."

Jake dropped down onto the couch, and you stood between his splayed legs, an eager look on your face. "Do I get to touch you?"

Even as he examined you before him, he groaned in need; he'd have blue balls again soon enough, but he needed to stay focused. "Get undressed," he whispered, and you did exactly as you were told. Shit. This was already the most gratifying weekend he could remember. As you pulled his gym shirt over your head, he leaned in closer and kissed around your belly button. Then when you yanked his boxer briefs down your hips, he kissed your pussy. And damn it if you didn't moan his name.

It took all his willpower not to bend you over the coffee table and fuck that pretty pussy from behind, but if you could be patient, so could he. "Turn around," he said, voice deep and harsh, and then he was presented with your ass as you glanced back at him over your shoulder. "Okay, Darlin'. Have a seat."

Jake bit back a groan as you settled onto his lap with your back pressed to his bare chest, and he had to kiss along your shoulder until he had composure. Then he let one big hand rest low on your belly while the other slipped up your soft body toward your breasts. "Spread your legs for me," he coaxed, tracing little shapes along your inner thigh. He kissed the side of your neck as you shifted a bit. "That's a good girl. Now I want you to touch yourself."

"How?" you asked, turning to meet his eyes over your shoulder.

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "However it feels good."

"Okay." You pressed your lips together, and Jake leaned to his left to watch your fingers slide along your skin and down to your pussy. Your head tipped back against his shoulder, and you worked at it for a few minutes, legs barely shifting at all against his. He could feel the muscles in your arm flexing, but eventually you made a frustrated sound.

Jake kissed your ear and said, "You told me earlier that I can get you off way better than you can get yourself off. Why do you think that is?"

"Because you know what you're doing?" you complained. 

"Perhaps," he chuckled. "But you also react differently to a partner than you do to your own touch." He let his fingers trail up from your thigh to stroke your slit as he gently bit your shoulder, and you arched your back in response.

"That feels so good," you gasped. "So much better."

He kissed the soft skin behind your ear and whispered, "You can touch yourself, too." You let your hands settle on your tits, and he added, "There you go. You're an excellent student." He dragged his thumb down over your clit and you jerked in his lap. 

"Do it again," you begged. "Please?" you whined, and he pressed a little harder but kept his pace slow. "I love it when you touch me."

"Fuck." With another gentle kiss to your neck, Jake whispered, "Making you feel good is a pleasure." His cock was once again painfully hard as you ground your ass against him, and he wondered if you'd even notice if he came in his underwear. Chances are you wouldn't if he could get you in that hazy, post-orgasm state again. God, he was already kind of obsessed with that fucked out expression you got after he did a number on you.

When he pinched your clit, you made a sound that could rival one of the porn stars you'd apparently watched, and Jake had to bite his lip. "No, no, no," he coaxed when you tried to close your legs. "Nice and wide, or I'll stop." 

You reacted by spreading your legs further apart when he stopped touching you for a split second, and Jake's lips curled into a smirk as you whined again. Now you were getting wet, further evidence that he got to you as much as you were getting to him. He wanted to fuck you, feel you squeeze him tight while he got you off. Before he knew what he was doing, he had two fingers buried deep in your pussy, and you were gasping his name.

"Jake." Your hands were scrambling to reach for his thighs, and he pumped his fingers deeper. He meant to take his time with you, he really did, but you were too fucking hot, and you trusted him to make you feel good.

"Do you like that, Darlin'?" he asked.

You nodded vigorously, back arched, head tipped back against his shoulder. Jake fucked you with two fingers while he stroked your clit with his thumb until he felt like his wrist was going numb. He wanted to suggest switching positions, but he could tell how close you were. He finger fucked you nice and hard, the wet sounds music to his ears.

"Come on," he coaxed, kissing your shoulder as you squeezed his thighs with both hands. Your soft whine got louder and louder, and when you rolled your hips forward, Jake pressed on your clit until you shook against him.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your pussy gripping his fingers, and he realized he was absolutely going to need to excuse himself once again. But you wiggled out of his grasp and turned around on his lap, eyes wild as you panted, still working through your orgasm. He was about to tell you he needed the bathroom, but your lips found his, and he devoured all the little sounds you made.

