#of course had to tag the figures in his life that come to MIND when hes suffering over the terror and bliss of being loved and cherished

[droaxa]

✧ tags: yandere cheater x reader pt. 2

✧ warnings: violence and force, yandere behavior, descriptions of dismemberment, blood, stalking, police, nsfw content, kissing, angst, smut, breaking in, attempted murder, cuts, dead dove, probably more stuff

✧ a/n: my most requested fic at the moment! i decided to take some of your suggestions and add my own twist at the end + yandere name reveal!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

yandere cheater wrestles you into his car after he drags you outta the cafe you’re in, unyielding as you try to pull away. the second he shuts the door and jets to the drivers side, you force yourself out the door and sprint down the street.

you hear his yells as you increase your speed, you knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun him for long. not only was he more athletic than you, but a look back revealed his terrifying expression. he was clearly set on catching you, having the advantage in his relatively relaxed clothing opposed to you, who was dressed for a date.

knowing you couldn’t beat him you came to a sudden stop of to the side of the sidewalk and he rammed into your side. stumbling back a few steps you stopped him. eyes wide and hair blown back, he looks at you mildly surprised.

“wha-” you interrupt him this time, taking advantage of his surprise by slapping a hand over his mouth.

you bring on an expression that you think is intimidating, “leave me the fuck alone, i don’t know what the hell you want but i’m not taking you back”

he scoffs like he has you all figured out, taking your hand off his mouth to reveal a smirk underneath. “guess mother dear will find out about your… escapades then”

smack!

you slap him across the face sharply, sound reverberating around you and leaving a tinge of red on his cheek. his mouth gapes as he looks back at you even more surprised, what happened to the mild mannered girl who he had cheated on dated?

“release those anywhere and i will fuck up your life asshole” you fume, hand still in the air as if to threaten him for another slap. “you’re the one that decided to cheat on me with every girl we knew. fucking own up to it”

you were sick of his shit, who did he think he was? you huff out a quiet fuck off as you pass him, shoulder bumping against his. as soon as you rounded the corner you sprint to a nearby parked cab, slamming the door on your way in.

“to the university dorms please”

yandere cheater runs after you too late, rounding the corner as you take off in the cab. poor baby, you were still hung up on him cheating? he didn’t even really like those girls anyway, they weren’t good for anything except their bodies.

but you, you were it for him. he’d do anything to see your cute smile again, to see you whimper on his cock. he felt his swollen cheek, your anger may come in the way of him proving his love, but you’d understand in the end. how deep his love ran. all he had to do was prove was that those girls meant nothing.

two weeks had passed, two long peaceful weeks. your ex finally seemed to give up, the barrage of text messages and calls diminishing to radio silence and constant gifts at your doorstep suddenly stopping. maybe you were more intimidating than you thought.

the second you got home after the encounter, you had called your mother and explained everything. although she did yell at you for a solid hour due her disappointment in you sending out explicit photos of yourself, she understood your situation. after giving her instructions on blocking your ex if he tried to reach out to her you were finally at a peace of mind. at a zen. maybe you could turn a new leaf, you deserved it.

of course you had fucking jinxed it, just when you finally thought it was all over, your ex had tried to force himself back in your life again. deep down, you knew he wouldn’t give up that easy. he’d always be stubborn to a fault.

two weeks after the encounter a small navy present box appeared in from of your new dorm room door. still groggy with sleep you rubbed your eyes and picked up the box, bringing it inside. after contemplating for a minute, you finally decide to open it. in your sleep ridden state, you reasoned that it was probably something you’d left behind at your ex’s house.

it takes a minute to register the contents of the box, but when you do

“OH MY GOD”

you scream and stumble back.

two bloodshot green- brown eyes were pressed into the shiny white silk inside, the area around them a tinge of red. that alone could be passed off as a cruel prank by some immature students but the unmistakable metallic scent of blood lingering in the air said otherwise. that and the only other item in the plush silk: a silver bracelet with the initials ‘e.r’.

only one person you knew owned that bracelet and had those eyes, your ‘friend’ eva. but you had blocked and lost contact with her after you found her and your boyfriend together in the bathroom of the mall. there’s no way she would have just lost this bracelet either, you remembered her bragging about how it was permanent. being soldering together around her hand.

you were nauseous. oh god. you knew it was him, you just knew. sure you hated her but you didn’t want her to die. what the hell, what the fuck do you even do?

before you could think you grabbed your phone calling the only person you could think of.

“can you come over quick, please?”

20 minutes later a dark haired man rushed in through your front door, spotting you curled up in the corner. your eyes wide and still staring at the open box.

“(y/n) what’s going on?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly. you just point to the box and he takes a peek, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes shoot open “fucking hell…”

you turn to him, eyes teary “ray what do we do?”

ray was your one real friend through everything your ex put you through, and ironically your ex’s older brother. he was one that introduced you to your ex and thus he blamed himself for letting him hurt you, even though you’d reassured him that you didn’t find him at any fault.

he was reliable and kind, a shoulder to lean on when things got tough. you’d known him for almost two years longer than your ex and honestly if you didn’t meet your ex, the small crash you harbored for ray may have grown. after you met you ex you assumed that your feelings for ray had naturally died out but you couldn’t lie about the strange biting feeling in your chest whenever you saw him.

and even now he was talking care of you, taking you to the police station to talk to the police and turning in the bloody present. a few hours later you both were back in your dorm, sitting on the edge of your bed as you discussed the situation.

“look i really appreciate all this, you didn’t have to come with me to the station”

he smiles, “anytime (y/n), if it’s for you”

you smile back, face a little warm from his answer “that’s sweet”

he moves a little closer, your pinkies now you touching. “you’re sweeter, my asshole brother doesn’t know what he missed out on.” and you swear that you see his eyes flicker to your lips.

“really?” you ask coyly, leaning in slightly.

he nods slightly hesitant “if i had a girlfriend like you i wouldn’t dare disrespect her like that, i-i mean you’re thoughtful and pretty and-” he gets cut off as you lean up and press your lips to his. he immediately freezes up and you take his response as rejection, pulling away. fuck, he was obviously just being nice who even likes their brothers ex?

“i’m so sorry i though-” before you can finish apologizing ray’s lips smash onto yours, one of his hands in your hair to pull you closer and the other guiding your lips to his by your chin. in between heated kisses he mumbles,

“god i was waiting for so long,” a kiss.

“prettiest girl i’ve ever met” another heated kiss. his words of longing slur as he continues to kiss you, pulling you ever closer. his plush lips trail down your neck and to your stomach, slender hand playing at your waistband. his hooded eyes look up at you as his other hand wanders under your shirt. “can i?”

you give him a shy nod and he smiles, pulling down your pajama shorts to reveal white cotton panties. you cover your face with your arm out of embarrassment and he reaches out, keeping your arm down.

“wann’ see your pretty face, waited for it” you nod meekly and he flashes his dimples, continuing to pull down your panties and throw them somewhere behind him. your cute cunt, glistening with arousal was right in front of his face. fuck. gliding a finger up the slit, he watches as the slick from your pussy coats it. fuck.

an hour later he was in heaven, or at least you felt like it. buried deep inside your wet cunt as you moaned and squirmed under him

“ngh- fuck, so good fa’ me baby”

this was the stuff of wet dreams. he speeds up as he feels his orgasm approaching, praises and grunts slipping from his lips as he slams his hips against yours. soft skin against muscle, hot breath on your face from where he was above you. finally he pulls out with groan, wanting to stay buried in your warm. spurts of warm cum shoot up your stomach as he finally finishes.

ray collapses beside you, both of you sweaty and nude as you bathe in the afterglow. weakly, you smile at his tired form as you close your eyes, drifting to sleep in your warm bed.

bang!

you wake up with a start, wearing a shirt too big to be yours. must be ray’s. you look around the dim room and reach for ray, feeling nothing in the space next to your body. did ray… leave? that couldn’t be right. your bare feet hit the wood floor as you step towards your lamp and turn on the light. nothing.

you look around the bedroom and then head to the kitchen, turning the corner and switching on the light. immediately the kitchen floods with light and you gasp. the floor was tracked with blood, a trail leading from where you stood to your bathroom. was he hurt?! you cautiously approach the bathroom, a sharp metallic scent dominates your nose as push open the half open door.

“took a while to wake up didn’t you sleepyhead?”

your blood runs cold. it was your ex boyfriend. if the crazed grin in his face wasn’t unsettling enough the blood smearing on his cheek and splattered across his body sent alarms going off inside you. looking behind him you see the source of all the red.

ray. deep cuts run down his body, clothes shredded, and body half submerged in the now murky red water of the tub. on the tile floor next to him was your kitchen knife, covered in blood. without missing a beat you turned and sprinted to your bed stand, searching for your phone. there’s no way you would make it to the door in time, you needed to call the police and at least save ray.

haphazardly searching your bed and nightstand, you still can’t find your phone. where is it?

