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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

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Title: Bared Fangs.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Modern/Serial Killer AU, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Blood/Gore, Reader Gets Hurt, Obsessive Behavior, Gun Violence, and Unhealthy Relationships. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Childe asked you if you wanted to go outside.

Honestly, you should’ve known something was wrong as soon as he found you reading in front of his fireplace, as soon as that crooked, schoolboy grin found its way to his lips and he forewent his usual routine of draping himself on top of you like some muscled, zealously homicidal weighted blanket in favor of ruffling your hair and toying with the collar of the flannel you were wearing (his flannel, technically, but you tried not to let yourself acknowledge how accustomed you’d grown to wearing your captor’s clothes or, more troublingly, how long it’d been since the last time you’d felt disgusted by it). “Snow should be done for a couple hours,” he started, nodding towards the frost-coated windows. It might’ve been a more charming sight if not for the scratches carved into the surface of the glass – souvenirs from there the first time you got your hands on one of his axes. “I’m thinking of stepping out, doing a little hunting before the storm kicks up again. Wanna come with me?”

You narrowed your eyes at your book, trying to hide the way your heart beat a little faster at the suggestion of being able to leave his claustrophobic cabin. But, with Childe, you were usually better off staying safely tucked behind the bars of your rustic cage. “Is this going to be a normal hunting trip or a you hunting trip?”

He only hummed. “’fraid I don’t know what you mean by that, princess.”

“Are we going to be hunting animals, or…” You trailed off, swallowing down the bitter taste that came with remembering why you were here. “… or, you know. People, or whatever.”

“This time of year?” He let out an airy laugh, like you’d asked to go skiing in the middle of summer. “There’s nobody on the mountain ’cept me and you.”

Still, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to try and think beyond your near-overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here. Childe was a murderer, a sadist, a kidnapper, but he wasn’t the type to play mind games. He tended to divide his reality between the world outside – where people could be hunted like quarry, their bodies left to rot in tents and rivers with only the occasional token taken as a keepsake – and the world inside the walls of his cabin – where he sat you down in front of a low-burning fire and told you stories about ice-fishing with his siblings and pouted when you admit his (admittedly, not entirely inedible) cooking could use a little more seasoning. After that first night – the worst night of your fucking life – he seemed to want to keep you resigned to the latter, at least until he came home covered in blood and desperate for something warm and familiar to fuck until he passed out.

Eventually, you sighed, closing your book and sitting up. “Fine. When do we leave?”

His grin widened, head lulling forward as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. “The front door’s already unlocked. I’ll give you a head start, a full five minutes. Actually, make it ten – just to make it a little more fun for you.”

There was a beat of silence, then another. “Childe, you’re making it sound like you’re—”

“Like I said, there’s nobody on the mountain but me and you.” He pulled away, turning on his heel. “I’ll be nice, too – won’t use anything with more than a twenty-foot range.”

“But, you— you can’t just—”

“Tick-tock.” He clicked his tongue, winking at you over his shoulder. “Unless you’d rather cut straight to the good part.”

You should’ve known something was wrong, and now, running through the frozen wilderness desperately lost and barely dressed, your ten minutes spent and a killer undoubtedly chasing you down, you were paying the price for it.

You didn’t have time to be tactical. The snow was fresh enough to make every interruption unbearable obvious, meaning that – even if you were willing to stop and spare the seconds it’d take to hide your tracks, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Your only option was to run, but even that was easier said than done. Childe preferred to keep you in a state of hand-crafted domestic bliss, meaning what few clothes you did have were either picked out by or borrowed from him. Currently, all that separated you from the cold was his flannel, an oversized shirt, and a pair of his boots that you’d snagged on your way out. The chill snapped at your cold legs like the teeth of some unseen predator, the frigid air burning holes in your lungs, but the thought of what Childe would do when he caught you was enough to keep your feet moving, to keep you sprinting blindly through the forest. He wouldn’t kill you. You had to believe that he wouldn’t kill you, but—

A high-pitched holler, the sound of branches snapping underfoot and foliage being pushed aside somewhere behind you. You hadn’t stopped running after your first trembling steps away from the cabin, and yet, he couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind you – half a mile, at your most generous guess. You started to curse under your breath, then thought better of it, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to draw blood and pivoting to the left, where the forest seemed to be just a little thicker. If you couldn’t get away from him, you could at least try to hide before he got to you.

It was a haphazard, half-baked plan that was cruelly and immediately cut short as your foot caught on a root hidden by the snow, tearing away your right boot and leaving you sprawled over the frozen ground. Dampness sunk into your thin clothes, and you shut your eyes, trying to listen for Childe’s footsteps, but there was a reason none of his victims ever seemed to hear him coming. The forest’s minimal white noise was enough to swallow him entirely, the sound of birdsong and distant car engines disguising his presence despite your best attempts to—

Your realization was delayed, but intense.

Cars.

Cars meant roads. Cars meant civilization. Cars meant people, people who could take you away from here, away from Childe. You clambered to your feet, but failed to take so much as a step before a sudden, stabbing pain bit into your calf, your leg immediately buckling underneath you. You would’ve fallen entirely if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline running through your system, numbing the agony and choking the ragged scream that threatened to rise from the pit of your chest into a cracked whimper. It was one of Childe’s arrows – you would’ve been able to recognize that black steel from a mile away – but you didn’t let yourself linger on the implications. With grit teeth and balled fists, you limped forward, leaving a thin trail of crimson in your wake. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking, but it was there – a thin, wobbling, unpaved dirt road, only marked by two thin rows of tire tracks that sliced harshly through the otherwise unmarred blanket of snow. God, you never thought you’d be so happy to see dirt.

There wasn’t time to think. You stumbled out of the woods and into the road, the arrow’s head sinking that much deeper with every stuttering movement. The car you’d heard was still there, too; a by-the-numbers sedan, only a few hundred feet down the road. You threw up your arms up, then thought better of it; cupping your shaking hands around your mouth. You moved to call out, but whatever you might’ve said was stolen away from you as something dark flashed across your peripheral and another arrow planted itself in your right shoulder. This time, you crumbled like a dead leaf – broken into pieces by a morning gale.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Childe emerge from the tree line, his crossbow still in-hand. As he came to stand in front of you, your gaze shifted back to the car. You watched, your mind buzzing with pain, as it disappeared around a sharp bend, never so much as slowing down.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you heard Childe coo, wiping away the tears flowing down your cheeks before they could freeze against your skin. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, his voice low with a painful edge. “I guess I cheated, huh? Couldn’t help it – just knew you’d look so cute all bruised up and bleeding.”

Dropping his crossbow carelessly, he fell to your height. He was dressed for one of his usual hunts; a cut-off shotgun slung over his back, a hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The leather casing of the latter pressed into your side as he dipped lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pressing a long, open-mouthed kiss into the base of your throat. You felt his knee settle between your thighs, and weakly, your hands found their way to his chest. “Not here,” you mumbled, more afraid of the chill quickly seeping under your skin than being seen. “It hurts, Childe. I—I think you hit something imp—”

“I’ll be fast.” Another kiss, this one to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His calloused hands skirted over your sides, then your waist, hiking the thin fabric of your oversized shirt up to your midriff. You were already past the point of total numbness, and yet, the rough gravel beneath the snow cut harshly into your exposed skin. Rather than distracting you from the pain in your calf, your shoulder, it only seemed to draw more attention to your bleeding wounds, only seemed to make it harder to ignore the dull heat of Childe’s mouth against your chest. “Gotta take you out more often. You’re always beautiful, but I didn’t know you’d look this pretty.”

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His arrow burnt into the tattered skin of your calf as his hands fell to your legs, groping at the plush of your thighs playfully before shifting his attention to the fly of his jeans. You knew what he wanted, he’d always been transparent, but the sound of shifting fabric, the sight of his rosy-tipped, stiff cock pressing flush against his stomach – that was enough for the loose coil of dread writhing in the pit of your chest to tighten into a tight, jagged knot of pure terror. You tried to sit up, to make your refusal that much more apparent, but Childe only caught you by your uninjured shoulder, shoving you into the ground with enough force to earn a pained scowl, a fractured whimper. His only response was a wordless, vaguely sympathetic noise, a softened lull to his wide smile. “No skipping out on this, babydoll. I can’t guarantee you’ll end up in one piece if I have to wait ‘till we get home.”

It was a fair warning, but anything he could have said would’ve been lost on you. Your heart was beating in your ears, blocking out any other sound. Pools of red blood and piles of limp bodies flashed across your vision and desperately, futilely, you clawed at the hand on your shoulder, kicked at his chest, thrashed underneath him like an animal unaware that resistance would only make the predator want to drive its teeth that much deeper. It was more Childe’s divided attention than your strength, but your heel found his side and, just for a moment, he slipped, letting out a soft grunt as the hand pinning you down fell away. You were scrambling onto your knees in a second, attempting to get your feet underneath you in another, but your little stunt was cut short as Childe lashed out, wrapping his arm around your neck and forcing your stomach against the ground. There was no whimpering, anymore – just a ragged, ear-piercing scream as his free hand found the arrow in your shoulder, tearing it out of you in one clean, unfaltering motion. His only response came in the form of a throaty moan; deep and terrible and followed immediately by the feeling of his cock against your dry cunt. You would’ve begged him to stop, offered to let him do anything he wanted to you if he just didn’t do this, but he didn’t give you time to bargain. Without hesitation, he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.

Trembling sobs tore at your throat and past your lips, tears now flowing unabashedly down your cheeks. Childe kept his full weight against your back as he fucked into you with short, sharp thrusts – never happy unless he was burying himself in the deepest pocket of your poor, freezing pussy. Rather than desensitizing you, letting you fall back into some distant state of nonexistence, the snow seemed to burn where it was pressed into your cheek, your chest. You wished he would’ve taken off the rest of your clothes. You wished he would’ve just shot his stupid arrows into your skull and put you out of your misery.

It shouldn’t have felt good, you didn’t want it to feel good, but your body didn’t know that. Your cunt clenched and drooled around him, trying in vain to turn his assault into something you could enjoy, but the way he grunted into your ear snuffed out any pleasure you might’ve been able to feel. “Tryin’ to pull me back in,” he muttered, his voice already airy, already strung out. You couldn’t help but wonder if, had you only been able to run from him for another minute, he would’ve found something else to shove his dick into and left you out here to freeze to death. “Is that your goal? Wanna – Fuck, wanna help me warm you up?”

His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass flush against his hips and letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much more brutally. Your injured leg grated against the dirt of the road and you cried out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. “St— Hurts, stop, stop, please, stop—”

“That’s it, always making such pretty sounds for me.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. “Sometimes, it feels like all I wanna do it cut you open and crawl—”

He was interrupted by the dull roar of an approaching engine and something brightened inside of you, your eyes shifting towards the road, towards the well-beaten pick-up truck speeding in your direction. The breaks screeched as you and Childe came into the driver’s view, and for a second, you let yourself go slack underneath him, relief overwhelming your better judgement.

Childe wasn’t so sentimental.

His shotgun was in his hand before you could so much as process that he’d moved. Wordlessly, he fired off two shots; the first to the windshield on the driver’s side and the second to one of the front tires. You watched on helplessly as your last hope for salvation bucked, swerved, then veered off of the road entirely, catching on a snowbank and turning over once before crashing into the trunk of an oak that failed to so much as shake under the force of the collision. It was quieter than you’d expected it to be, the only sounds that of shattering glass and crunching metal. If there were survivors, no one screamed, or called for help, or came stumbling out of the wreckage. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat, his pace growing that much more erratic as he buckled into you – his pointed canines finding the tender junction at the base of your throat and burying themselves in your skin. It was less a love-bite and more an effort to eat you alive. What little blood he didn’t lap up washed over your chest, melting the frost and mixing into the snow beneath you. “Look—” He groaned, tried and failed to pull away from you. His voice reverberated against the curve of your neck as he went on. “Look what you turn me into, princess. Got me making all kinds of messes for you.”

Blood. Bodies. The taste of his cum on your tongue as your friends bled out under the same roof. You would’ve choked the air in your lungs if you’d been able to breathe, but there was no point lingering on pleasant hypotheticals. There were no distractions from the feeling of Childe’s hips grating against yours, the way his cock twitched as settled against you. A guttural moan tore past his lips as something thick and searing flooded into you, and you refused to let yourself acknowledge that this was the warmest you’d felt in days.

You stayed there, limp and frozen and miserable, as Childe pulled away from you, pulled out of you. Your eyes fell shut as he stumbled to his feet, your skin too numb to feel anything aside from the pressure of his arms around your motionless body. He pulled you against his chest, then let out a low whistle. “Might’ve gone a little overboard there. Sorry ‘bout that, princess.” A low chuckle, a gentle squeeze. “I just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. You’ll forgive me after a warm bath, right?”

You didn’t answer. The arrow in your calf must’ve fallen out, or maybe not – you couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your hands felt like dead weight too, utterly disconnected from anything you might’ve used to control them, but every drop of panic, every ounce of horror – that all paled in comparison to the never-ending pit of pitch-black loathing that formed in your chest as you stared up at Childe. You hated him, wanted to see him torn apart with his own stockpile of weapons, but you really couldn’t blame him. Not for this, at least.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as the monster bared its fangs.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #childe x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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cxce15 · 3 months

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#house of the dragon #cregan stark #tom taylor #a song of ice and fire #cxce15 #fanfiction #cregan stark x reader

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fourmoony · 5 months

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heyyy read you're looking for requests so here's one! james coming from hockey practice (i love hockey player james) and you tell him that a guy from uni has been hitting on you and stuf. he doesn't get mad just queasy, but then he needs reassurance too!

thanks for requesting, angel!

cw: insecurities, language, unwanted advances

1.4k, modern au, ice hockey James

The tell-tale sound of James' bag being abandoned haphazardly by the door alerts you to his presence. The door clicks shut soon after, followed by a heavy sigh. He's likely exhausted - always is after practice, especially if he and Sirius get caught mouthing off and are punished with bag skating.

James rounds the corner into the living room at the same time you pause your show and sit up to greet him. He doesn't acknowledge your abandoned plate from dinner or the pile of unfolded washing on the arm chair to his left. Instead, he gives you a tired smile and collapses into a heap beside you on the sofa. "Hi, bug." He mumbles, chin tucked into the neckline of his hoodie. Exhaustion seeps from his voice.

"Hi, handsome." You soothe, hand reaching out to toy with the curls at the nape of your boyfriend's neck. They're still damp from his post-practice shower, the smell of his body wash sweet and heady in your nose. "How was practice?"

He lets out a long suffering sigh, leans into your touch, "Stressful. The team isn't where we need to be for the playoffs. Coach made sure to let us know how angry he is about it."

You hum softly, scoot closer to James on the sofa until you're practically in his lap. James likes touch, he likes the connection, the intimacy, the weight of your body on top of his. You're happy to indulge him, the flowers that your boyfriend brings about your rib cage blossoming as his arm wraps around your middle, hoists you fully onto his lap. "What does he expect, you know? Half of his team graduated out, last year. He only has a couple of you guys left and the rest are freshmen." You try to justify James, but it seems the reminder only further sours his mood.

"Yeah, try telling him that. He thinks everyone is just born to be in the NHL, that these guys should already be up to standard, that they don't need the same exact training and coaching that we got." James' voice is thick with coiling tension, even if his muscles seem to be relaxing under you.

You smooth the baby hairs under your fingers, tilting your head until his eyes meet yours, "You're their captain, baby," You smile, "I bet they'd listen to it a lot better coming from you. They like you, look up to you. You be their coach if coach isn't going to step up."

Your boyfriend smiles, the sun peeking through storm clouds. A glimpse of your Jamie. He leans forwards, lips soft and gentle as he presses them to yours. He hums into the kiss, hands squeezing your hips. "Thanks."

