#it wasn’t supposed to be taken seriously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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daydreamerdrew · 2 years

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The Defenders (1972) #56

#it’s really surprising that it’s such a big deal that Bruce has been taken into custody in Russia #seriously like he’s been the Hulk for years so his career has pretty much been over for years #but I suppose that the gamma bomb that turned him into the Hulk wasn’t Bruce’s first invention for the U.S. military #like a lot of early Hulk stories were based around various other significant inventions of his #like he didn’t start out his career as the lead on a nuclear bomb project #he was already established and respected #but still #the fact that it would be ‘very embarrassing’ for the U.S. that Bruce was found in Russia and suspected of espionage #when there’s like an entire sector of the military dedicated just to capturing him #like he’s obviously not on good terms with the U.S. government anymore #he’s not spying for them #marvel #bruce banner #my posts #comic panels

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sunkendreams · 5 months

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kickstart my heart.

REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid

“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!

A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.

You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.

Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.

The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.

Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.

A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.

“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”

Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.

With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.

Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”

“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.

“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.

A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.

“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.

To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.

His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.

“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.

“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.

Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.

You belonged to him.

With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.

“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.

“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”

Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.

Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.

“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.

“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.

“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.

Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.

By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.

Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.

“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.

“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.

“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.

Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.

Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.

Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.

“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.

You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.

He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.

As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.

Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.

“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.

When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.

“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”

Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.

That’s what this was about?

“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.

For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.

Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.

You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.

Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.

“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.

“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.

A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.

“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.

This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”

“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.

Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.

That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.

“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.

Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.

A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.

Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.

“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”

“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.

“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.

With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.

He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.

Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.

You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.

“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”

It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.

He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.

Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.

There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.

Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.

“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.

You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.

Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.

The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.

As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.

With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.

Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.

Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.

He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.

“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”

“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.

He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.

“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.

“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.

Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.

You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.

A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.

There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.

He moaned.

Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.

“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.

“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”

Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.

Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.

With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”

The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.

Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.

“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.

Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.

An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.

“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.

You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.

“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.

“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.

It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”

Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.

Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.

He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.

You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.

It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.

“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.

“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.

You would have to thank Marko later.

#slasher x reader #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x you #slasher fanfiction #the lost boys #tlb 1987 #paul tlb x reader #paul tlb x you #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #the lost boys fanfiction #tlb x reader #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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bonny-kookoo · 3 months

Text

Jungkook

Green| Part 01

A good idea not thought through.

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst, suggestive, mentioned smut but sfw

Length: 3.7k Words

-> Masterlist

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When Jimin had set this whole date up, Jungkook had expected.. Nothing, really.

As far as he knows, he’s supposed to meet you at the restaurant right here, and you supposedly know exactly which table he sits at- but what he did not expect, was for you to be so.. Pretty.

You’re clearly a fox hybrid, distinctive hybrid features standing out, very much well taken care of. The second you sit down, he notices even the shape of your pupils being the same as a common fox’s, though they don’t make him feel intimidated at all. Not as they should, at least.

Jungkook remembers the teasing jokes back in school, or the struggle to earn his spot even later in life as a prey hybrid. Many people still believe that he’s not a good fit for a leading position in his company as a rabbit, unable to apparently make important decisions with a realistic view on things or not mentally strong enough to withstand the stress of responsibility. But he’s not just a meek little bunny.

And from the looks of it, you’re not a dangerous predator either.

“Well, Jimin wasn’t lying when he told me you were.. Cute.” You say, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath- and you take it as a bad sign, instantly going back on your words. “Not as in, not-to-be-taken-seriously-cute, but like- uh.. Your ears just look.. Pretty?” You tell him, and at that, his eyes move to look at you from the rim of his wineglass, one of his mentioned black rabbit ears slowly standing up.

Silver piercings are decorating it. It’s an uncommon sight- but you decide it fits him.

“...thanks.” He nods, before he licks his lips, and averts his eyes. “I apologize, It’s been.. A while since I’ve been on a date.” He shamefully admits, but you wave him off.

“It’s not a problem.” You deny. “I don’t go on dates often either.”

“How come?” He wonders, seeing an opportunity to spark some smalltalk, so he can find out a little more about you.

“Just.. Not the time. And no partner to go on one with.” You giggle, thanking the waitress for your glass of wine. “I’m usually pretty busy with work.”

“Work?” He asks, and you nod, your pretty fox ears suddenly standing tall with pride, tail swinging behind you. It’s pretty cute, in his humble opinion.

“I’m an author!” You beam happily. “I write children’s books, and fantasy novels.” You explain, and Jungkook’s thoughts instantly go back to his daughter, currently in the care of Jimin at his house. Did you write a book she’s seen before?

“Children’s books?” He wonders, feeling a bit stupid for just asking you, and never giving you anything in return.

“Yep.” You chirp. “Mostly.. Very simple one’s. Ages 4 to 7.” You explain. “And you? What do you do for a living if I may ask?” You wonder, resting your chin on your hands.

“I’m.. The vice president of HLC at the moment. Hopefully I might get a promotion at some point.” He chuckles, and your eyes widen.

“Wow.. That's. Okay, that’s huge.” You laugh a bit uneasy now.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He wonders, a bit confused. Both of his ears are up now, his body becoming more and more comfortable with your presence.

“A little?” You admit. You’re honest, it seems like. He already decides it’s a very positive point. “I feel a little.. Out of your league, so to say.” You say a bit jokingly, taking a sip from your wine. He shakes his head.

“Don't worry about it.” He denies, reassuring you. “We both have our places in life.”

“So it seems.” You nod, while you wait for your dinner to be served.

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A place Jungkook had not seen you in his life, was beneath him, in his bed.

But that’s exactly where you’ve ended up, most of your clothes already having been stripped from your bodies, lying somewhere in the bedroom. He honestly blamed his attraction to you on his hormones at first, and the fact that he’d neglected his natural need for physical intimacy for so long due to his single-father situation, but in this moment, he knows that it’s more than just that.

And that just screams trouble.

But right now, Jungkook can’t make himself think of anything other than you beneath his hands, skin warm as you push your bare behind right into him. He’d technically wanted to drive you home, a simple act of chivalry since your date had honestly been very nice, but somehow, you ended up agreeing to at least let the night come to an end in a more relaxed atmosphere at his apartment, since you told him that you’ve always dreamed to live in a apartment high up with a view of the city skyline.

He really just wanted to show you the view. He really doesn’t know when you both started to make out.

But he knows that it’s something you both clearly want- your hands holding onto his bedsheets almost impatiently, while he’s busy wrapping the condom over his length. If the situation was just a little different, Jungkook could see you both getting along a lot longer than for just this- but he’s got responsibilities, and he can’t just bring someone into his life without thinking about it long enough.

And also, with his daughter still at such a vulnerable age, there’s just no way she’d accept you.

Initially, he’d keep it at this. You’re in perfect breeding position, face in the pillows, behind pushed into him- but he has to see you. It’s not some magical connection type of thing, just simple attraction, and maybe, just maybe, his inner need to at least pretend for a moment that he’s just a young guy being together with his girlfriend- even though that’s never going to be the truth.

Just for a moment, he wants to pretend.

Just for one night.

On your end, this is just an adventure you’ve never been on before. Jimin had told you to come out of your shell a little, be a bit wild for once, and meet his best friend who’s got a ‘just as dry’ intimate life as you did. And you can’t deny that this friend- Jungkook- is anything but charming, and attractive. Despite being a prey hybrid, he’s oozing a certain sense of confidence that’s not overbearing, but simply comfortable to be around.

But all good things must come to an end- and to spare the poor young man the awkwardness, you get up in the middle of the night- early morning, barely three AM.

Putting on your clothes, and somewhat fixing your hair, you carefully make sure to write a small note to leave on his kitchen table. Your face is already bare, since you both did shower yesterday before going to bed- so you don’t have to worry about that.

Maybe he’d like to meet you again? Well, you surely left your number on the note for him to reach out to, if he so decides to do so.

However, just as you try and walk out, you notice something.. Odd.

A small, childrens-size pale green wintercoat, hanging on the wall next to the entrance. Tiny shoes, green, frog-themed rain boots, and an equally themed little umbrella hanging on the wall as well, next to what you assume must be Jungkook’s clothes. These things clearly belong to a child- and now that you pay more attention to it, you do smell the uniquely scent profile of a kid in the apartment.

And the scents are too alike to deny that it must be his.

Panic starts to bubble up inside you. If he has a child, there must be a mother to it as well, right? Maybe not, but the chance is too high for you to really take any chances. Jimin didn’t mention that at all- if he’d told you that this rabbit wanted to cheat and not just ‘go on a date’, you would’ve never agreed to it!

Did you just become a homewrecker?

You’re taking a step to take your note with you again, but you instead hear Jungkook move around in his bedroom, sleepily calling out your name- and that makes your instincts go haywire, as you instead basically rip the door open after somewhat slipping into your heels, and fetching your small handbag from the floor near the way too cute rainboots staring at you oh-so innocently.

The door snaps shut behind you, and you don’t look back as you rush down and into the elevator, leaving the fancy apartment building and this whole mistake behind.

Already fuming as you call Jimin, uncaring about the time.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“I’m so sorry!” Jimin apologizes to Jungkook, who just sighs as he washes Minji’s plastic dishes in the sink, while the little girl is occupied on the couch, watching her favorite show before bed. “I didn’t think you both would end up here though-”

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” The young father denies, putting every piece of cutlery on the side to dry later. “It’s not like it would’ve worked out anyways. I just wish she knew that this was just a huge misunderstanding.” He clarifies, turning off the faucet before he grabs a towel to dry the dishes.

“I tried explaining it to her, really.” Jimin whines, feeling incredibly guilty for screwing this up so badly for his friend. “But she doesn’t believe me at all.” He sighs, sitting down.

“Like I said, it’s not like it would’ve worked out.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Minji already got nervous when Taehyung dropped her off this morning already just because her scent lingered.”

“But.. Isn't there, like, any way of getting her used to it?” Jimin wonders. “Like, I swear I’ve seen predator-prey couples with a prey child, and they looked fine to me.”

“Rare.” Jungkook just shrugs, putting the plastic cutlery and dishes away in their respective places. “It’s really fine. I just hope she doesn’t feel guilty about things, or believes that she was just some sort of.. Body for me to use.” He says, ears low against his head, simply flopping down. It’s obvious that Jungkook is upset about it all. Because from what Jimin had told him, you’d felt horrible, believing that you were some part in him cheating on the mother of his child- unaware that she’s not even in the picture, and hasn’t been for years.

“I’m gonna try and convince her one way or another.” Jimin sighs. “Really, this is so fucked up. The main reason I tried setting you both up WAS Minji!” He whines to himself, thanking Jungkook for the glass of water he offers him, before the young father sits down across from him at the kitchen table.

“What do you mean?” He wonders.

“She loves kids!” The human reveals. “She really does, but she herself can’t have any. Which I think might be why she feels so strongly in this situation.” He explains, making Jungkook sigh.

Well, that just makes him feel so much worse.

“There’s got to be a way to make this right somehow.” Jimin complains to himself, while looking over at Minji, who’s busy watching the TV with her favourite plush toy in her lap keeping her company. “I’m really sorry. I thought.. I don’t know. I forgot that because you’re two different hybrids, you might not get along too well..” He says, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“I.. We got along very well, actually. I really liked her. Or rather, still like her.” He chuckles a bit bitterly to himself. “But I guess finding a partner is out of the question for me, at least until Minnie is a bit older.”

“A bit older? Jungkook, you said she probably will stay scared of predator hybrids until she’s what? Twelve?” His human friend reminds him.

“...generally, yeah.” He shrugs.

“Jungkook, no. That can’t.. I refuse to accept that.” He shakes his head. “I’ll explain it all to her, I promise, and you’ll try and make this work with Minji when the time comes. Please.” Jimin says. “I don’t want to see you so lonely all the time.”

“I’m not lonely- I have Minji.” Jungkook refuses.

“You know what I mean.” Jimin presses.

“...alright.” Jungkook sighs. “If- IF- you somehow work it out with her, and she wants to.. Talk, give her my number. And not the office phone, please.” He runs a hand over his face, before he gets up with his friend to bring him to the door. “But don’t pressure her. If she doesn’t want to see me again, that’s fine too.”

“I won’t.” Jimin promises. “Promise.”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re sitting in front of Jungkook again, in a public cafe, a hot cup of milky coffee in front of you, while he seems equally as nervous with his own iced americano in his hands, fingers tracing the pearling condensation a little.

“So.” You start, looking at him, nervously licking your lips.

“So.” He nods. “I have a child.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You answer him, legs swinging a bit back and forth, due to the chair being a bit too high for you.

“Her mother.. Left, pretty much a few weeks after she was born.” He explains in a neutral tone, staring down at his beverage. “No one really has an answer why. But she just.. It was as if she was disgusted with her own child, pretty much right after birth.” Jungkook recites the events. “Didn’t want to hold her, got angry when she cried, refused to take care of her. We thought it might just.. Be postpartum depression?” He leans his head to the side a little. “It happens more than one might think, after all. But it never got any better.” He shakes his head. “So.. We decided to split up, and I took care of Minji by myself.”

“Did she ever.. Maybe reach out?” You wonder, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“She re-married again. Lives in Italy now, with her new husband and stepchildren.” He chuckles a bit. “I’m happy she’s happy, you know? Just wish it went a little different.” He honestly reveals.

“How old is Minji?” You wonder, dreading the answer. Because from both the scent and the size of the clothes and shoes in his home, she must be young.

“She’s three and a half.” He reveals, and both of you become quiet.

Oh.

Well, it was nice while it lasted. With his daughter this young, there’s just no way you could ever move forward with your friendship even- considering you’re still a predator hybrid at the end of the day, something that surely will scare the poor little bunny half to death. Why do you always have to get crushes on the worst possible people?

“Well, I’m sure.. She’s very lucky to have you as a dad.” You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. “And you’ll soon find a proper partner as well. You’re very likable after all.” You praise, praying that he can’t see the way your eyes begin to water.

“I’m sorry.” He answers, and his voice sounds just as dissappointed as he feels. “I.. Wish we would’ve met under different circumstances.”

“Then you wouldn’t have Minji.” You deny, spotting two drops of your tears having fallen onto the table. “Sorry, I’m a crybaby...” You say, fetching a tissue from your handbag.

“We could still try-” He starts, but you shake your head.

“No, she’s gonna be terrified of me, I don’t wanna scare her.” You refuse, drying your cheeks with a good amount of embarrassment, large fox ears pinned back in shame of it all.

“Minji is a lot braver than one might think.” Jungkook chuckles, reaching out to help you wipe off your slightly smudged mascara from beneath your eyes. “She just.. She might just be a bit shy. Or very shy, most likely.” He adds, and you giggle a bit.

“Jungkook.. I’m sorry I’m me.” You say, but he shakes his head, smiling at you.