“oh lookin’ for your phone?” you turn to him. in his hand was the aforementioned object, light pink case looking uncharacteristically cute opposed to his blood-ridden form. “you’re a pretty deep sleeper hon, i mean i was rummaging around right next to you for this and you didn’t even hear”

“what are you doing raph?” you ask terrified, slowly inching away from him.

in response he approaches you, “what do you think? my girl runs off on me and the next time i see her she’s fucking my brother. you tryna make me jealous baby?” he leans in, expression seemingly amused but you knew better. he was pissed.

“and you’re wearing his shirt too” his large hand plays with the round collar of the tee, fingers ghosting over your collarbones.

“take it off”

eyes wide, you look up at him, “no i won-”

“take it off or he dies” raph’s face is dead serious, no traces of amusement left, stare burning into your face. “you want him to live right? i’ll call the police as long as you take it off”

you hesitate then slowly peel off ray’s shirt, letting it fall to the floor. raph had seen your body before right? it was a small price to pay for saving rays life. the action left you in only your cotton panties as you tried to preserve your modesty with your hands.

raph lets out a low whistle and steps forward, pulling you closer by the curve of your waist. chucking as you shiver due to his cold touch

“already forgot i feel baby? might needa reteach ya”

you look away from him, refusing to see the smug expression playing on his face.

at that moment you felt a wave of self hatred crash over you, why couldn’t you do anything about this? were you so weak that you couldn’t protect yourself, much less ray? but who were you kidding, you weren’t faster or stronger than raph. there’s no way you could get out of this situation with both of you alive without giving into raph.

raph places a rough hand at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. unlike his brother his touch was demanding and rash, the only purpose of it being to prove that you were still his silly girl. no matter how hard you tried to run away.

he coos at your troubled expression “where’s all that fire from before huh?” he grins at your submissive state, the one that he caused. “i’ll be nice, put your own clothes on. quick.”

was he playing with you? you take a look at ray’s shirt on the floor and then approach your closet under a guise of calmness, but a look at your shaking hands would disprove your confidence. putting on a bra, followed by a bottom and a top, then outer wear. anything to put more layers between you and him.

a look up at him reveals that he was already looking at you, probably to stop you from pulling another trick on him. he leans down to whisper in your ear but instead decides to press his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet smell. he mutters, face still in your hair “god i missed you” the sincere tone in his voice scared you the most.

he pulls away, expression distant and somewhat melancholy. “you know if you acted like a good girl from the beginning i wouldn’t have to do this”

before you can question him, his open right hand presses against your face, hard. the other hand supports your head to stop you from pulling away, body trapped. the bitter smell of something pressed on the tissue between your face and his hand floods your senses.

for the second time that night all your senses dull, and everything goes dark.

a/n: i know i know you guys wanted reader to get away from him! i just though this was more interesting then the reader getting back at raph and getting away with it. i like to make my yanderes stubborn loll. hope you liked the twist might write a part 3 ^^

[moondirti]

cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this

a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.

you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.

they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.

that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.

until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.

no one shows up.

not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.

but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.

at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.

“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.

“lieutenant riley.”

oh.

you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”

“wha’ a shame.”

lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.

“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”

“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.

this strange man is in your home.

this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.

he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.

(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)

“your… your room is on the left.”

he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.

so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.

whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.

you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.

the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.

not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.

of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.

“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–

riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”

then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.

the bar is in hell.

(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)

it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.

[next]

[gojoluvs]

J’adore

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

summary, “her world turned upside down when her boss announced that he was the father of her unborn child. As she navigates her new life as a wife and mother, she finds herself falling for her husband's best friend, Suguru Geto. But is it love she feels? or just a desperate attempt to be noticed by someone other than her husband..”

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, violence.

Genre; angst, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader, modern au!, business au!

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message.

10k words

masterlist ⤏ next chapter

it felt like a fever dream.

Your thoughts were racing as you sat there staring at the positive pregnancy test. You never imagined that a casual fling with your boss, Gojo, would result in this. You were filled with a mix of emotions - fear, confusion, and excitement all at once. You knew you had to tell Gojo, but the thought of his reaction scared you.

Would he be angry? Would he want you to keep the baby? These questions filled your mind as you tried to figure out the best course of action. Ultimately, the decision was yours to make and you knew it wouldn't be an easy one.

"Fuck." Grabbing a piece of toilet paper, you wrapped the positive pregnancy test and shoved it inside your pant pockets.

Immediately washing your hand, you exited the restroom to face your dear friend and co-worker. With her back against the wall, you could see her biting her nails in anticipation.

You could tell she knew something was wrong, as she anxiously asked, "What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, you slowly let out, "I'm pregnant." As the words sank in, you could see the shock and worry on your friend's face.

You knew this wasn't the ideal situation, but you also knew that you had a supportive friend by your side. Her eyes widened in shock, and she slowly began to walk towards you. She looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern, her mouth agape as she tried to process the news.

You could tell she was trying to find the right words to say, but in the end, all she could manage was a quiet, "Oh."

"I'm sorry, I can't believe this," she gasped, her eyes filled with worry.

"What are you going to do?" You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed and uncertain.

"I have no idea," you replied honestly. "I wasn't planning on this."

Your friend placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We'll figure it out together," she said with a reassuring smile. "You don't have to go through this alone." Grateful for her support, you took another deep breath and nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the fear and uncertainty. You began walking back towards the office while everyone was in lunch.

As an employee at the national elect industries estate that the Gojo's had owned, you were fortunate enough to work closely with Satoru Gojo, one of the most well-known and influential CEOs in all of Tokyo. Witnessing his leadership style first-hand, you found him to be an inspiring and motivating leader who always pushed his team to reach their full potential. Despite being just one of the many employees in the building, you felt valued and appreciated under Satoru Gojo's leadership. His positive and encouraging attitude made it a pleasure to work in the office and you always felt inspired after a conversation with him. It was an honor to be a part of the team.

Unfortunately everyone knew that Satoru was a sex hungry man. All he needed to do was just point at a woman and they would come running to him because everyone knew he was the most attractive man in the building. However, Satoru was not looking for love. He was focused on his career and was determined to be successful. No matter how many women tried to win his heart, he kept his eyes on the prize and refused to be distracted.

"Y/N." Seeing the tall white haired male you immediately grabbed the report you stayed up all night redoing.

Your heart raced as you walked towards him, clutching the report tightly in your hands. You could feel the sweat in your palms as you nervously approached the tall white-haired man. Despite your anxiety, you stood up straight and confidently handed over the report, hoping it would impress him.

You were relieved when he smiled at you, and you managed to smile back handing him the report you had worked so hard on all night.

"Here you go Mr. Gojo, I also decided to put the sales graph from last weeks advertisement," you said with a sense of accomplishment.

As he glanced through the report, you couldn't help but feel proud of your hard work.

You stood there, watching him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing and regret. If only things were different, if only you could share the news of your pregnancy with him. But you knew it was better this way, to keep your distance and avoid any potential complications.

You couldn't help but wonder what his reaction would have been, and if his parents would have accepted you and your child. But ultimately, you knew that this was the best decision for everyone involved. With a heavy heart, you turned and walked away, knowing that your secret would remain just that - a secret.

Despite your admiration for Satoru, you couldn't help but feel inferior to him. Being considered a low life and not as successful as him only added to this feeling. Your dad owned a small restaurant down the street where the building was, while Satoru's family lived in a lavish mansion. You were just a commoner and Satoru was like a prince. You had grown up in a small town, and Satoru had grown up in a wealthy family.

The differences in class between the two of you were stark and you were constantly reminded of your social status. You knew that his family wouldn't approve of the two of you together, and deep down, you knew that your relationship was doomed from the start.

"We should go eat, it's on me since your eating for two." Grabbing your arm she held it, you both walked towards the lunch area where the food was at.

Seeing the rest of the workers in the building you wondered who else Satoru had sex with. Knowing you weren't the only one because he once had a long lasting hookup with one of his secretaries but once his dad found out he fired her.

You were feeling uneasy knowing Satoru's history with other women. He was a notorious playboy, always looking for a new conquest. You couldn't help but wonder what his true intentions were. He had always been kind to you, but that could easily change if he got bored.

Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but be drawn to him, his charisma and charm were hard to resist. But you also knew that getting involved with someone like him could lead to heartbreak and disappointment. It was a risky game to play, and you weren't sure if you were willing to take that chance.

"Y/N?" Tilting her head you could see that Utahime was waiting for you to come back to reality.

Nosing you sat down with her, feeling overwhelmed by the thought of raising this child alone. However, you knew that you were strong and capable, and you were determined to give your child the best life possible.

You looked into Utahime's eyes and saw a reflection of your own sadness. You knew that she was feeling your pain and loneliness, and that you were in this together. You sighed and steeled yourself for the difficult road ahead, but with Utahime by your side, you knew you could make it through.

"Can you order me a sandwich please? I'm too tired to go," you said, feeling exhausted from the long day.

With a nod, Utahime quickly got up and left you alone at the table. As you took out your phone, you hesitated before texting Satoru. You knew he had a right to know about the child.

Taking a deep breath, you type out a message to Satoru:

"I need to tell you something."