"Anytime, handsome."

"How was your day?" James asks, feet stretching out to sit atop the coffee table.

You'd scold him if you weren't so busy quelling the beating of your heart. Any kiss from James sends you reeling, has done since the first time in freshman year. You don't think you'll ever get over the fact that he's your boyfriend. That he loves you as you love him, that you'll grow old and grey together. It never quite feels real.

"Good. Productive. We have a project due for McGonagall's class on Wednesday so I just worked on that most of the day." You don't feel the need to mention that you pointedly worked alone on your half of the project, but James frowns at your words and you know he's going to ask.

"You worked alone?"

"Yeah." You should probably say more, but James has a shorter fuse than Sirius does in general when it comes to you and you don't feel like unleashing all two hundred pounds of ice-hockey muscle onto the arrogant asshole who won't leave you alone.

James' thumb rubs steady circles into the fat of your thigh, his brows hooked upward in the middle a blatant sign of his confusion, "Your group have left you to do all the work?"

"No," You shake your head, "It was just easier to do my part on my own."

James doesn't say anything, but it's clear that he's waiting for you to go on. You sigh through your nose, head falling to rest on your boyfriend's shoulder, "One of the guys in my group has been hitting on me pretty regularly."

"What?" James asks around a swallow, voice hoarse. His muscles tense under you, his thumb pausing it's soothing measures on your thigh.

You shrug, "He keeps saying how he'd treat me right, how a 'pretty girl like me' deserves better. It's all bullshit, so I chose to work myself and just send the rest of the group my sections."

"Right."

It's odd, the way your body reacts to a single word as though it were a slap in the face. Your stomach sinks because you realise James isn't angry. He isn't itching to pound the guy's face into the ground and he isn't insisting you allow him to fix the problem, himself. You remove your head from James' shoulder, find him pale faced and distant. He looks lost, nauseous. "Jamie?"

James shrugs, eyes cold, "What?"

"'Right.'? That's all you have to say to that? What's wrong?" You ask, drawing further away the colder the look in James' eyes gets.

"What would you like me to say? That he might be right?" There's a clipped edge to your boyfriend's voice that you've never heard before, that jolts your body into fight or flight mode quicker than you'd care to admit.

You remove yourself from James' lap, confusion evident on your face as you settle to face him on the coffee table. His feet meet the ground with a thud as he moves to stand. Your hand flies out, a firm grip on his knee that begs him not to move. James gives you a sad look as he complies, fidgets with the draw strings on his jogging bottoms. "You think he has a point?" You ask.

James nods, lips pursed, eyes avoiding yours so evidently it angers you.

"Why?"

Your boyfriend shrugs again, tips his head back and lets out a groan, "You know at the end of this year I'm going to be drafted, right? I'm going to have to move across the country, probably, I won't have a choice in the matter and neither will you."

"We've had this argument before, James. I'm going wherever you go. I don't care where it is! It could be fucking Antartica and I'd still go." Your voice sounds less stern than you'd intended, but James softens slightly at your words.

"But you shouldn't have to just pick up your life and move because of me. You deserve someone who can give you stability and all of their time. I can't." James leans forwards until his elbows are resting on his knees, his face so close to yours you can feel his breaths.

It's an age-old argument, one you and James used to have often in the beginning. Before you knew that you wanted James in your life forever, back when he was trying to push you away with everything he had because he didn't want to risk falling in love with you and having to leave you, one day. The argument lessened the longer you were together, decisions made. You'd made up your mind the day James told you he loved you that you'd follow him anywhere, that you'd give up anything and everything to just be with him.

"I don't want anyone else. I don't care where we are in this world, James. I want you. That's all." You reach for him, thumbs swiping under his eyes in steady motions.

He takes a breath, closes his eyes under your touch. "I can't help but feel I'm asking you to sacrifice more than I'm worth."

And that just won't do. You clamber back onto his lap, legs on either side of his hips and chase his eyes. They're dark in the dim light of the living room, a deep brown filled with fear. "You're worth everything, Jamie. Everything." You tell him. And you mean it.

James swallows, nods. His arms wrap around you, pull you to him until he's falling back into the softness of the couch. "I love you." He tells you, vulnerable as you've ever heard him.

Flowers bloom all along the crevices of your rib cage, pull taught until you're so overflowing with love and happiness that all you can think to do is kiss him. He chases your lips when you pull back, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. "I love you too, Jamie."

"So you're not gonna leave me for that guy in your Psych class?" He asks, a twinkle in his eye that lets you know he's kidding.

You laugh, loud and obnoxious and your boyfriend swallows it with a world-ending kiss.

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crystalflygeo · 8 months

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The right moment ft Zhongli + fem!reader (modern!AU)

cw/tags: Discussions about first time/loss of virginity. Mentions oral/fingering/handjobs. A bit of pain. This is mostly just comfort tbh.

notes: REMEMBER EVERYONE!! It's okay to change your mind, it's okay to take your time and it's okay to say NO when it comes to sex, for any reason at any time, all of that is valid, and if your partner doesn't respect that or otherwise makes you feel bad for it drop them. (Ty @ainescribe and @silentmoths for beta'ing hehe. Also Happy year of the dragon btw!)

You were trembling in his arms. Zhongli embraced you, holding your body against his chest, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders making you shiver on top of the sheets.

This was it, this was the moment.

You two had fumbled around enough, getting used to his touch, his kisses, his love. And a little burning flame had been born from that along with the flutter in your lovestruck heart. Zhongli was perfect: gentle, patient, smart, kind, handsome…

And you love him.

And you want him.

Which is why one day you gathered up courage, you picked a day where you were not at risk (according to your calendar at least?) made sure you had some ‘protection’ stashed away at your bedside table and said…

“Li, I’m ready.”

“Hm?” He turned to you from his spot on the couch and blinked.

You laced your hands nervously. “I… want to have sex with you. I’m ready.” You blurted out, blushing.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, though he didn’t immediately say anything. “Are you sure, dear? What brought this on so suddenly?” He asked after a few moments.

“Quite sure.” You nodded, a little more confident, armed with your courage, your little preparations, and of course… excitement. “I just… think it’s time. I want to.”

It was… a little difficult not to be on edge as the moment approached.

Your first time. You’d gladly give it to Zhongli.

It’s not like you were completely new to sex, per se. Truth be told Zhongli had already been your ‘first’ on quite a few things. Your sexual experiences had gone from a bit of heavy petting over the clothes during make out sessions to him eating you out until you’re a whimpering mess or you giving him a few rare handjobs. You just had never… gone all the way.

Technically still a virgin.

But that was changing tonight. You were determined.

Zhongli was soft and reverent, an absolute gentleman as he lowered you on the bed, effortlessly sensual as his hands roamed your body like many other times before. Treating you with utmost gentleness, as if you were a bunny ready to sprint away at the first wrong move. He teased your chest and thighs, nipped softly at your skin and you answered with passionate kisses and heated touches, pulling him closer, letting out pleased hums. He made you come on those skilled fingers and tongue and your body melted, relaxing for him.

And now’s the time…

“You are so beautiful… I love you.” He murmurs the words, warm against your collarbone and you sigh, still panting a bit and recovering from your orgasm.

“Love you too, Li…”

You cup his face and pull him up to kiss his lips again, his strong arms leaning on either side of you. Like this, he’s hovering over you, his larger frame caging you radiating warmth and lust.

You feel his cock press against your hip and almost jolt. You don’t know why but suddenly you refuse to stare at it since, very soon, it was going to be inside you. It was a weird rush of worry, nervousness and giddy arousal.

You know for a fact he’s… big. You remember well the feeling of him on your hand, large and thick, and suddenly you begin to doubt whether or not you would be able to get that thing inside of you.

But you are determined.

He puts on a condom and squeezes some lube into his hand, spreading it evenly on his hard erection, your breath hitches.

He parts your legs and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if he could sense it too. Your face is flushed, your thoughts and senses are a flurry of emotions.

“Are you ready? Relax…” He caresses your thigh.

You feel the tip of his cock poking at your entrance as he slowly guides himself and suddenly there is this weird uncomfortable pressure as he pushes inside. You gasp.

“Ah-!” You yelp in pain and whimper. It was… so big.

Zhongli groans. “Darling, relax… you’re so tight.” His brow furrows slightly in concentration as your pussy clamps down on him.

You whine and bite your lip, hips jolting. He presses a bit deeper and you feel… weirdly stretched out, like you’re going to tear. It hurts. You try to endure it, it’s supposed to hurt, right? It’ll get better. But it continues to hurt. You don’t like it. You panic. “W-wait- wait wait- stop!” You cry out.

Zhongli immediately pulls out and your legs clamp shut, as if shielding you, that weird sensation is still there, you feel… raw, tender.

Your eyes water.

“Dear, are you ok? Did I hurt you?” Zhongli asks, cupping your face, golden eyes searching for your own, assessing your expression.

You avert your gaze, rolling over onto your side. “I’m sorry…” You mumble.

He still tries to face you, worried, so worried, your Zhongli. “Whatever for…?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, bite your lip, a few tears fall onto the bed. Gods you feel so ridiculous and childish and stupid and- “I’m sorry… I was so sure, I thought- I… I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t want to… do this anymore- not now. I’m sorry.” You sob.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for. If anything, I am the one who’s sorry for hurting you, please forgive me, this is… not the experience I wanted you to have.” Zhongli sighs, displeased at seeing you like this.

You finally look up at him, puffy eyes peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not your fault, it’s me… I have this whole… idea, all these expectations. I wanted this to be perfect and I ruined it.”

He rubs slow circles at your back, soothing. “My dear, I don’t think intimacy is something that should be ruled by a standard in any capacity, nor should it be measured and compared, just as experiences and feelings aren’t. These things just flow naturally.”

“You’re not… upset?”

His expression turns serious. “Of course not. On the contrary, I am glad you voiced out your feelings and I’ll respect your boundaries.” He leans down and brushes some hair from your face before depositing a kiss on your cheek. “I want you to feel good, your comfort is of utmost importance. There’s no need to feel pressured.”

You sigh deeply, groan into the bedsheets and then sit up again, pouting at him. “Still, we got all… worked up for nothing. I-I mean I can still…” You gesture vaguely at his lap. “If you want?” You squeak.

Zhongli chuckles and tries to pass it off as a cough. Your face heats up. “No need to concern yourself with that, the arousal is ebbing away, it’ll go down on its own.”

“Oh.”

There is silence for a few moments.

“Do you want-”

“Would you like to-”

“Ah, go ahead.” You shake your head. He smiles.

“I was going to propose a bath.”

You hum. “That sounds lovely. And then maybe… some cuddling on the couch while we watch tv?”

“I would like nothing more.”

He kisses your forehead and heads to the bathroom and as you gingerly stand up, look around and think on how things turned out you think it’s fine.

The right moment will come. You already have the right person by your side.

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acaaai-t · 2 months

Text

and it was all yellow.

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of cheating, breakups, reader likes yellow

“Let’s live together when we get married! Oh oh, and we can get cat too,” you exclaimed. “Or a dog, if you prefer.”

“No kids?” a smile tugged at the corner of his lips at your bubbling excitement.

Your nose scrunched up at the mere thought of having children. “No, no kids,” you said, shaking your head.

Scaramouche laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling up as he looked at you, eyes filled with just pure adoration and love for you.

“Our bedroom can be painted.. hmm..”

“What about yellow?” Scaramouche suggested. “It’s is your favorite color after all.”

You clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Ooh yes! Great idea. Let’s go look at furnitures, please?”

“I still think you’re thinking too far ahead,” he mumbled, yet nevertheless, he took your hand and guided you out the living room.

“It’s never too late to start planning,” you said, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his lips.

…

“Mmm, no. Too… blue.”

“How about this one?” the sales lady gestured to a simple pastel couch placed upon a soft plush carpet. “This one just came in, part of out newest collection of furniture.”

You looked at Scaramouche, who had an unpleasant expression on his face. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the colors—nor the shape of the furniture itself. You turned back to the sales assistant and gently shook your head.

She looked slightly disappointed at your rejection, but she quickly led you to another set of kitchen setups, all the while explaining the benefits provided and how nice it looks. You ran a finger over the waxed surface of the wooden dining table. A cloth of yellow and white checkered pattern lay over the center of the table, a vase of yellow daffodils sitting atop of it.

Yellow.

For as long as you can remember, it’d always been your favorite color. You’ve taken quite the liking to sunflowers recently, and coincidentally enough, they were a beautiful shade of yellow too. Scaramouche knew—he somehow always knew—and made sure to surprise you with bouquets of fresh flowers every once in a while, the giant sunflower being the centerpiece.

Scaramouche knew you, inside and out. The good and the bad. He’s seen through with you through your worst and your best. He knows exactly how to cheer you up when you’re feeling down, via a long cuddle session; how you like your coffee, always black with a splash of vanilla creamer; the people you love and hate; that you adore the color yellow.

Never was there a day where Scaramouche would hear himself say that yellow was lovely color. For some odd reason, ever since he was a young child, he’d always hated yellow. But after meeting you, it’s as if yellow had been completely painted in a new light. Everything yellow he saw, he saw you in it. Splashed across the sunset, blooming in a field under the stars—you. You were always there.

“Do you like it?” Scaramouche asked.

You met his eyes and smiled. “Yeah.”

…

“Yeah, its… true.”

You said nothing.

Scaramouche shifted uncomfortably in his seat at your silence. You kept your eyes trained on the nearly dead daffodil leaning helplessly against its ceramic cage. The petals had begun falling off, you noticed. When had that happened? Just a couple days ago everything was fine. It was healthy and thriving. Happy.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Did he think that such a measly apology was enough to compensate for your broken heart? Nothing Scaramouche did or say could soothe the burning ache that hollowed you from the inside-out. He’d been playing with your emotions for nearly two weeks now. Had it not been Scaramouche slipping up, you would’ve never caught on that he was being intimate with someone else that wasn’t you.

Tears brimmed, the water tension so close to falling. You blinked, and it broke, tears trailing down your cheeks. Does he feel anything seeing you cry? Does he regret his actions? Will he hate himself for what he’s done to you? You gritted your teeth. Even if he begged for you to stay, you won’t waver. It’s his loss.

You sniffled and wiped away your tears. It’s useless. Crying won’t reverse what’s been done. “Whatever,” you muttered, pushing away from the dining table. Your heart aches, but you pushed the pain aside and slowly collected yourself.

The place that you’d once shared with Scaramouche—a place that you once dared called home, was now nothing more than a painful reminder of what once was yours. A place where you’d spent creating countless day and nights painting up a paradise where you’d raise your children with your husband. Everything you’ve done was futile. It’s over.

It was bitter. The process of packing your belongings as Scaramouche remained at the dining table was cruel. Everything you wanted to take only serves as nothing more than a taunt to your now dead relationship. Everything you ever loved you shared with him, and now, you don’t think you’d ever be able to look at them in the same light anymore. Your hands hovered over a pot of crocheted sunflowers sitting above the fireplace. Crestfallen, youfelt your heart twist once more.

In the end, your tiny backpack was only filled with everyday essentials. You swallowed back a cry and dialed a friend as you prepared to leave this god forsaken place.

“Hey Xiao,” your voice was quivering.

Scaramouche stiffened up at the mention of your friend’s name. You didn’t see it however, for your back was turned to him. He wanted to stop you from leaving, to stop you from stepping out the door. But he refrained from doing so. He chewed anxiously at his bottom lips. Don’t leave. Please. He wanted to say. I’m sorry.

Yet he did nothing, only squeezing his eyes shut, listening to the sound of the door slamming shut. When it was finally just him alone in the apartment, he buried his face in the palm of his hands and cried.