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that.”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You decide to meet up again at Jimin’s birthday party- the human having invited you both, and Minji as well for the dinner he’d organized at his favourite restaurant in town. You’ll have the whole venue for yourselves to make it both easier for the staff, and everyone attending.

Jungkook is nervous in his seat, Minji next to him in her seat, happily coloring in her little book that he brought with him to keep her occupied, different shades of green crayons all over her spot at the table.

It’s then that the door to the restaurant opens, and you step in, together with Min Yoongi- a coworker and fellow predator hybrid whom you’ve befriended a few years ago, or so Jimin said. The big cat hybrid is apparently a tiger- though his ears and tail aren’t even slightly orange, instead monochrome white and black, his light eyes proving the fact that he’s not a standard.

But, Jungkook can’t look at him for too long, because he’s too busy blatantly staring at you instead, with your pretty face, dressed up for the occasion. So much so, that Minji has to pull on his sleeve to get his attention back, looking at him before she tilts her head, small bunny ears in between her hair moving on a constant, since so much is going on.

This will be it. If she gets too scared, he’ll have to go home early- and basically bury his hope of ever building something with you.

But even though she does seem nervous, she’s not yet scared- instead clinging to her father by instinct, who’s calm, mostly that is. “Come, let’s say hi to everyone, yeah?” He offers her, and she reluctantly gets up with him, clinging to his hand while they both walk towards Yoongi and you, who’s just hanging up your coat.

“Long time no see.” Jungkook offers Yoongi, who nods and shakes his hand politely, before he leans down to make himself as small as he can, in hopes of maybe getting at least something out of the little girl- but she instead steps behind Jungkook, the predator hybrid too intimidating. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh don’t be. She grew quite a lot in a year.” Yoongi dismisses, while you reluctantly walk closer, politely moving to shake Jungkook’s hand as well- but the rabbit hybrid instead moves to give you a hug, despite his daughter being so close. And much to your surprise, this action alone seems to spark Minji’s interest- her head poking around Jungkook’s legs, just to look at you curiously, especially your fluffy tail that’s nervously swaying from side to side behind you.

“Say hello, Minji.” Jungkook urges her, but as if snapped out from her trance, she shakes her head, instead running back to her seat at the table where she picks up her crayons once more.

“She’s cute.” You say, earning Jungkook’s attention back. “Looks.. A lot like you.” You mention, and he nods.

“I know. A lot of people tell me she’s like.. A mini-version of me.” He chuckles, walking towards his own spot next to his daughter. “Do you.. Want to sit next to me?” He wonders, and you nod, accepting happily. Sitting next to him will get Minji used to your scent, while also putting a safety barrier between her and him, so she can figure you out from afar.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.

Something you’re very much surprised about, is that throughout the entire evening, the little hybrid girl does not seem to complain whatsoever. Not once does she get fidgety, or whiny about sitting in one spot for too long- and once she does, Jungkook is quick and skilled in handling her well, calming her down or occupying her attention for a moment.

Though, at some point, she does get up and roam around a little, under the watchful eye of her father of course.

You’re currently talking to Jungkook about your work, when you notice something on your tail, one slight look from you revealing that it’s the little girl, carefully running her small hands over the fur, interest too great to really let her inner fear control her. You know she’s on high alert- ears standing tall and completely turned towards you, motions freezing entirely when she notices that you’ve noticed her.

Jungkook smiles at his daughter. “It’s pretty, hm?” He asks her, and nods, before she reaches out to have him pick her up and sit her on his lap, where she stares at you, now a lot more bold in the arms of her father. She’s visibly taking your entire appearance in, before she looks at Jungkook again, attempting to pull one of his jet-black rabbit ears, making him laugh and gently prevent her from doing so. “What do you want with dad’s ears, huh?” He jokingly scolds. “You’ve got your own, right there!” He reminds her, gently pulling her own equally dark ears, which makes her laugh.

You can’t help but smile fondly at the interaction.

That is until suddenly, the little girl boldly reaches out for your ears now- something that makes you both surprised and excited- your head leaning closer so she can clumsily grab at your ears, laughing most likely at how soft they are. It clearly makes Jungkook hopeful, his own tail wiggling around without his own knowledge as he watches the short but warm interaction with you two.

It’s obvious that while Jungkook is around, she feels comfortable and safe enough to interact with you- but as soon as his attention is somewhere else, she becomes more withdrawn and suspicious again, which is natural. But the fact that she’s not panicking at least, is already a great sign.

Maybe there’s a chance.

Maybe this could really work.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

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rishiguro · 9 months

Text

GAME OVER - K. KENMA

warnings: hurt/no comfort. 3.7k of angst. break up. yelling. talking about abandonment. heartbreak. no beta, we die like ao3.

zipping the suitcase shut, you closed your eyes. this was your second and last one. you were practically done, your best friend has confirmed that they were already on the way and soon you would be out of here the rest of your stuff was already at their place, you had made sure that today, the day you were finally leaving, everything you had would leave this place.

you had planned this. you knew you wanted this. and it’s not like your soon-to-be-ex boyfriend ever mentioned something about your belongings slowly disappearing, if he even noticed it – which he probably didn’t.

after all, he didn’t even notice you growing distant over the last couple of weeks.

quickly you lifted the luggage from the bed and pushed it into the hallway. you wanted to leave as soon as possible, hell, you wouldn’t even mind waiting outside, even though it was freezing and snowing without an end in sight. but for now you decided to stay inside, after all you knew that kenma had plans. not that he would’ve told you personally, but you overheard him talking to his best friend on the phone last night.

as it turned out however, this didn’t seem to be the case.

you were currently walking around the apartment one last time, checking if you had taken everything with you before finally leaving, when something made you stop in your tracks, your hand tightening around one of the straps of your backpack.

you could practically feel your heart stop as you heard the door unlock and fall shot shortly after, followed by keys being tossed into the bowl right next to it.

why was he home? he wasn’t supposed to be home.

“(y/n)?” you heard him call out for you and instantly your heartbeat sped up rapidly. he sounded puzzled and slightly irritated, which affirmed your belief that he saw the luggage in the hallway. “what’s going on?”

with a clenched jaw you forced yourself to calm down, your feet taking you to come face to face with him. “why are you home? i thought you wanted to go over to tetsurou’s place,” you stated calmly, forcing your voice to sound as bored as possible. you didn’t want him to know of the turmoil you felt inside of you.

kenma narrowed his eyes at you. “you didn’t answer my question”

shrugging, you pointed roughly into the direction of your suitcases. “well what does it look like? i’m leaving”

you don’t know how you were expecting him to react. shock? sadness? or even relief?

what you didn’t expect was to look at his ever so apathetic face as he only raised his eyebrows slightly at you. “haha, very funny”

you could only blink at him for a few moments before you shook your head, muttering something to yourself. you shouldn’t be so surprised that he didn’t take you seriously. it’s not like he respected or even reacted to anything you told him before anyways.

good. maybe that would make it easier for you to leave.

“sure,” you whispered, not being able to mask the hurt and anger in your voice completely.

you should have left earlier. you should have just gone outside despite the thick snow and cold wind instead of waiting for your friend to text you.

“come on, i know you’re joking,” kenma rolled his eyes at you as he spoke. “you wouldn’t just leave like that. did someone put you up to this stupid prank?”

scoffing, you let your backpack fall to the ground, clenching your first on your side.

a couple of months ago you would have tried to excuse the apathy in his voice and even excuse his way of dismissing you and whatever you were doing, telling yourself that he was tired or just busy but once this period was over he would again be the loving and attentive young man you fell in love with.

but he wasn’t anymore. and he hasn’t been for a long while.

furrowing your eyebrows you looked down to your backpack, rusting in it for a couple of seconds before pulling out a white, slightly wrinkled envelope. you took a deep breath to gather yourself before looking back up at him. “i wanted to leave this on the table, but since you’re here already” you held it out in front of you, looking at him expectantly.

with a confused look on his face, kenma reached out, taking the paper from you with slow hands, his bewildered eyes never leaving your stone-cold expression.

he looked down at it, seeing that it was addressed to him, his name handwritten in big, cursive letters. “what’s that supposed to be?”

“i told you, i’m leaving,” you repeated coldly.

with skeptic eyes he looked at the white paper for a second before meeting your eyes again. “why would you?” he sounded confused, more bewildered than actually emotional.

of course he still didn’t believe you.

you were here in front of him, your suitcases packed and a backpack on your shoulders and he still didn’t take you seriously. what would you have to do for him to just listen to you for one time?

you couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at him, fingers tightening around the straps of your backpack before you swung it back onto yourself again, at the same time putting your shoes on. “read it and find out”

you jumped slightly as kenma spoke again, his voice now significantly louder than before, uncharacteristic for a quiet and rather apathetic person. “seriously? you say you’re leaving but can’t even tell me to my face why? really?” he sneered, taking a step closer to you.

in return you backed away, trying to keep your voice as low and steady as you could. “you have no reason to raise your voice at me right now”

after his hands had balled up the letter, kenma threw the paper on the ground.

that’s what he was doing to what you were telling him. this is how much your words meant to him.

not even worth a listen, only worth to be thrown away.

“of course i have! i have every reason to! my partner wants to pack up and leave and doesn’t even have the heart to talk to me!” he continued yelling, pointing at you accusingly.

of course everything was your fault. of course he didn’t listen. of course he didn’t entertain the possibility for even one second that everything you wanted to talk about and everything you argued about was serious.

you shook your head in disbelief, a shocked laugh escaping you. “suddenly you want to talk?”

“what the hell are you talking about”

every single word that left his mouth managed to drive the knife in your heart even deeper inside. did he ever even care? did the past years mean absolutely nothing to him? why was he so confused? did your concerns over all these months and years really mean nothing to him?

why did he care so little?

“if you want me to talk, sure, i’ll talk” you clenched your teeth, balling your hands to fists at your sides.

you looked back at him, letting out a deep breath before you summarized all your thoughts in just a few words, mentally begging that you could simply get out as fast as possible. “you don’t give a shit anymore. not about this relationship or about me”

you didn’t want to talk to him about it, afraid of what you might say or not say and afraid of what he might say. you didn’t want to see him stare at you as you poured your heart out, slap him in the face with every issue that‘s been laying heavy on your heart for way too long. you were afraid of breaking down crying in front of him, showing him just how much you hurt.

you simply couldn’t. you wouldn’t allow yourself to be so vulnerable in front of him, not in front of the person that made you feel so worthless and broken.

“i care about you!” kenma shouted back at you, taken aback by what you had just told him, “how could you say that i don’t?“

was that how he showed that he cared? ignoring you, arguing with you and constantly dismissing you? was that really how a person would show their love and care?

you scoffed. “no, you don’t, kenma! you stopped caring about us a long time ago,” you yelled, wanting nothing more than stomping your feet in frustration. why did he suddenly care so much? “you never talked to me unless it was to ask me to get you something because you were too lazy to get up and pause your game or wait before entering the next round. you never even thanked me when i brought you whatever it was you were asking for. you completely neglected your half of your chores and even had the audacity to get mad at me when i didn’t do them for you. and if that wasn’t enough, if i just as much as delayed mine for just a couple of hours because i came home from work exhausted as fuck, you found it in yourself to be angry at me too”

with every word you spoke you could see the anger in kenma‘s face disappear, instead shock and guilt taking it’s place. his entire stance loosened up, almost like he was about to lose balance on his feet. “(y/n), i-”

“i’m not done“ you continued to stare him down, a part of you taking pleasure in seeing his resolve crumble and see him look like a kicked dog. you know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help yourself. you suffered for so long, you were in pain for so long — he should know how he had made you feel all this time. “you never listened to me anymore, because whatever was on any of your screens was more important. i don’t know if it was a game, or a friend, at this point i wouldn’t even care if you had a side piece. because it’s not like this would matter anymore. whoever or whatever it was, is clearly more important to you”

kenma stepped back, looking away from you as he pressed his fingernails deeply into his palm. he opened and closed his mouth multiple times, unsure of what to say. that was until he finally settled on something. “you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he whispered.

you let out a breathy laugh. was he serious? blowing things out of proportion?

would he still say this if he knew just how many tears you shed because of this? if he knew how often you made excuses for him to not just yourself but your friends too, who desperately tried to help you realize that the relationship wasn’t healthy or good for you? how you were constantly doubting yourself, not knowing if you were the one expecting too much? would he finally realize everything if he knew how broken you felt?

turning away from him, you pressed your lips into a thin line, quickly flexing and relaxing your hands as you tried to ground yourself. with a sad smile you looked back at him again. “it was our anniversary a week ago. do you remember that?”

you could see how kenma‘s face fell, as he became even more overcome with guilt. so he really didn’t care anymore. “thought so. you didn’t even come home that night,“ you continued, melancholy overtaking you as you recounted the day mentally. the excitement and hope you felt when you first woke up and started your day, which slowly turned into sadness and hurt with every passing hour until you completely shut down the moment the new day began. “do you know how shitty it felt to sit at home and just wait for you to show up, only to realize that you actually forgot?”

you shook your head again, swallowing rapidly to get rid of the lump that was starting to form in your throat. “you. the guy that remembers every easter egg, every cheat code and every shortcut from practically every game he played over the last year. that guy forgot his anniversary. and his partner’s birthday too while we’re at it”

it seemed that now the harsh reality finally hit kenma. he nodded, looking down in shame as he fiddled with his fingers. he opened his mouth, only to close it again. and again. and again. you could see the gears turning in his head.

in the meanwhile, you felt relief. while you still didn’t like that you were standing in front of him and couldn’t just disappear as planned, never seeing him again, you got a sense of comforting retaliation with every passing second. maybe, just maybe, he could feel even just an ounce of what you felt.

“(y/n), i can make it up to you, i promise, i’ll do anything. i didn’t mean to, i just got so caught up in everything,“ he tried to reason, miserably failing in his attempt to admit his faults without taking an ounce of accountability.

maybe he didn’t get it after all.

you narrowed your eyes at him. “you’re incredibly stupid if you actually believe that,” you stated with a shockingly monotone voice, shutting your eyes in defeat. “just face it, kenma. you didn’t care and don’t pretend to care now”

“but i did! i do!” he immediately claimed, stepping closer to you again, trying to take your hand, only for you to pull yours away as soon as his fingers touched your skin.

you sighed, holding your hands up in front of you in an attempt to protect yourself from every word that was leaving his mouth. he had already proved over and over again that he didn’t care about you — that he didn’t love you. so why couldn’t he allow you to finally leave and rid yourself from all this pain?

“stop. i can’t hear any of your lies before, really. i’m done with this too now, just like you are. shouldn’t you be happy now?” and yet again you felt your throat tighten. did kenma actually enjoy this? did he get some sick sense of pleasure from seeing you so hurt, so broken? why couldn’t he just let you go when this was what he made you believe he wanted?

“no one here that will annoy you when you’re gaming, no one that will force you to actually eat and no one that will drag you away from your pc so you can see the sun for at least five minutes. sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“no,“ he denied, reaching out for you, only to see you back away even more.