After sending the message, you lean back in your chair and wait. You feel a mixture of emotions and fear of how he will react. You immediately got a text back. Surprised to see that Satoru would reply to you during a meeting.

The message said:

"What is it? I'm in a meeting right now but I can talk later."

You took a deep breath, relieved that he isn't mad and that you can talk to him later. You respond with a short message:

"Well, if that's the case, we can talk later then."

This way, you can both have some time to calm down and approach the conversation with a cooler head. Plus, it's always better to discuss important matters in person rather than over text.

"Here," handing you the delicious sandwich you've been craving all day, you took a bite. As you bit into the sandwich, the flavor of the freshly baked bread and the savory combination of ingredients made your mouth water.

The juicy tomatoes, crisp lettuce, and perfectly seasoned meat all came together in a burst of flavor that satisfied your hunger and left you wanting more. You couldn't help but savor each bite, enjoying every last morsel of this delectable sandwich.

"Mm! This is so good." Smiling she drank her coke gazing at you while you devoured the food like if you hadn't ate in weeks.

You were so focused on the food that you almost forgot about the conversation you two were having. You looked up and met her gaze, and you both shared a laugh. She said, "You really are enjoying that, aren't you?" You smiled and nodded, taking another bite.

"Mm... did you see that the secretary that Gojo supposedly had a thing with is back?" she asked you,pausing mid-bite.

"She's back...?" After nodding, you couldn't help but wonder why she returned.

The last thing you remembered was her getting completely humiliated by Satoru's father in front of the entire office.

"I heard supposedly he gave her a check of one million dollars to leave the boss alone. God I hate him." Utahime rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink.

You couldn't understand why Utahime harbored such strong dislike for Satoru. Maybe there was more to their relationship than meets the eye.

"Why do you hate him so much?" you asked her, curious. Utahime sighed and shook her head.

"It's not important," she said. "But I can't stand people who use their money to get away with anything. It's just not fair. It creates an unequal playing field and allows those with wealth to escape consequences for their actions, while others are held accountable. It perpetuates systemic inequality and injustice."

You could also agree with that, paying someone to leave their loved one is such a dick move. Before you knew it everyone was already finished with their lunch except for you and Utahime. You looked around the canteen and saw that everyone was watching you and Utahime, with some of them grinning and whispering to each other.

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, and you quickly finished your lunch while Utahime still calmly ate her food.

"Let's go, I don't want to get in trouble," you whispered urgently to your friend.

You both stood up and quickly made your way back to the office where everyone else had gone to work. Utahime gave you a questioning look, but understanding the situation, she quickly followed you out of the canteen. You were careful to avoid contact with anyone as you walked back to the office, feeling like all eyes were on you.

As soon as you arrived, you quickly darted to your desk and started to work, trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment you felt. Despite your efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being judged and the fear of getting in trouble for your actions.

You opened the first document and started typing, your fingers hitting the keys in a steady rhythm. However, as you continued typing, you realized that finishing the reports quickly would not solve the underlying issue that had been weighing on your mind.

You knew that you would still have to confront Satoru and address the problem head-on, no matter how much you wanted to escape from it. You took a deep breath and focused on completing the reports, determined to face the challenges ahead with a clear mind and a proactive attitude.

As much as you dreaded it, you knew it was unavoidable. You had been working late nights for weeks now and the stress was starting to take its toll. You felt exhausted and overwhelmed by the amount of work you had to do in such a short amount of time. You just wanted to take a break and relax, not have to deal with yet another deadline.

The pressure to come up with new ideas for the company to expand in the east coast was daunting and you were running out of creative energy.

You could say your position was important but it wasn't that much compared to what other people did. You wanted to be one of the members who would attend the meeting and present your own ideas without getting everything stolen from you. You had a role in the company, but your contributions were often overlooked or overshadowed.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and frustration. Wanting to be able to make meaningful contributions to the team in meetings and have your ideas taken seriously, but you knew you were far from that, especially now that you were carrying his child.

You wondered if Satoru's family would also give you a check to disappear, to act like you never had anything with Gojo. It was a harsh reality to face, but you refused to let it stop you from achieving your goals and proving your worth.

You thought of all the different scenarios that could happen, you felt helpless. You had come to the office to gain experience and learn from the best. But now you were in a situation you hadn't anticipated and you didn't know how to handle it.

You wished you had someone to talk to and get advice from, but you knew none of your colleagues could understand what you were going through. You had feelings of insecurity and fear. You were scared of being judged and looked down on by Satoru's family and his colleagues.

You felt that you weren't good enough, and that you didn't have the skills or the knowledge to make meaningful contributions. You were worried that if you stayed, you would be seen as a burden and a nuisance, and that your ideas would be dismissed.

"Y/N, sir Gojo is requesting your presence in his office." You were startled by the voice of the secretary, who you had only heard about before. Her beauty was even more striking in person - her long black hair cascading down her back and her piercing green eyes seeming to see right through you. Her pale complexion and rosy lips added to her ethereal appearance.

"Yes," you replied, feeling a bit flustered by her beauty. You followed her down the hallway to Gojo's office, admiring her graceful walk. She opened the door and motioned for you to enter, giving you a gentle smile before she closed the door behind you.

Looking out the window Satoru had his hands in his pockets. Snapping his head towards the door when he saw you enter. He smiled before walking towards you. His tall figure hovering over you. You hadn't realized despite your height, Satoru was super tall. You stepped back in surprise, taken aback by his sudden proximity, and your eyes widened as you looked up into his face.

His kind eyes twinkling and his lips curling into a warm smile. For a moment, you were lost in the moment, unable to remember why you had come.

"What did you want to talk about?" asked Satoru as you walked into boss's office. Grabbing his remote, he clicked a button and the window blinds slowly descended, providing more privacy in the office. He sat down and motioned for you to do the same.

You waited patiently for the right words, as he wondered what could be so important that they needed privacy.

Your mind was racing with all the possible outcomes, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. You fiddled with your hands, trying to calm your nerves, and felt the weight of the situation bearing down on you.

Would he support your decision? Would he be angry? Would he even want to be a part of this? The uncertainty and fear were almost suffocating. You mustered up the courage to meet his gaze, hoping for some sign of reassurance. But his expression remained stoic, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You knew Satoru didn't love you, to him you were just a one night stand. But you couldn't keep living in doubt, you had to tell him the truth.

A one night stand that screwed up and didn't use a after pill. You knew that the next few words that were going to leave your mouth was going to devastate Gojo. Maybe even ruin his life. But still, you wanted to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt. You felt like you were caught between a rock and a hard place. Gojo was so kind to you and you had grown to care for him deeply.

But on the other hand, Satoru was the father of your unborn child. You were unsure of what to do and what would be the right thing for everyone involved. You felt helpless and scared.

Despite the fact that you wanted to tell Gojo the truth, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't bear the thought of hurting him, knowing that the truth would have a devastating effect on him. You felt that it was better to keep him in the dark and live with the regret of your decision.

He was visibly anxious as he waited for you to explain the situation. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a tight line. He clasped his hands together, as if in prayer, and waited for you to break the silence. Staring at him you could tell he was concerned as to why you weren't speaking.

His blue eyes stared back at you waiting for you to tell him the news. You were hesitant to tell him the truth, but you knew you had to. Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to explain the situation. You could feel your heart racing as you spoke, and you could tell his expression was slowly changing as he heard the news.

You took a deep breath and finally spoke, "I'm pregnant." Satoru's face turned to shock and then anger, "You're lying," he spat. You knew this was going to be difficult, but you had to do what was best for you and your child.

"Im not lying," You said back. He was speechless, his mind trying to process what he heard. He was frozen in place, not knowing what to say or do. He was in a state of disbelief, struggling to comprehend the news. Finally, he managed to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, "Are you sure?"

His heart was pounding in his chest, as he waited for the answer. He felt like the room was spinning, the world around him a blur. He was filled with fear and disbelief, as he tried to piece together what he had heard.

His heart raced as he waited for a response. He had never expected to hear this, and he felt a sudden wave of shock and confusion wash over him. He felt like he was stuck in a dream, unable to move or think clearly.

"Yes, here," you said, taking out the small piece of toilet paper and unwrapping it, revealing the positive pregnancy test. Satoru's eyes widened as he grabbed it, shock and disbelief washing over his face as he tried to process the news that would forever change his life.

He couldn't believe that he was going to be a father, and the thought of all the responsibilities and sacrifices that came with it was overwhelming.

His face fell and he stared at you in shock before his emotions turned to anger. "How could you be so careless? Do you know what this means?" he yelled.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. You knew this was going to change everything and it was a difficult situation to be in. You couldn't help but feel guilty for causing this turmoil but you also knew that the truth had to come out.

With a heavy heart, you averted your gaze, unable to face the man in front of you. "I understand the gravity of this situation, and I know that I am not from the same social status as you. If you think it's best for me to leave and raise our child on my own, then I will do so."

He put a hand on his mouth before rubbing it on his chin. "Shit," he muttered.