The yellow curtains fluttered gently, and the last petal of the daffodil fell.

✩ ·┆ masterlist┆ >> part 2 <<

notes—

— quick life update: haven’t played genshin in a year now, and it’s college application season so i’m going to start stressing; sorry if i disappear again it will keep happening, unfortunately

#[💫] acaaai-t #astronetwrk #genshin angst #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche x you #scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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cheralith · 6 months

Text

and when you catch me ; kaeya alberich

content tags/warnings ; roommate!kaeya x reader, gn!reader, no pronouns used, fluff, slight angst if you squint, modern au, slight fanon characterization of kaeya sry lolol

word count ; 2.4k

now playing ; plot twist - niki

Before you came, Kaeya used to spend his mornings in complete silence. It’d only be broken by the occasional slurps of coffee and the creak of the hardwood floors when he’d saunter across what used to be a lone apartment.

Before you came, Kaeya used to spend his Fridays and weekends going to bars and flirting with anyone his sparkling eye catches on. He’d have an expensive whiskey in hand, seductively drinking from it with a smirk as he’d never break eye contact with the person he was conversing with, their flusteredness going very much noticed.

Before you came, Kaeya used to order takeout to suffice for dinner, spending more money on a single meal than proper groceries. He’d pile up the single-use plastic containers and cutlery in the garbage, going faster than them than a box of cigarettes.

Before you came, Kaeya used to go out on the balcony and fill the night air with the smell of tobacco pushing out through his nose and lips. He’d feel the sting of the nicotine in his lungs, lavishing in its pain masochistically at the stroke of midnight when sleepless nights took over.

Kaeya’s heart was free and unbound. He was an eligible bachelor with no intention of caging himself in a relationship despite the many sweethearts that desired to capture his heart for themselves. He loved the freedom given to him by being single and loose, with no one to boss him around or tell him the correct direction of life. There was no one to take away his third glass of wine for the night, no one to cook him homemade meals, no one to tell him off for smoking nearly a pack of Marlboro in a single sitting. There was no one to sit down with him on a Friday night to watch a 1990’s romcom with cheap popcorn, there was no one to quietly sing out classic jazz in the morning dawn, there was no one.

Until you came.

When you came into Kaeya’s life, you came into it by accident. He was working with you in a group project and he found you both cooperative to work with and easy to talk to and throughout the period, he was able to genuinely call you a friend. You would’ve been a perfect target to seduce if it weren't for the fact that he would routinely see you for the next month or so until the project was finished, meaning an awkwardness that was waiting to blossom would have to come sooner or later if he did take initiative. You began ending up sharing Kaeya’s simple two-bedroom-one-bathroom apartment when you accidentally slipped out one day whilst working with him that your landlord was going to raise your rent by a hefty amount through a soft laugh.

Kaeya had looked at you almost amazingly—almost surprised at how you were so calm. He remembers that you went straight back to your laptop after mentioning the feat before he had broken the silence with the simple phrase he didn’t know would change everything.

“Do you want to move in with me, instead?”

Honestly, he should’ve known better. Who asks a person he had known for only three and a half weeks to move in with them? But you were out on a whim, and though you would’ve never admitted it, you needed the help. As if a broke grad student like you could afford a shoebox apartment whose rent was twice the amount of Kaeya’s.

It had taken him a good hour of convincing you to move in with him, telling you that his apartment was larger than life and most certainly needed more people to fill up the void. You were only half-convinced afterwards, but he supposes the glimmer in your eye when you spotted the untouched reading nook with a gaping window sill staring out of the city was the kicker for you to move in.

It was a quick move—your apartment was so small you were able to move everything you owned into only one trip. Kaeya had purchased most things like cups or bowls in doubles or even triples, so there wasn’t even a need to get more cutlery or furniture. He had always felt like his apartment was meant to be shared considering the large amount of empty space he’d often wander around or how much he’d contemplated actually needing six bowls in the cabinet.

He wasn’t accustomed to having to do more batches of laundry on the weekends at first—nor was he accustomed to coming home with the TV on, having the kitchen smell faintly of basil, marinara sauce, and meatballs. The evidence that someone else was home besides him didn’t grow on him so quickly. It made him uncomfortable for a bit, even, knowing his personal space was now overlapping with another’s.

But as the weeks went on, as the months went on, he began to grow used to the piling dishes in the sink from the night before. He began being used to the hamper being half full with the week only being a third done. He began to smell the aroma in the air in the evening, trying to guess what you had cooked prior and searching if you saved him some.

And those silly little habits became routine as you slowly attached yourself to his life without either of you realizing it.

Kaeya supposes that those little things that you did were the very things that made him lose himself in the one thing he thought he would never get tangled in.

And damn, did he despise it.

To have someone pay this much attention to him without the feeling of desire and lust is something all too foreign to the libertine. The way you noticed his little things made his heart sting. You had memorized his coffee routine after the first week and never went a day without it having been prepared and ready for him in the mornings. You noticed how he always sets the TV volume at either an even number or at a multiple of five and never changed it to anything else. You noticed how he’d fidget in a sort of nervousness—whether that be picking at his fingernails or toying with the cuff of his sleeves—when he would ask you if you made him something alongside your dinner. And the answer was always.

Kaeya had eaten alone by himself ever since he blossomed into his teenage years. Adelinde, in the old family mansion he used to live in, was his only company, but even so, she would merely stand idly a few feet away from him as she waited for him to finish his supper only to clean up after him. The conversations rarely lasted a minute between the two anyway.

It traveled to adulthood, eating alone. The company that tagged along with him whenever he’d eat out with friends made him uneasy—talking while eating made him hasty. So Kaeya ended up just skipping friend dinners altogether and would catch up for drinks at a later time.

But when you had patted the chair next to you on the kitchen island the evening you moved in, that uncomfortability he held so strongly had chipped away ever so slowly with every dinner you had with him.

Kaeya would find it strange, at first. How do people talk whilst eating without being gross and spitting out food? How do people manage to hold conversations when one should merely focus on finishing their meal? He didn’t understand how you had so much to talk about in a single slice of time with him and still manage to enjoy the meal you ate. That sort of multitasking didn’t exist within him.

But he slowly realized that it wasn’t the food that connected people as they ate together.

It was the time spent with each other. Food just happened to always be in the foreground.

He didn’t even realize he began looking forward to those dinners with you until he had complained you ate dinner without him at that singular time when you nonchalantly mentioned the food was in the fridge before he forced you to eat a second dinner with him or else he wouldn’t let you go to bed.

“Kae, I’m full—”

“Don’t care,” he huffed, pushing your stiff form from the living room to the kitchen, “We’ve always eaten together and that’s how it’ll always be.”

“Just get the food from the fridge and eat it in the living room!” you exasperated.

“No, it doesn’t feel right,” he insisted and plopped your pouting form into your usual seat near the island. “We’re eating together and that’s final.”

But it wasn’t when you made that little comment that one moonlit evening that you had pulled him into a whirlpool of strange feelings without being conscious of it.

There was a time that Kaeya didn’t have work while you did, and he ended up sparing some of that time attempting to learn a recipe as a thank you for cooking him lovely homemade meals (it didn’t even turn out half bad despite being a menace in the kitchen when he attempted to help you!). Being the extra person he was, he had covered the island with a satin tablecloth and had picked up a neat flower arrangement from the florist down the street to plop into the vase gifted to him by the elderly landlady that claimed he should one day be her son-in-law.

The candelabra that held up three candlesticks was perhaps a little too much, he had thought seconds before you had walked through the door. By then, it was too late to remove or add any little details since upon entering your shared home, you had commented on the sweet aroma that wafted the air from the oven, not knowing that it had just finished up baking a simple lava cake.

It was only after you had finished the three-course meal that he prepared that Kaeya realized what he had prepared for you unintentionally.

“It’s almost like we’re on a date!” you had laughed lightly.

Kaeya paused as your giggles died down, staring at you almost incredulously, trying to take in what you just said without thought. “H-huh?”

“I mean,” you cleared your throat with the prepared wine and gestured to the preparations. “Look at this. The flowers, the candles, the moonlight. You can’t tell me this doesn’t give ‘ dinner date’ vibes.”

He could only stare at your blurring figure for a second or so before muttering, “Yeah… I guess it is like a date…”

That pivoting point was what made Kaeya start noticing the little details adorning your being. How you always reached for a specific cup for tea, what you liked to wear according to your wardrobe, those sort of little petals of yourself that slowly fell into his palms began to decor him in your little habits.

And it was sort of comforting.

He’d never admit to falling in love. Oh, no, that wasn’t the case at all with him. His little gifts to you and acts of servitude and occasional warm touches to you were not droplets of love… they were mere… favorited affection… as Kaeya would nickname it.

But love?

Absolutely not. That’s too much of a title.

Him noting to get you that ivory ivy-patterned dress once his pay cheque came while you both window-shopped in autumn was not love. Nor was idly wrapping himself around you and resting his chin on your forehead as you cooked, breathing in your scent and feeling the softness of your skin. Neither was carrying you to bed after falling asleep mid-movie and tucking you in before counting your breaths as he laid his head next to yours. And don’t get started on how he would get too worried if you still weren’t through the door at the designated time you said you’d be home by to the point where he considered calling the authorities (only for you to graze in three minutes later), because that was just him worrying about your safety like any other ordinary roommate. Love was not embracing himself in your warmth during the coldest of nights in your room, under your comforter. It wasn’t listening and singing to the songs you liked, and it most certainly was not making sure you both had time for an “outing” with each other every Saturday of each week.

Love isn’t wrapping you up in his scarf immediately when you give the smallest sneeze as a chill passes by. Love isn’t excusing himself early with an outing with friends when you text him if you want to catch up on the show you were watching together. Love isn’t contemplating whether the title of calling you his “lover” would suit you, nor were the imaginations of holding your face in his hands with his lips tenderly kissing yours as the flurrying feeling inside him melds together into a pool of amorous yearning for you and you only.

Love doesn’t keep up late at night a room away from you, wondering if you thought of him as much as he thought of you that day. Love doesn’t make him weak in the knees when you gleam a glorious smile at him at peak happiness—the type of smile where your cheeks hurt a little bit and your eyes crinkle so much, the whites aren’t visible anymore. Love doesn’t make him stare at your ring finger, wondering what size it is and how a jeweled band would look around it.

Love doesn’t make him do any of those things.

Kaeya Alberich does not love you in that sense.

He is one hundred percent sure of that.

…

“Kaeya!” you call from the front door, poking your head in with a concerned look on your face. “You said you were ready? Our brunch reservation isn’t gonna eat itself—you know how busy it gets on Saturdays.”

Swallowing thickly, Kaeya shoves his hand inside his coat pocket smoothly. “I’m coming, I just need to find my wallet,” he lies nonchalantly, “Start the car, I’ll be down in a few.”

You eye his right hand suspiciously for a moment. “Alright…” you murmur with a raised brow. “Don’t take too long though, I’m getting hungry!”

With a quick creak of the door and the snapping of a lock, Kaeya lets out a tense breath before pulling his hand out. Opening the modest white velvet box, he glides his thumb on the delicate sapphire promise ring, making sure it’s free of any marks and spare dust before closing the box and tucking it safely into his pocket again.

With another sharp breath and a quick fix of his hair, he whisks himself out to face what could be the most important day of his life.

… or maybe he’s ninety-nine percent sure.

a/n ; this was an old work i had totally forgotten about until i was cleaning up my drive and decided to post merely because i thought there were some tidbits that deserved their spotlight. the original title was actually "and when i catch you", but since it centers kaeya's perspective, i tweaked it a little bit to make it more fitting :>

anyways, thanks for reading as always!! your time, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed <3

#genshin impact #genshin #kaeya alberich #kaeya #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x you #genshin fluff #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #tartaglia #al haitham x reader #kamisato ayato

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

Text

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main masterlist

The Shielded Heart Aemond Targaryen x female character (second person perspective). Multi chapter - complete. Angst. Smut.

Light the Way Modern!Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character. Two parts - complete. Smut. BDSM. Angst.

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? Modern!Aemond Targaryen x nameless female charater. Multi-chapter - complete. Smut. Angst. Sugar daddy AU.

Rev. 22:20 Aemond Targaryen x septa. Multi chapter - complete. Smut.

Push the Sky Away Aemond Targaryen x ofc (Lorra Stark). Multi chapter - complete. Angst. Smut.

Cozened Indigo Modern!Aemond Targaryen x nameless female charater. Multi-chapter - complete. Smut. Dark themes.

Unbearable

Aemond Targaryen x female character (second person perspective). One shot. Angst. Smut.

Closer

Dom!Aemond x Sub!female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Fall Into Me

Dom!Aemond x Sub!female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Give It Up

Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

As The Gods Intended

Aemond Targaryen x Aela Targaryen (OFC). One shot. Smut. DD;DNE. Incest. Angst.

Carrion Flowers

Aemond Targaryen x Ceryse Stone (OFC). One shot. Angst. Smut.

The Colour of Blood

Aemond Targaryen x Sylva Martell (OFC). One shot. Angst. Smut.

Anhedonia Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut. Angst.

Careless Words Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut. Angst.

Release Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Invidia Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut. BDSM.

Duty, Sacrifice Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Dream of Me Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Gold Dust Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Ūbnon

Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Gīsītsos Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Unbidden Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective) x Daemon Targaryen. One shot. Smut.

My Body is a Cage Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Angst.

Go in Shadows Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Angst, Smut.

Tear Down My Reason Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person perspective). One shot. Smut.

Choking with Aemond (smut)

Aemond questions the legitimacy of his child (angst/fluff)

Aemond with Velaryon ofc (smut/angst/fluff)

Aemond Teasing His Wife (smut)

Aemond's Cum Face (smut/fluff)

Face Riding with Aemond (smut)

Aemond Upsetting His Wife (angst/fluff)

Giving Aemond a Blowjob (smut)

Tying Aemond Up (smut)

Vhagar x Aemond (crack fic) Post Pregnancy Sex with Aemond (angst/smut)

Spit Kink with Aemond (angst/smut)

Mutual Pining with Aemond (angst)

Reluctant Lovers with Aemond (smut)

Lead Up to the Wedding Night with Aemond (smut)

High Valyrian Lessons with Aemond (smut)

Period Sex with Aemond (smut)

Ball Sucking with Aemond (smut)

Sex on the Iron Throne with Aemond (smut)

Subby Aemond (smut)

Name Day Smut with Aemond (smut)

Praise Kink with Aemond (smut)

Cockwarming with Aemond (smut)

Sex Dream with Aemond (smut)

Breeding Kink with Aemond (smut)

Pegging with Aemond (smut)

Aemond Helping His Wife Relax (smut)

Aemond with a Serving Girl (smut)

More Subby Aemond (smut)

First Time Head with Aemond (smut)

Pampering Aemond (angst/smut)

Morning Sex with Aemond (smut)

Doggy Style with Aemond (smut)

Birthday Cunnilingus with Aemond (smut)

Birthday Dry Humping with Aemond (smut)

Overstimulation with Aemond (smut)

Thigh Riding with Aemond (smut)

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fan fiction #masterlist #house of the dragon #hotd

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angelpassing-by · 8 months

Text

SOMETHING BAD GOING ON LATELY

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc. Genre: angst, comfort. Your boyfriend realises over time you're in a bad mental space and comforts you after you open up. Modern AU. Tw: self harm, not graphic mention of injuries and self harm scars, depression episodes. A/N: English is not my first language. A bit rambly and incoherent, I'm afraid-

ZHONGLI ִ ֗- - - - - - - - ꔫ - - - - - - - - ִ ۫

You hadn't really been feeling yourself lately. Things happened around you as if they were filtered by a distorted glass. Words had a static sound behind them, and even silence felt somehow too heavy.