“no? but that’s what you wanted” you refused to look at him, instead carefully and slowly making your way over to your suitcases.

kenma however didn’t want to see you go, his hand grabbing your arm in a desperate attempt to keep you here, by his side. “no it’s not”

you used your free hand to peel his from your arm, shaking your head again in defeat. “well, that’s what you got now at least”

he stood there frozen as he watched you grab the handles of your suitcases, taking a deep breath before you spoke again, this time with your back to him.

“you know, i really wanted us to last, kenma. i really did. i tried to talk to you about this, i wanted to work this out together. but you never listened” you sighed, not being able to stop a sad smile appearing on your lips. “kind of ironic that you do now”

you could feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. you could feel the hope rising in your chest, feeling relief at the thought of leaving this place. as you were about to step out, you stopped in your tracks, but refused to turn around. instead you glanced over to the window, seeing just how heavy the snow has gotten over the last hour. you clenched your jaw. “i asked tetsurou to come over later. i know you don’t like being alone at home when there’s supposed to be a snowstorm”

when you stepped even further away from him, finally reaching the door, kenma was ripped out of his frozen state, jumping forward and grabbing your arm once again. “(y/n), no!” he yelled out.

your jaw clenched as soon as he touched you again, your mind falling into a loop of yelling at you to simply rip yourself away from him and leave without any other word and the other part simply begging him to finally let you go. you took a deep breath. “you’re going to close your eyes and let go of me. you’re going to count to ten. and when you open your eyes again, i’ll be gone”

it seemed so easy for him to hurt you over and over again, and yet he couldn’t seem to let you go. did he love to see you in such pain and misery? did he really just want to hurt you?

“please don’t do this to me,“ kenma begged, his voice significantly more hoarse than before.

you scoffed. it’s not like you were doing this all just to hurt him — you simply wanted to be better, more than just feel blue day in and day out. you wanted to live again, not rot with a boyfriend that didn’t give a damn about you. “let go of me”

he grew more and more desperate, pulling on your sleeves like a child. “please don’t do this to us!”

“there is no ‘us’, kenma!” you finally yelled at him, confirming not just to him, but really to yourself that you actually meant what you said and wrote down. you were over and there was nothing he could do to change it. “didn’t you hear me? it’s gone”

“i love you!” he yelled back, his voice breaking. “i love you, i love you so much, please”

and even though you were so relieved to finally leave, in this moment, you halted.

love.

oh, how much you had loved him.

after a deep, almost silent sigh, you looked back at him, seeing kenma with his head hanging low. “i would’ve given you everything to hear that just a few weeks ago. i gave you everything i had. and i would’ve been so incredibly happy” a smile spread over your face and you allowed yourself to fall for the illusion that his confession gave you. in some other universe you would hear these words daily, spoken with so much care and adoration, more than you could ever imagine. you would fall into his arms and kiss him sweetly and passionately and at the end of the day fall asleep in your shared bed, your bodies intertwined. you would be happy. “but now?”

“(y/n), please,“ he whispered.

“no. you’re too late”

and with that you shook him off off you again, finally opening the door, the cold air in the hallway hitting your face.

behind you, kenma fell down to his knees, a lump in his throat, as he reached out for you, only to pull back immediately after. “please, i’m sorry! i’ll be better, i’ll change, i promise!”

you didn’t look at him, not wanting to see him in such a state. “i’m so sorry”

pathetic — that was what he was right now. carelessly toying with your feelings and now that you just couldn’t take it anymore and left him, he suddenly seemed to have an epiphany. like a child that always ignored a toy, only to throw a fit as soon as another one wanted to play with it.

“i don’t want to hear your apologies. they don’t mean anything, kenma. they’re worthless” you spat at him, still staring at the grey wall ahead. “you can’t just keep apologizing and not change anything. i’m so sick of it, i can’t take it anymore” you clenched your jaw, shutting your eyes to prevent just a single tear from falling. “i can’t get my hopes up only for you to crush them every time”

“i never wanted us to end,” he whispered, hands falling into his lap. “especially not like this. you have to believe me. please, let me fix it”

you shook your head.

“it doesn’t matter what you wanted. what matters is what you did. and what you did was hurt me. over and over, again and again” you huffed, looking down and a sad smile on your lips. “there’s only so much i can take,” your voice broke, leaving you with no choice but to clear your throat and shake your head. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t start crying here. you had cried enough already in this apartment.

“and there’s nothing you can do to fix it. you can’t reset”

you turned your back to him, only to face him again a couple of seconds later, clenching your fists at your side. after taking a deep breath, you spoke again. “it’s over, kenma”

without waiting any longer you grabbed your two suitcases standing next to the door and walked out, careful not to slam the door behind you. while you dragged your luggage down, careful not to trip as your eyes filled with tears and constantly swallowing the lump in your throat, kenma still stood in the hallway, staring at the spot in which you stood just a few minutes ago, completely dazed.

it was only when you were long gone, after your friend had picked you up and allowed you to cry your heart out on their shoulder, did kenma feel like he could finally move. he was about to turn around and leave when he noticed a white ball laying on the floor. with a shaky hand he went and picked it up, only to realize that it was your letter, the only thing you had left behind for him.

clutching it into his chest he sank down on his knees, hunching over as he felt the tears pooling out of his eyes.

finally kenma realized that what you said was true. there was nothing he could do to fix this and get you back, there were no save points to return, no data to delete to start over and no cheat codes to enter.

it was game over.

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hyperfixiation-station · 1 month

Note

🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.

My Heart Will Go On

Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)

TW: Blood, torture, manipulation

Pairing: GhostxReader

Part 2

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.

You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.

Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

“Ghost?”

“Price?”

“Gaz?”

“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.

Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.

“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.

“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.

“‘M not! I don't-"

“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.

“But I’m-”

“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”

“I wasn’t ask-”

“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.

“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"

You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.

All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.

“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)

“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.

Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.

"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.

"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."

"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.

He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.

"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.

"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.

Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.

But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.

“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-

“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”

“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”

“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”

"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."

"I…you…I have to do affirmations."

"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.

"Again."

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

"Again!"

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ghost?"

"Simon?"

"Please."

"Why are you not coming for me?"

just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,

anyways I hope you liked it!!!!

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tragedybunny · 7 months

Note

Fun Astarion idea:

Tav finds a wish spell (does the Deck of Many Things behind Astarion's back and gets insanely lucky), and offers to use it to cure his Vampirism.

He would probably be annoyed at them for risking that, at least.

This one ended up short and sweet anon, but I didn't want to belabor it because I think it would be gilding the lily.

As requested, Tav draws from the Deck Many Things, Astarion is less than thrilled.

Gambles and Wishes - F!Reader x Astarion

“Astarion,” you pound on the door to your home’s library until you thought it would break.

“I’m still not talking to you,” he shouts back, not even getting close to the door.

It was locked from the inside and you consider an unlocking spell for a moment but stop. The lock was a boundary, and you hated to cross his boundaries, he didn’t get to have any for so long. Instead you opt to groan in frustration. “Please, this isn’t the healthiest way to solve our problems.”

“Neither is lying, but that didn’t stop you,” he shoots back and you cringe because he’s technically right.

“It wasn’t lying so much as not telling. And see, you’re talking to me so why don’t we stop shouting through the door.” To be honest, it was starting to make you nervous, he’d never been angry at you for this long before. Maybe your good intentions had taken things too far. “Please Love, Starry Sky,” your voice shakes.

The noise of the lock opening causes your heart to leap, but you're not sure if it’s dread or elation, so you just stand there, arms crossed around yourself until the door opens. Astarion stares at you with watery red eyes, “is that really how you want this relationship to work?”

“No, you’re right, but the possible reward was too great to deny.” Why can’t he understand, you’d do anything for him?

“So was the risk, you pulled a card from the Deck of Many things. You know magic, you know what could’ve happened.” He’s not shouting anymore, it’s so much worse. He’s barely whispering the words, and the tears are finally starting to spill over. “And you didn’t even consult me, we’re supposed to be equals in this.”

So much for those boundaries you didn’t want to cross, the realization started to eat you up inside. Protecting him wasn’t a good excuse anymore. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I would risk anything for you and I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

Even amidst all the pain, the two of you find yourselves holding onto each other. “Sunlight, that’s because you always take risks for me. You need to worry more about yourself sometimes.” He sniffles into your shoulder, and you hope his tears are drying as you stroke his hair.

“I know, last one I promise. But I got what I wanted, one Wish spell, we can have the life we thought was impossible.” The life you wanted so badly to give him, the life he deserved.

Stepping back from you, he appraises you seriously. “Are you sure this is what you would use it on? You could have an Empire, become a Goddess. Not that you aren’t already, especially when it comes too- ” he smiles lasciviously.

“Astarion,” playfully you smack his shoulder, “behave yourself. And yes this is the only thing I could think of using it on. I couldn’t wish for anything more than you.”

“You’re still a silly girl who’s too nice to me.” New tears appear in his eyes you notice, but for an entirely different reason. “Well then I accept, on one condition of course.”

“And what is that?”

“You promise you’re stuck with me as long as we both live. I’m not used to being alive of course, I’m going to need someone to keep an eye on me for a long time. And let’s be honest, you’re the most qualified. I don’t think any of our friends would really be able to handle it.”

He’s rambling but you know it’s because he’s nervous, so you lean over and kiss him softly. “Deal. Now let’s make you an un-undead Love.”

#asks #anon asks #requests #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x tav #x reader #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #my fanfic #my writing

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loveandmurders · 11 months

Note

Could I request a hc where the slashers have an s/o who completely dotes on them? Like always patches up their injuries, fixes tears in their clothes, makes things for them, makes their favorite meals, serves them the first and biggest helping of food etc? (With Thomas, Bo and Vincent please)

Hello there, thank you so much for this request!

I hope you will enjoy it <3

EVERYTHING FOR MY BOY

Gender neutral reader with no physical description.

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of blood and pain, quick mentions of sexual activities, one or two strong languages.

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy had always been taught he needed to take care of his family and to fulfil their needs before his own. No matter the situation.

So it was quite something new for him when someone in his life started to do the same with him by prioritising his needs, desires and happiness. If it was his duty to take care of his family and you, it was also yours to make sure your big boy was doing good.

He was very embarrassed at first when you, his soulmate, started to look after him. He wasn’t too sure how to react or what to do about it.

Before you came into his life, it used to be Mama who was taking care of his injuries, but now you were there, you were the one dealing with it. And you took the situation very seriously because you hated to imagine him in pain.

Before you, even if he was hurt, he would keep doing his work and chores until the end of the day. His well being meant nothing to him.

With you, it was different.

You were caring with your gentle giant. You always forced him to sit down so you could have a look at his body and make sure he was doing alright. You also made sure he took painkillers.

You made sure to always be by his side, including to help him take care of his leather mask. Even though the man was good with his hands and was quite crafty, you were always ready in case he would need your opinion or your help. Your hands were smaller than his so it was easier for you to do more delicate things as well.

After his day of work, you also loved to massage him under the shower. At first, it was difficult for him to relax. He loved your touch on him but he wasn’t sure he deserved that kind of treatment.

Plus it felt wrong to have you doting on him: he was the one supposed to do so.

But you were determined and you threatened him a lot for him to let you do. You won because he hated even more to do something that would upset you.

He had never slept so well in his whole existence. Your massages were the most divine of things for him. He still felt bad about it though, so he was more than eager to return the favour in any way you might like.

In a way you both had to fight with each other to be allowed to take care of one another.

Tommy didn’t want to be doted on, especially if it meant he couldn’t do the same with you right away. And you wanted to be there for him, and to force the man to think about himself first for once in his existence.

When Tommy hadn’t been around a lot because of work, you also liked to cook for him. You knew what your man loved the most, and you would do it for him. It also meant that he was going to be the first one you would serve at dinner and you would always make sure that he had the biggest portion.

If Hoyt said anything about that, you would quickly reply “Have you seen the size of this boy? He needs to eat”. It would slightly embarrass Tommy, but it would also warm his chest.

Even if he would rather die than admit it, he loved to be taken care of. And he loved that you would try to make him happy. He had never felt that lucky in his whole life.

Once you would be alone in your shared bedroom, he would thank you for the food with tender gestures and kisses. He would be all over you like a giddy puppy and he wouldn’t stop loving on you until you would giggle at the nonstop attention.

Bo Sinclair

Bo was a conservative guy so in his happiest dreams, his soulmate would be doting around on him and would take care of him.

But Bo was also a man who had a lot of demons and who was pretty certain he didn’t deserve anyone to love him that much. Actually, he might find it suspicious if someone would be eager to take care of him, if it wasn’t his siblings.

When you appeared in his life, you did start to take care of him to not get killed. You were a tourist, and Bo was badly hurt. He gave you the choice to help him out and to not get killed, or to try and run away and to be hunted down and destroyed in the most painful way possible.

Of course, you chose to stay and help.

But it felt quite natural to care for him, and Bo never had to get mad at you because you wouldn’t have been careful enough with him. Your gestures were always gentle and soft to him.

That was why he had wanted to keep you around. And you continued to dote on him, but because you started to truly enjoy him and this life.

You would cook for him and most importantly bake for him and his siblings (the boys had sweet teeth, you can’t convince me otherwise).

You always tried your best for him and his family.

As a family man, it was really important for him that you also treated Vincent and Lester with tenderness, but a different kind that you gave him of course (he was very jealous and possessive of you obviously)

He would love to see you coming into his garage with some drinks and cookies or something freshly made and baked. He would stop whatever he was doing to sit down with you on his lap, and enjoy the little feast you prepared for him.

If tourists interrupted the moment, he would be very pissed and he would kill them the most quickly and yet rough way he could, before going back to you as if nothing had happened.

Because you were very doting on him and taking care of him in any ways possible, he was a lot gentler with you than he had ever been with anyone else.

You were special. Not even his Mama made sure he was alright and happy like you did. You would never hurt him, and in return he made sure to be good to you.

All your acts of services were noted in his mind, even the smallest ones.

He didn’t always thank you, actually he very rarely did and he might be acting like an arrogant asshole. It was as if whatever you were doing was indeed natural and as if he deserved this and not any less.

But deep down, he was so grateful to have you around. He would forever keep you safe and you knew it.

Actually, he never thought of killing you. And he made sure you also knew it; he would really hate to have to hunt you down to bring you back home because he made you feel unsafe.

His way of thanking you was actually the way he treated you, especially in bed. He never forced anything on you, he never hurt you and he tried his best to always make you feel good about your body.

In his softest moment, he would even praise you and compliment you. His eyes were always showing you he was telling the truth.

He very rarely told you he loved you too but he never beat you and never yelled at you even when he was badly injured. You knew that pain was really making him a bad person, but he was always biting his lips to keep quiet. It was very different when it was Vincent taking care of him… But as said before, you were special.

Vincent Sinclair

Because his Mama always reminded him that he had a face only a mother could love, Vincent strongly believed that he was also someone only a mother could dote on.