You could tell he didn't want this pregnancy as much as you didn't want it. "But you took the morning after pill?" he questioned, staring right at you with concern in his eyes.

Despite his hesitation, you knew he would support you no matter what decision you made.

"I did," you lied, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "But it wasn't 100% effective." You both knew the risks, but neither of you expected it to happen.

“What do we do now?" you asked, looking at him for guidance.

"I don't know," he sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Maybe we should consider all of our options." You knew what he meant, but you weren't sure if you were ready to make that decision.

"I'll arrange a meeting with my parents as soon as possible and we can discuss what we'll do then. But... how far along are you?" Gazing at Satoru, you could see the doubt and suspicion in his eyes.

He didn't trust you and it was understandable. You couldn't blame him for thinking you might be using this pregnancy to ruin his life. But deep down, you knew the truth - that you could possibly be carrying his child, and that thought alone scared you.

"I don't know what you think of me, Satoru, but I'm not here to ruin your life," you said.

"I'm not sure how far along I am, but I do know that I'm pregnant, and that's why I'm here. I'm not trying to pressure you into anything, I just wanted you to know the truth and I thought it would be better to do this in person."

“Despite the potential challenges and complications, I am committed to taking responsibility for my pregnancy and raising our child. I understand that this may not have been part of our plans, but I believe we can work something out.” Satoru looked at you with a mix of shock and confusion.

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He just stared at you in disbelief, not knowing what to say. Finally, he managed to stutter out a few words. "Are you sure you want to keep it?”

"Yes i am, if you want me to I will raise this child but I need you to be here. My kid, our kid. Its not going to live without a father." Satoru could see the determination in your eyes. Clenching your fists you wanted for his answer in anticipation

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before turning to you. His eyes were heavy with emotion as he finally spoke.

"Yes, I'll stay. I promise. I'll be here for us and for our child." He got up and reached out, taking your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze.

It was a difficult decision, but you knew that the potential benefits for the child far outweighed the risk of getting your heart broken. You were determined to make sure that Satoru saw the potential of being a father and the positive impact he could have on the child's life.

You were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that this child had a loving and involved father figure, even if it meant facing rejection or heartache. In the end, the well-being and happiness of the child was your top priority.

"For now I want you to stay here until I'm done with my last meeting then we can head out and go to my parents mansion." You knew how much it meant for his parents to know about this. To be honest, you were so fucking scared right now.

You knew that this was not going to be easy, not just because of the child growing inside you, but because of the potential backlash from Satoru's parents. You were fully aware of the cultural and societal differences between your backgrounds and how it could be perceived by his family. Despite your fears and concerns, you nodded and agreed to his request, determined to make it work and put on a brave face. With a deep breath, you tried to calm your nerves and prepare yourself for the challenges ahead.

Closing the door behind him just like that Satoru went to another meeting leaving you with your thoughts. While you were grappling with these thoughts, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and guilt. The image of Satoru with his secretary kept replaying in your mind, making you question your own feelings and actions.

Would it be right to sabotage their relationship for your own selfish desires? These moral dilemmas left you feeling conflicted and unsure of how to proceed. As you sat alone in the office, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same between you and Satoru.

You felt a pang of guilt and sadness as you tried to push away the thought and focus on the task at hand. Closing your eyes you decided to lay down on the small sofa that Satoru had in his office.

Putting a hand on top of your stomach you couldn't really feel anything. You knew you were at least a few weeks pregnant. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, feeling the warmth of the sunrays coming through the window and calming your body. You felt safe and secure and couldn't help but smile, as you thought about the life that was growing inside of you.

You stayed there, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the comfort of the sofa, as your mind wandered through the possibilities of the future. You just wanted to savor the moment, to make sure you could remember it forever. You had taken the pregnancy test several times, but it was still hard to believe that you were actually going to have a baby.

You had so many questions - you were wondering if the baby was the size of a bean or if it was even smaller than that. You were filled with a mix of emotions - from excitement to fear. You were going to become a mom. Wondering how you were going to explain to your father that you got pregnant by your bosses you couldn't help but let out a sigh. You knew things were going to get more complicated now.

You had always been taught to do the right thing and you knew this was the wrong thing to do. You wanted to do the right thing and take responsibility for your actions but you were afraid of what your father's reaction would be. He had always been so strict and you knew he wouldn't approve of this situation. You felt so helpless and confused.

You were already in a difficult situation, having to work for a man that you felt attracted to and now being pregnant with his child. You felt lost as to how you were going to explain this to your father. What would he think of you? How would you even begin to explain what had happened?

“Oh yeah dad! I thought my boss was super hot and I slept with him and guess what? I'm pregnant!” Sarcastically you let out another sigh. You really screwed up this time. You shook your head and let out a deep sigh. You had just been telling your father about the problems you were having at work, and now this. You knew your dad was going to be disappointed in you. You could already hear the lecture he was going to give you.

However, you knew that you had to take responsibility for your actions and face the consequences. You hoped that your father would understand and support you, but you also knew that you needed to learn from this mistake and make better choices in the future.

You couldn't even tell your mother because she had died when you were born. Never being able to be raised with a mother figure you were all alone im this situation. You covered your face with your arm. Trying your best to forget about everything and just go to sleep.

Maybe a nap would help you process everything and get you in a better mood. You had so much on your mind and felt so alone. You had no one to talk to, no one to turn to. You wanted someone to just listen, someone who could understand what you were going through and be there for you. But there was no one, and you had to find a way to cope with your emotions on your own.

"How long was I out?" you groaned as you rubbed your eyes, still trying to wake up.

You were surprised to see Satoru standing there, wearing his casual black glasses and with his suitcase next to him. It was clear that everyone had already left the building and it was just the two of you. "Did I oversleep?" you asked.

With a deep sigh, you slowly stood up from the comfortable embrace of the sofa. You felt a dull ache throughout your body, as if you had been in the same position for hours. You reached up and rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the tension. Taking a deep breath, you rubbed one of your eyes with your other hand, blinking away the sleepiness.

Realizing that you must have been asleep for a while. Satoru replied , "Not too long, just a couple of hours. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you up." You were grateful for his thoughtfulness and couldn't help but smile back at him.

“You were asleep for three hours." Helping you up Satoru offered his hand. Taking it you thanked him silently before taking all of your stuff and leaving his office.

You checked the time on your phone and realized it was already past midnight. You had slept for the past three hours while Satoru was patiently watching you from his chair. You were embarrassed but grateful for his understanding and kindness. You thanked him as you gathered your things and made your way out of his office.

You walked outside into the parking lot, as you sat inside the luxurious Mercedes Benz, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place. Satoru barely acknowledged your presence as he started the car and drove towards his parents' mansion. It was clear that he was more focused on his own comfort and status, rather than making you feel welcome. Despite the extravagant surroundings, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

You took out your phone, your fingers gently tapping on the screen trying to send a text to your dad. Letting him know you might come home later than usual as you were going to meet Satorus parents. As you typed out the message, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. You couldn't resist the curiosity and ended up searching for Satoru's lover on Instagram. You typed her name into the search bar multiple times until you finally found her profile. As you clicked on it, you discovered that her name was "Asami Oba."

As you scrolled through her photos, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She seemed to have a perfect life - traveling to exotic locations, attending luxurious events, and surrounded by beautiful people. You couldn't believe Satoru was dating someone like her. It made you question your own self-worth and wonder what he saw in her that he didn't see in you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but continue scrolling through her profile, torturing yourself with images of their seemingly happy relationship.

However, it still bothered you to see the pictures of Asami and Satoru together. You couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, even though you knew she had nothing to do with the reason why he slept with you. It was a constant reminder that you were the other woman, and that their relationship was still going strong while you were left to deal with the aftermath. It made your stomach turn every time you saw one of their pictures with a caption that said "with my love."

The picture that stood out the most was undoubtedly the one featuring them in the Eiffel Tower. The breathtaking view of the iconic landmark served as a backdrop, capturing their joy and creating a lasting memory of their trip to Paris.

As you watched Satoru lost in his thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder about the consequences that would arise once his lover discovered the truth about your pregnancy. The situation seemed to hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and potential conflict.

What felt like forever finally had come to an end, you couldn't help but feel out of place as you stepped out of the car. The house was even more luxurious than you had imagined, the expensive cars and perfectly manicured lawns. Satoru's parents were known for their wealth and you couldn't shake off the feeling that you didn't belong there. You knew Satoru's parents were going to judge you for not dressing more formally, but you were too exhausted from work to change.

"Listen Y/N," he said before ringing the doorbell. His expression suddenly changed, as if a wave of desperation had washed over him. His eyes were pleading, his hands trembling.

"I'm warning you my family is very old fashioned," licking his lips, that's all he said before ringing the doorbell.

You could practically hear your heartbeat, feeling as if your heart was going to jump out of your body. As you nervously waited for the door to open, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of traditional customs and expectations his family might have. Would they approve of your relationship? Would they expect you to conform to their beliefs? The unknown made your stomach churn with anxiety.