Your kisses were absolutely fucking filthy, all tongue and teeth, and he held onto your waist with his slick fingers as you had your way with him. "I want to feel you," came your soft whine, and before he knew what was happening, you were reaching your hand into the front of his underwear. "Please, let me touch you."

"No, no, I need a minute," he protested, but you wrapped his cock up in your warm fist and gave him a tug that had him thrusting up for more. "Oh... feels good," he gasped. Then you ran the tip of his cock through your slick pussy while you watched in wonder, and Jake knew this wasn't going to end well if he didn't excuse himself immediately. "Darlin'," he groaned, but you just licked your lips and met his gaze while you teased yourself.

"I know what you did in the bathroom earlier," you whispered, voice dripping with pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him in your hand. "I know you were hard last night, too. I know you touched yourself, but you didn't have to. I would have touched you if you let me. I wanted to."

Jake rubbed his hand over his face before he pulled you closer with both of his hands on your hips. "You're killing me."

You just looked at him, uncertainty in your eyes now as you stroked him slowly through your pussy. "Do you like this? Does it feel good?"

Like the perfect student you were, you'd already learned how to ask him the same things he'd been asking you. "I'm pretty sure I'd like anything you do." Now your smile was sincere, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. He let you keep going for another few strokes before he murmured, "But you need to stop, because I'm going to come."

You gasped and said, "I want you to," before kissing him harder. "I want to make you have an orgasm."

Technically, you'd already given him two orgasms, they just didn't happen while you and he were in the same room. And he couldn't see himself shaking you in time to try to make it to the bathroom now, so he leaned back a little bit and let you watch him slowly lose his composure for you.

"Oh my god, Jake," you whispered, jerking him a little harder with a bit more finesse than he expected from you. Then you gently touched his balls with your free hand and asked, "Are you close?"

"I fucking am now," he panted, head tipped back. He squeezed his eyes closed for a beat, and whispered, "Jesus Christ." Then as soon as he opened his eyes, he was painting up your tummy and your pussy with his cum, and you squealed in delight with a big smile on your face. "Oh shit." 

You jerked him off until he was drained and the mess he made was starting to drip onto your thighs. Then he got to watch you run your finger through his cum before raising it to your lips, and you moaned softly and smiled when you tasted him. He reached up to cup your cheek and guide your lips back to his while he gently removed your other hand from his cock. He wanted to taste it, too. But he wanted to taste it in your mouth.

He was treated to you running your fingers casually through his cum while you lay curled up on him with the sticky mess coating the both of you. He had his arm wrapped around you while you licked at your fingertip and asked him, "Are all penises as big as yours? You look the same size as the guys in the porno. Will you let me try to give you a blowjob? I really, really want to. And when are you going to fuck me?"

He took your chin gently between his fingers again and swept his tongue along yours before kissing you softly to stop your rambling. "Just be patient, Darlin'. We'll get there," he promised with a grin.

--------------------------

It's hard to be patient with Jake around just doling out the orgasms. But the dynamic is slowly changing, and he might be the one who really needs some reassurance here. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[thirteenheavens]

You mentioned drunk sex and I reaaaaaally want you to write that for every idol you write lol it’s my fave

So maybe we could start with yunho?😇

Thank you so much for your works, I love every letter of them😍

Notes: stop anon I’ll be counting on you to send them ahaha enjoy guys I love this one :D

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*

Yunho is already tipsy, laughing and stumbling as he tries to open the door to your shared apartment.

"Babe, I'm home," he calls out, finally managing to get inside.

You hear his voice and quickly run over to him, a big smile on your face.

"Yunho!" you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. "You're drunk."

He stumbles a bit but catches himself, hugging you back tightly.

"Maybe I am," he says, his words slurring slightly. "But I missed you too much to care."

He leans down and kisses you passionately, his hands roaming your body.

"You smell so good," he murmurs against your lips, inhaling deeply. "And you look so damn sexy."

"You're not so bad yourself, handsome," you say, a smirk on your face. "Especially when you're drunk and horny." He grins, pulling you closer and biting your neck.

"I'm not just horny," he says, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm needy." You let out a gasp as he bites down harder, leaving a mark.

"Need me, huh?" you tease, running your fingers through his hair.

His eyes darken with desire, his gaze fixated on you.

"Please, I need you to take care of me," he begs, his voice filled with desperation. "I need your touch, your body, everything."

“Maybe not tonight Yuyu you’re too drunk,” You say smiling at him in his state.