You laid still most of the time, waiting for the time to pass by, one, two, five hours and counting. Without the soft humming of your partner the air on the appartment felt constricting. The couch wasn't even that comfortable, but you didn't have the energy to get up.

it took some time for the ex-archon to pick up on your behaviour, all in all, as an inmortal being, he was used to stillness. Plus, it definetly didn't help that you weren't normally very energetic either.

"Honey, are you feeling fine?"

That had been a particularly difficult day as you were forced out of your home by your friends. They laughed and joked and you felt so, so out of place through the entire time. You couldn't help but feel inadequate. You weren't as funny as them, or as pretty, or smart or kind. You just couldn't figure out how to reach to them, and in your poor state of mind, everything you could think about was how little you gave to them.

"Yes, just kind of tired, don't worry." You lied, slowly getting up and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Are you sure, you have been a bit down lately." He trailed behind you but his words seemed to vanish on thin air, or maybe be swallowed by too-thick air.

You couldn't be bothered to respond, why would you? Things changed around you, you could do nothing. Words were spoken, but life just continued after all, long and miserable. And you, you were just watching from the sidelines.

"Do you want to go somewhere? Or maybe just order takeout and watch something." Your boyfriend was getting anxious, he knew nothing about human beings.

Maybe you were sick.

"I'm fine. I'll go to bed early though so don't bother." You talked drily, where were the endearing nicknames or the shy smiles? Zhongli couldn't help but wonder.

You went to bed early without saying goodnight and were still fast asleep when he got up for work. Well, actually, you had prentended to be sleeping, feeling the sweet goodnight kiss on your temple and the squeeze on your hand when he left.

You felt like a terrible partner, avoiding your significant other. In truth, you were scared, what if he dind't seem real? What if he suddenly had the realisation that you were nothing but a bystander in everyone's life?

That night, the scene repeated, but instead of confronting you, Zhongli simply asked in a gentle manner "Can I hug you, my dear?"

That caught you by surprise and you absentmidedly nodded, still convinced that he wouldn't dare to touch you. But he did, wrapping you in big, warm arms and securing you to his chest, the fabric of his expensive suit rubbing against your cheek.

In that precise moment, time froze, the glass cage that had been keeping you isolated for weeks shattering. The thrumming of his heart against your ear, clearer than any sound you'd heard as of lately. His hands on your back felt so real, so genuine. You dind't even noticed that you were talking, softly wispering as he rubbed your back in circular motions.

"You're real."

DILUC ִ ֗ - - - - - - - - ꔫ - - - - - - - - ִ ۫

That was one of the only times when you could actually feel like yourself. When the pressure on your chest was lifted and the stream of tears clouded that little skeptical voice inside your mind.

"Are you even real?"

"Do you exists if no one looks at you?"

"Everything would be fine if you were gone."

The steady pulse hammering your head as the heavy droplets of crimson slide across your marred skin somehow gave you peace. And you felt horrible for it. Horrible for relapsing and falling again for old vices. Horrible for lying to your boyfriend. Horrible because everything was fine, yet you still felt distant from it all.

The tender scars across your arms itched as you tugged on your long sleeves, always paranoid that they would to slip down, just enough to reveal a trail of swollen skin and distorted lines. The anxiety making you space out from whatever your boyfriend was talking at that moment. Truthfully, you had no energy left to hear some story about drunkards or the mysterious Dark Night.

" - and of course, Charles just had to do it, you know?" Diluc, immersed in his monologue as he was, had unconsciously approached you, a shoulder brushing against you own.

You made an uncomfortable noise when he pulled you closer but aside from a hurt look, he let it slide and proceed to ask about your day. Pretty uneventful, you still managed to pull a believable performance sprinkling some exaggerations and white lies into your tale.

From that day on the exchange repeated a handful of times and finally you felt something change in the air between you two. Diluc became careful when approaching you, choosing to keep his distance, and colder, quite literally. You had grown, over the time you both had been together, accustomed to the heat that he naturally radiated due to his vision but now, with your body hidden under layers and layers of protective fabric, the temperature was unbearable. That coldness had seeped into the atmosphere at your home. With Diluc unable to use his love language in fear that it would make you uncomfortable, the tension built up.

"Did I do anything?" That was the last thing you were expecting that day.

You had slipped into bed quickly after a small dinner and Diluc had promptly followed you to the master bedroom, sitting out of arm reach at the edge of the mattress.

"No!" You voice came louder than you had expected it. "No" You repeated yourself quietly.

"Then why this? Did someone do something to you?" He finally looked at you, deeply into your eyes with a scared expression.

"No, it's got nothing to do with you or anybody else. It's just... too hot."

He smiled awkwardly and tried to joke it off "Am I really that hot that you can't stand being around me?"

But you didn't laugh and his serious face and deep frown reappeared. "Maybe if you didn't wear so many layers -"

"No"

"Why?"

And then it happened, it never occurred to you he would ask why. Why? And then you told him. The words pouring out of your mouth without any cohesion or structure. You told him about that part of yourself, the one that didn’t let you live in peace. You told him about that not feeling real that you carried around, about the cuts and how you didn't know how to stop, how to make the urge go away. You rambled until your throat felt sore and your head began pulsating with the familiar thrumming of an imminent headache.

"I know you are not fine, " he paused and moved closer to you "and I doubt there's anything really I can do. But I want - no - I need to help you. I can't stand to see you in pain, I love you too much and you love yourself too little. So please, tell me, what can I do?" His face pleading for something, anything.

Deep red eyes searched for yours before you hesitantly asked, "Can I hold your hand?"

#genshin impact #tw depression #tw self harm #tw depressing stuff #genshin angst #genshin comfort #zhongli x reader #zhongli comfort #diluc x reader #diluc comfort #diluc angst #zhongli angst #depression comfort

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daughter-lilith · 8 days

Text

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 3 | Read Part 2 here

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+ (In future Parts)

CW (For whole story): Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 4.2k

Halsin sighed unevenly, leaning into your touch. When you squeezed your arms around him, he took it as an invitation to hold you tighter against him, sheltering you in his warmth. You fit perfectly in his arms, tucked beneath his chin, resting yourself against his chest, just like he remembered.

He rested his chin softly near your head and inhaled quietly, deeply. Taking in the scent of your hair, he was instantly met with a waft of memories as the light, citrusy scent with a hint of chamomile flowed into his nose. How it was possible that even your hair smelled familiar, he didn't care, all that mattered was you were in his arms again. You were safe.

He knew you must’ve felt the pounding in his heart, with your cheek pressed so sweetly against him. But he didn’t mind, he simply surrendered to the embrace, loving how your shoulders started to relax in his hold. His mind drifted to all the times he held you just outside of camp under the stars, or passed the time in the lively Elfsong Tavern while you and your friends gathered around the center, laughing and drinking all night.

You had helped him release a heavy burden after breaking the shadow curse, freeing him of his obsession to right what he felt were his wrongs. You released him from yet another cage, one of emotional and mental strain. With that newfound freedom, Halsin could finally allow his heart to seek yours willingly, without reservations.

Halsin couldn’t quell the smile on his face, visualizing the memory of your soft fingers tracing lazy patterns across his bare chest as you lay together. The morning sun would be peeking through the sheer curtains, casting a glittering shimmer across your beautiful, naked skin.

He’d lay there, one arm wrapped securely around you, and glance down to press a tender kiss on your forehead. You’d murmur sweet things beneath him before glancing up to grace him with your eyes, then leaning upwards to capture his lips. His heart would swell with the reality of you still being by his side, each and every day, grateful that it wasn’t all just a dream.

“It’s always going to be you, Halsin,” you whispered to him one night when his insecurities were starting to get the better of him.

Halsin had been a roaming man for as long as he could remember, when life made it painfully clear to him that good things were temporary, especially where love was involved. He let his heart run wild, free to connect with whoever managed to capture it, knowing one day they’d release it and move on.

Most of them just wanted the experience really; to say they once bedded an elf as large as a half-orc, who could also transform into a bear. And who was Halsin to not give the people what they wanted? They were just exploring nature’s bounties, something that he was very much a part of. And after the allure had waned, some slower than others, they always moved on.

But you never moved on. He didn’t want you to move on. Having you in his life opened a new way of love he had never felt before, had never received before. In all of his 350 years, he had finally understood why some people have no eyes for anyone else, seek no one else.

He discovered that nature was many things; ever roaming bees carrying pollen on the wind, traveling from flower to flower and sometimes back again. But nature could also be focused, still, where trees rooted themselves deep within the layers of the earth, rising tall and staying in place for centuries with the company of their closest loved ones all around them. The bear may not mate for life, but Halsin was not just a bear, and he wanted more.

You were all Halsin wanted, but still, he did not wish for you to feel trapped. Just because his desires had altered, didn’t mean you had to conform to them. He was more than prepared to continue sharing in your heart, anything to still have you in his life. But then you chose to stay with him after defeating the Absolute, and you continued to choose him day after day. You often reminded him of his worth when he couldn’t understand what he did differently to deserve you. His love for you only swelled to unbelievable heights, watered by the consistency of various acts of affection that you two showered each other with. Your love always overcame any hiccups and minor conflicts, rising above them and further strengthening your bond.

And standing there now, engulfing you in his large arms while recalling the past, it was enough to forget all that happened. It was easy to get lost in you again, to believe that he was still back on Toril and in Faerûn. His heart still desperately longed for you, his soul burning to reconnect with yours, sensing you were still there within. He longed to revive the fires between you, and to spend hours enveloped in your embrace, to make up for lost time.

“And my heart will be yours. Always,” Halsin would murmur to you before sealing his promise with a deepening kiss. Your warm breath would mingle with his as his lips would explore yours, slowly, intently. He’d chuckle as your tongue began tracing along his bottom lip, seeking entry which he always obliged, tasting you eagerly.

The image alone caused a sudden flush deep in his abdomen as hot blood flowed toward his hardening bulge. He stifled a groan, bringing himself back to the present as he remembered the brutal reality of this embrace. It was another goodbye; one he didn’t get the chance to fully have before your body so quickly faded from his arms, disappearing somewhere into the timeless space of the Astral Plane, becoming a permanent part of it… or so he thought.

Oh, how he ached to feel more of you, to let the softness of your robe slip from your shoulders, dropping to the floor. To have your skin against his… But he couldn’t, for you were already too kind to give him this much already.

Halsin shifted his hips, suddenly nervous that you were starting to feel him. Creating some space between your lower bodies, he hoped that he was discreet enough, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But despite the building heat filling his abdomen, and the involuntary reaction to your touch, he wasn’t ready to let go of you yet. So, he held you a little longer, inhaling your scent and silently reveling in how perfectly you molded into him.

After some time, he couldn’t be sure how long, you were pulling away from one another, both of your movements slow and reluctant. His chest felt colder without you, already missing the warmth of your cheek, wishing these clothes weren’t an unwelcome barrier.

His large hands held onto your much smaller forearms, your fingers returning the connection, both reluctant to separate. Halsin watched your face rise to look at him, your gaze was so innocent and yet full of so many emotions. It pained him that he had frightened you, or the situation itself rather.

He continued to stare at you, intense, imprinting your image in his mind, not that he could ever forget it. You looked exactly the same, save for your more human ears and how you wore your hair, but it was the same face he fell for over thirty years ago. Halsin looked down at your lips as they parted, anticipating your angelic voice to grace his ears.

“Will you be okay?” you asked tenderly, full of concern.

His heart skipped at your worry for him, even now, when you had no memory of who he was. Even now, when you were wrestling with a torrent of emotions, your life completely changing in one night.

Halsin tried to smile convincingly as he reassured you that he would be fine, so long as you were. His thumb rubbed idly against your arm. “Finding you at all is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. And I will spend the rest of time being thankful, until my flesh finally yields to nature.”

He watched your chest hitch a bit, a gasp you likely tried to conceal from him. He stood with bated breath while your eyes roamed over his face, carefully taking in his features. He noticed you looking over his scars, then down to his lips, lingering there. Halsin felt himself twitch, the blood throbbing against his pants never waning. He almost leaned forward, severing the distance to capture your lips in a heated kiss. But with a quiet breath, he swallowed the temptation, uneasily rubbing his lips together.

Halsin was a master of restraint, especially if he was unsure his advances would be reciprocated. That was until he finally allowed himself to feel, all those years ago, after lifting the shadow curse. From then on, he lost himself in you often with abandon, only pulling back when he felt the bear stirring…sometimes at least.

But your eyes left his lips, shifting over to his druidic tattoo. He wanted to tell you about it again, like he once did as the two of you sat near the edge of a river, sharing stories before you ended the night with passionate lovemaking. But he didn’t want to further overwhelm you with more stories of a life you didn’t remember, a life that was too much for your current mind to grasp.

Halsin watched you lean upwards, still eyeing that side of his cheek. His heart skipped as you drew closer, and he bent down, assisting you as he tilted his head a bit. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the feel of your lips again. Though it would not be upon his own, he would not be greedy, thankful for anything you were willing to give him. The softness of your breath caressed his skin, sending a hot flash down his neck. Your lips, tender and a little cool, pressed ever-so-gently against his cheek. His skin tingled, filling with blood at the sensation of your soft lips.

But the euphoric feeling was cut short as Halsin felt you jolt backwards, nearly falling, but he was quick to catch you. Panic surged through him as he captured you back in his arms, carrying your numb weight. He eyed you frantically, startled by the shocked, faraway look in your eyes.

Your legs started to wobble, even as Halsin held you, so he guided you to the floor as gently as he could. Resting on his knees, he held one arm around your back, with the other hand coming to lift your chin.

“My heart?” Halsin breathed hastily, panicked, searching your eyes for any sign that you were there. But your gaze looked past him, a half-shocked, half-focused expression in your eyes. “What is it? Come back to me.”

He reached within himself, conjuring the magic that coursed throughout his essence. Pushing through his racing heart, he desperately brought his magic forth as golden light rose from his hand. He waved it over your face, closing his eyes, hoping to sense what suddenly ailed you. But a strange, mental force blocked him, thrusting him back. His magical light waned but Halsin did not relent. He muttered a spell, and bright, blue light now took the space of the golden one, and he pressed it to your cheek, hoping it would bring your consciousness forth.

But the gentle light simply caressed your cheek and flowed into your face, having no influence on your current affliction. His hands were trembling now, unsure what was happening to you but not giving up his efforts. The hammering in his heart was loud in his ears, fear rushing through him as you remained unresponsive despite your eyes still being open, the distant look ever-present.

Seconds passed rapidly, Halsin muttering spell after spell to heal or to remove a curse, remembering the levels to it that Shadowheart once taught him. But this did nothing to aid you.

A sudden thought beamed in his mind; to pick you up and open another portal to take you back to Faerûn. There, just maybe he could find the help you needed. Halsin knew nothing of this world, of its inhabitants, he wouldn’t know who to take you to. But if he went back home, there was already someone not far on the other side he could summon to help him, to help you.

But fear halted him. How would you react to this once you awoke? To find yourself in a world far from home without your consent? You were already afraid and overwhelmed, to wake up in a foreign place seemed like too much. He shuddered at the thought, hating the idea of you being angry with him. Yet, if it helped you, he would risk it.

But another thought challenged this… could he even open another portal so soon? He huffed, frustration snatching him entirely, mingling with the fear that gripped his throat as he held you.

Halsin leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, and breathed deeply. “My heart…please.”

Your body gave another jolt.

You felt strong arms holding you, suspecting them to be Halsin’s, but you couldn’t see him anymore. The familiarity of your kitchen was gone, replaced by a flash of white light that nearly blinded you. An intense force erupted in your head, and you felt yourself being thrust forward, like being pulled into a vacuum. But as you looked around, you could only see a swirl of lights rushing past your face.