As the door swung open, a small click sound could be heard. A man, who looked identical to Satoru but slightly older, stood in the doorway. He quickly glanced at his son before his eyes landed on you. Raising an eyebrow, he muttered a few words under his breath, "Oh god, your mother is going to be ballistic."

"Father, please." pleaded Satoru as he held onto your hand, almost crushing.

"Please come in, it's a pleasure to meet you. My wife is in the living room, so please have a seat there." Said Satoru's father, gesturing towards the living room. He was a tall and imposing man, his deep voice echoing through the spacious hallway. You couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated as you followed him inside.

The intricate details, luxurious furnishings, and spacious layout of the Gojo mansion left you in awe. It was everything you would expect from a wealthy family's home. As you walked through the halls, admiring the lavish decor and elegant architecture, you couldn't help but utter a soft "Wow" under your breath. While you may have seen similar houses before, there was something about the design of this one that was truly impeccable and breathtaking.

As you sat on the silky white couch, you were met with Satoru's mother's gaze. It was intense and piercing, making you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. She seemed to be silently judging you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and inadequacy under her scrutiny. You shifted nervously, unsure of how to react or what to say to break the tension.

"What's your name?" her strong voice practically echoed. Despite her age, she was still stunning, with striking features and an air of elegance.

"Y/N, it's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Gojo." You replied with a warm smile, trying to make her feel welcome and at ease.

"So, what business do you have with my son?" she asked, her tone icy and unwelcoming. "To be more specific, what do you want from him?" Her sharp gaze bore into you, daring you to give her an answer she didn't want to hear.

"Mom," he said, avoiding eye contact with his mother. "She's pregnant and the child is mine." Her gaze softened as she laid her eyes on Satoru, her future grandchild. She could see the worry and fear in her son's eyes.

"Are you sure it's your child?" She questioned, looking you up and down before sighing. Her disbelief was evident as she struggled to accept the news. Doubt and confusion filled her mind, unsure of how to react to this unexpected information. She took a deep breath before finally asking, "How can you be sure?"

"I'm not convinced that you are the father," she questioned, eyeing you up and down before letting out a sigh.

"Mom, she's the only woman I've slept with in a while. Please," he pleaded.

"Do you have anything to say to that?" she asked, her eyes fixed on Satoru's father who wore a disappointed expression. His son had made a mistake and it was clear that he was struggling to come to terms with it. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and it was clear that he had nothing to say in response.

"As long as it wasn't Asami," he said, your heart broke at the mention of his lover's name.

"I totally forgot about that girl," said his mother, chuckling at the memory of her. "She was so pretty, but unfortunately her background was not so great."

The atmosphere in the room changed as soon as her name was mentioned, satoru shifted his weight uncomfortably and it was clear that her presence had a profound effect on him. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and longing when her name was brought up.

Memories of their time together flooded his mind, causing him to nervously bite his lip. He knew he should move on, but the thought of her still had a hold on him.

"Well since you two are over here fucking and populating the earth like little bunnies, it's time for you to take responsibility for your actions," she said sternly as she interlocked her hands together. "I want you two to get married and commit to raising this child together." Her tone was serious and determined as she laid out her expectations for the young couple.

"Mother, I don't even know her that well, let alone love her," you side eyed Satory, seeing his eyes widen at the mention of marriage. You could tell he was visibly frustrated and not ready for such a commitment. It was clear that he needed more time to get to know this person before even considering marriage.

"You know her well enough to have sex with her, please Satoru, you're grown now." Shaking her head, she got up, "and I expect the marriage to be soon. Don't you know how ruined your reputation would be if they found out you got some lowlife pregnant?" she yelled.

"But Mother," Satoru pleaded, "I don't think I'm ready for marriage yet." His mother's face softened as she let out a sigh.

"I know, but it's important for our family's reputation. You know how strict society can be with these things." Satoru hung his head, knowing that he couldn't argue with his mother's logic.

This turn of events was completely unexpected for you. Marriage was never a part of your plans, and you never would have imagined that his mother would actually want you to marry her son instead of getting rid of you.

"I want you to be moved in his house by tomorrow," She said, her voice filled with anger as she glared at you. Satoru's father stood up and gently grabbed his wife's shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Let's go now, you know how you get with these things," He said, leading her away from the situation. It was clear that their heated argument was not something to be taken lightly.

You couldn't believe how quickly she had dismissed you and Satoru from her house. Your mind was racing with questions and confusion from the confrontation you had just witnessed.

Satoru held his head low, not wanting to look at you anymore. "Fuck," he mutterd between his breath. Satoru's expression was cold and distant, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of fear. You knew he was capable of hurting you, and it seemed like he was about to.

"Gojo," You said timidly, hoping to break through to him. But before you could finish, he roughly pushed you towards the car. You stumbled, your heart racing as you realized that you were completely at his mercy.

"What did I do wrong?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Why did you have to get pregnant and not her?" He spat at your face, and you couldn't help but feel like it was somehow your fault. Despite the hormones coursing through your body, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer and you broke down in sobs.

You stood there, stunned by his words. You couldn't believe he would say something like that, especially when you were carrying his child. The tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn't know if it was the hormones or if it was just you feeling completely overwhelmed and hurt by his words. How could he be so heartless and insensitive?

"I didn't think this would happen..." You replied, your voice trembling with nervousness. You couldn't believe that this was actually happening. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your stomach was in knots and you couldn't help but swallow nervously, unsure of what to do or say next.

"Fuck!" He yelled, frustration evident in his voice as he passed his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" He yelled, frustration evident in his voice as he ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Gojo, please." You pleaded, desperately clinging to his arm. But he forcefully pushed you away, his expression hard and unyielding. It was clear he did not want to be bothered, and you could feel your heart sinking with each step he took away from you.

"Get in the car Y/N," he said urgently, "I'm taking you home with me. I'll ask someone to get your things." Your heart dropped at his words. You knew you weren't even allowed to go home, to see your father. The thought of leaving him alone by himself was almost too much to bear.

"But Satoru, my father," you said, protesting as you opened the car door and sat inside. You were hesitant to leave without saying goodbye to your father, but Satoru urged you to hurry as the car started to pull away from his parents house.

"I don't care about your father, you're my soon-to-be wife. You will listen to me, Y/n." His eyebrows furrowed, he sped up.

You looked away and just stared at the window. Watching as you passed by buildings. The moon had come out, shinning down on you. You wondered if maybe life would be better if you got to be the moon - free to shine and roam the sky without anyone trying to control or dictate your every move. But the reality was that you were stuck in this car, with a person who didn't value your thoughts or feelings. You wished you could escape, but you knew that marrying him would only trap you further.

It seemed so peaceful and distant, away from all the conflict and tension happening in your relationship. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards the moon, longing for its serenity. But as you looked back at your fiancé's angry expression, you knew you couldn't escape your reality. You were stuck in this tumultuous relationship, always having to put his needs and desires above your own.

"But can I still see him?" You asked, your voice trembling with worry. Satoru let out an exasperated sigh, feeling frustrated with the endless stream of questions you had. "Yes, you can still see him," he reassured you, hoping to ease your concerns.

As you sat there, deep in thought, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Was this truly the right decision for you and your unborn child? The weight of responsibility and sacrifice weighed heavily on your mind. You knew that this child would inevitably cost you everything - your freedom, your happiness, and possibly even your own self. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to speak up and go against Satoru's family wishes. You were trapped in a situation that seemed to have no good outcome.

You anxiously bit your lip, dreading the thought of having to meet new people and make new friends. There was also the added uncertainty of whether or not you would still be working for your fiancée once you moved.

Not to mention the press and newspaper would get ahold of this new engagement. The Gojo's were almost treated as royalty here.

"Do you want to stop for food?" he asked, quickly checking on you before focusing back on the road.

"No."

"What about the baby?" he said, raising an eyebrow as he slowly put his hand on your stomach. "Our baby needs to eat too, Y/N."

You licked your lips proceeding to ask him if he could stop by a nearby fast food or just anything at this point. The last thing you ate was the sandwich during lunch.  He began driving towards the nearest place that sold Onigiri. To be completely honest you didnt have much friends beside utahime.

You were the last remaining original member of your team, and it was lonely at times. You missed the camaraderie and inside jokes that you shared with your former coworkers. But you were grateful for Utahime's friendship. Asami had joined two years ago. However, things changed when they discovered Satoru and Asami's affair almost a year ago.

It seemed odd that she would come back after everything that had happened. Was she truly that deeply in love with Satoru that she couldn't bear to be separated from him? Or was there another motive behind her return? It was hard to shake the feeling that something was not quite right.

You grabbed your phone once again only to be surprised to see so many people had followed you on social media. Confused you clicked on the news article that was labeled "Has the CEO of Berkshire found a new woman?"

You couldn't believe it - the news was spreading like wildfire. You had never expected your life to change so drastically after just one night out with Satoru. As you scrolled through your notifications, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and a little scared of the attention. You knew that this new attention could bring both positives and negatives, but you weren't quite sure how to handle it all.

"Satoru, there are already articles written about us." He parked outside the small restaurant.