He was a violent and sadistic killer, after all. He didn’t see why he would deserve someone good in his life.

But you came one day, and you never left. Not that he would have allowed it anyways.

You took care of him to stay alive, and the man quickly started to be absolutely obsessed with you. He even started to keep you in the same room than him or it would drive him insane to not know where you were or what you were doing.

It meant that you started to help a lot with the wax statues. You would praise Vincent and give him the right tool, or give him your opinions if you thought something could be done better.

You also made sure he stayed hydrated and didn’t forget to eat. When he would allow you to, you would go into the kitchen to fix him something. He would always share the food you made with you, because he also wanted you to stay in good health conditions.

After some time, he even started to remind himself you both needed to eat and drink water. But he liked it better when you were the one gently whispering into his ear that it was time for a break. He enjoyed having you close to him, and he enjoyed having you taking care of him.

He couldn’t sleep without you. He often asked to sleep on your chest and to wait for him to rest before going to sleep yourself. He loved to be watched over. You were like a new mother to him.

But he loved you way more than he used to love his mother. Or at least in a very different way.

He used to be glued to his mother’s side, but he would also let her go if he was crafting. He couldn’t do that with you. His favourite way to sculpt was now with you on his lap.

For the two of you, your favourite way of doting over him was showering him.

Before you, he used to forget to take a shower, mostly because he was working until he was falling asleep on his work table.

Now, you would gently kiss his chest and neck, softly whispering to him that it was time to stop working for today. Bo never managed to make his twin stop working. But Vincent couldn’t resist you for one second.

You would guide him upstairs and into the bathroom. You would help him undress before he would watch you getting rid of your own clothes. He loved to watch you getting naked in front of him. And once in the shower or in the bath, you would start to wash his hair.

He would simply close his eyes and hug you as you took care of him. He loved the feel of your fingers gently scratching his scalp. And he loved how you would put conditioner on his long hair too.

After his hair, you washed his body and face. You were always a little bit more tender when it was about his face.

He would lean into all your touches, completely relaxed and happy. He never felt insecure about his appearance when he was alone with you, and it only added to his obsession with you.

You were perfect, as if you came straight out from one of his fantasies.

He wasn't usually washing you. He preferred to look at you touching your own skin. But sometimes, his hands would be too itching to feel you and he would bring you all against him.

He would stroke your skin and start to play with you.

His favourite way to thank you for being so doting on him would be to kiss every inch of your skin and to pleasure you out of your mind… Not that you ever complained about it.

#thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt headcanons #thomas hewitt x s/o #leatherface x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair x you #slasher headcanons #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Note

imagine it’s like a week to valentine’s day and reader is pouty rafe hasn’t asked her but he just assumed they’re automatically each other’s valentines but reader doesn’t think that so shes just like :(((

maybe i can do angst cos omg ……..

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

you waited n waited all of february for him to ask, even up until the night before. you knew grand gestures in a relationship wasn’t exactly his vibe, unless of course he’s threatening to kill someone for you— but you thought he’d atleast ask. you’ve spent the day with him, waiting for him to pop the question and now he’s dropping you home, pulling up outside your house.

you stare out the window, before turning to look at him.

“see you tomorrow, yeah?” he eyes you, a little confused by your unusual quietness. you stare at him for another moment before bursting into tears. “hey— hey? woah? the fuck just happened?” his eyes widen, tilting his head to get a better look at you.

“why—” you hiccup. “why don’t you want me t’be your valentine?”

“wh—” he has the audacity to laugh, closing his eyes for a moment in disbelief before squinting at you. “so— so, lemme get this straight— we’ve been dating for, how long now? you got me talkin’ your ear off about how i’m gonna put a ring on your finger one day, fuckin’… fill you up with babies, but you think i’m not your valentine?”

“you’re supposed to ask me.” you mewl and he closes his mouth, looking around as he collects himself, running a hand over his jaw.

“i-i didn’t know i was supposed to. alright— i’m-i’m kinda new to all this shit, baby you’re the first fuckin’ girl i’ve taken seriously in forever n’i’m expected to know this shit straight off the bat without you tellin’ me? ‘n i’m the bad guy?” he rants, pointing to himself with both hands which prompts you to swiftly open your door and get out the car, shoulders wracking with sobs as you walk toward you car. “shit.” he whispers between grit teeth before punching his steering wheel and yanking his door open, walking around the car to follow you.

“okay— hey, look at me. stop, stop.” he jogs to catch up, appearing infront of you, holding you by the arms to stop you from walking. you look down, sniffling and he sighs, wiping the tears away. “look i… i shouldn’t have said that, okay? i just— i lost my temper ‘cus… i feel like i’m not doin’ right by you when i’m really trying i mean i got the reservations and the flowers and everything for tomorrow…i just…” he explains helplessly, brows furrowed. you look up at him, and he can tell you’re feeling swayed by his explanation.

he clears his throat. “so, uh… will you be my valentine please?”

you can’t help it, a smile breaks out on your face even despite the sassy way he said it, nodding your head. you sniff, batting your wet eyelashes at him.

“yeah.”

“yeah? not gonna freak out on me again?” his own smile starts to build and you shake your head happily. “alright. good.” he pinches your cheeks and presses a long kiss to your forehead before pulling back, pointing a finger at you. “so i’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? wear something pretty for me alright?”

you seem satisfied enough and he watches you skip off happily before he saunters back to his car, climbing in and sighing, resting his arms on the steering wheel. “you are so fucking whipped, man.” he drawls to himself.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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lilacsandpetals · 2 months

Text

Frozen Blossoms

Frozen Blossoms Pt. 7

Last part here

Bi-Han x F! Reader

Tags and notes: Arranged marriage AU, SFW (but some suggestive themes), exploring emotions, Pre-MK1/MK1 AU

Warnings: NSFW, violent thoughts kinda?

As you returned, you had fallen asleep in Bi-Han’s arms, so you don’t exactly remember when you got home. Everything seemed like a blur as you tried to make sense of what happened, all the while medics had been tending to your sustained wounds. Most of the lacerations were minor. A few cuts, some scrapes, and unsightly bruises were present, but you didn’t consider it that alarming. Then there was the sprain your ankle sustained, which would be unpleasant to manage. But that would heal within a few weeks, as long as you rest, that is. You could manage the physical wounds. That wasn’t the main thing that was bothering you. It was more so trying to grasp what had just happened, the stress, and the plethora of other emotions that came wrapped up with it.

Sometime after all the commotion you found yourself lying on your bed, cleaned up, and with a change of clothes. You appeared much better, truly you were anything but. Your head was aching, you felt almost nauseous as you replayed the sequence of events over in your head again and again. It was as if you were working yourself into feeling ill. It was odd, you didn’t want to think about it, you wanted to pretend that it didn’t happen. That it was some type of horrid dream. Yet your brain drifted back to it almost constantly; going over what had occurred and what you could’ve done to avoid it.

A part of you felt ashamed. You felt as if you caused such a hassle. And maybe you felt embarrassed too, you started your training here shortly after you married, and yet when you needed it, you couldn’t put any of your knowledge or training to use. How were you supposed to live up to your status? Did the rest of the clan think less of you?

You didn’t think any of this could be a possibility when you had gotten married. It just never occurred to you. You should’ve thought it over more seriously before marrying him. But back then you were actively trying to avoid thinking about the marriage altogether, you were running away from your impending future. How foolish of you. Maybe you would have been more mentally prepared if you had been realistic and rational. It was an unspoken expectation to expect risks in your position, and now you are suffering more than you would have, had you taken the time to process that fact.

But you’re tired now, and you don’t want to think about it. You want it to stop. So you try to sleep. You close your eyes and hope this is all a bad dream.

——————————

This wasn’t a dream.

It was more like a nightmare, that’s what it felt like for Bi-Han. It all happened too quickly. Nothing he considered suspicious had occurred when he accompanied you. And he had thought that slipping away for a moment would be fine. He was so focused on trying to find the perfect gift for you, something that would suit you, that he didn’t realize what had happened until a fire erupted. Screams and the commotion of fleeing civilians took over his senses as he scanned the area for you. He had helped some people avoid injury, leading and practically pushing them away from harm. Maybe he could have been more considerate but he wasn’t particularly focused on them. Perhaps it was selfish, but he was solely concentrated on finding you.

But you disappeared quickly, and from that point on, he knew the fire was a calculated distraction. He rapidly returned home to recruit his brothers’ assistance in locating who could have stolen you away from him. And he was quick to deduct that a rival clan had kept you as a hostage. At least that’s what he hoped. Because he knew rivalries were rarely kind affairs. And that the quicker you were killed, the faster new bridal prospects would be offered up to secure new alliances.

He doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want to think about it. That’s why he wastes no time tracking you down. He leaves Kuai Liang and Tomas to collect notable evidence as they rampage through the worn-down building. He’ll need it to quell any problems that may arise from the bloodshed he is about to partake in. He is devoid of mercy as his bloodlust takes over his every action, allowing it to steer him like the strings of a puppet. His heart beats widely, Kuai Liang and Tomas have gone ahead of him, searching for you. And he’ll have to thank them after this is over. He needs you to be alive. You have to be, but a part of him is fearful as he breaks through the door where his brothers’ voices filter through.

And there you were. Alive, scared, and disheveled.

He hasn’t felt such an odd mix of relief and sadness before.

So when he gathers you up in his arms to return home, he tries to remain calm, like he is composed, even though he is anything but. He is glad you felt comfortable enough to doze off as he carried you back home, but as he thinks back on it, you were more than likely just exhausted. When he handed you off to the medics you had woken up abruptly, gripping his arm with such desperation that it made his stoic face finally falter. He couldn’t hide the frown that made its way to his face as he tried his best to comfort you, assure you that he was in the room, that he was not going anywhere, and that the medical staff had to make sure you were okay. And when he reluctantly let you go, he couldn’t help but feel that he disappointed you.

He keeps a watchful eye as your wounds are tended to, and when you’re being bathed and dressed by a few select maids he slips away to fill in the Grandmaster on what has happened. On his way there, he pulls the hairpin from his pocket, eyeing it for a moment before hastily shoving it away. He doesn’t want to look at it right now.

——————————

The days pass by, some more quickly than others. Your wounds slowly healed, although a few of the cuts manifested into unsightly scars. Thankfully your ankle was healing in a timely manner.

And Bi-Han was at your side through it all. Ever the dutiful husband. He was attentive, keeping an eye on you, tending to any need before you even had the chance to ask. He was patient with you. His hands were gentle whenever he helped change any bandages or the binding on your ankle.

But he was quiet. More so than usual.

You would try to make conversation, but he seemed adamant about keeping your verbal interactions brief. You asked if he’d want to drink tea with you in the mornings and evenings. He used to say yes and you two would converse, even if he was busy. Now you were met with quick and polite refusals. You’d ask him about his day, he’d be to the point, barely elaborating on anything the way he once did. You felt as if the only times your conversations were extensive were when they revolved around your injuries and healing process. The sense of intimacy you both shared seemed to be rapidly deteriorating as well. The other night you lazily turned to him in your bed. He was looking at you, not a word left his lips. You whispered a simple goodnight and leaned it slightly, just to place a chaste kiss on his skin. But he tilted his face down, slightly away from you. You figured he was tired, yet you feared it was something else.

It perplexed you. He maintained the same level of kindness, but you felt as if there was a disconnect. Was he angry at you? Or maybe disappointed? It wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you had asked to be kidnapped. But maybe if you were better equipped, better prepared, then it would’ve never happened. And if it never happened maybe you two could have been closer by now. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so far away even when he’s in the same damn room as you.

His demeanor had added to the myriad of thoughts that circled through your mind like clockwork. It was exhausting. You placed a hand on your forehead as you lay in your bed. You wanted so badly for it to stop, but these thoughts always lingered in the back of your head. And tonight was no different. On occasion it seeps into your dreams, conjuring up different scenarios of what could have been. Scenarios where Bi-Han didn’t come to your aid in time or where he explicitly makes his distaste of you known. It makes you wake up in a cold sweat. To which Bi-Han would promptly awaken as well. He would reassure you that you were safe within the Lin Kuei’s walls and that he was by your side before urging you to go back to sleep.

If this one event was enough to rattle you, it made you wonder if Bi-Han ever had any nightmares. He had seen and endured far more than you ever had. Did it ever bother him? Did it ever disturb his sleep? Now that you think of it, he only ever fell asleep after you were sound asleep. Other than the past days, you rarely ever woke up in the middle of the night, so you weren’t aware of him dealing with any nightmares, if he did suffer any at all. Some semblance of guilt settled in your stomach. Maybe you should be more attentive in that way, or at least check up on him more often. This incident opened your eyes to the reality of his line of work. Of course, you knew the Lin Kuei are a fierce clan but it was different when you had experienced it firsthand. You didn’t know how gruesome their outings could be, it made you worry for him more than you did before.

At that moment, the image of Bi-Han coming to your rescue comes to mind. He was doused in the shade of red that day. You could scarcely see the blue and black shades of his clothing. Splotches of blood had been splattered across his cheek and forehead. When he carried you back you had noticed the dried blood stuck under his fingernails, was that his blood or someone else’s? You had a feeling it wasn't his. He was capable of a level of brutality that you weren’t fully aware of prior. And the image of your husband practically soaked in someone’s else blood is seared into your mind.

Although, it didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would.

Was that a bad thing? You couldn’t tell.

——————————

Bi-Han thinks that you haven't been yourself lately, but he doesn’t blame you. You always seem lost in thought, your facial expressions oscillate between concentrated or dissociated. You often had a headache or just didn’t feel well. He thinks it’s still the shock of the incident getting to you.

And today is no different.

A migraine had taken hold of you today and so staying confined to your bed seemed all too enticing. It was becoming a bad habit. Technically your body was healing and you should be getting back into the regular flow of your lessons, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get right back to it. You know you should, it’d help you be better prepared for future endeavors, and maybe it would serve as a good distraction. But lately, your motivation has been lacking. So again you’ve found yourself isolated, staying in your room more often than not.

But your head hurts and you feel slightly nauseous, so it’s more comfortable to stay in bed than venture out. The majority of the day is spent going in and out of sleep.

Bi-Han enters the room quietly. He’s been busy lately, trying to better himself. Taking up more responsibility from his father in managing the clan, and training more often.

It’s for your sake, really. That is what he tells himself.

But he’s taking a break from his busy schedule. He just wants to see if you’ve eaten yet. Much to his dismay there is a tray of untouched food at your bedside, while you lay buried under a layer of cotton blankets.

You were falling asleep again, trying not to mull over the same worries that had been eating away at you for days. Your eyes were closed but you felt a dip in the bed and a hand brush up against your forehead before it gently pet your hair. You knew it was Bi-Han. It was comforting when he was near, you felt far safer with him than you did with anyone else. You didn’t open your eyes, your eyelids felt too heavy and your body was being lulled to sleep, but a small smile briefly graced your lips. He caught sight of it.