You frantically waved your arms around, desperately trying to find something to grasp onto, hoping to slow your body down but to no avail. You were soaring through this strange wormhole of colorful lights. The speed was faster than you could comprehend, and when you managed to look at your arms, an ethereal misty light floated over your skin, moving haphazardly. It had the same shape as your arms, your legs, and your torso, slipping partially out of your body before being snapped back inside. Fear gripped you like a vice as you realized what you were seeing was you, or your soul at least.

This is a dream. It’s just a dream. But you couldn’t remember falling asleep. Weren’t you just standing in your kitchen? You were talking to someone. A visitor. A man. An…elf? A handsome face flickered in your mind. Halsin! Where was he? What was happening? Panic started to have its way within you, but you willed yourself to stay strong, mentally holding onto your essence.

Whatever was happening, it was not going to take your soul, you wouldn’t allow it. But no matter how quickly you moved through this strange place, faster than sound, faster than light perhaps, your spirit remained with you, flickering in and out of view but otherwise attached. Your mind rattled as a million random visions assaulted you all at once.

Lights passed, unseen faces flashing by. A new feeling emerged, a sense of awareness. No, these were not random visions, but memories…your memories. They zipped by, and you desperately tried to focus. Wherever you were, whatever was happening had to be in your mind, so you should be able to control it, right?

The bizarre, portal-like wormhole shifted, dropping you into another gravity-less tunnel. It was brighter there. Blue and purple lights swirled around you, and the images reemerged, flying along each side of you like old film strips. You willed yourself to focus, to grasp onto them, they were yours after all and you had every right to access them.

A warmth spread across your chest and your forehead started tingling. Through the chaos, the visuals started to slow, briefly, flickering in and out as if they were also trying to find you, to give you a clearer view. Time began to slow, allowing you a chance to analyze each memory, to pause time before it rushed past you again. Hundreds— thousands of visuals passed by, but your mind was faster, quickly deciphering what memories you could before they zapped away again.

You saw a city, buzzing with people, but it wasn’t like the modern one you knew with hordes of foot traffic and annoyed drivers. This one felt older, brimming with magic, where unique races of all kinds roamed the streets together. Baldur’s Gate. You remembered it! You lived there once. Then, it flashed away.

⋆

A quiet beach, warm white sands beneath your feet. You stepped towards the water, flinching at the sudden coolness. You were just outside of Baldur’s Gate, visiting your cousin who was already waist-deep in the water. They beckoned you to hurry up. The waves were calm today, the perfect time to swim along the shallows.

A massive shadow suddenly blocked out the sun. You looked up, some sort of ship with… tentacles? The Nautiloid. Your heart lurched. It abducted you that day.

⋆

Another flash. Gone was the sun and sandy beaches, replaced by darkness and worn stone beneath your boots.

“Ugh, I’m going to smell like goblin guts for weeks.” You knew that voice, it came from your left. White hair entered the side of your vision. Astarion. “This isn’t good for my hair, you know,” you heard him say, groaning in defeat.

Behind you, Lae’zel and Gale followed as you led them through a winding side section of the dungeon-like camp.

Gale clasped his hands, following closely. “Right then! Let’s just find our ‘Master Druid’ and hopefully sort out this whole worm-in-our-heads mess.”

⋆

A bear behind bars. It was angry. Massive. No, not just a bear, an elf. The one you and your companions were searching for. Your heart hitched; you knew that druid. He was your druid. His eyes found yours, body covered in blood and viscera. You reached for him, nearly desperate. The vision faltered.

⋆

Laughter at a campfire. You were dancing around it, arms linked with Karlach and Wyll as you enthusiastically skipped along the ground while Astarion’s skillful fingers thrummed away at his lute. You caught a glance of Shadowheart trying to convince a very stern Lae’zel to put her sword down and have a drink. And across from them was Gale, who looked flushed after one too many cups of wine. He had conjured a magical image of Mystra, sighing as he gazed sadly at her.

You remembered this night. They were your companions, your friends. Across the fire, you glanced at him, Halsin. He was smiling, pure glee in his warm eyes as he watched you all dance the night away.

⋆

A small boy stood before you, tiny, horn-like branches protruding out of his head. “Ketheric Thorm must die,” the young boy said. But not just a boy- something older, something a part of the land around you. Shadows. A curse.

A grieving father, a general, invulnerable no longer. He dropped his weapon and freely fell backward into the eerie, green pool. You sprang forth, halted by Halsin’s grip. The ground trembled. A skeletal god emerged.

⋆

It had been days since you first met Halsin in the forest, who stood waiting for you by a large tree. He was so nervous that night. The tall, large Archdruid of many lovers, whose stomach was in knots at the thought of confessing himself to you.

Your relationship reached new, beautiful heights that night. Now, you were running through a similar forest, your throat echoing with laughter and excitement, the trees whipping past your heated face. Halsin was sprinting behind you, a hunter. The chase was thrilling. You couldn’t wait until he finally pounced on you, trapping you under his weight. But you’d make him work a little harder first.

⋆

“You’re one of them? All this time?” shock gripped your entire being as you stared up at the illithid. Your guardian, or who they had claimed to be anyway. Betrayal. Anger. Pondering… A decision was made to give it a chance since it had been helpful thus far. But one chance only.

“Thank you for trusting me,” the emperor said, its voice powerful and reverberating through you.

“Tsk’va!” Lae’zel spat. “My people broke free from ghaik enslavement, and now I would ally myself with one? If it so much as thinks of betraying us, I’ll cut off its tentacles myself!

⋆

Gale brushed down his robe, then reached to pick up his quarterstaff. “Well, the so-called ‘Slayer’ is no more.”

You bent down, digging through Orin’s pile of gore for the glowing stone. You grabbed it and then tentatively scanned the massive chamber, watching as the other followers of Bhaal simply looked down at you, disinterested.

Behind you, the druid’s deep voice reached your ears. “You would think they’d be more… dismayed about the fall of one of their own,” he said, hovering over you as if to act as a shield.

Gale chuckled. “On the contrary, I think they rather enjoyed the show. But best we do not linger.”

⋆

Sorrow filled your chest, aching to console your angered, distraught friend-turned-sister. But you stood still, not wanting to pressure her. She needed to get this out, to verbally rage with abandon to anyone who would simply listen.

“He’s dead, and he’s no fucking sorrier now than he was before.” Karlach gritted her teeth, her orange flames brightening, dancing along her skin. “I’m going to be as dead as Gortash any day now. Any moment. And what then?”

You started to reach for her, but the image blurred, rocketing away again.

⋆

Falling through the sky, winds rushed past your face, gravity doing nothing to save you. Large arms enveloped you from behind, shielding your back just as you both hit the water. Your arms and legs kicked and flailed in the water, trying to steady yourself in the chaos.

But you were not alone. You calmed as you recognized you were still being held, protected, already breaching the surface with almost no effort on your part. Exhausted, Halsin guided you toward land, the two of you scrambling to get back onto the docks. Coughs and sputtering filled the air around you, and a giant moan blared across the water. A fallen netherbrain, defeated. A bright, electric flash blinded you as the brain finally succumbed.

⋆

Heavy breaths, needy touches, and racing hearts gave the room life. Halsin’s lips tasted your chest, your neck, your jaw, then back to your lips again. You pulled away a few inches, staring at him, the two of you still bloodied and bruised, his lips swollen from your kiss. You had won, no more than an hour ago.

The city was battered, with several miles of destruction outside the window, it would take time to heal, to rebuild. But that could wait. Celebrations were already taking place. The evil was defeated, and you urgently needed to feel Halsin’s touch again as soon as possible.

⋆

White lights passed by, like streaks of lightning. Another vision. You honed in before it could rush away. A bedroom, golden light filtering in through sheer curtains. Peace washed over you as your bare legs draped lazily over thick thighs.

Your heart swelled, glancing up at your sleepy-eyed druid. “Good morning, my heart,” he whispered before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Your stomach fluttered; heart happy. Twenty years of waking up in Halsin’s arms never dulled, no matter where the two of you were.

You broke the kiss to look at him, noting the lace of worry in his eyes. He hardly slept. You frowned, reaching to place a hand against his cheek. You already sensed what may be troubling him for it had been on your mind as well. “Did you rest at all, my love?”

Halsin breathed heavily, his large chest moving beneath you. “It was…difficult to.” You felt the pace of his strong heart begin to rise, ever so slightly. “We rejoin our friends and allies today, to take the fight to Vlaakith. I… I suppose a part of me worries.”

You smiled softly at him, full of understanding. It had been years since you faced such a foe. You had years of peace and bliss together since the fall of The Absolute. Not even your trip to Avernus to find someone to fix Karlach’s heart resulted in any remarkable enemies, completely avoiding Zariel’s detection. You stroked your thumb along the scars on his beautiful face, reaching back up to brush your lips against his.

You wanted to linger in this memory of calmness, to grasp onto it longer. But your mind’s hold was loosening, and just like that, it flashed away from you.

⋆

A sudden lurch forward, your body was thrust through a white light, eyes closing at the intense brightness. You fell roughly on your knees against a hard surface, hissing at the contact. Upon opening your eyes again, you half-expected to be back on your kitchen floor, back on Earth. But as your vision cleared, instead of the ceramic tile flooring beneath you, there was dark rock and dirt. A tingling sensation ran down your arms. You lifted your hands, palms up, watching as blue sparks of lightning flickered between your fingers, eager to shoot out at anything you commanded it to. But things felt different this time. You weren’t simply watching a memory anymore; you were living it.

Part 4 here!

Note: I must admit, I'm very eager to post the next part. I hope I can edit and have it up within the next two days. Thank you again to everyone reading!

#halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #halsin fic #halsin fanfic #halsin ficion #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin imagine #halsin x fem!reader #halsin x oc #bg3 x you #halsin bg3 #halsin

70 notes · View notes

dolcettamagica · 7 months

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

tags: degradation, daddy kink, videocall-sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sexting notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.7k

Finally you arrived home, your steps heavy with exhaustion yet tinged with relief. With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility seemed to lift as you approached your doorstep. Unlocking the door, you stepped into the comforting embrace of your sanctuary, where the warmth and familiarity of your home enveloped you like a soft blanket. Sighing deeply, you kicked off your shoes and let the tension of the day melt away. Settling into your favorite armchair, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquility of home wash over you, yet you were restless.

Your fingers reached into the pocket of your coat to pull out the cigarette Sukuna gave you, his number written on it. “Hm…”, you took off your coat, letting it fall next to you on the ground. “Should I really?” Flashes of the previous event came rushing back into your mind – the way his fingers wrapped around your neck and his hot tongue pushing into your mouth. That kiss alone made you incredibly wet.

You saved his number under “Boss (Private)” and stared at the texting icon. It would be so easy and besides, it's just a text. He couldn’t fuck you over phone anyway.

Hello, this is y/n.

Eager little girl. Texted me as soon as you came home?

Dumbfounded, your eyes analyzed his (instant) reply.

Don’t worry, princess. Not judging you. Bet your pussy is still wet. My cock didn’t go soft either.

Excuse me? This is highly unprofessional.

No, me fucking you bend over your workdesk would be highly unprofessional. Answer me: Is your pussy still wet, little one?

You should've known that it would end up like this. You shouldn’t reply. You should tell him that this is inappropriate. Remind him that you are his secretary and some may deem this interaction as unethical and not to forget that you are years younger than him. Why was it so hard to stop though?

Yes, Mr. Sukuna.

From now on you call me daddy.

Yes, daddy.

The sudden ring of your phone shattered the atmosphere. Surprised, you glanced at the screen to see a Facetime call flashing urgently. Sukuna was calling you. The surprise sent a jolt of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you. nervous anticipation fluttered in her chest like a caged bird. For a moment, uncertainty swirling in your mind. With a deep breath, you accepted the call, your heart pounding in your ears. The familiar face that greeted you was enough to send a surge of desire coursing through your body. Despite your nerves, the thrill of your virtual connection stirred something primal within you, heightening your senses and leaving you longing for more.

“Wish you could see your face right now. You look like a needy slut, princess”, Sukuna snickered. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, exposing his upper-body. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw it. He had–

“Like my tattoos, huh?”

“I-I just didn’t know that you had any.”

Smirking his finger traced the black lines across his chest. His phone was probably leaning against something cause you could see almost everything up to his knees. Even the way he was sitting, his legs spread and a hand wide on his thigh, screamed dominance and sent shivers down your spine.

“Wanna see more of you, baby, put your phone somewhere. I need to see your face and what’s between your legs. Can you do that for daddy?”

Every bit of self-control and resistance left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. It’s no wonder that every woman and man wanted him buried deep inside their guts.

“Yes, daddy”, a simple good girl fell from his lips as he watched you propping your phone on the table in front of you against a water bottle. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect, princess. You’re such a good slut for daddy, aren’t you”, Sukuna’s hand, which was previously on his thigh, was now on his crotch, grabbing onto his hard on, “Undress, baby girl.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. With a subtle yet deliberate motion, you reached behind your back, fingers deftly finding the tiny buttons that held your blouse together. With each successive button undone, the fabric began to loosen, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the soft skin beneath. As you slipped the blouse and bra off your shoulders, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, the cool air caressing your exposed flesh. In that moment, you felt an exhilarating rush of vulnerability, a silent declaration of self-assurance and desire. You weren’t going to stop now so you silently took your skirt off, wiggling it off your hips. The only thing you were wearing now was your thong. And Sukuna’s eyes were sitting on you the whole time, taking in every little detail. Your trembling hands, your moles and freckles, everything.He could feel himself almost bursting through his pants. At first he wanted to make you beg to see his cock but he was hard ever since you crawled over to him. Swiftly he unzipped his pants, just to give his cock a bit more space.

"Obedient little slut. Look at you, just taking your clothes off, obeying my words. Makes me want to ruin you even more, little one.”

The plan to forever reject him and never succumb to him was already forgotten. How could you ever reject him when he gets your pussy this wet?

“...I’m your slut, daddy”, it was a mere whisper but Sukuna heard every word.

Growling he pulled his cock out of his boxers. It was massive. Sukuna spit in his hand before he wrapped his rough hand around his shaft. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets. His cock would destroy you, fill you up completely and turn you into a whimpering bitch in heat. YOu were certain of that.

“Come on, princess. Spread your legs for daddy, show me how wet your pretty pussy is”. His filthy mouth had you stifling a moan as you lifted one leg to rest against the back cushions of the chair and spread the other so that your foot rested on the floor.

“Li-like this, daddy?” God, this was embarrassing and extremely hot at the same time.

“Yes, baby, just like this”, he stroked his cock from tip to base, the other hand now palming his balls. “Now lick your fingers and rub that clit for daddy. Bet you wanted me to do that back at the bar, huh?”

You did as instructed, dragging the tips of your index and middle fingers across your tongue slowly before lowering them to your pussy, seeking your clit. Instantly your legs began to twitch – he was right, you wanted this all along.

“That’s it, little one. Fuck, imagine it being my tongue. I should’ve played with that sweet cunt after you crawled to my feet like the dirty slut you are.”

Breathy moans filled the air around you, your pussy clenching, yearning for something big to stuff it.

“Daddy…fuck, daddy”, Sukuna was still stroking his cock as he took in the alluring sight on his phone, “G-good…feels so good, Daddy.”

“Look at my cock, baby. I’m imagining that cute mouth wrapped around my fat dick. Like that, slut?”

“Yes, daddy, yes. I love it, daddy.”

His hand twisted around his tip, pre-cum leaking already. “Squeeze your tits, pinch your nipple,” he growled. “That’s my fuckin’ teeth, slut. I can see your naughty pussy clenching through the screen. You need something in there, right? I should be pounding into that cunt, take what’s mine.”