Getting out he asked before leaving, "What do you want from here?" I'm not sure if it's worth the risk to go inside." Satoru hesitated, knowing that any action they took could potentially land them in even more scandals.

"Can you get me an umeboshi onigiri please?" He closed the door and walked towards the restaurant, leaving you alone in the car. You quickly dialed your father, hoping he could bring you an umeboshi onigiri as well.

"Hello Y/N? are you there?”

"Dad, I'm sorry for not answering your calls. I might not be able to come home today as I'm stuck doing paperwork at work. Please don't wait up for me, I don't want you to stay up too late." You could hear the relief in his voice as he responded to your message. It was important for you to let him know what was going on and reassure him that you were okay.

"Okay sweetie, just please let me know if you need anything," you said with a sigh as you said your goodbyes. Turning off your phone, you couldn't help but feel helpless, knowing that there was nothing more you could do to help.

Your mind was filled with a mix of emotions and insecurities as you read the comments on the Instagram posts of you and Satoru. You couldn't help but wonder what people were saying about you and if they were judging you based on your appearance. You looked around nervously, hoping to see Satoru inside. Thankfully, he was still standing in the restaurant, talking on the phone.

As you clicked through the comments, you couldn't help but feel hurt and disappointed by the harsh and derogatory words directed towards you.

"Shes way prettier than the other girl!"

"she looks like a commoner..."

"What a skank!"

You could already feel the fatigue and discomfort that came with being pregnant, and you weren't even showing yet. The thought of carrying a child for nine months and then going through childbirth was daunting and overwhelming.

Satoru came back with two onigiris, handing you one and keeping the other for himself. You quickly ate it, not caring if he judged you for having no manners in front of him. After all, you were too hungry to worry about etiquette.

"We're almost home yet so dont worry, I can ask my maid to make you something if you'd like."

"No thanks." you replied just wanting to go and sleep already.

The stars were shining brightly in the sky, and the moon illuminated your path as you made your way home. The cool air was refreshing after a long day, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the peacefulness of the night. As you drove, your mind drifted to the events of the day and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhaustion creeping over you. But the thought of finally being home, in the comfort of your own bed, kept you going. You leaned your head back against the headrest and let the darkness of sleep overtake you.

"Geto, did you hear what I said?" All Satoru could hear from the other line was laughter, making him feel frustrated and unheard. Despite his repeated attempts to communicate, it seemed like his words were falling on deaf ears. He wondered if Geto was really taking him seriously or not.

"No way," exclaimed Geto, who was currently at a business party on the other side of the world. "You got her pregnant? Talk about a major backfire!" He chuckled, amused by his friend's predicament.

He was about to ask for her number when his best friend called, desperate for his attention. Though he wanted to continue flirting with the hot chick, he reluctantly answered his friend's call.

"And now we have to get married," shaking his head, Satoru picked you up from the seat. His maid had helped him open the door to his house, and he was grateful for his strength.

"Hey man, I told you to just have a one-night stand with her, not to get her pregnant and marry her." Geto said in the other line, he picked up a pen and wrote down his number in the napkin handing it to the cute bartender.

" What about Asami? Isn't she the love of your life?" he asked teasingly, giving him a playful tone. “Have you told her yet?"

He slowly placed you on his bed, his gaze never leaving you. "Can you change her into something more comfortable?" he asked his maid, who nodded before closing the door behind her.

"I haven't told Asami," Satoru admitted. "She's still insisting we get back together." He grabbed a beer from his refrigerator and took off the cap with a small pop before taking a sip.

"But I don't think it's a good idea. We've been through this before and it never ends well." Satoru sighed, knowing that his decision would only lead to more tension and arguments with Asami. But he also knew that it was the right thing to do for both of them.

"I would pay to see her reaction, she's probably going to go crazy." With a sly smirk, Geto had already entered the bartender's contact information into his phone.

Satoru laughed and took a sip of his drink. "I know, but that's what makes her so irresistible," he replied with a grin.

"Besides, I like a little bit of crazy in my life." He uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "You should try it sometime."

Geto chuckled and raised his glass in agreement. "Maybe someday, but for now I'll stick to watching your crazy love life from the sidelines."

"Maybe next time I suggest using condoms," he began, but his laughter interrupted him once again. "Man, you're so screwed. I just know your old lady had a tantrum." His words were met with a bit of amusement.

"What about you and Shoko, huh?" Satoru asked, taking off his shirt and laying down on his couch with a beer in hand.

"You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately." His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"It's complicated," said Geto who was practically eye-fucking the bartender on the other end of the phone. The tension between them was palpable, and their relationship was anything but simple.

"Complicated my ass," he thought as he took a sip from his cold beer and smiled. "I bet you're already thinking of having sex with someone else."

“And you’re absolutely right.” With a smirk Geto made his way to her. Satoru was able to hear his whole conversation start to finish.

“You know what i’ll call you later, you have fun.” Satoru took one last sip of his beer before going to the restroom to shower. He turned off his phone and threw it on the sink before undressing himself.

He regretted the night it happened and wished he could take it back. The thought of you now made him cringe, and he couldn't wait to move on and forget about it. He didn't think he could ever find anything about you interesting, and he just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened.

He couldn't believe his luck - or rather, his misfortune - when he found out that his arranged marriage was to be with someone he barely knew. He couldn't help but compare this stranger to Asami, the woman who held his heart. He couldn't shake off the feeling that this marriage was a mistake, and that he would never be truly happy with anyone other than Asami. But now, he was stuck with this random person who worked for him, pretending to be his wife. He couldn't help but wonder if he had made the wrong choice in agreeing to this marriage.

Despite the intense attraction he felt towards Asami, he couldn't deny that their relationship was tumultuous and unpredictable. There were moments where she seemed to understand him better than he understood himself, but there were also times when she drove him to the brink of insanity. Even now, he couldn't shake the memories of their secret rendezvous, the adrenaline-fueled sex that still haunted his dreams. But as thought of you, his heart aches with regret, wishing that he had chosen Asami instead of you, hoping that he could have created a family with her instead.

His mind would just wander off to when he would have Asami all to himself - skin to skin, after sharing a passionate night together. The way her hair would stick to her face when he was so close to cumming inside her drove him wild. He couldn't wait to have her all to himself again, without any distractions or interruptions.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, feeling his body react to the thought of her naked form pressed against his. The anticipation and desire grew, making him hard and unable to focus on anything else. He couldn't wait to have her in his arms and fulfill every fantasy he had been imagining.

He grabbed shampoo and shoved it all over his face, rubbing his face before rinsing it off. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his torso. He grabbed his toothbrush and started brushing his teeth vigorously. After rinsing his mouth, he quickly dried off and went to his room.

Opening the door, he was met with your peaceful sleeping figure, dressed in shorts and a big t-shirt. He couldn't help but smile at how adorable you looked. As he changed into his pajamas, he couldn't help but feel a bit regret on treating you so hurtful.

He felt a pang of loneliness as he snuggled up to you, his fiancée, and not the person he truly desired. He could feel your warmth and smell your familiar scent, but it only intensified his longing for someone else. As he whispered goodnight, he couldn't help but imagine it was his lover in his arms instead.

"Goodnight Asami," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Despite the fact that you were wide awake, Satoru cuddled up to you and drifted off to sleep. You could hear his deep breathing before you bit your lip and silently let tears fall down your cheeks. It hurt to know that he couldn't even say your name.

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

[plvybxi]

baby

eren hated seeing you around campus. despised it. it made his stomach churn and his face would scrunch up. he was always being unreasonably harsh and cold toward you and it didnt make it any better that you would come around sometimes. it annoyed him so badly. armin would always bring his girlfriend with him whenever they hung out and of course you tagged along.

it was obvious that he wasnt fond of you and others noticed it too. they told you to brush it off and thats just how he is but you were so genuinely confused. you had never even had a clear conversation with the guy and he didnt like you?

it was odd but what were you going to do about it? definitely the least of your worries.

you mostly avoided each other anyway, but you had a few classes with him.

you walked out of class in front of eren and connie with your bsf and she suddenly decides to stop and start a conversation with connie about some party.

you glance over at eren and hes staring at you like he hates you. and he does. he hates your nose, your ears, your lips, your hands and how they hold your bottle, your eyes and how they shift across his whole body, he feels like hes gonna throw up.

his lip twitches and he taps connie on the arm

“im leaving. let me know when your coming back to my room.”

eren brushes past you like you werent even there.

you roll your eyes at how mannerless he is because what have you even done to him??