He was satisfied that you were getting some sleep at the very least, he’d often have to soothe you back to sleep after you’d wake up in a panic from nightmares plaguing you in the dark of night. Every time you endured another nightmare, he felt his guilt increase. However, you currently looked peaceful, and seeing your smile just now gave him a sense of satisfaction, or rather what he’d come to know as just plain happiness.

But did he deserve that happiness?

It scares him that he was undoubtedly close to not being able to see you smile again. He retracts his hand, and you don’t react. He figures that you must be asleep now. His back leans against the headboard of the bed, while his eyes drag down to take in your form.

He has not spent much time with you since that day. Part of him yearned for you, and yet part of him was keen on avoiding you.

He didn’t realize he would take such a liking to you when he married you, but he grew weak to your presence. Soon enough he found himself intoxicated with you. The small delights of your smile, your touch, your softly spoken words, they had taken hold of him. You had become precious to him. And when softening his heart towards you, he failed to realize the anguish he would suffer had you ever been taken away from him.

It’s as if he could feel himself shutting down. Building up a wall against the harm you might do to him. Because the fact that the very things he adored about you were finite, that you would not be here forever, terrified him.

Pathetic.

He wanted to avoid the hurt. Shield himself from an uncertain future. It wasn’t his intention. He didn’t even notice the visceral response, at first anyway. Of course, he took care of you, but he limited himself. He didn’t speak to you as often, as if to punish and protect himself simultaneously. He was hesitant. Why attach himself any more than he already was? It only posed a greater risk to him. And now his own lack of competency reveals a rotten core that causes him to be egocentric yet again. To slowly start pushing you away again despite your needs and despite the desires that lay in the crevices of his heart.

For a lingering moment, he thinks of his father. How his father must’ve hurt when his mother died.

His father really loved his mother, didn’t he?

He misses his mother.

She was a strong woman, honorable and resilient. As a child, he always thought his mother would be there. He was exposed to the concept of death at a very young age, but he never thought it would pertain to his family. As he grew older he understood that perhaps there would be a risk of death in battle. He’d seen his clanmates perish and witnessed his father slaughter their enemies and those who threatened Earthrelm. And then he partook in those activities himself when he was just barely blooming into adolescence. He never anticipated death to come to him or one of his loved ones through illness. And yet he was served just that. No matter how strong his mother was, no matter how mindful she was, she was betrayed by her own body. And he was powerless to stop it. He felt as if she slipped through his fingers. He hated watching her wither away bit by bit. He despised how helpless and fearful he had felt back then. He hadn’t felt that type of despair until that fire erupted and you disappeared from his sight.

And after his mother passed, nothing ever felt the same anymore. His father said time would heal their wounds. But he found his father to be dishonest because not a day went by where he wouldn’t ponder the fantasy of a life where his mother lived a healthy life.

Some reality where his mother didn’t frantically scold him for weeping about her misfortune. Where his father didn’t push him exponentially harder than his brothers. Where he didn’t have to watch his father fall apart in private. Where he didn’t have to bear the burden of his father’s anguish-fueled training, and where he didn’t have to tend to Kuai Liang’s sadness at the expense of his own grieving process. He buried that grief within him, and it somehow found its way to seep out of him.

Maybe it wasn’t just grief.

Some immature, boyish part of him was angry. Upset that his mother left him to bear so much on his own.

Anger was such a familiar emotion to him, But this anger felt different. Taking root and creeping out of a part of himself that he seldom shows anyone.

He was angry that his mother left him. And he was furious at himself for still being hurt over it. It was immature and unbecoming of him. Perhaps that was the same anger he felt towards you, he abhorred the fact that you had grown to be of such importance to him. He hated that you could cause him to delve into that ever-familiar fear and worry once more. He hated that you could have left him.

But truly, it’s all misguided, and deep down he knows it.

If he is being honest, he detests himself for feeling the way he does.

There’s a rustling of the bedsheets and Bi-Han is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you gasp.

“What is it?” he asks in a rather urgent tone.

Your eyes flutter open and you move to slowly sit up, you take a few deep breaths and instinctively grip his forearm, his hand is slow as he moves to place it over yours. The sudden nature of your awakening leads him to believe you must’ve experienced a glimpse of another nightmare, and he can’t bring himself to ask you if you’ve dreamt about the incident again. If you’re dreaming about his shortcomings again. He knows he is tactless. If you bring up the nightmare, he will assure you again that it will not happen, as he has done in nights prior. It’s almost amusing that as many times as he has reassured you, his own confidence falters bit by bit.

If you do not bring up any distressing dreams, he will not push you to disclose anything.

“Are you hurt?” he mumbles. You shake your head, but wince when you try to move your foot. “The wraps on my ankle are bothering me, I just want to take them off for a little while,” you say softly and lean forward but Bi-Han lightly waves his hand. “I will do it.”

You lean back and Bi-Han raises your foot as he unwraps the binding. He moves your foot from side to side slowly, as he’s no stranger to a sprained ankle. “The binding is bothering you more because you haven’t been elevating your foot enough. The more often you keep it elevated, the less swollen it’ll be,” he says and grabs a small pillow to place under your foot.

“Thank you,” you respond and shoot him a smile. “I appreciate all the help.”

“It’s my duty, is it not?”

You bite your lip. You appreciated his help, but you thought by now he’d give you a different answer. Something that alluded to a suggestion of care or affection. You thought he would ask if you’ve had another nightmare (you did). But you awoke to his presence and it is comforting enough to know that he is by your side. Yet the air feels thick in your lungs as you acknowledge that his words are minimal. He asks no questions despite the knowing look in his eyes.

You sigh quietly, “Duty is everything, hm?”

His eyes meet yours for an uncomfortable moment. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

You properly sit up now. “You know when we married I initially performed out of duty. But now it’s out of care. I care about you Bi-Han.” You want to say more, add a more potent word to showcase your feelings for him, but you bite your tongue.

“And you think I don’t care about you? Why else would your well-being concern me?” He tosses the wraps to the floor and you can’t help but think your statement has struck a nerve.

You cross your arms, “do not twist my words.”

He looks towards you, a small frown forms on his face, but it disappears just as fast. “Haven’t I proven myself to you? I watch over you day and night, I take care of you.”

A retort lays at the tip of your tongue but you refrain from speaking. Technically, he was speaking the truth. Yet you desired something more. Maybe you were misconstruing things? But no. You knew something was off. So you hold his gaze and shake your head. “Yes, you have. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You’re hesitant for a moment. “Is everything alright?”

The question catches him off guard. Have you noticed any change? He has attempted to maintain the air of normalcy as much as possible. “Yes.”

You wanted to give him a chance to voice his concerns. “Are you sure?” You ask quietly. You know something is off, but how much were you meant to push him on the subject? Bi-Han places his hand on your shoulder “I am certain.”

You lay your hand over his and squeeze it gently, “If you say so.”

You don’t believe him.

——————————

There’s a full moon that just barely shines through the window of the kitchen. You’ve always found it lovely, a peaceful and comforting sight. It’s a stark contrast to the tea kettle screeching above a small flame on the stove.

You take longer than usual to remove it from the heat.

You’d much rather be in bed right now, but you’d woken up in the middle of the night to find your bed empty. You were waking up in the middle of the night less often as time went on. Bit by bit your fear of being snatched away began to decrease. Yet the unease of your husband’s behavior fueled your overthinking. And the fact that this was the third time this week that he had disappeared in the middle of the night did nothing to help you. You suspect that he went to train on his midnight excursions, as you’d often stir awake when he’d return. You’d catch glimpses of him heaving and glistening with sweat.

Bi-han’s behavior leads you to think he is not being entirely honest. Now you do have to hand it to him, he is extremely skilled at concealing his unrest when he really wants to. But the longer you two have been married, the more of his habits you’ve picked up on. When he is angry or upset the training grounds become his second home, he becomes reckless; more scrapes and bruises grace his hands. He refrains from drinking his preferred tea of oolong and instead opts for something more bitter. He doesn’t converse as often anymore. You know it’s not as noticeable as before, but its lack still lingers. It irks you, it feels like such an odd step back. You do try to be patient, but you thought you were past this. You thought you were at a point where true comfort could be found with one another.

You worry about him. He had slowly opened up to you, but not to the degree you long for. You felt like you were always longing for more, when would you finally get it? You wonder if Bi-Han feels the same, and you wonder if he struggles to articulate the desire just as you do. You suspect that if you bluntly ask him what is troubling him, he will brush off the question. So you will have to devise an alternative strategy.

You carefully pour two cups of tea and now you wait. It’s in the late hours of the night. You assume the others are asleep. Your ears are attentive to your surroundings and hear the echo of footsteps getting louder and louder as they resonate through the hallway. You choose this moment to ambush your husband.

Bi-Han abruptly comes to a stop, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was startled. He looks at you the way a disappointed superior would. “What are you doing up at his hour? And what of your ankle? Go to bed.”

You shake your head. “No, I couldn’t sleep and it seems that neither can you. So I made tea for the both of us”

He sighs and rubs his knuckles lightly, they’re red. “No, I am fine without tea.”

You try not to roll your eyes. You were attempting to remain neutral but here you were already beginning to lose your patience. Or perhaps that was a side effect of feeling tired.

Your hand makes its way to grab his forearm. “I already made it, you might as well drink it.”

He looks down at your hand and figures that arguing more at this point wouldn’t do him any good. He follows you to the small table in the kitchen, pulling out a chair for you to sit on before he sits down himself. So he joins you, sipping his tea quietly so as to not disturb you. However, he is mistaken because his silence is perplexing you to no end.

You sip your tea as well, it’s too hot. “You know I’ve missed our conversations, I feel as if we barely have time to spend together, let alone have a conversation.”

His gaze meets yours. The desire to be defensive is there, but all he does is return his eyes to his tea. He misses your chats too, in the morning, midday, the evening, but he can’t bring himself to say it. He doesn’t deserve your company if he has failed at protecting you, one of the main fundamentals of being a husband. “I’ve taken on more responsibilities recently.”

“Do those responsibilities include avoiding me?” You ask plainly and raise an eyebrow at him.

So much for subtlety.

His eyebrows furrow and that ever-familiar crease emerges on his forehead. “Whatever I do, I do for your benefit.”

“The lack of your presence does not benefit me.”

He clenches his jaw. He won’t voice it, but he is exhausted, he doesn’t exactly want to address this right now. “Am I not by your side whenever my schedule allows me the time? Have I not checked up on you throughout the day? Do I not aid you whenever necessary?”

Your resolve falters briefly. That was true, he still cared for you, physically anyway. “That’s not what I mean.”

He knows what you mean, and he is simultaneously impressed yet shamefully irked that you have taken notice of it. He is unwilling to speak on it.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You cross your arms. Of course, he would avoid the topic, he was a stubborn man, you knew that by now. “Fine, you can go to bed.”

Bi-Han finishes his tea in one quick gulp before getting up and looking at you. “Finish your tea, let’s go.”

“No I’d rather stay here, I’ll come to bed later.”

“Wife, it’s late, I’d rather not leave you here alone.” You could hear the shift in his voice, from polite to politely annoyed, and maybe a hint of underlying concern.

“You left our bedroom in the middle of the night to train anyway.”

He supposes you’re correct. “You were asleep when I left. I was getting in more practice, and our bedroom is one of the safest places in the Lin Keui’s Palace.”

“In my opinion, the kitchen is safe enough. Goodnight.” You return to drinking your tea and Bi-Han does not move. You wonder when he’ll leave the room, but the second you finish the tea you feel your chair being swiftly pulled backward and before you know it, your husband has taken you up into his arms. You briefly grasp at his shirt from the sudden movement. “What’re you doing?”

“Your ankle hasn’t fully healed yet. I’m taking you back to our room.”

“My ankle is almost fully healed. Put me down.” Even though you speak your request, part of you wants him to deny it.

“No.”

You try not to focus on him as he brings you back to your shared bedroom. You keep your eyes averted from his face, and he notices. He places you down on your side of the bed.

“So stubborn,” he mumbles under his breath.

Your head snaps back up to look at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he responds gruffly and proceeds to let his hair down. You pinch the bridge of your nose “You’re far more stubborn than I am.”

“Oh, am I?”

“You know you are.” You pause and lay down in your bed facing the opposite direction before pulling the sheets up to your shoulders. “Pushing me away won’t help anything and we both know it,” you mumble.

“I’m not in the mood to quarrel with you, I’m going to bed. You should too.”

You close your eyes, trying not to focus on the sounds of your husband maneuvering around the room, and hoping that sleep falls upon you quickly.

——————————

Your hair is being particularly troublesome today as you try to style it. You need something to pin it back. Maybe it’s because the air is thick, but you can’t decipher if that’s due to the placebo of your own tense thoughts, or if the usually frigid climate has a touch of humidity. And maybe you’re mulling over minor peculiarities to convince yourself that it’s all a sign to move forward.

Today you’ve pushed yourself to try and engage with your regular schedule again, at least when it came to your lessons. So as you sit in front of your vanity you take a deep breath and try not to let your mind wander. But that was easier said than done. You had to look presentable today, how long would you be allowed to wallow in your room? Even if they let you keep to yourself for days, it wouldn’t exactly display a good impression. You had to become acclimated to moving forward despite what you dealt with. Everyone else in the clan seemed capable of doing it, so you should be too.

One particular strand of hair fails to stay in place as your hand traverses your jewelry box. You are looking for a clip or pin to match your clothing for today, but nothing seems to suit your tastes. A sigh of frustration leaves your lips and you start rummaging through the drawers nearby. Now Bi-Han kept some of his belongings in the bottom drawer and you knew that. You rarely saw him open it and in the process of hastily checking each one, you open his. Now you’re not one for snooping around, you respected your husband’s privacy. But technically, what’s yours was his and what’s his was yours, isn’t that what married couples always said? Or at least the ones that had been around you growing up had uttered the phrase here and there. Your eyes quickly scan the contents of the drawer before coming to a halt. Hidden away in the back corner of the drawer is a small blue box adorned with gold lining. You raise a brow, you don’t think you’ve seen Bi-Han with any pieces of jewelry before, not after your wedding day. You carefully pick up the box and examine it before opening it.

What you find perplexes you.

‘What is that?’

A lone pin sits at its center. It is simple, silver, with a shimmering blue gemstone at its core. You delicately pick it up. This was a pin suited for a female. Was this for you? It must be, right?

Although wouldn’t Bi-Han have given it to you by now?

You told yourself you’d try to maintain a sound mind today, and yet your husband’s distance delves your brain into overthinking again. What if the pin was for someone else? What if he didn’t see you fit for the role of his wife any longer?

No.

You cannot allow your thoughts to wander any longer like this. You were already mentally exhausted and you refuse to add this to your list of worries. Still, it concerns you that you had found this hidden away, or what you assumed to be hidden anyway. Perhaps this was against your better judgment, but the pin was simple and beautiful. To be fair even if it didn’t entirely match your outfit, it did match your necklace.