“Please”, you started to beg, primal urges taking over you, “Please let me put a finger in, daddy.”

“Shove those fingers inside. As many as you can fit. Tough it would never compare to me pushing my dick in that tight cunt of yours. You think you can take this cock, huh?”

Finally you pushed your fingers inside. Your pussy was wet enough that your fingers met no resistance at all. “Y-yours…yours is too big. Would break me.”

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. My cock would fucking break you, fuck you real good, make you my personal fucktoy. Look at me, slut!”

Sukuna was pumping his dick to the same speed as you were fingering your cunt. This was driving you insane. He demanded you to pick up the speed, both of you did.

“Keep fuckin’ that pussy. Yeah, just like that. Go faster. Use your other hand – rub that clit again. Tell daddy how much you want his cock.”

“Want–Want daddy’s cock…I want daddy to–to fuck my slutty little pussy, please. Need daddy’s cock.”

Sukuna could feel his climax coming, his balls pulsating, something building up inside him. If only you were in front of him, begging for him to ram into you and choke you while you whimpered and cried for sweet, sweet release.

“How far are you, princess?”

You couldn’t reply with words, only strangled cries as you climbed higher. You hooked your fingers to drag across your g-spot, fucking yourself so hard that the squelching sounds could probably be heard from beyond the door. Your cunt contracted around my fingers once, hard. “Ahh…cl–close, daddy.”

“Shit, me too,” he groaned. “Fucking look at me when you cum, slut.” Sukuna started stroking his cock faster and faster while he continued to massage his balls. You swirled faster and harder as you pumped your fingers in and out of your wet cunt.

“Oh fuck daddy!” you cried, rolling your eyes back to his face as you felt your muscles tense.

“Good girl,” he breathed, looking directly into your eyes. “Cum for me. Do it.”

And, then the tension and pressure released all at once, making you scream “daddy” as the waves rippled through your body. Your cunt clenched your fingers rhythmically and you continued to finger yourself through the aftershocks.

“Fuck – shit, here it comes!” Sukuna moaned seconds before thick white ropes of his cum spurted from his cock to land on his stomach as he bucked up into his hand roughly. “Fucking finally.”

Moments later you were still panting as Sukuna gave you one last order before ending the call.

“Don’t wear any underwear tomorrow at work and come in early.”

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen

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wasteland-wrecker · 2 months

Note

ily..... sorry if you've ever answered this but have you ever drawn modern au gage and toby? or do you have hcs?

Hey there! <3

I’m not a big au fan but… here we go! ✨

Thank you for asking, I have this big headcanon:

Gage is not so good in bed. He is probably a virgin, let me explain you why.

🔞🔞🔞

From what we know about his past and the way he talks I'm pretty sure he's never had s3x with anyone or at least no long-term, positive experience.

Lines like "…you wouldn’t want nothin to do with me, not with the fucked up life I’ve had” denotes he is AWARE of the cruelty of the world he lives in. He has seen shit his whole life. I don’t think he had the time to even think about s3x.

Or “I ain’t never done anything like this. Ain’t sure it’d work, you know?”

When you ask him about your relationship he says “… I don’t like talking about feelings and shit. We’re… we’re great, you know that”. Zero experience, come on.

This means he gets embarrassed and that he’s worried about other people’s opinions (which is quite strange for a wastelander and a raider) one of his lines is like “if I die killed by a bug, tell everyone I accidentally stomped on my gun and killed myself”. (Yeah, who cares???)

And, speaking of raiders, he’s lived his whole life as one of them and when he talks to you (a complete stranger!!) in private he calls them “fucking raiders” (you okay man?! Need to talk or something?!).

It seems clear that none of these raiders have ever made its way into his sensitive little heart. He’s faking, pretending to be something he’s truly not.

And I don’t think he’s ever had anything to do with settlers. I can’t even imagine him r4ping someone, from that point of view he has a strong integrity (at most he’ll piss on your corpse ✨)

No one has ever made him feel safe, he says that to you when he opens up. Gage must completely trust his partner to have s3x with him/her/them. He must be sure he won’t be betrayed or killed.

And his past makes it clear that he no longer trusts anyone, apart from himself.

I might also add that the fact that he doesn't take baths indicates a sort of disinterest in the subject.

Gage often complains during trips and it means that he worries about stuff (like rads, chems, alcohol, bad smells - yeah he does I can prove it).

Do you think someone so attentive to what surrounds him and the consequences of his actions wouldn’t care about sexual diseases and sleeping with just anyone? I’m sorry but I don't see it.

He surely m4sturbates often, I can agree with that. He has very indecent thoughts as well and he’s horny af. He probably likes it rough, yes. (He loves to read erotic books OF THIS I’M SURE 10000%) But don't come and tell me that he is a S3x Lord Master or something because I have an hard time believing that (surely with a good experience he can become one, but not when you first know him).

Last, but not least, let’s not forget the fact that his name’s GAGE and he wears a fuckin CAGE all the time (to keep people away from him). The end.

Alright uh, my hand slipped on this hc lol, let me know if you want more anon and I’ll answer you in another post 😭 (shorter I promise) or you can read this post

#psychoanalyzing fictional characters is good or bad #fallout 4 #porter gage #porter gage x sole survivor #gage x sole #sole survivor #gage #fallout companions #gage fanart #Toby #ask #gage x toby

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Text

Rebel

Prince!Kylo Ren x Cage Fighter!Reader

Summary: Prince Kylo was a rebel at heart. His grandfather, Emperor Anakin, was on his final limb trying to groom the boy into becoming a good Skywalker, but it seems he was too preoccupied with things outside his duty to care.

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: fem!reader, alternate universe, slight modern/contemporary world au?, royal family-ish au, enemies with benefits?, smut (sadism, dom/sub dynamic, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, light bondage), kylo is going through a phase ig, yucky smoker!kylo (don't smoke pls), slow burn, typos, etc.

A/N: Felt like cross posting this on AO3 also minors dni you guys arent ready for this because I'm not ready for this HAHAAHHA my brain farts are real. also if there's anything wrong with my star wars lore just roll with it ok it's the beauty of my au world HAHHAH <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

"Put that out before father sees you."

Kylo looks over his shoulder, pulling away the cigarette from his lips as he blows smoke from his lungs. He looks at his mother and sighs, "my father or your father?"

Leia eyes her son, "Ben-"

"Kylo," he corrects, taking another puff of his smoke.

The crown princess narrows her eyes and with one flick of her finger, the barely burning cigarette shoots out of his fingers, across the hall.

"Bro- what the fu-"

"See," she places her hands on her hips, "you would have been able to stop me if you trained with Luke more often," Kylo's mother offers as she leans into him and sniffs his rank smoker odor, brushing him off as she did.

Leia's son, who towers over her, cringes as he is pat down harshly.

Leia notes, "you reek."

"Stop it," he quips as his shoulder is swatted with way more force than necessary. Kylo curls his arms over himself in protection. She does not relent, and so he calls, "mom!"

Leia sighs and places her hands on her hips, "no, you're right," she looks up at him, "I should just let the emperor catch you," she raises a finger, "and let's be honest. Even if you trained more with Luke," she turns about, " you still wouldn't be able to best me."

The woman marches off, mentally noting to rant to her son's father about him.

Kylo grunts as he watches his mother walk away. By the time she reaches then end of the hall, Kylo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He pulls out his sleek, silver box of cigarettes and grabs a stick. He turns around as he begins to light the thing lazily pressed between his lips.

He doesn't get to though. His fire is burnt out by the ominous snippy atmosphere and his lighter slips through his fingers.

Immediately, the cigarette falls after, down to his boots and he grows frigid at the sight of the slouching man before him, hand propped on a cane, face concealed in a dark mask.

"Emperor. I-"

"Continue to disappoint?" he speaks through the constraint of his mask, not even raising a finger to get both the fallen objects on the floor as well as the one in Kylo's hands.

The emperor chucks out those hazards through the window, using so much Force that it probably propelled out of orbit. Kylo internally begins to sputter out curses.

"Why are you roaming here in the gardens, killing your grandmother's flowers, boy?" the old man demands, breathing heavily.

Kylo gulps and clenches his hands into a fist.

"Are you not meant to be training with your uncle?" Anakin quips, taking a deep breath as he slowly walks past his grandson.

Kylo tenses and steps aside to allow the emperor passage. He knows better than to do so, and yet he still offers, "do you want some hel-"

"Do you have a death wish?" Anakin wheezes as he heads to the arch in the hall, not even sparing his hulk of a progeny a look. He would have beaten his ass in his prime, he thinks, as he makes his way into the palace garden.

Immediately, Anakin feels a Force around him. He basks in it and Kylo can feel it too, though he thinks the Force is coming from his mother's father.

Anakain swears he can smell the scent of his beloved Padme in this moment. He mentally debates taking his mask off, but decides against it, knowing his child's child will throw a hissy fit, then his actual children will throw another hissy fit.

Kylo does nothing but watch the old man walk off. He thinks of the few memories he has with his grandmother then goes terse all over again when he hears a shout, "GO TRAIN, BOY!"

Kylo releases a breath, "yes sir."

Anakin, after a long while, finally reaches a bench and sits down. He looks at the flowers in the shrubs and bushes around him. He breathes in deeply, as deeply as his mask will allow him then closes his eyes. He pretends he was not himself, rather that he was his younger self. He thinks about his wife and how he would have plucked out a flower for her in this moment.

"Oh, Padme," instead he sighs, "you're grandson is a rebel, my love. I don't know what to do with him," he opens his eyes, "but you would have."

Kylo, at this point, had successfully fled the wrath of his forebears, and was now at the garage, readying his air speeder. He ruffles his black, baggy jeans with infinite pockets and feels his key eventually. He jumps in his vehicle and finds another box of cigarettes in his compartment.

"Thank you, Kylo," he mutters to himself as he gets another stick of nicotine.

He lights his cigarette as he waits for the garage door to open.

But then came a high-pitched beeping noise, and he immediately pulls away the lit stick in his mouth.

R2-D2 rambles on and on in his dings and buzzes in a scolding manner.

Kylo's ears ring. Fucking droid. He rubs his ear then turns to his side. He watches as the robot nears rolls back and forth as it chastises him.

"Can it, tin can."

R2-D2's light becomes red.

Kylo clutches his steering wheel, "if you rat me out to grandpa, I'll turn you into a museum display."

R2-D2 flares even more at the threat.

"Well, I don't give a shit if uncle Luke is waiting for me," he snips back, staring his engine, then driving off. He raises a hand, "later, loser."

R2-D2 loses its marbles.

Kylo drives deep into the capital city, the part that was more commercial and had less military presence. But really, the old man's reach was felt throughout the galaxy. It'd be a matter of time before his fun is over. That's why he intends on having as much fun as he possibly can.

He aimlessly roams for a moment, driving through streets he frequents, and some he doesn't recall he's ever been. He leans on his side and feels the wind blow back his jaw length hair. Then he finds himself parking in a coincidentally free spot on a busy street.

It's destiny, he thinks.

So, he pulls up in the edge of the street and hops out of his air speeder, aimlessly walking around. He pulls out his comms device and sends a message.

From Kylo: where u?

He shoves his comms back in his pocket, keeping his hands stuffed there, knowing he wouldn't get a response from his friend any time soon. He walks to the edge of the street, stops right at a pedestrian lane, then crosses once the light turns green.

As he struts past a conveniece store, he turns to his barely visible reflection and runs his hands through his hair. The street grows increasingly busy as he continues. It's packed with people on the daily their commute, off to work, to school, or to wherever they ought to be. With every being that passes him, human, alien, droid, or otherwise, he slowly feels the paranoia seep in him.

He rubs his nose, 100% sure that that old lady was whispering about him.

He was being watched, he was being looked at, he was being talked about. A work hazard, something you deal with as royalty. He likes to pretend he's better than that, public opinion doesn't matter to him, but he isn't a very good pretender.

He clears his throat, pulls out the shades he always kept handy on him, and puts them on. Suddenly, he's not as paranoid.

In truth, if you knew the faces of the Skywalker clan, not even these large glasses would stop you from recognizing him. But still, he felt better with them on. The only reason he probably did was because the little boy in him still believed the words of his father.

Ben had been 4 or 5 at the time, and had been struggling with the attention from the general public and the press. Han Solo had gave him shades, the very same one he had now, and told him when he had them on, he'd be invisible. It helped that his dad, mom, and uncle were in on it and pretended he was when he'd wear them. The servants were quick enough to follow suit. His grandfather though, ever the cynic, never played the game with him, and always told him to put the ridiculous thing off.

He figured then of course the emperor could see him. He had superior connections with the Force.

Kylo crosses the street.

A group of school girls catch sight of him and stare as he walks by. Once he's gone, they squeal and gush over how handsome he was.

Kylo feels his comms vibrate.

To Kylo: At work. Can't come.

Kylo snorts, then turns to his side when he smells an alluring savory scent. He sees the burrito stand and walks over as he replies.

From Kylo: im getting burritos

Kylo walks to the order window and decides he'll get what he always gets. The employee begrudgingly walks over to the window and leans on the table by the window, "Good morning," she says flatly, "what can I get you?"

Kylo examines at the bandage she has on her brow and the swollenness of her cheek. He knows it'll turn blue soon, but he doesn't say that, "two classic burritos, one of them with extra radish."

She nods and then punches up Kylo's order on the register, "12 credits."

Kylo pulls his head back, "12? It's 4.50 each."

"Not anymore for a long time," she mutters in response, shifting in her spot.

Kylo lets out a breath, thinking it's a ridiculous price, but pays 12 credits nonetheless.

He receives another message.

To Kylo: No.

Kylo snorts yet again at his text mate. He moves to the side and waits for his order. In the meantime, he looks around the block, thinking of what else he can do to amuse himself.

From the corner of his eye, he spots the sign The Death Star, and chuckles under his breath. He uses his Force to try and see what exactly this death star was, and then quickly realizes it was a cage fighting arena.

Kylo smirks.

From Kylo: come to 12th street. we're watching a cage fight in the death star :D

Kylo turns around when he hears his order get called out. He says quick thank you to the man who gives him his burrito. He looks at him and his pudgy form, then examines his knuckes before he pulls away. He spots, seeing no bruise on them. He definitely wasn't the one who punched the lady that worked here.

Kylo then crosses and heads to The Death Star. He looks at his comms one last time before heading for the entrance.

To Kylo: ????

"Moron," he chuckles to himself.

He reaches The Death Star, finding it had a small entrance with guard big enough to block it whole.

"50 credits," the bouncer says to him.

Kylo looks at the man. He was twice as big as the one who worked at the burrito shop. Still, Kylo thinks he could take him.

"Why so expensive?" he asks.

The bouncer rolls his shoulders back, "you got a problem, peasant? Then leave."

He does not like that. The bouncer was on the steps leading up to the door, which was why he was about as tall as Kylo. He wonders if he should force choke him and walk in, but then he feels a buzz from the comms in his pocket and is snapped out of it. He pays the over-expensive door fee then walks in, eating his burrito.

"Just keep walking straight then go down the stairs," the bouncer says, "you can't miss it."

He doesn't miss it. He immediatly spots the stairs, finding it went both up and down. Kylo looks up in curiosity. He figures if he instead went upstairs, there would most definitely be someone there waiting him to throw him down. He simply just descends with his burrito.

Once he reaches the only place the stairs lead to, he surveys the setting, wondering why there were chandeliers and drapes in this foyer when he knows once he gets to the area where the crowds were screaming, there would be a semi-large cage and audience members hollering for blood. Weird.

But then again, his grandpa lived in a palace and he was out for his blood.

He takes it back. It's fitting.

He continues to walk, chewing on his food, then get into the arena, at the very edge of it. It seems the round just finished, considering the reaction of the crowd.