•••

what have you done to him?

eren is asking the same question. he rushes back to his room so fast hes almost out of breath. he shuts the door and locks it in a hurry before throwing this backpack on the ground. His hand flys to his dick and he cant hold it in anymore.

what. have. you. done. to. him?

hes so hot all over, his face from the neck down was so pink. he hurried and pulled at his dick to touch around himself. he was already so leaky and he really didnt know why.

he was so mad at you. mad that you were so annoying. mad that you didnt hate him back. mad that he cant stop thinking about you. mad that this isnt your hand on his dick right not. he lets out a saddened whine, his hips rutting up into his own hand as he feels betrayed by himself.

he cant help but think about you, you were just so pretty, and nice, and smart, and sweet. and he is always such an asshole to you.

he thinks back to earlier in desperate trace of his thoughts. your figure pops up and he gasps. your hands look so neat, he wants them all over him. everywhere. anywhere you want. the way your necklace sat just above your round tits had him squeezing his dick harder. that stupid sparkly belly button ring you had earlier ran circles around his mind.

this has been going on for 4 months now and eren literally doesnt know what to do. hes been trying his hardest to let this thing blow over but its killing him. he hates how bad he wants you. needs you.

hes remembers the smell of your perfume when he walked past you. his back arches and his eyes start to roll to the back of his head. you smell so good to him. so sweet. he just wants it all to stop.

even now he wants to stop but theres no way he can. hes so mad at himsel- no, you. he was mad at you. he runs his hand up his dick faster at the way your eyes scaned up and down his body earlier.

“f-fuck.. mmg, sh-…please“ he lets out in a cry. he doesnt want to keep doing this.

hes so so close, his head falls back as his jaw drops at the thought of you. mumbling little praises of your name.

but his heart drops immediately and he stops. he thinks he hears something down the hallway to his room. he hears connie and armin laughing loudly and he books it for the bathroom and shuts the door, rushing to turn the shower on. why did he forget armin and connie asked to hang today. do you see what you’re doing to him? his life had never been this difficult.

he heard his roommates open the door still being loud and rowdy.

“you in the shower eren?” connie yelled through the door

“yea i’ll be out in a second” eren yelled back

he felt so defeated so betrayed. his dick was so hard and you were the reason he even got in this situation

eren calmed down, showered and joined his friends in his room to end the rest of the day.

the next day rolls around and eren was so tired. he couldnt sleep and he was frustrated coming to class. he found himself losing focus from the professor a lot. looking over to roll his eyes when he sees your little spine tattoo creeping out from under the backside of your shirt.

he tried to ignore the zip of electricity that flew up his spine. he couldn’t wait for class to be over. could he leave early? hes going to leave early.

erens body moved before his mind worked and started to put his books away. you glanced up at him watching him ruffle around with his backpack before leaving out of the door.

connie looks over at you and your best friend and shrugs his shoulders at his friends attitude.

you shook your head, it was only like 20 minutes of class left

you turned your attention back towards you professor as he goes on and on about the upcoming test that going to be 45% of your grade.

he assigned “study partners” and tells the class that you would have to study with this person and turn in your notes in from over the past couple weeks to get 2 free A’s

you got partnered with eren.

your jaw dropped and you turned to your bsf to beg her to switch partners with you

“sorry y/n i dont think were allowed to” she said laughing at your irritation

“why him of all people he literally hates me” you said expressively while stuff your laptop away.

“well truly in my opinion, i think he likes you a little deep down. me and connie talk about it all the time. armin says he’s head over heels and doesnt know how to express it. if armin says that you gotta know its true” she said gloating about her boyfriend. you shove her and roll your eyes while she continues to laughs at you

you and armin are good friends, you introduced him to your best friend and he went crazy over her, you trust his words but theres no way.

erens mean, and rude, and mannerless, and cold. theres no way. right??

connie walks over to the two of you and all of you engage in a conversation.

“hey connie do you have erens number? i need to to tell him about us being partners and ask him when he wants to study.” you ask

“uh here, not sure if hes going to respond though. sometimes i dont even know if the dude remembers he has a phone” connie ridicules.

“thanks anyways” you say mentally sighing while they make you feel worse about the matter

they continue to conversate as you try texting eren. “hey eren its y/n. were study partners in class and we get 2 A’s for turning in our study papers over the few weeks. do you have time to study soon?”

he reads it

you wait, 2 minutes, 4 minutes, 8 minutes. what the hell? you turn to the long conversation with connie and shove your phone in both your friends face

“he literally left me on seen. and im just trying to get our work done whats up with him?” you say distraught

connie laughes. “hes never even seen my message that quick so be happy for that” they were both being so unserious about how rude he is and it makes your blood boil everytime

“any idea what i should do now?” you turn to ask him truly defeated

“honestly just go to his room. he’s probably not doing anything anyway” connie takes your hand and writes their room number down on it

“im gonna stay at sasha’s tonight she wants to do a movie marathon so call me if he starts getting out of hand” connie adds

you sigh and turn away from them to find their door

“good luckkkk” your bestfriend yells out.

you find his dorm relatively fast, its the same building as yours just a floor or two below where you are.

youre standing infront of their door truly just wanting to leave but the quicker you finish studying, the quicker you can leave him the hell alone.

you knock on the door and he opens it quickly

the door whips open and you get hit with a smell of very faint weed, fresh linen, laundry, and cologne

he was standing there towering over you with his hair in a messy bun and was wearing a white compression shirt with black sweats.

his green eyes narrow at realizing its you, his face still blank and you cant read it

“what?” he said running his hand over the top half of the door frame

he was so much taller than you

“did you see what i texted you, is it okay that im here” you ask looking deeply into his green eyes

“how did you know where my room was ?” he always sounds so upset with you”

“connie” you only say equally sounding upset

“i mean youre already standing in front of my door” he walks away from the door leaving it open and walking further into his room

your body flare with irritation and you step inside the cold room shutting the door behind you

he slumps down on the edge of his bed and you scan the room

its was surprisingly so… him. everything in the room fit him down to the random items that peered into his personality and the smell. you loved the smell. it said so much about him. he smells so clean but also mischievous

you walked over to his desk and sat at his chair

you start to take out your notepad and put your glasses on while you immediately start studying

eren wasnt dumb, not in the slightest. you had to correct him a few times which he obviously wouldnt appreciate but that’s apart of getting this shit done.

there was one formula eren just couldnt get through. it was dark outside at this point and the anger in erens body was rising

“no eren thats not right try again” you say calmy although this is the 4th times youve given him a example problem

“what are you even doing to get the right answer? the way you formatted it isnt even fucking right” eren spat out rude harsh insults through his frustration.

he cant focus and he doesnt know what to do. he cant think straight.

“i am doing it right eren doing fucking question me.” said getting angrier that he’s insulting your intelligence.

“ive been sitting here with you for 2 fucking hours trying to get through your shitty attitude because you don’t understand. im not your fucking tutor eren” you said in disbelief

hes gripping his pencil so hard. who do you think you are to talk to him like that? why are you even here right now? why are you dressed like that in his room, your tits are almost spilling out of your shirt and your thighs are squished together in his desk chair giving him so much to imagine

hes ignoring the burn he feels in his body, the ache he feels in his hips. if only you werent here right now.

you look up at his angry eyes. he looking down at you so intensely, hes so red and mad he looks like hes gonna explode

you sigh and scoot closer to him taking his dominant writing hand and holding it in yours and you talk him through the problem, guiding his hand to writing and solving the math problem

hes in disbelief, theres no way youre touching him. hes disgusted, his body isnt though, his dick aches, and his ears are filled with blood.

his hearing fuzzes as the sound of your voice runs through his head and down his spine while his eyes trickle down to your glossy lips, then your pretty collarbones, your tits, your thighs- on my fuck your thighs…

his breath hitches and hes never been this upset with someone. he pushed out of your touch and stands up looking at you like he wants to snap your neck.

you stand up and look at him confused.

“eren..”

“what the fuck is your problem y/n?”

“eren what are you even talking about? what the fuck is your problem eren?” you say getting just as mad and stepping closer to him

“you come in here unannounced without asking and trying to do fucking “work”. it’s noticeable youre always trying to be near me and its fucking exhausting. looking so go lucky when you come here claiming to “study” and you dont even know what youre doing. always coming when armin and his gf comes around to piss me off” eren yells at you with veins popping through his arms. he wants to scream hes so upset.

you genuinely cant believe him right now. what is he even saying?? is he really this entitled? this delusional? youre just as mad as him if not worse.

you step up to him making the gap between you both smaller.

“eren i dont know that the fuck is wrong with you but youre the biggest piece of shit i’ve ever met. youre rude and entitled and i’ve never had a single reason to care about you enough to want to piss you off. you act like a fucking child with your stupid ass attitude. my friend has a name. i have a name. fucking say it eren.” youre even closer to him now glaring up at his face. you can feel the heat radiating off each other from how mad you both are. his knees buckling from your insults and he doesnt know what to say back

he can smell your perfume, your minty breathe, your oh so pretty eyes and lips, and how your eyebrows narrow up at him with disgust and infuriation.

his breath is laboring but you dont stop. “i cant fucking wrap my head around how shitty you are unprovoked. i cant stand be around you either because you act like such a fucking baby. are you a fucking baby eren? do you want me to treat you like one?” you ask head tilted to really get your point across and stare into his green ones. you were so fed up.

you wait on his response but he just keeps staring at you feeling contradicted.