If this accessory was meant to be a surprise you don’t understand why he would take so long to give it to you. No holidays were near, nor was your birthday coming up.

A hypothesis forms within your thoughts as you pull back a portion of your hair and hold it in place with the hairpiece. If Bi-Han sees the pin and becomes aggressive, then it must be for another. If he sees the pin and leaves it, it must be for you. Now you would expect a minor scolding, maybe you’d be reprimanded for ruining a surprise, but if the gift was for you anyway, you wouldn’t consider it a big deal. You stare at your reflection in the mirror and take a deep breath. Your eyes fall to the necklace you are wearing. Bi-Han did have good taste when it came to picking out things for you. He was attentive in that way. A twinge of guilt seeps into you, he has grown warmer towards you since you had married. Maybe his distance wasn’t a fault of your own, but an outcome of what had happened to you.

Maybe it had shaken him up as well.

You decide you will speak to him this evening.

——————————

Your tutors were happy to meet with you today, and due to your lack of consistency with attending your lessons, you had a lot to catch up on. You did not mind it very much. Truthfully it helped to keep your brain from wandering. You’ve seen Bi-Han throughout the day in passing, he would stop by the room you were in and eye you up and down before asking if you were feeling okay. You’d give him a curt “yes,” or just a nod of the head to indicate that you were busy.

You don’t think he believes you.

The day goes by quickly for you and soon your tutor is advising you to join your family for dinner, but you calmly decline. Conjuring up an excuse that convinces your instructor to leave you be. You’d probably grab a snack to satiate you later on. For now, you just wanted time to think. Approaching your husband after dinner concludes seems like a decent idea. You don’t think Bi-Han noticed your new little accessory and based on last night’s sour conclusion, you didn’t want to suffer through an awkward dinner with your in-laws present. You yawn and lean back in your chair while stretching out your arms. Maybe you can go relax for now, you think you deserved it after all that work.

——————————

Bi-Han wasn’t all that hungry right now, he told Kuai Liang that he’d dine later on as he had something to take care of. Honestly, he didn’t want to face you just yet. Nor did he want to maintain the guise of a happy couple who hadn’t argued the prior night. Engaging in theatrics for his clan’s pleasure was much easier when you two had first married, but now a simple argument had him uneasy. He knew you were still upset and he knew he was partially at fault.

He slowly makes his way through the halls of his home as his mind wanders. To be fair, he thought you were partially to blame as well. You just had to keep prying no matter how many times he had refuted your remarks. His walking comes to a slow halt as he thinks of what you said the night prior. Was his absence affecting you that much? A selfish part of him is satisfied with your longing for him, yet he again feels frustration when he thinks of his attachment to you as well. And it stings to think that he is once again failing as your husband. He should’ve been attentive, he knows you need it. And yet he is mindfully absent for his own heart’s sake, or maybe for its penance. He sighs as he opens the door to find you already there. He is about to utter your name as you turn around until his eyes catch sight of the jewel that adorns your hair. His breath hitches and his heart beats a little faster.

Before you can even greet him, his voice clamors through your room.

“Take that out of your hair and put it back where you found it. Now” he hisses.

You narrow your eyes, so he did notice it although you weren’t expecting such a visceral response. “No.”

He clenches his jaw and steps forward, you take a step back. “Why do you want me to take it off?” you say in an accusatory tone. ‘So much for resting.’

“Because I am your husband, and I am asking you to remove it” he responds. You raise an eyebrow, you can tell he is trying to maintain an undisturbed aura but it is not working. “And I am your wife, telling you I am not taking it off,” you respond and smile up at him. “Maybe if you told me why you want me to remove it so badly, I’d be more inclined to do so.”

He sighs as if he is tired and you speak up again, “Because if you don’t, it makes me wonder if this was a gift for someone else.”

His jaw practically drops, “Do you think so low of me?”

“What else am I supposed to think when you’ve hidden this pin away?” You hastily take off the hairpin and flash it in front of him. He steps forward and reaches to take it but you take another step back. You know he could snatch it right out of your hand before you even had a chance to realize that he’s done so. Therefore some part of you appreciates his failure to do so.

You cross your arms with the pin still in hand, “Bi-Han, why would you hide this away?” You bite your lip out of nervousness.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re fretting over things you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

You can tell how frustrated he is by the way he clenches his fists and the deep breath he takes. But you watch how his face changes, from frustration to disdained haughtiness. He steps forward once more and by now your back is against the wall.

He eyes you up and down and his eyebrows furrow. “Give me the hairpin.”

You sigh, he does look slightly unnerving to you, but you will not allow such tactics to sway you. “Intimidate me all you want, we both know it won’t work with me, I know you well enough by now.” If you were honest, this whole ordeal made you feel like you didn’t know him at all.

Bi-Han’s hands come to rest on your shoulders. “You don’t know me.”

You let out a defeated laugh. How were you supposed to spend the rest of your life with someone that refused to communicate? The very thought unnerved you. “Then help me fix that!” you respond in an exasperated tone. “And here I am again, begging you to help me understand. What am I missing here? And do not lie to me. How long would you have us both dance around this unspoken issue?”

He shakes his head in a defeated manner, it doesn’t suit him, “Don’t concern yourself with such things.”

You shoot him an angry look, “I concern myself because it involves us. I am your wife and I can’t read your mind,” You hiss and motion towards yourself. “What is it? Are you ashamed of me? I’m sorry.” You tried to maintain a calm demeanor but your voice is shrill by now. You shove the hairpin into his chest and attempt to push him away from you, but the pin falls to the floor as his hands wrap around your shoulders. The look in his eyes screams of intensity, while yours remain seeped in anger.

‘Sorry?’

Why would you be sorry? It’s his fault. He hated to even acknowledge the fact, but it was true. Had he been present, had he been there, none of this would’ve happened. Had he been a proper husband, he would’ve kept you safe.

Just another task he’s failed at.

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, there is,” you respond stubbornly.

He stares at you, his look has now become unreadable to you. “I am the one who failed you.”

That statement of his brings you pause. You tilt your head up and lean forward rather confused. You would never take him as one to admit failure of any sort.

“Failed me at what? What do you mean?” Your throat feels dry as you await a response. What could he possibly be going on about? Your hand moves up to squeeze his hand gently, urging him to continue. His eyebrows are still furrowed, and you hear him gulp before he speaks. “If I had been more watchful, you would not have been taken or injured in the first place.”

Oh.

He had saved you, you were living and breathing before him, yet that’s what had been on his mind. Your resolve falters a bit. You didn’t realize it was that, and here you were worrying that he was ashamed of you. Perhaps you’ve thought too little of yourself. You had taken the increasing distance for a perpetual disking, not quiet insecurity.

“I- I thought it was something else. I thought it was me, or the state of our marriage-”

He cuts you off, “What do you mean.” His voice is a little quieter now.

“Bi-Han.”

“Answer me.” He sighs in a tone that echos remorse, “please.”

You gaze up at him as his eyes lock on yours. His heart is beating fast, and he hates it. His facade is crumbling before you.

He hates it.

“We were married off too quickly, I didn’t think things through, I did not realize what I was getting myself into.” You look back at him now, searching for a hint of emotion in his face, but he does his best to remain stoic. Still, you place a hand on his cheek, and the sensation of his jaw clenching is felt on your fingers.

You feel his hand cover yours, you wonder if he’s trying to remove your touch.

“Are you attempting to imply that you’re not happy with our arrangement?-“ he cuts himself off. He was about to snap at you. Say that he can bring you back home to your original clan if that’s what you desire, that he’d end things amicably. However he knows he could never do that, he’d rather keep you locked away for himself. Would that be another sentiment of his selfishness? It is. He’s been pushing you away, but the thought of you actually leaving strikes fear into his heart.

You shake your head vigorously, “No, I was uneasy initially, but I’m happy when you are actually around.” You drop your hands and clutch at the fabric of your own dress. “I want you around. I feel safer with you around. I miss you.” You say softly. You almost feel like a child, confessing feelings of fondness. Surely you’ve told him you missed him before? But this is different. His hand comes to rest against your cheek, drawing your attention back up to him.

You miss him. And truthfully, he misses you too. You will not live forever, neither will he. Your time together is finite. He desires your time. He desires your affection, your presence. Why in the world has he been depriving himself of something you’ve been so willing to give? He knows, but his burning inhibitions are beginning to quiet down as he looks back at you. The look on your face has morphed into something sincere, so genuine. You reach out to him with open arms, offering up a place of solace that he’s been desperately craving since he was a boy. He engulfs you in his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck, almost as if he’s trying to shield himself from his own shortcomings. It’s against his very nature, but he can’t help himself, not anymore.

The words spill out like vomit. Repulsive to him. But it’s soothing to your ears, it serves as an assurance that you’ve yet to lose him.

“I endangered you. I nearly lost you.” His tone is so wrath with what you liken to regret, that it pains you.

“I should have known better, I should have kept a better eye on you. What if you had gotten gravely injured? What if you were killed? It’s my fault. How am I fit to be your husband when I’ve failed at the simplest of duties? If I can’t even keep you out of harm's way, how am I to be cognizant of the safety of my clan?.” His voice falters the slightest bit as he speaks.

“It’s not your fault. If it weren’t for you I would not be alive.” You say quietly.

Neither of you faces the other as you speak, only hiding away in the embrace that shields each other to some degree. But you can’t bear it anymore. You attempt to pull away, to look at him face to face, and guarantee that he believes you when you vocalize your assurance. But he doesn’t let you. His grip on you is firm, his fingers dig into your sides as if he’s trying to keep you from disappearing. “Don’t.” He speaks so quietly, it’s unlike him. Your fingers graze the back of his neck before you find yourself petting his hair, you’re content when he doesn’t pull away.

“I-I am inadequate. I just didn’t think about how dangerous your line of work is. It didn’t occur to me until I was caught up in the middle of it. If I had been more aware of my surroundings, or if I had trained harder then maybe I wouldn’t have been in such a vulnerable situation.”

“Don’t speak of yourself that way.”

You shrug your shoulders lightly, “I’m only stating how I feel. And we both know that’s true.” You murmur.

“What good do you get out of blaming yourself?”

“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?”

He doesn’t respond and you gently tug at his hair, “Bi-Han?”

“It’s not the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“How can I not blame myself? I foolishly let my guard down, when I’ve been trained to never do so.”

You’re quiet for a moment. That day had been enjoyable for you both, you wouldn’t expect him nor yourself to have predicted the unfortunate events of that day.

“You’ve acknowledged that it’s happened, but as you said yourself, what good will constantly punishing yourself do? What’s done is done, and I am thankful that you kept me from greater harm.” You hold onto him tighter as you speak. “I see how you’re punishing yourself, don’t you understand that hurts me more than whatever happened that day?” You mumble quietly.

You hear his breath hitch. “That is not my intention.”

“But that’s what’s been happening.” You try to tear away from his grip, and he reluctantly lets you go so that you’re able to face him. You cup the sides of his face within the palms of your hands. “I care for you, we’ve been bound by marriage and I take that commitment seriously. I want to bear your burdens with you, haven’t I shown that I want to be by your side as we endure this life?”

His hands come up to grip your wrists as if he were to remove them from his face, but he refrains from doing so, “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“But I do,” you counter. You find yourself leaning closer. “I’ve experienced what risks come with your line of work now, and that is by no fault of either of us. Do you not think that I would have fled back to my clan had I truly wanted to leave? I’ve seen you drenched in the blood of your enemies and I still crave your presence. You’ve been deluding yourself.” You take a deep breath. “I vowed to remain with you through times of sickness and in health, through prosperity and devastation. Until my last breath.” Your hands move to the base of his neck and you tug him to get closer to you, he leans down slightly as you speak again “I expect you to vow the same. And to uphold those vows as I do.”

Maybe it is the haziness of words finally spoken, or the surge of warmth and tenderness coursing through his once cold veins, but before you can finish your sentiments you feel lips crashing into yours and desperate hands grasping at your waist. There’s a messy fervor to the kiss, an accumulation of unbridled longing and lingering frustration. Your teeth clash in between gasps and the colliding of lips. He pulls away briefly and you see the red tint emerging on his swollen lips. You find it enticing. Your fingertips brush up against his lips, “swear the same to me.” His hand rests on the back of your head as his lips make their way to trail from your jaw and down your neck. “I vow to remain by your side in sickness and in health, through prosperity and devastation.” Your breathing picks up, and you grip his shoulders.

“For how long?” You mumble.

“Until my final breath.”

His knee is pushing forward as he speaks, coming to rest in between your thighs and you slowly feel as if it’s becoming harder to maintain your composure. His hands encase you and before you can protest, he’s laid you on the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as he looms over you with both of his hands resting at your sides. In this moment you are reminded of how imposing his stature is. Excitement and nervousness blend into a sensation that makes your heart beat frantically. You look up at him, and he shifts his eyes from your gaze. You reach up and lightly tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” He says in a formal tone. His seriousness almost makes you chuckle.

Although you didn’t expect the evening to lead to this, you’re far too eager to refuse.“I am,” you respond as one of your hands trails his bicep. Meanwhile, his hand undoes the sash tied around your waist. His fingers move slowly, almost methodically now as he begins to remove your dress, you’re left in your undergarments and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Bi-Han slows down the pace and wonders if you are at all as nervous as he is. He excels at whatever he pursues and he thinks this should be no different, but when he’s not purely acting on instinct and has a moment to think, his mind wanders. He wonders if he will live up to your expectations. He tries not to speculate on if you’ve done this before with someone else, the very thought makes his blood boil. But these thoughts dissipate when your hand begins to undo his belt. He swiftly grabs your wrist and you give him a lazy smile, “I don’t want to be the only one undressed, I’d rather we be on equal footing.”

That was an excuse, you were actually eager to marvel at his physique.

He lets go of your wrist and sits back as he takes off his shirt. Your hand runs down his chest and abdomen. Bi-Han’s body appears as if it was sculpted, harboring the finest architecture. His skin is somewhat dry, but cool to the touch. As your hands drift along his torso you attempt to commit every curve and crevice to memory. Soon enough your arms wrap around his neck and you drag him down with you as you press your lips against his again and again. His hand slips to your back, attempting to undo the pesky layer of clothing shielding your chest from him. When he does get it off, you watch him toss it aside. You’ll scold him later about being so careless with your clothing. But your thoughts return to the activity at hand when, suddenly his hands are exploring your chest. His hands are rough and calloused against your skin, a stark contrast to your own. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you. You feel him smile against your lips but you pull away again and he takes the opportunity to drag his lips along your throat.

Your eyes are still closed as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s been so long since you’ve engaged in any form of physical intimacy, and to indulge to this degree with him is still so new to you. “I’m still somewhat mad, you know.”

He’s quiet for a moment as his lips traverse down your chest and stomach, occasionally allowing his teeth to graze your skin. “I would not fault you for it, allow me to make amends.”