He pouts, his bottom lip jutting out in a childish manner.

"But I've been good," he whines, his grip on you tightening. "Why not tonight?"

You laugh at his behavior, ruffling his hair.

"Because you're too drunk to handle it," you say, trying to reason with him. "You'll regret it in the morning if we do anything."

He groans, clearly frustrated.

"But I don't care about tomorrow," he whines again, burying his face in your neck. "I just want you now."

"You're acting like a spoiled child," you tease, stroking his back. "Stop being so impatient."

He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, giving you his best attempt at a cute expression.

"Please, let's go to bed," he says, his voice soft and sweet. "I promise I'll be a good boy and listen to you."

You can't help but find him adorable like this, your heart melting at his words.

"Fine," you say, sighing in defeat. "Let's go to bed."

His face lights up with excitement, a huge smile spreading across it.

"Yes!" he exclaims, lifting you up in his arms bridal style. "I knew you'd give in."

He carries you to the bedroom, his movements still slightly clumsy due to his drunken state.

"Don't worry, I got this," he reassures you, even though he's clearly struggling to walk in a straight line. He almost trips multiple times, but manages to reach the bed and gently lay you down on it.

"See, I'm still capable," he says, trying to sound confident but still giggling.

He crawls onto the bed after you, hovering over you with a smirk.

"Now that I have you all to myself, I'm going to make sure you don't regret this." He boops your nose giggling.

You can't help but laugh along with him, finding his drunk boop cute.

"You're so adorable when you giggle like that," you say, booping his nose back.

He blushes, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"Only for you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck. "You're the only one who gets to see me like this."

He struggles to take off his shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons.

"Ugh, why won't these damn buttons cooperate?" he groans, growing more frustrated by the second.

You sit up, watching him struggle with a mixture of amusement and fondness.

"Need some help there, love?" you ask, trying to hide your laughter.

He huffs, giving up on his shirt and looking at you with a pout.

"Yes, please help me," he admits, crossing his arms over his chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

You smile at his attitude, reaching out to unbutton his shirt for him.

"You're such a baby when you drink," you tease, finally managing to undo all the buttons.

He leans into your touch as you finish undressing him, his body now fully exposed.

"I know, but I can't help it," he mumbles, his eyes locked on yours with a mix of lust and love.

He starts to leave sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing down to your collarbone.

"Mmm, you taste so good," he moans against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Please, ride me, ride me hard," he begs again, his voice filled with desperation and need. "I want to feel you on top of me, bouncing on my cock."

His words make you shiver with excitement, your body already responding to his pleas.

"You want me to control the pace, don't you?" you say, your voice low and sultry.

He nods vigorously, his eyes darkening with desire.

"I need you to take control and use me," he says, his breath hitching as he anticipates what's to come.

You slowly strip him completely, taking your time to admire his body. He watches you with heavy lidded eyes, biting his lip as you tease him. His cock is already hard and throbbing, standing at attention for you.

"Look at what you do to me," he groans, unable to keep his eyes off of your body as you strip in front of him.

His hair is messy from running his hands through it, and his eyes are glazed over from the alcohol and arousal. He looks completely debauched and needy, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He knows he's hot, and he knows you know it too. He smirks at your expression, loving the way you look at him with hunger.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?" he teases, his voice dripping with confidence.

"More than anything," you say, straddling his hips. He lets out a low growl as you settle on top of him, his hands instantly gripping your thighs.

He squeezes your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to keep himself from bucking up against you.

"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," he says through gritted teeth, his cock twitching underneath you.

As you slowly sink down onto his cock, he throws his head back and lets out a loud moan, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"Oh god, you're so tight," he gasps, his grip on your thighs tightening even more as you take him deeper.

He's practically a mess beneath you, whimpering and moaning shamelessly as you start to move up and down.

"Please, harder, faster," he begs again, his voice breaking with each plea.

He's a whining mess of pleasure, completely lost in the feeling of your body riding him. His neck is exposed, veins visible as he continues to moan and whine your name.

"You're driving me insane," he pants, his eyes squeezed shut.

He looks up at you with those big, pleading doe eyes, his hair a complete disheveled mess from being pulled and tossed around. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips are parted, letting out little needy sounds every time you roll your hips. He can't take it anymore, he's so close to losing control. He tries to buck his hips up into you, but you pin him down, keeping him still.