Kylo promptly finds an empty spot, then sits down as he watches the cage get swept. It looks like a droid was shattered after the match.

He chuckles when he imagines it being R2-D2.

It takes a few minutes for the next round to commence, and by the time it does, Kylo's burrito was finished.

At this moment, he pulls out his comms and sees he's received multiple messages. He grins when he sees the one that confirmed that he was, in fact, going to be seeing his friend here at the death star soon.

There is a loud announcement suddenly, and the crowd goes wild. Soon enough two competitors are announced, and Kylo perks up and tilts his head when he sees the face of one of them, you, the burrito lady.

Kylo, is so stunned that has to push his shades down to see if he was seeing clearly. Yep. Still 20/20.

There you were, standing no longer in your burrito-stand uniform, but in fitted shorts and a fitted tank top. You had wraps in your hands and feet, and the marks on your face made total sense now.

Kylo leans back on his seat and pushes his shades up.

You got them from your cage fights.

He finds himself smiling.

Interesting.

"- with 27 wins and 2 losses-"

Hmm, an impressive record.

Kylo cannot help but to cheer with the crowd as it screams for you after you are introduced. An interesting name you had. He'll have to remember that.

Both you and your opponent's hands are raised just before the start of the match.

The prince nods his head and thinks he will enjoy seeing you win or lose today.

Halfway through the match, as Kylo is screaming for you as you bash your knee into your opponent, who was, mind you, twice your size, he is grabbed my the arm and ripped out of his focus.

Kylo turns annoyed then breaks into a smile, speaking loudly over the audience' noise. "Hux! You're just in time." Kylo hands the man the burrito with extra radish, then turns back to the cage, "burrito girl is really good!"

Hux takes the burrito and looks at Kylo, then the cage. The dark haired man clenches his hand into a fist and cheers as the round is called to an end.

The red haired man pulls his head back after beholding the collective protests.

"AW WHAT! SHE TOTALLY WON THAT ROUND!" Kylo snarls against the announcement that your slimy alienoid opponent was the victor for round 3.

Kylo sits back down and cross his arms. Hux sits down next to him and gives him a look, "you're insane, you know that right? D'you know what would happen to us if someone-"

"And you're boring," Kylo retorts, running his hand through his dark locks.

Hux holds back his eyeroll, and shakes his head instead. His ginger, gelled back hair reflects the glaring spotlights in the room. Hux unwraps his burrito and takes a bite, crossing his legs as he did so.

Kylo turns to him, mentally noting he appreciated he came to him right after work, the give away being he was still in uniform. Hux's sharp shoulder pads starkly contrasted the softness of his frumpy sweater, though they were both black.

"Extra radish," he points.

Hux nods and rolls his eyes, "yes," he chews, "thank you, Ben."

Kylo glares at him.

Hux chews some more, then corrects himself, "Kylo."

Kylo turns away, looking back at the cage.

The next round promptly begins and Kylo is visibly excited. He talks over the loud cheers of the crowd, "we're going to meet her after the round."

Hux knits his brows as Kylo stands to his feet and claps for the competitors.

"Meet? Who?"

"Her!" Kylo points to the cage.

Hux looks.

"I paid 500 credits to have her company to ourselves later," Kylo says with a fond smile.

Hux nearly chokes on his burrito, "you what?!"

He is dutifully ignored for the rest of the match.

When the match does end, Hux thinks of Kylo's decisions even more poorly. The prince is incredibly sour, as the match did not end in favor of this burrito girl as he had gotten fond of for no other reason than that he is compulsive.

Hux does not know if he should be mulling over the fact that the girl, who lost the match on a technicality, worked part-time at the burrito shop that made the delicious snack he just ate, or the fact that Kylo, in all his temper and moodiness, was about to meet her when he was extremely disappointed and very emotional over her loss.

Hux, though he knew about Kylo's explosive tendencies, doesn't dare offer to just leave though, considering he basically made himself homeless by paying so much to meet the cage fighter.

That would be funny though, no? A homeless prince.

When Kylo and Hux are let in the back room, the two turn to each other, seeing the poor conditions of the place.

"500 credits dude," you say, standing from the spot you were sat on.

Kylo takes in the cuts and bruises in your form, agreeing with himself that, considering the violence you exacted and received in the ring, you looked extremely well, and came out mostly unscathed.

"You should have won that round," Kylo says shaking his head. He watches as you smile softly at his words. He feels his chest flutter and decides he enjoys the subtleness of your expression. He would love to make you react the same way again, "that thing outnumbered you with his six arms."

You shrug, toned shoulders glistening with sweat and ointment. Now that he was up close, Kylo could see how fit you were. He licks his lips when he catches your barely visible navel.

"A biological advantage," you retort, "it's not like I can ask him to cut off his arms for me to make it fair."

"Still," Kylo raises a finger, "you should have won."

You shake your head at his words, offering another smile, but no further reply.

Hux surveys the dingy room, thinking if you worked at a burrito stand and a cage fighting job, you must be desperate for credits. He turns to you and straightens up, "you know, with your skills, you could do well as a trooper," the commander says, "you would be paid well, given lodging, health care-"

"So you are an imperialist," you place a hand on your hip and point to him.

Commander Hux tenses. Kylo chews his bottom lip as he holds back a laugh.

I mean, Hux was very visibly an imperialist.

"I thought you just liked imperial fashion on whole other level," you add.

Hux finds himself getting defensive, "is that a problem?"

You tilt your head, "liking imperial fashion or being an imperialist?"

Kylo pretends he's offended and knits his brows, speaking at the same time as his friend, "both."

You look between the two and shake your head, "no. It's just weird to see an actual, I don't know, officer from the regiment spectate a match."

Hux narrows his eyes, "why, is this place illegal?"

You snort, and Kylo beams at the idea.

"I wouldn't have joined this troupe if it was."

Kylo is mildly disappointed, but more so amused by the topic that was spiraling and how Hux was reacting to it. Kylo turns back to you when you point at him, "I remember where I know you from."

Hux feels slightly agitated over the idea the prince was going to be recognized.

Kylo smiles and adjusts his shades, "yes, you took my ord-"

"History class, 204, professor Djarin."

"..."

Hux pulls his head back and looks between Kylo and you.

Kylo is dumbfounded. So much so, he takes off his shades, "you went to Naboo Public State?"

You promptly laugh upon seeing his brown eyes, knowing well how much he rolled them at your shared history teacher, "yeah. Djarin called you Skyslugger cause you were always late."

Hux internally cringes, agitation level skyrocketing, because that does sound like something that would have happened to him in school. That meant, you knew exactly who they both were now, which meant, if you wanted, you could happily talk about how a commanding officer and the prince of the empire went to your cage fight match at a place called The Death Star, and paid 500 credits to speak with you after. Lord, he could already hear General Leia's disappointment in his head.

Kylo snorts, though he was more annoyed at the memory than amused, "damn Din Djarin."

"You never graduated, did you?" you ask.

Hux turns to Kylo, wordlessly telling him not to answer that.

Kylo does anyway, "I didn't, no. Parent's pestering me to re-enroll."

That's enough, Ben, Hux thinks loudly.

You tilt you head, "maybe you should."

Hux turns to you and presses his lips, "hear that, maybe you should!"

Kylo turns to him as Hux slaps his hand on Kylo's shoulder. He glares at Hux, "no."

A beat passes.

You look between the two, "so, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Hux instinctively turns to Kylo, prompting you to do the same.

"Well," Kylo starts, leaning onto one leg, crossing his arms.

Hux recognizes this behavior and then makes a face.

"I honestly wanted to just talk about how I think you deserved to win, and perhaps," he moves slightly closer to you, "to invite you to hang out with us."

Hux shakes his head and raises his hands, "count me out. I have places to be."

"Just you and me then," Kylo smiles softly.

Hux rolls his eyes, he was right. Another day, another plaything. He so very much wants to leave now.

But then, Hux catches the way your face twists. He finds his lips curling into amusement as you furrow your brows. You are clearly uninterested, and suddenly, he is glad that Kylo paid 500 credits just to be here. His rejection will be sweet and deserved.

"Your payment for a meet does not extend to outside endeavors."

Kylo nods, leaning towards you more, "oh, I know. Just wondered if you would be interested in getting a drink."

"Well, I'm not."

"Interested in getting a drink?"

"In you, Prince Ben."

Kylo's face twitches. Hux clears his throat to hold back his laugh.

Kylo doesn't have anything else to say and it is hillarious.

Another beat passes.

You shift in your spot as Hux turns around and laughs in his hand. Kylo rubs his nose and straightens up.

"Is that it?" you ask.

Kylo turns to you, ire beginning to burn, "what?"

"Is that all you wanted?" you clarify, waving a hand. "I mean, you paid 500 credits, I can show you around the place if you like."

Hux turns back around and smiles, "oh, please, do. That would be lovely."

Kylo clenches his jaw, "no. I saw everything I needed to see already."

Hux makes a soft oof sound and indulges himself with a chuckle.

"I'm a force user," Kylo says, "I used my Force Sight to see."

"Ah," you nod.

Hux turns to you and nods, "I stand corrected, I think we will both be leaving now."

You purse your lips and shrug, "suit yourself."

Kylo releases a huff. You knit your brows when he nods to you in regard, "burrito girl."

You blink at him, "500 credits dude."

Hux watches as you curtsy at Kylo. He shakes a hand and his head, mouthing, "he doesn't like that."

You straighten up and watch as the two then walk out of the room.

"Oh, if you ever want to apply as a troop, tell them you were recommended by commander Armitage Hux."

You raise your brows at that, "your name is Armitage?"

Hux makes a face at your expression, "what? Why?"

"Nothing it's just, you don't look like-"

"Hux, let's go."

You turn to Kylo, who just walked out of the room.

"Just call me Hux, everyone calls me that."

You purse your lips then nod.

"Goodbye then," Hux waves and follows after his friend.

As Kylo and Hux exit the room, then the arena, the latter notes, "well that was fun."

Kylo ignores him.

Hux chuckles, "oh, come on. She was a good fighter. You said it yourself."

Kylo grunts.

"I especially enjoyed it when she defeated you."

Kylo glares at Hux. Hux grins from ear to ear.

"Do you want me to demote you?" Kylo groans.

"You can't demote me, prince Ben," Hux says a-matter-of-factly as they climb up the stairs.

Kylo eyes Hux as he ascends before him then uses his Force to make him trip on the steps.

As Hux nearly faceplants, barely catching himself with his hands as he crashes down, Kylo steps over him and continues climbing up.

"BEN!"

Kylo hisses harshly, "don't call me that."

Kylo leaves Hux, deciding he deserved it for being annoying. He thinks he'll go get drinks by himself since no one cared to keep him company.

He nearly breaks his comms after all the ruckus it made while he was brooding in a booth at a lounge he frequented. He doesn't destroy it though. It wasn't his to break. It was a gift from his uncle. His mother refused to get him a new one after breaking countless ones before this one. Luke made him swear to keep it intact.

Kylo abandons his booth to get himself another drink after finishing his nth cocktail.

This time around, with his tiny martini glass in hand, complete with a paper umbrella, he decides he's going to dance, even if he was tipsy and, frankly, hated dancing, especially those folkdances his mother and grandmother taught him and made him do every moment they could. Fuck that shit.

Kylo puts the umbrella stick in his hair just by his ear and chugs his drink as he walks to the crowded dancefloor.

He raises both of his hands and sways his hips on beat as he sifts through the creatures dancing to insanely loud music.

He randomly taps someone's shoulder and hands them the glass, which they stupidly accept, allowing Kylo to break it down and boogie freely with no glass to think about. Only his dark glasses.

By break it down and boogie, of course, I meant Kylo was flailing his head and arms around, pivoting his shoulder and belly to the music. Was it good? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

He feels a bunch of people come onto him, grinding on him or dancing with him. He lets them. When they tell him they should take their dancing somewhere else, he refuses.

Eventually, he's turned down a bunch of people and is left alone.

With his forehead damp with sweat, he exits the dance floor when the music changes to something slow.

He decides to get himself another drink.

"Never knew you had that in you, Ben."

He cringes before he even sits down. He turns to the woman in a pink dress next to the stool at the bar he was about to sit on. He feels his brows pull up at the sight of her.

"Don't call me that, burrito girl," Kylo quips as he calls for the bartender.

You furrow brows further, leaning on the bar top, "call you what? Your name?"

Kylo is served another cocktail, the only one he ever orders, without needing to say it. He thanks the bartender as he downs his drink.

You raise your brows at him, watching some of the liquid spill from his corners of his mouth.

Kylo turns to you, wiping his lips, "don't call me Ben."

You blink, "so... you want to me to call you 500 credits dude?"

"Kylo," he retorts, as he racks his brain. He can't seem to remember what he's looking for though, so he asks, "what was your name again?"

You give him a once over before responding.

When he hears your name, Kylo shakes his head, thinking, truly, the only time he heard it was during the match earlier today, "I really don't remember you."

You chuckle, "yeah, more so now than ever."

Kylo looks at the bright pink dress on your body and thinks it looks good on you, "you change your mind then?"

You take a sip of your drink and turn to him, "what?"

"You come here knowing it's where I'd be?" Kylo leans forward.

You raise a brow at him, "no. I came here to meet someone but I got stood up."

Kylo chuckles, "serves you right."

"Excuse me?" you tilt your head.

Kylo grins and stands, "you're excused."

Kylo walks off and heads for the dancefloor again even though the music was still slow. Why? Because fuck it. He was down to slow dance with strangers.

You take your turn to survey Kylo as he drunkenly moves to the dancefloor. He was incredibly large and even through his baggy clothes, you could tell he was quite athletically built. You turn away just before he catches you looking.

The entire time he dances, Kylo's eyes isn't closed like how they were a while ago. He was looking at you, faced to the bar, hunched over in a pretty pink dress, waiting for no one.

Pathetic. You should be dancing here with him.

He dodges a two headed alien that asks if he wants to have a good time and walks back to you.

He calls out your name and grabs your arm, making you turn to him from your seat with a glare that would have intimidated him, but he was drunk, and he could so take you... in more ways than one.

"Forget about that loser. He's not into you. I am. Dance with me."

You gotta hand it to him. He is confident. But then again, it'd be embarrassing to be in line for the throne and not be.

You take a moment to wonder how Kylo could possibly know you were waiting for a guy then decide he was just good at guessing, not that you looked pathetic right now. You pull your arm out of his grasp, "haven't we established I don't like you?"

"Yeah," Kylo scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, "well, I don't like you either."

You narrow your eyes at him, "why do you want me to dance with you then?"

"Because this is what lounges are for!" Kylo flails his hands out, "not for sulking."

You roll your eyes at him and turn away.

Kylo raises a finger and uses his Force to spin you around. When you realize this is what he did, you stand and look up at him, eyes devoid of any amusement, "you know, I don't care who you are. You're seriously pushing your luck right now."

Kylo enjoys a good conflict. He shakes his head the way drunk people do and raises a finger, "if you're going to waste your time waiting on someone you already know stood you up, wouldn't it be better for him to walk in on you having so much fun rather than looking miserable?"

You clench your jaw at his words and tense when he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the dance floor.

This time, you do not refute him, though you drag your feet on the way.

"Only to make him jealous," you say, walking close to Kylo.

Kylo makes a gagging sound, "how corny of you."

You shove him back, and Kylo is taken off guard by how strong you actually are. He collides into a group of people, who promptly shove him back towards you. You grunt as you catch him, keeping him upright.

"You're wasted," you hiss.

Kylo grins, "no, I'm Kylo."

You roll your eyes, pushing him away with less force, then turn around and leave him there.

Kylo grabs your arm before you can walk away any further .To his surprise, you do not repel him and easily fall back into his arms.