“And how will you do that?” you mumble. He shifts his position downwards, hooking his fingers into the sides of your underwear, and just like that, the last piece of clothing veiling your body is gone. His gaze is greedy as he eyes your exposed form and you instinctively shut your legs. Only to have your husband take hold of your thighs and spread them apart. He allows his fingers to explore uncharted territory. And he takes note of your expressions as he does so. He drags a finger down your slit, intentionally lowering his body temperature so that you tremble at his touch. You want to grab something, and so your arms reach out towards him instinctively and there’s a sense of satisfaction that settles in his soul, watching you grasp at him when you’re so vulnerable like this. One of his hands takes hold of both of yours, kissing them. He runs his thumb across the scar on your left wrist, and he realizes it must be from the rope that day. It must have burned when it continuously chafed against your skin to the point of drawing blood.

“BI-Han?”

Oh.

He hasn’t realized he’s stopped the movement of his fingers, and that he’s been focused on your wrist more than he should be at this moment. He places one more kiss against the scar. You smile hesitantly, “So that you remember, I’m not upset about that.”

You are far too kind, too forgiving towards him. He does not respond but returns to his endeavors between your legs. You feel two of his fingers enter you and gasp in response. He maintains a constant motion, catching you off guard when his thumb moves to caress a certain bundle of nerves.

Maybe this is his desire to please you, to make amends for his behavior somehow, or maybe it’s his need to excel, to prove that he’s the best you’ll ever have. He doesn’t know exactly. He doesn’t know when such inclinations formed within him. He thought he’d be more concerned with chasing his own pleasure, but for now, it’s an afterthought. And before he knows it, his lips are brushing against your inner thigh.

A high-pitched gasp leaves your lips when he begins. You cover your mouth, surprised not only at the sounds that have left your mouth but additionally at his skill. You feel his hand reach up only to roughly tug at your arm, “do not hold yourself back,” he says gruffly. You can’t even bring yourself to respond. The man works wonders with his tongue. Your brain allows you to focus on nothing but your husband’s oral expertise.

Until your notation of his skill causes you to wonder.

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it lightly. Causing him to grunt and look up at you. His lips are slick.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You groan and pull his hair a tad harder. A small laugh leaves his lips, he will spare you for now.

You’re thinking about how you like the sound of his laughter when he responds. “You need to pay attention to your belongings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been reading your novels. They are descriptive.”

You feel even more heat rush up to your face as he returns to his venture between your thighs. You didn’t realize he’d been reading those books, part of you is embarrassed at him being aware of some of the content you prefer. However, if he puts his newly gained knowledge to use, you don’t mind him snooping on your reading material.

Tension begins to build but your husband deprives you of reaching that peak of pleasure just yet. You laugh breathlessly, “You’re being cruel. Was this meant to make amends or punish me?” His fingertips take hold of your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Patience, wife.”

The longing look in your eyes only fuels his desire for you. His arm hooks around your waist to drag up back up toward the front of the bed. And perhaps he’s become too eager, the growing ache in his pants is becoming harder to ignore. You watch as he hastily removes his remaining clothing. Your eyes travel downwards and you’re happy to find that your original suspicions were correct, he was well endowed. Bi-Han catches your line of sight and grabs your chin to make you look up at him again. “Shameless.”

You smile, “Can you blame me? I’ve been curious since our wedding night.” He raises an eyebrow, he supposes you were equally as curious as he was back then. You reach out a hand to touch him, touch it, but he catches your wrist, using the opportunity to quickly pin you back down to the bed.

“You must learn restraint.” Bi-Han knew he was teasing you but he was just as guilty. His eyes drank in the image of your exposed form. His hands move to travel down your body, groping and grasping at the flesh displayed before him. Your skin is oh-so-soft, and his fingers return once again to the heat between your legs. The sounds leaving your mouth make him feel dizzy with desire and he finds himself impatient. “Spread your legs.”

Before you respond, his hands grip your thighs to spread them apart.

He leans down and his cold breath mingles with yours as you gently take hold of his face in your hands.

He doesn’t speak. The situation almost doesn't seem real to him. Words would not be able to articulate what his feelings are at this moment, so he entrusts his touch to convey his affection and desire for you. Between kisses pressed to your lips and the connecting of your flesh, he finds bliss between your legs. His body acts on instinct, the feeling is maddening. Is this what he has been lacking in life? For a brief moment, he recalls tales of war and battles raged for the sake of woman’s love, for her affections and touch. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he can understand that reasoning.

But he is brought out of his trance when you let out a shaky breath and grasp him hard enough for your nails to leave red indents. He pulls back to see your face contort into pain and quickly removes himself out of a mix of embarrassment and concern.

He was hurting you.

In the past, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared, but he does now. He cares that he’s hurt you, and a part of him is ashamed that he became so lost in his own pleasures. Guilt is evident in the way he scowls and turns his face. You sit up and reach out a hand before he can even think to come up with a retort or retreat.

“It’s normal, stop it.” You practically tug him back on top of you. You know in the past, you wouldn’t make the effort to assure him, you wouldn’t long for him like this, but you do now. His arms rest on either side of you again and his eyebrows furrow when you graze your lips against the corner of his mouth. “Go slow at first, please.” And so he complies. The stinging emerges again and you scare him when your eyes shut in what appears like distress to him, prompting Bi-Han to halt his pace again. “… Are you positive you wish to engage in this with me.” His tone of voice is timid almost, a stark contrast to what you’re used to hearing.

“I’m certain.”

And so he continues, and soon the pain begins to delve into pleasure. You find yourself lost in ecstasy. Briefly, you think of how carefully his hands hold onto. How hands capable of killing could hold you so close. His hips continuously collide with yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him nearer. Obscene melodies echo throughout the room prompting your husband to pick up the pace. You know there’s a possibility that your voices might leak into the hallway. You know your nails are digging into his skin as you hold onto him for leverage, and you are aware that your skin will be littered with bruises and bite marks. But you could care less right now. Those will be problems to address later. For now, the physical sensation is all you can bring yourself to focus on.

Had Bi-Han known this is what consummating your relationship truly felt like, perhaps he would have taken you on the wedding night. But no, it wouldn’t feel this passionate, this consuming. You draw him in and the pleasure makes him practically feel intoxicated The sounds that escape your lips only heighten the experience. The way your nails drag down his back only reinvigorates him. His hands tangle in your hair and you feel his breathing pick up. His teeth graze your neck and you feel a distinct pressure building up within you. You assume he does as well when the grip he has on your body tightens enough to leave imprints. You’re left panting when he finishes, his seed dripping from your core and staining your thighs.

He seems as if he’s in a daze, breathing heavily as his eyes drag ever so slowly up your form. The image of you breathing heavily while sprawled out in front of him is one that he’d like to commemorate to memory.

But now the euphoria delves into exhaustion. His body weight becomes increasingly difficult it holds up as if his soul is luring him to rest. And before he knows it, he’s not bothering to hold himself up anymore. He’s lying against you, and he can feel your arms wrap around him once more. But the feeling is short-lived.

“You’re heavy, get off.” You groan. Maybe it’s the endorphins running through his veins, but he finds your annoyance endearing. He lazily rolls off of you and watches the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to catch your breath. Sweat glistens on your skin.

You catch his gaze and cross your arms over your chest. “How shameless,” you tease.

He reaches over to move your arms out of the way, and you allow him to.

“You seduced me, take it as a compliment.”

You chuckle lightly, “Noted.” You shift onto your side to face him. Bi-Han still looks effortlessly flawless. He hasn’t even broken a sweat in your recent activities, at least it looks that way to you. You move closer to him, enough so that you’re able to rest your head against his chest. “Aren’t you tired?” You inquire. Your husband shakes his head, “somewhat.” His movements are languid as he drapes an arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your forehead.

You let out a small chuckle. “What is it?” He asks.

“I could never imagine you behaving in such an endearing manner when we first met.”

“I’ve exceeded your expectations then,” he says in a factual tone of voice.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply jokingly.

He raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

And suddenly he’s maneuvered himself to loom over you once more. His lips hover over yours as he awaits your answer. Your body is worn out, you can feel a dull ache blooming between your legs, and perhaps your response is against your better judgment.

“Yes.”

——————————

The sunlight casts a warm glow as it enters your bedroom, and in time it nudges you awake. As your eyes flutter open slowly, you find your husband watching over you. “Good morning,” You say and smile as you reach out a hand to caress your husband’s cheek. He lays his hand over yours. “Good morning.” He takes your hand and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. “Did you sleep well?”

You chuckle lightly, “You put me right to sleep last night, I am well rested.” You try to shift your position but grimace at the soreness residing between your legs. “I may spend all day in bed.”

A smirk flashes across your husband’s face and you shoot him a pensive look, albeit lightheartedly.

You move to rest against him but stop when you remember the hairpin. “Bi-Han-“ you start off, but it’s as if he could already anticipate your question before you had a chance to ask. He holds the accessory between his fingertips. “In the chaos of the evening, it was displaced.” He appears the slightest bit hesitant but hands the pin back to you. “It was for you, or rather it is for you.” You smile faintly “It matches my necklace perfectly.”

“That’s why I selected it that day.” His voice trails off slowly. His silence echoes his sincerity and you smile softly at him.

“I’ll cherish it. Thank you.”

Your simple acknowledgment is enough to put him at ease now, but he still appears contemplative.

“What is it?”

These words seldom leave his mouth, but when conversing with you, the words now flow with ease. “I am sorry, I pushed you away and laid the brunt of my problems on you simultaneously.”

“I won’t hold it against you.” You move to lay your head against his chest. “I’ll allow you the rest of our lives to make it up to me. You swore to stay with me til death, after all.”

“Of course.”

You smile and soon enough you find your eyelids feeling heavy again. You close your eyes, and the sensation of your husband’s hand gliding up and down your back accompanies the calming rhythm of his heartbeat. You know that this life won’t be easy, but something tells you that you will be okay.

That you both will be okay.

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This is the last chapter as far as things go right now. Maybe in the future I'll post some one shots that take place in this fic's universe though. Thanks for sticking around and bearing with me for taking so long with this upload. And of course, thanks for reading 💙

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sp0o0kylights · 11 months

Text

Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running.

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard.

His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it.

That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules.

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it.

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was using Eddie as an excuse.

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor.

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself.

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing.

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp.

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned.

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?"

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled.

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care."

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless.

Steve blinked at him.

"What?" He said.

In for a penny right?

"I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick."

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force.

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately.

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either.

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it.

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife.

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive.

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way."

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”)

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it.

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

#steve harringtons shitty parents #steve harrington #gareth #gareth emerson #my beloved lil side character #steve and gareth as secret cousins #SECRET COUSSSIIINS #steve whump #0o0 fanfics

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itsthewritergal · 4 months

Text

Please can I hold you? - Bucky.Barnes x Reader

Hello my loves,

I'm trying to be better this year at writing.

Summary: Y/N leaves, and Bucky tries his hardest to fix it.

TW: Kissing, trauma, family trauma, shouting, swearing, (let me know if I've missed some)

January 1st, it was supposed to be their year. They had promised each other that this was it, Bucky and Y/N. Bucky had promised no more long missions away from Y/N, Y/N had promised that she would move in with Bucky so they could finally spend more time together. A good year was what they wanted, what they deserved, what they needed. But here they were screaming at each other over Bucky not kissing Y/N at midnight. Y/N had explained to Bucky multiple times that she was at the edge, she couldn’t cope anymore with arguing, and whilst Bucky never admitted it, he hated it just as much, if not more than Y/N. Yet here they were.

“And another thing, I didn’t even want to go to Nat’s stupid New Year’s eve party” Bucky screamed ‘I wanted to be at home with you’ was the bit he failed to include in his insult.

“You told me you wanted to be with people you loved on New Year’s Eve, I thought it would be fun” She shouted back “You think it was fun for me? Because it fucking wasn’t. All I wanted to do was come home, the whole night, but you wanted to keep drinking” She seethed, Bucky wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He didn’t want to drink, but he stupidly got caught up in the party.

“Now you’re going to get at me for drinking? Like you don’t do it every single weekend” He shouted, “Thor never brings that fucking mead, I deserved to have a nice night” He was being mean intentionally, but he couldn’t stop.

“I never said you didn’t Buck” She said her voice suddenly quieter, Bucky should have noticed it was because she was getting upset but he didn’t.

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been working? I just wanted one nice night” Bucky should have stopped himself, he knows he should stop but he couldn’t. He was angry at himself for not putting his foot down and saying he wanted to spend time with just Y/N.

“One nice night?” Y/N parroted “The nights we have aren’t nice? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No! You’re twisting my words” Bucky snapped, he spoke with insecurity but it came across as anger and Y/N didn’t like that

“Because I’m the bad guy right? James Bucky Barnes can’t put a foot wrong, but I can. That’s all I do right?” Y/N said, her fears coming to the surface. The insecurity was all from her messed up childhood, Bucky knew that from their late night chats, when they’d lay next to each other and confess everything, but he didn’t realise that the fear was seeping into their relationship.

“That’s not what this is about” Bucky said realising suddenly how far he had taken the fight, and how distraught Y/N was becoming

“Isn’t it?” Y/N snapped, her eyes locked onto Bucky as a target.

“You’re making this worse than it needs to be” Bucky said, unknowingly adding more fuel to the fire

“Yeah that’s me isn’t it? Making everything worse. Don’t worry Buck, I get it” She snapped turning away from Bucky

“Where the hell are you going?” He called after her

“Downstairs Buck, I need some space away from you right now” She stormed out of their bedroom and down the stairs. Bucky sat down on their bed with his head in his hands, he had just fucked everything up.

Taking a deep breath Bucky decided to set an alarm for 10 minutes, and once it had gone off he would go and speak to Y/N calmly about his feelings. That was how they were going to fix it. He knew he had messed up but he would fix it.

Y/N stood in their hallway, and listened to Bucky close their bedroom door. She knew she had blown things out of proportion, she had made things worse. The little voice in her head told her she had messed things up seriously this time. There was no coming back from this. Bucky hated her, she knew that much. The thought along was enough to almost break her, pulling on her trainers she left the house silently, following the little voice down the streets. She twisted and turned around the streets she used to love walking with Bucky, but now they just felt like they were taunting her as she remembered the kisses they had shared at the bus stop, and the stray cat they had wanted to adopt by the street corner. She couldn’t cope with it, so she began to run.

The wind blew in her ears, the kind of fierce that stopped her from having to think, it was dark and the street lamps did little to ease her discomfort. She was on her way home, in the desperate hope that Bucky was asleep, or at Steve’s or Sam’s. She had no idea of the time, having left her phone at home in Bucky’s jacket pocket most likely, but she sent a silent prayer to the sky that it was late enough that Bucky wouldn’t still be around. She couldn’t face him, not after everything she had done. Her mother was right, she wasn’t made for relationships, she would always mess them up, and now she had screwed up the only good thing she had going for her. This was it. She was done. Y/N didn’t notice the way her hands shivered a little with the cold biting wind, with her furious mood and growing insecurity she had forgotten a coat. As she turned onto her and Bucky’s street the tears started again, this really was the end. Her and Bucky were about to be done, finished, ended.