"Please, I need to cum, please let me cum," he cries out, desperation evident in his voice.

"Beg for it more," you say with a smirk, your movements becoming slower and more teasing.

It's hard to resist when he looks and sounds like that, but you have to keep yourself in check. He lets out a frustrated groan, his body trembling with need.

"Please, I'll do anything," he says, his voice cracking. "I'll be your good boy, just let me cum, I need your permission."

His words make you shiver once again, and you can feel your own arousal growing from the sight of him being so submissive.

"Good boys get rewards," you say, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "And I think you deserve a reward for being so obedient."

His eyes light up at the promise of a reward, his hips bucking up again in excitement.

"I'll be the best good boy for you," he says, his breathing heavy as he tries to maintain his composure. "Just please, please let me have my reward."

You smile at his eagerness and decide to finally give him what he wants. You begin to ride him faster and harder, angling your hips just right to hit his sweet spot.

"That's it, you're doing so good," you praise, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

He's panting and gasping for air, his eyes rolling back again as you hit his sweet spot repeatedly.

"Oh god, right there, right there!" he cries out, his nails digging into your skin as he clings to you.

You keep up the pace, riding him mercilessly, his moans growing louder and louder.

"I'm so close," he says through clenched teeth, his body starting to tense up. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fill you up so good."

He continues to babble and slur his words as he gets closer to his release, his sentences becoming incoherent.

"So beautiful, so perfect, mine," he says between moans, his eyes glazed over with lust and love.

He cums with a loud, guttural moan, his body arching off the bed as he spills inside you. His orgasm is intense, and he continues to spill for what feels like an eternity, filling you up completely. You ride him through his orgasm, milking every last drop out of him. He collapses back onto the bed, completely spent and breathing heavily.

"That was... incredible," he manages to say, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath.

You get off of him and he lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. He watches you with tired eyes as you walk away to grab the cloth, still trying to come down from his high. You turn on the faucet in the bathroom, letting the cool water run over the cloth. You wring it out slightly before returning to the bedroom, where he is now laying there with his eyes closed, a satisfied smile on his face.

You chuckle softly as you notice him passed out, a small puddle of drool forming on the pillow next to him. You gently clean him up, being careful not to wake him up. You admire his sleeping form, feeling a mix of affection and amusement at how easily he fell asleep.

[ozzgin]

Yantober Day 7: Dear Alice

content: female reader, captivity, mentions of murder, horror, ft. Cute!Twisted!Yandere

"I don't know what else to do, (Y/N)."

The young man carefully smoothens the napkin onto your lap with a merry hum. He's trying his best to remain calm, though your lack of cooperation is truly wearing him thin.

"He's gone. The worms are probably feasting on him right now. Must we reminisce on such terrible memories every single dinner?"

You glare at him with pursed lips.

"You murdered my fiancé", you finally spit out begrudgingly.

"No. We've been over this already." He forces a smile, then tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Come, don't frown like that. I brewed your favorite tea."

He's kneeling before your seat, cupping your hands in his. The dark, empty eyes stare at you with adoration. You observe his features once more; no matter how often you see it, you still cannot believe that such a beautiful, innocent face is behind this nightmare.

"We would've been married by now. Then you came along."

His smile instantly drops, and he stands up, kicking the floor in protest.

"No! No!" he shouts, index finger tapping against his chest ardently. "I was first! You know that very well, we made the promise together. He ruined everything. All I did was to keep my word."

By the end of his angry discourse, his cheeks are burning, and his shirt is ruffled. He suddenly notices his deplorable state, coughs dryly, and straightens himself. Then, as if nothing happened, he returns to his soft, feminine voice, lips curving in a cute pout.

"You really tease me sometimes, (Y/N) dear. It hurts when you lie."

He resumes his previous pose, curled at your feet, except this time his large eyes are blurred by fat, fresh droplets of tears.

"When will you forgive me? I was a child; I had no choice but to move away. It wasn't my intention to disappear on you.

That's why you picked him. To make me jealous."

You want to correct him, but he quickly continues:

"And so I took care of him, didn't I? Yet you keep being upset with me. You treat me like some sort of stranger."

His body quivers in despair as he lowers all the way down, head pressed against the ground.

"God, I'd do anything just to hear you say you love me too."

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