"We're meant to dance not to-"

Kylo shuts himself up when you speak a name that is not at all his.

He lifts up his eyes and sees a man looking at you with contempt. Before he can think, you shove him away and walk over to loser. The man eyes Kylo as you walk with him.

Kylo feels a headache coming on. He just stands there in the middle of the crowd, sticking out like sore thumb with how large and unmoving he was, waiting for the headache to come. To his luck, it doesn't.

He decides to go to the bathroom then settle his bill.

He busts open the men's bathroom door, cringing at the sound of moans that come to a halt when he enters. He quickly washes his hands and walks out, pulling out his comms device, sending a message to multiple people to have him get picked up.

He decides to drink some more as he waits.

He downs about three more cocktails before paying his dues and coming to terms with the fact no one was going to pick him up.

He sighs and drunkenly gets out of the lounge, gracelessly bumping into some people along the way.

He is surprised to see a pretty pink dress when he gets out to the curb.

Kylo calls out your name and hears you gasp.

When you turn to him, he swears he sobers up a fraction at the sight of your red eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He coughs and shifts on his spot, "you want me to kill him?" He points to no where.

You knit your brows and cross your arms, "what?"

"I can kill him for you," Kylo mutters.

You make a face and shake your head rapidly, "are you insane?"

"Yes," he mutters, "I don't like it when girls cry over guys-" he brushes his nose, "-s'why I don't date."

For a prolonged moment, you stare at Kylo, at this drunken Ben Solo, second in line to the Skywalker Empire, the same one who laughed at your joke that one time during lunch. You feel incredulous to the events that has transpired.

You weren't shocked that he didn't know you from university. For starters, he was a chronic repeater, turned drop out, which was insane to think considering he let the class copy off his exams, setting a new curve because of how many of them aced that test.

Ben Solo was the cool kid with bad habits, and he hung out with troopers in his spare time, which meant he didn't really know anyone beyond his circle.

And this Kylo persona was just the same as the Ben you once knew. Bigheaded, loud, and rebellious, with streaks of genuinity and thoughtfulness who wouldn't expect from him.

He was a loose canon in other words. This was why you didn't like him, why every time people would gush about him, you'd let yourself think opposite because nothing ever came out of liking a guy like him.

You ask through your clogged sinuses, rather out of context, "why can't I call you Ben?"

Kylo runs his hands through his hair, the umbrella he left there falls on the floor, "cause I don't like him."

"You don't like Ben?"

He shakes his head, "don't wanna be him."

A group of people exit the lounge the next moment, prompting Kylo to walk over to you to make way. You narrow your eyes at his answer and wipe your face. He probably meant he doesn't want to assume his roles as a prince.

You find yourself chuckling.

Everyone's got their own thing, you think.

"You're drunk," you mutter, making him turn to you.

"I'm Kylo," he repeats once more, making you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I got that, prince."

Kylo grumbles, looking away from you, "shut up."

The word triggers you, because the man you thought you loved and would love you back just spoke the same words to you a while ago. You look at him, emotions flaring up all over again. They manifest in rage and contempt, "no."

Kylo turns back to you, face fully annoyed.

"It's the truth, isn't it?" you stab, "why do I have to shut up about it?"

Kylo shakes his head and let out a deep breath. The smell of alcohol makes you pull back, "now I really don't like you."

You scoff, "well I really don't like you either."

"I didn't even do anything to you," he raises a finger, "and you rejected me?" he retorts in full offence.

You pull your head back at his words.

He begins to trail off, "what? Was I a jerk to you in uni? I wouldn't have been because I barely talked to anyone there, so I know you're just being spiteful."

Is he really on about that? You make a face, "have you never been rejected before."

"Of course I've been rejected," he sputters out, "just not without unfounded reason."

You cannot believe what you're hearing, it was like this moment really was a reply of your earlier encounter.

"Are you trying to say I'm being senseless?"

Kylo scoffs, "I'm saying you getting dumped is the universe balancing itself out."

You let out a dry laugh, "wow," you step on his foot, making him reel back in pain, "asshole!"

Kylo nearly topples over as he pulls his leg back and grunts, "you little shit!"

You very much walk away after that. You manage to storm to the edge of the street before you can't move at all anymore.

It takes the honking obnoxious sounds of Kylo coming near for you to realize it was all his doing.

He comes over like a siren, screaming out in the otherwise quiet street, "give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you out into orbit right now."

You turn to him, feeling just a fraction of a tinge of fear rise up into because he was from a line of powerful Force users after all. But then you remember Ben Solo was all bark and hardly any bite. You scoff, "well, for starters, I don't think you could even if you wanted to."

Kylo laughs. It's honestly pretty dark it makes your skin break out with gooseflesh.

"If you could, you'd have done it by now-" you choke on your last word. Literally, Kylo force chokes you up until he gets close enough to press his hand on your throat.

In all honestly, you were in a damning situation, and yet you were more focused on the way he licked his lips, grit his teeth, and rubbed his fingers on your skin. That, and the fact that you still could actually breathe through the pressure he was putting on you.

You felt your stomach roll.

He pulls you close to him, and before you can think of fighting back, he uses his force to keep your body pinned in place.

He releases you altogether and gives you a once over, "don't underestimate the things I can do."

Kylo looks at the cut on your lip, drawn over with lipstick. He thinks of licking the color off, "the things I want to do to you."

Your heart skips a beat. You huff, hands shooting to his sides the moment he releases you from his Force hold.

His other hands comes to your neck. He tilts your head up at him.

You heave, "and what do you want to do with me... Ben?"

He hisses, "put out that glint in your eye," he steps forward, pressing his fingers into my scalp, "make you beg."

You feel your stomach roll.

It amplifies when Kylo traces the injuries on your face with his fingers.

Needless to say, Kylo was wholly surprised but fully pleased when you got back to your place and didn't put up much a fight against him.

He was a kinky fucker, making you get on your knees, making you do his every whim, making you call him sir.

You figured pretty quickly that he probably craved to be in control, considering how bossy he was. Kylo figured the opposite for you, considering how readily you were to be told what to do.

He fully enjoys making you undress him, especially with all the lip worship you gave on his burning skin. He half regrets making you undress yourself, considering how satisfying it was to see you strip. He would have loved it more had he done it himself. Maybe next time.

He massages your body the moment your bare. He makes it a point not to press on your bruised skin, but then the inner sadist in him felt his insides ignite at the whimper that left your lips when his hand brush over your swollen hips.

"Kylo," you moaned as he kneaded at your sides while he trailed kisses down your sternum.

He lifts his head, smirking as you tugged at his hair, asking for his attention.

"Yes, my sweet?"

With you pressed beneath him on your bed, you buck your hips upward into him. He feels his cockiness double with your neediness.

"I'm gonna have to hear you beg, baby girl," Kylo muses, "that's our deal."

You whimper, "please."

Kylo is insufferable. He grabs your bare thighs and pulls them apart, rubbing himself in your already sopping heat. He pouts, feigning confusion, "please what?"

"Please, sir," you whine.

He laughs, asking again, "please sir what?"

"Please, sir, do something."

How desperate. Adorable.

Kylo sighs and nibbles on your breast as you tighten your legs around him, "hmmm, let me take my time."

Your soft flesh reluctantly retreats out of his mouth as you force his head off you by lifting it up. Your nipple is grazed out of Kylo's teeth as you shimmy beneath him, pushing your way down against his wishes, wanting nothing more than to be aligned on him.

You want to be a brat? Game.

Next thing you know you're paying your dues, pressed on your knees, hands bound to the bed with his belt as he lets your needy core drip down your parted thigh as he barely touches you with his fingers.

"One more time," Kylo coaxes as you sob and whine.

"I'm sorry, sir," you sigh in defeat, eyes watering at the edging.

Kylo shushes you, though he laughs and shifts behind you. Your body jolts you feel him grab your hips that have been tirelessly hanging in the air, waiting for this very moment to come to pass.

"Now, remind me what you want again?" Kylo says as he brushes the tip of his length against your entrance.

You let out a pathetic cry, feeling your core flutter in anticipation. You desperately cry out his name.

He appreciates it, but it isn't an answer. He tells you this exactly.

"Need you," you mutter, "need you to fuck me."

Kylo's ego is through the roof. "Need me to fuck you?" he repeats, though he does not give away how much that strokes his ego.

He does not forget your lack of respect though, "where's that sir, baby?"

You nearly sob as you repeat yourself, "need you to fuck me, sir."

You let out a lewd noise when you feel him slowly push into you.

You immediately try to fuck yourself onto him, but you're too delirious, and he's too strong for you to follow through. Kylo locks you in place, pulling you tightly against him, "hold on, pretty girl. Don't ruin this for me. Need you to calm down and take me well."

All you can do is pull at your bounds, further helping the bruises form there for visibly.

"Kylo," you groan in an empty threat and desperate plea.

"Okay, okay," he chuckles, slowly beginning to move.

You graciously moan in response.

He immediately quickens his pace.

Your noises grow louder.

Kylo wonders about your neighbors. He smiles and decides he doesn't care though. The next moment he thrusts into you so punishingly, as if it was a punishment. But no it felt so good.

Your bodies slamming against each other makes your bed creak in distress as it, itself, ruts into the wall behind its headboard.

You drool on your arm as you breathe hotly against it.

Kylo drives you further into insanity by rubbing into clit.

Needless to say, the next thing you know, you're making even more of a mess and your legs begin to give out as he continues to brutalize into your tenderness.

You come around him with a frantic cry and feel your body quake and tighten around him.

The ripples of ecstasy continue to ride out and heighten when Kylo comes inside you, pouring all his heat, frustration, and want into you.

He basks in your wetness the way you bask in his hardness. Your toes curl and your air leaves you. Kylo's rigid thrusts continuously grow sloppier.

A few moments pass and you both go putty.

You very much remember going for a less intense, more intimate round two after, with him leaning against your headboard and you maneuvering up and down him as your chests pressed together. You very much also remember Kylo curling into you later that night.

What you don't remember was ever kissing him, or feeling him get up to leave the morning after.

So it was a big fuck you when you saw him later that day, with his stupid ass shades in the middle of the afternoon as he whimpered over a ticket.

You made a mental note of the make and plate number of his air speeder next time he makes a mistake of parking it here.

The truth was, Kylo had been waiting for you at the burrito store, not knowing you didn't have a shift that day, and once the pudgy guy, a funny guy honestly, name Marley, told him he couldn't loiter there, he bought a burrito and asked where you were. Marley told him that you didn't have a shift today, so then he made Marley promise to pass a message to you. Kylo trusted him to tell you that he wanted to apologize for leaving.

That fucking summit earlier today was so fucking boring.

And Marley did mean to pass the message on, it's just that he forgot after taking so many burrito orders.

So it came as an even bigger fuck you when Kylo came to your match that same day, cheering you on.

What you wouldn't do to have him trapped in this cage with you.

You made it a point to tell the guys at The Death Star, not to let 500 credits dude anywhere near your changing room later that day, nor to let him in the place again, in fact, unless he was willing to pay 500 credits as a door charge.

So the next day, guess who wastes 500 credits trying to get into The Death Star for absolutely no reason?

Kylo does.

You didn't even fight that day.

The day after that, he has half the brain to go to the burrito stand again instead.

You nearly lunge at him and the stupid shades propped on his pointed nose through the window when he says, "you made your guy charge me 500 credits as a door fee?"

"Sorry, I only do burritos here," you quip back, "don't know what you're talking about."

Kylo brings out some units, "20 burritos then," he raises a finger, "I'll give a tip only if they're made by you."

You growl at him, nearly swatting the credits off the window sill, "the fuck do you need 20 burritos for?"

"I have a family!" Kylo calls back.

"And you're their burrito provider?" you scoff back.

"I am, actually," Kylo growls, "this is the only place in the capital that has nice burritos!"

Marley overhears this and pushes you aside, "why thank you, Kylo."

Kylo turns to him, clearing his throat, "it's not really a compliment. It's my opinion."

Marley beams, "and a great one! You know, I've been meaning to tell you, you look so much like our star prince, Prince Ben Solo."

You watch as Ben Solo cringes and waves his hand, "trust me, we look nothing alike."

You scoff at him.

Marley doesn't get to refute that as suddenly, he remembers something and turns to you, "oh," he gasps, "that reminds me. Kylo was here when you didn't have a shift and said he wanted to speak to you."

You pull your head back, "what?"

Kylo's eye twitches, "wait, are you saying you didn't pass my message to her?"

Marley turns to Kylo, "well, I was stacked up with burrito orders-"

The ding of an alarm from behind you indicates that you no longer have to listen to him, as your shift just ended.

You're not dealing with this.

You immediately hang up your apron and promptly leave, heading out the back, trailing down the narrow alley.

Before you could even reach the end of the exit, you jolt back when you see a heaving Kylo run up to you and block your passage.

You glare at him, watching his adam's apple bob as he gulped. You, yourself, gulp at that.

"I had to leave because I had a duty early in the morning," he rushes out.

You huff and push past him, shoving him back. Again, he forgets about your strength, not that he remembers much about that night beyond your sweet sounds, and is shocked when he nearly topples back.

Kylo does feel something familiar with how he uses his Force to keep you from walking away.

"Kylo, I will fucking deck you, I swear to--"

"I didn't think of leaving a note because I panicked and I'm an idiot."

Kylo circles around you and raises his hands in surrender. He accepts the consequence of you decking him if you really meant to once he removes his Force hold.

You sigh deeply, but don't bash his head against the pavement. He is grateful for it.

"So," Kylo starts, "do you still hate me?"

You narrow your eyes at him and scoff, "what is that? An apology with no apology?"

Kylo watches you walk off and chases after you, not at all convincingly responding with a, "I'm sorry!"

To be fair, even he could tell that he sounded more confused that apologetic.

"Take a hike, Ben."

Kylo growls. He pulls his shades off and manages to stand in front of you. He clenches his jaw and points with his glasses, "you know what. I hate you too."

Your face contorts. You scoff, "great," you force a smile, moving on.

He blocks you again when you sidestep, "you have made me spend thousands of credits in such a short span of time."

You sidestep once more, only to have him block you.

"I never asked you to do any of that!"

"So you're not sorry," Kylo narrows his eyes.

"Not at all," you gleam.

"Then that fucking does it!" he barks.

You look up at him as he seethes.

He steps forward, "you hate me, cause I'm an dick, and I hate you, cause you're a bitch."

You let out an incredulous laugh and feel your insides rage.

You grab him, intent on seriously hurting him, but it seems he anticipates it and grabs you right back then spins you over. He pushes you against the wall of the dingy building, pinning you against his body.

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

You can feel your heart hammering in yours.

Neither of you can tell the other felt the same.

"Let me go, you fucking-"

"But I'm sure you can't say fucking without thinking of me fucking you, huh," he mutters under his breath as he brings his face near yours.

You tense at his words. You feel your breathing strain after.

Kylo's lips barely curve.

Defiantly, yet halfheartedly, you mutter under your breath, "fuck you."

He leans in and rubs his nose against your ear, "that can be arranged."

When Kylo releases you, you shove him back and walk off.

He heaves as he watches you storm away. He releases a breath in annoyance and licks his lips, finding himself gritting his teeth at his shoes. He got all worked up for nothing?

"Hey!"

Kylo lifts his head

"You better keep watching my matches," you say, turning to him as you walked back, "I get a cut from the door charge."

Kylo shifts in his spot. He does not show how he is pleased to know you want him to come to you again, "that 100% markup is cruel."

You shrug, "well, I hate you, so..."

Kylo holds back his laugh, "you'll pay for that, pretty girl."

You ignore the way your stomach rolls at his pet name. "Make me," you mock, turn away, then walk off, "see you, Ben."

Kylo scoffs, "oh, I'll make you."

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