So much for their year. She mused to herself silently, revelling in the cruel twist of fate, her mother was right.

Pushing the handle of the door down quietly, in the hope to not wake Bucky if he was in, Y/N creaked the door open. She took a shaky step into the house, listening out for Bucky. When she was satisfied that there was no sound of him she closed the door behind her and took off her shoes.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s shaky voice called out, she froze. “Baby?” He said coming into the hall, Y/N put her hand back on the door handle, she was ready to run again, this was not a conversation she was ready to have.

“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again” He said wrapping his arms around her tensed body, Y/N kept herself tensed, she was ready to run if she needed.

“I know you’re scared, I know you think you’ve messed this all up but I swear to you this whole argument is on me” he said refusing to let her out of his embrace,

“Bucky stop” she said quietly

“I’m sorry” He said dropping his arms, she looked up at him with red eyes “Could you come and sit down in the lounge for me?” He asked

“I should go”

“No” Bucky said “You’re going to come and sit down and we are going to talk about this, because we are bigger than your insecurities and we are going to fix this” he said,

“Oh,” Y/N said “oh” She repeated once the words had settled into her head “You aren’t breaking up with me?”

“Come on doll, come sit down for me?” He said

“Ok” She said, following Bucky through their house.

Y/N settled herself into an armchair, where she could curl her legs up underneath herself. Bucky opted for the sofa opposite her, picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to touch him just yet.

“Before we start, the next time you need to get away you tell me where you’re going. I was terrified doll, I know the kind of people that are out there and if you need space, please let me come with you. I promise I won’t walk beside you or speak to you but I need to know you are safe.” Bucky said “Please?”

“I’m sorry Buck” She said,

“No apologies. We have to make mistakes to fix them for the future yeah?” He said

“I don think I can do this Bucky. All your friends hate me, I invited you to a party you didn’t want to be at, I asked you to cut down your missions. Everything I do, makes me the issue in this relationship” She said,

“That’s not true, everyone loves you—”

“No they don’t, they put up with me”

“No, no, Y/N. Please don’t do this. I know you’re spiralling, I know that you’ve always been made to believe that its your fault. But I swear to you this one is on me. I wanted to spend New Years Eve with just you. I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I fucked up. I got drunk and neglected you. You should have been my priority at midnight, not that stupid drink”

“I should’ve let you have fun” Y/N said

“No, I should have kissed you” Bucky said, his tone was final and Y/N didn’t want to argue anymore.

“I didn’t deserve it”

“You don’t have to earn love” Bucky said, moving to the carpeted space in front of Y/N’s armchair, taking Y/N’s hands in his he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles “I love you, I want to spend my life with you and I will spend every single moment apologising to you for the way I acted”

“I’m sorry for saying all those mean things Buck” Y/N said “I didn’t mean them I just wanted to make myself the bad person so you could hate me. I wanted you to hate me”

“Why did you want that?” Bucky asked after pressing another kiss to her hand

“So you’d end things, so my fears could come true. It’s sadistic, but I guess I’m always just waiting for the end so I just wanted it to happen. Like ripping a bandage off”

“Oh Y/N” Bucky said gently “You never have to be scared of me leaving. We will always work through our issues, you’re my life. You’re my world, this is it for me.”

“So you’re not waiting for me to fuck up so you can leave?”

“No, I’m not” Bucky said

“I’m sorry” she whispered

“No more apologies” Bucky whispered “Please let me hold you baby? We can talk more in the morning I promise. But right now I just need to hold you”

“You never need to ask”

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #itsthewritergal #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky x you

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jojikawa · 5 months

Text

Ice Cream & Kisses 🍨

Sukuna makes Yuuji agree to terms that involve visiting you more regularly.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.

masterlist

Full Image + Artist: bikku__2

Yuuji found himself pretty exhausted from his excessive training at school, so when he finally got back to his dorm, he was just grateful to be in bed again. This is how things went for a while until he had taken Sukuna to meet you again for the first time. Now, he bothered Yuuji every night. The helpless boy was caught in the middle of a love that lasted thousands of years. The King of Curses thoughts of you bled into his own. It made Yuuji curious about what your relationship with Sukuna was like. On the surface, you seemed kind and gentle. Your voice was soft-spoken and you were utterly gorgeous as your beauty was unaffected by age.

Although, your sheep’s clothing didn’t change the wolf that was inside. You were the Goddess of Demons. The first woman, condemned by God themself and turned into the first woman-shaped demon. If Sukuna is supposed to be this terrifying threat, he couldn’t imagine what sort of threat you’d be. To be honest, he was just grateful that you are as docile as you come off to be. For now, at least.

So, when Ryomen Sukuna approached Yuuji with an offer, he wasn’t too on the fence about the whole thing.

“New rules, kid. Trust me, you’re gonna like them too.”

A mouth on the side of Yuuji’s face formed to utter these words. With his eyebrows knitted together, he replied “Whenever I agree to something with you, it never goes well. I don’t believe you when you say I’ll ‘like’ them either!” Then he proceeded to fold his pillow over to suffocate Sukuna’s mouth so that he could rest.

“Don’t you wanna lay your head down somewhere other than this shitty bed?!”

Suddenly, Yuuji became a bit self-conscious of the bed he had been lying in. The school beds were fine…right? However, he noticed how his back would hurt sometimes. Sukuna spoke his new terms to which Yuuji reluctantly agreed.

“You listen to me and you listen closely. After school, you go find her. I won’t ask again. Understood?”

It was the evening. You had spent nearly all day at the local elementary school before you walked the children to their routes as usual before going to your spacious apartment. The weather was distrustful. It was spring so it would rain, but some days it would be dry and others you’d even still feel the bitter cold of winter nipping at your cheeks and making them sore.

After your talk with Sukuna again, you expected him to take what you said seriously. You didn’t know how the two of you could be together with Yuuji always around. It was awkward. So, you wanted him to figure out his situation first. You dangled the possibility over his head the way you would a biscuit for a dog.

knock! knock! knock!

You had just sat down on your couch, hot cocoa in hand when you heard a series of knocks at your door. You hoped that it wasn’t your disturbing neighbor. Anything but her. Instead of setting your mug down, you took it with you to the door.

Upon opening it, you saw that it was—

“You found me again.” You smugly sipped your drink as you laid eyes upon Yuuji. A blush of embarrassment covered his face. “He made me come.” He couldn’t help but shut his eyes when he caught the sight of what you chose to wear. There was nothing sexual about it at all—really. It’s just that Sukuna’s filthy thoughts shouted over Yuuji’s innocent ones. Internally, he ushered the boy to open his eyes so that the King of Curses could see you in all of your glory.

“You can come in, I suppose.” You stepped aside, allowing the boy to come in. Getting inside, he took in the familiar warmth of the living space. It was cozy and suited for one person. Carpeted rugs, couches with fuzzy pillows, feminine-scented items, and lastly…demons?

“What is that!?” Yuuji yelled, pointing in disbelief at the small imp that was stalking him in the doorway of your kitchen. It was a small, ugly thing…looking like some sort of deformed animal. In its clawed hand was a can of febreeze that it dropped and ran away out of fear of the human, Yuuji.

“It’s getting away!” The boy added, causing you to laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. That's one of my little helpers. His name is Gnaar.”

“You just have those things running around? Isn’t that dangerous?” Yuuji frowned. You figured that he wasn’t able to differentiate curses and demons.

“No,” Your eyes rolled to the left, sipping more of your drink. “They’re harmless.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t come all this way for nothing. Feel free to have a seat.”

Yuuji then saw you sit your cup down and disappear into the kitchen. For a few moments, he sat in silence—or what seemed like it.

“You brat! Let me talk to her!”

Tired of his yelling, Yuuji gave control to Sukuna, trusting that you’d make him behave or else the student would suffer consequences from his teachers and probably all of Jujustu Society.

The King of Curses was able to take in his environment without being a passenger within the vessel. The way the room smelled was familiar and it reminded him so much of you. His eyes darted to the nearby mug you had been drinking from. Lazily picking it up, he sniffed it. It was chocolatey…then he proceeded to down the remaining contents before licking his lips. That was when you emerged from the next room. You had witnessed him setting the mug back down. Naturally, your eyebrows knitted together. Sukuna helping himself to your stuff was nothing new.

“Oh, Ryo. I was just making you a cup!” You scold him like an upset mother. Sukuna turned his head towards you, his mouth curling into a grin. He loved being annoying. To you—most of all. “What’s yours is mine.” He noticed that you were holding a tray. It had a fresh cup of hot cocoa and a bowl of…ice cream. In a moment, you were back on the couch next to him. It was nice to see you like this finally. You wore a sleeved white shirt that was appropriate for the weather, but it was low cut, showing off your cleavage. The shirt was cropped where it showed off your belly. As for your bottoms, you were wearing thick leggings that were tight enough to show your shapely body.

“Excuse me.” You handed him his mug of cocoa which he took. He had the entire thing in one gulp with no caution to the temperature. “Ah…HEY, GNAAR GET IN HERE!”

Gnaar came running in, tripping over his own hooves to heed Sukuna’s request.

“Don’t yell at him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obedience. It was only slightly but you had become giddy with excitement. Gnaar took the empty dishes to the kitchen. “God, I missed that little freak.” He watched the imp stumble into the next room. “He certainly hasn’t missed you.” You replied as you reached for the ice cream. It was Neapolitan.

“I have something I want to share with you.” Instinctively, you scooted over towards Sukuna. On the inside, Yuuji felt his heart skip a beat when your thigh touched Sukuna’s. It was hard for him to believe that Sukuna could have his heart rate quicken at your actions.

“It doesn’t look like anything.” He faked a bored tone so that you’d continue. “It’s ice cream. Surely you’ve had it since this vessel has found you?”

His nose scrunched up. “No.” He replied flatly. Or maybe, he didn’t remember having it? He didn’t pay attention to the things Yuuji consumed so this would probably be his first time having modern ice cream.

“Then try some, Darling.”

Sukuna hadn’t even noticed how close you were to him now. He wasn’t used to the two of you being at eye level. The time you spent together was mostly you trying to navigate his large body. He missed the days when you’d climb onto his lap and he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. But he liked this too. This was—normal.

Sukuna let you feed him the ice cream. It was only a spoonful but he already knew he liked it. It was cold but sweet. It sent a pleasant tingle to his cheeks that made him want to smile. He resisted this feeling, but couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You patiently waited for his subtle expressions. You weren’t able to tell if he liked it or not.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

You placed a hand on your cheek. “Aw, so Ryo does like ice cream. But you have to eat it slowly.” You gave Ryo another spoonful. He grew impatient, demanding he feed himself. Of course, he gave himself a brain freeze doing so.

“I tried to warn you.” You watched as Sukuna held his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He muttered curses under his breath as he felt no relief and couldn’t bring himself to do anything else about it.

The bowl of ice cream was gone and simply a dish waiting to be taken away by Gnaar. Although, you grew concerned when it seemed like he wasn’t recovering from it. “Ryo~” Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled his body towards you. Sukuna felt your lips press upon his temple and his cold headache magically disappeared.

“Do that again.”

On instinct, you rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

You placed a kiss on his temple again. Another on his cheek and then on his jaw. He reveled in your kisses. They felt like heaven; a reward for simply existing because existing is exhausting.

He almost wanted to return the favor. You see, Ryomen Sukuna isn’t exactly the best at reciprocating any love that wasn’t a display of power. He was the best at killing things, pleasing during sex, and scaring any man who dares to breathe in your direction…but kissing, cuddling, holding…that was your thing. Ryo hasn’t even said those sacred three words. He hoped that you could feel how pure his love is for you or at least, him killing your evil ex-husband aided in conveying his feelings. He genuinely believed he didn’t deserve you but he was too selfish to ever part from you.

Ryomen Sukuna wanted you all to himself.

“There. You should feel better now.” Your lips curved into a smile that brought him peace. The same thing kept running through his head. Things are “normal” now. Sukuna despised being inside the body of a punk like Yuuji but it surely had its perks.

“Can I kiss you?”

Normally, he wouldn’t need to ask but you were confused. Your lover looked as if he were in a daze. Your watchful eyes could see every micro-expression on his face but he still managed to make things hard to understand since he was always sure of himself. You expected more of a Kiss me or a very commanding I deserve my reward for being your husband but you entertained him nonetheless. Is he asking for permission? You just had to tease him.

“Just a kiss? Knowing you, you’d probably want to take it a step further but I don’t know…you’re not exactly my type anymore.” You stifled a laugh by placing your fingertips over your mouth. There it was again. A reminder that he wasn’t in his own body or at his pull strength. But it was fine. He enjoyed it.

He liked to know you preferred his true form when he thought about it. Sukuna felt so ugly in the Heian Era. Before you, the only things to satisfy him were wailing concubines and prostitutes who didn't enjoy his presence because of his huge body, four arms, and two mouths.

“What does it matter?!” He spat, behaving like a total tsundere at times. “That’s what you want anyway right?!” Oh, how he longed to be inside of you again.

“Hm..” Your eyes rolled to the left as you pretended to think. “I’m not sure. Two fewer arms wouldn’t be as fun in bed.”

“I can still please you.” He quipped.

“I guess you’ll have to prove it to me…but not—“

You were silenced by Sukuna’s lips being pressed to yours. It wasn't his usual hungry kiss where it felt like he was trying to devour your face. It was sweet—no, innocent…desperate, like if he stopped, you’d disappear like a moment in time. Your belly filled with butterflies, making you put your hands on his chest to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

It wasn’t until Sukuna finally pulled away that you got a breath of air. Even he was slightly panting at his actions. You’ve never experienced such raw emotions from him…you kinda liked it.

“Why even ask if you’re just gonna do it huh, Ryo?” You smirked, making him even more flushed than he already was. “Shut up.” He grumbled before running a hand through his hair. What did you expect? The two of you have been sitting here this long. How long is he supposed to go without it?

On the inside, Yuuji expected you to scold Sukuna but he saw you smile instead. You didn’t seem to take offense to the King of Curses telling you to shut up.

“I actually like it when you make the first move like that.” You scooted even closer and leaned your body against his. Whether you knew it or not, your chest was pressing up against his arm. “Do it again~!”

You were literally peak woman.

So, of course, he gave into your temptation. He couldn’t resist your plush lips. Especially after getting a taste just now. It was an open mouth kiss. He practically shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could taste the lingering ice cream on his lips and tongue.

Briefly, he would pull away just to nuzzle into your neck and take in your perfume. He was being romantic and he didn’t even realize it. It made you feel so wanted. Neither of you was able to fight the bottled-up feelings you had for each other.

Hi! hope you liked this part. I’m already working on the next part. I’ll be working in more Lilith themes to help expand on your relationship with Sukuna and also an explanation for “Adam” in future parts :3

#ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons #Sukuna x demon reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff

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