“fucking answer me eren”

he cracks before you can even finish his name

“just fucking-“ his hands raised to both your checks and he slams your face into his. its damn near bruising.

youre so surprised and you pull back with a stumble

you look at him appalled and hes breathing so hard. hes scared of you, terrified of your response. why did he do that? WHY did he do that?

hes sure you’re going to leave after that. you step forward towards him and he feels like hes gonna faint.

you watch his eyes drop down to your glossy lips. you smirk at him and grab him by the jaw. his lips part slightly just sitting in your hand you analyze his whole face, his long pretty lashes his faint freckles, and his pink plump lips that are just a tad but dry. he just so thirsty for you. hes been thirsty for the longest.

you let your hand trail around his jaw to the little hairs on the back neck and his eyes flutter while he takes a deep breathe in, inhaling how good you smell

he instinctively leans closer to you just slightly, so desperate he doesnt even know his muscles could move in their own.

his hands are ghosting your hands, he wants to pull you in so bad but hes scared. so embarrassed.

“is that what is is? you want to be treating like a baby?” you ask him, so softly like always. youre always so soft to him. he nods barley enough to fully admit it.

“but youre so mean you know that eren? you hurt my feelings so bad” you coo so closely to his face he can feel your breath on his lips.

his eyes flutter open to meet yours. your pretty minks blinking so seductively at him. it makes him feel small. “y/n” he whispers and leans in a little, his hands brushing against yours now

“wanna make it up to me?” is the last thing you say before he cant take it anymore and is kissing you with so much egar that you falter again.

he cant help it. he so badly wants to make it up to you. he wants to show you he can do it. he kisses you so needily you can barley keep up. he rest both his hands on the small of your back trying to resist sending his hands lower. you hum into the kiss and his dick twitches in his pants

your hands make way to his biceps and he relishes in how small your hand is compared to him. youre so much softer than he is. he feels like hes gonna die. your lips are so soft and pillowy he doesnt want to stop kissing you. ever. he his whole body is basically climbing on top of you.

your head is craned up to devour all of his kisses. your hand finds his abs and hes so sensitive for you. you let your hand softly trickle around the expand of his abs through his shirt and he cant help but to tense his body. his lips ghosts over yours as you start to feels how built he is.

“you were hiding all this from me when you couldve just asked” you say against his lips. his eyes are closed and hes lost in this thoughts. everything you say has him in a frenzy. he sends a low whine from his parted lips against yours and you back him up to lean him against his bathroom door.

you look at his face from the window light and you didnt realize how pink he is all over. his whole body is blushed.

his tip is sending precum all over his boxers hearing you talk to him. his eyes opened and his back arched up into yours a little when he felt your hand go under his shirt and touch his abs.

he was panting and he couldnt help it. you were scared he was gonna pass out. he was scared he was going to pass out.

he felt your fingertips run from his v-line through his abs up to his very sensative chest. he couldnt help but pull yiu into him more.

he had no space to move. he was wedged between the door and his whole world. you.

you could feel how hard he was through his sweats. his body was so pretty. he was so pretty.

he couldnt get anything out but your name. hes gasping your name and bucking up at the same time.

why does he feel so sensitive with you hes never felt this way with any other girl. and a lot of girls know eren.

but theres always been this lingering attraction to you. and he hated it. or did he? his body couldnt hold it anymore up to about 4 months ago.

your lips found their way to his neck and your hand moves further and further down until your at the drawstring of his sweats. his jaw drops wide at the anticipation.

his head falls back against the door and he cant get anything out.

your tongue is so warm and the way you suck right against the pressure point boiling on his neck has him thinking youre a witch.

you have his body so trained for without ever having knowing it.

you slowly move your hand down his sweats to feel him in his boxers

hes so strained and you can feel how hes excessively leaking into own underwear.

you press your finger to his wet tip and he lets out a heavy moan while pressing himself future into you.

“ffuck… shit, wait, please” he voices breathly.

you experiment a little and you run your hand down a tad bit to rub the nervy spot just underneath his mushroom tip and his back is arching involuntarily

“oh right here hm?” you hum

his brow furrows into pleasure as he nods to your question

your lips raise from his neck to kiss along his jaw line. you pull his jaw down again to join your lips together and he hates how obedient he is to you

“y/n, please” he tried to whisper but it came out strained.

“oh hush” you kissed him again and hes mewling into your mouth

his whole body tensed and he grips you harder, grabbing at your ass and truly struggling to kiss you back now.

“o-oh fuck-.. y/n i need…” he cant finish his thoughts

“what do you need baby?”

baby. you called him baby. in that sweet voice. he feels your other hand grip the small roots of his hair slightly and his eyes roll back.

he cant hold it anymore.

his shaky hands grabs the one down his pants and shoves it to touch the bare skin on his dick. youre shocked upon feeling how much precum he had in his underwear. he moans as you felt him rolling his body into yours trying to catch your lips onto his. he was panting so bad, eyes rolling.

“breathe baby” you said close to his ear

2.5 seconds later he was cumming all over your hand. you kissed his face to bring him down from his high, which that only made his orgasm longer. he opened his eyes and looked at you.

how he looked at you now was way different from how he normally looked at you

there were hearts in his eyes and he was still holding your hand so tight.

an idea popped up into your head and you internally smiled.

you pulled your hand out of his pants and stepped away from eren in whole. his body chased yours and walked forward with you.

“w-where are you going” he said worried

you said nothing but walked over to his laundry and wiped your hand on his shirts from the basket

you gathered your things and eren rushed to your side

“y-y/n….” he said in a trailed off voice. he wanted you to stay. do you know hes sorry for how he acted? where are you going? why are you leaving him? he needs you.

“the test is next month. you need to study that problem without me too so you know how to use that formula.” you said nonchalantly. hes so confused. fuck the formula. you are all he wants. he wants you to teach it to him. youre so smart. smarter than him. youre the only way he’ll understand it. he cant learn it by himself.

“w-well were studying tomorrow again too… right?” eren asks with pleading eyes. he doesn’t understand. he wants you to say yes so bad, he wants to see you again

“uh i dont know eren i have a few guys from the football team that asked me to study with them. maybe after this weekend, k?” you continue putting your things away.

hes staring at you trying to get your eyes to connect with his. he just wants some attention, just wants you too look at him and feel bad for the state hes in. but you never look back at him. why wont you look at him? its frustrating him and he wants to cry

“im gonna leave my part of the notes for this formula here so you can go over it okay?” youre talking like nothing happened. as if you arent breaking his heart right now.

you study with other guys? football guys? guys with an s? how many guys? he feels his heart dropping by the second.

“bye eren” you say with that pretty smile. youre out of his dorm so quickly. so quickly your scent is still lingering around his room. he feels so dizzy. he walks over to your notes on his desk. your pretty, neat handwriting and your cute highlighted math formulas. his head is swimming with you.

he tries to think of what to do now. he cant figure it out, he feels how sticky his underwear feels and embarrassingly sheds out of them.

he changes his underwear and crawls into his bed. he picks his phone up and changes your number to your name. he texts you “let me know when youre free.” you look at it and dont reply. he feels his heart wrench.

hes never saved a girls contact in his phone. he scrolls over to instagram and searches your name. he follows you.

the next day in class eren cant help but to sneak looks at you. even connie notices and asks him whats up.

eren brushes his friend off and tries to look forward at his professor.

he sees you more around campus with so many other guys, you still havent texted him back, acknowledged him, nothing.

when you two are standing near each other he feels so small under your gaze.

its been 3 days and its hurting him to breathe at this point.

until, tuesday night you text him and his heart almost jumps out of his body.

“what are you doing tonight?”

[dollgxtz]

heyyy, i just read your fics and wanted to tell you that I LOVE how you write! Im excited for future works and definitely will check on your blog more often now. I also saw that you are willing to write things such as ddlg and stuff, and I wanted to request it with Sylus.🖤

The Best Cure

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: daddy!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, daddy kink, ddlg, pet names like kitten, sweetie, little one, little girl, daddy, fingering, teasing, some slight punishment, overstim if you squint, lots of fluff near the end, tw for mentions of vomit

AN: I was trying so hard to get this done in the midst of everything else going on in my life but I had it 80 percent done so I figured I might as well finish and publish it tonight LOL. Ty for requesting anon <3

It was hot. Way too hot. Sweat beads form on your brow and your insides churn with nausea. You shift in bed a bit, bedsheets clinging to your clammy skin as you do so. A large bowl sits on the bedside table, ready for any vomit that threatens to come up your throat. You hadn’t thrown up at all today, but you still wanted to be prepared for the possibility. Each passing moment and stomach churn made that fear become more and more like it was going to be reality.

The black and heavy wooden door to the room suddenly opens, light pouring in to the very dark room. Sylus peers in, eyeing your disheveled figure.

“You should’ve had Luke and Kieran turn the ac down while I was gone. Poor thing”. He walks in, completely closing the door behind him.

A pair of delicate hands gently lifts your torso, propping you up with a mountain of pillows and plushies piled against the headboard. Sylus sits on the bed beside you, his worry carving a deep divot between his brows. He reaches out to test your temperature with the back of his hand, the other placing a thermometer under your tongue for good measure. You grimace and whine when he moves his hand away, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t look at me like that, kitten” he chuckles, moving his hand back to caress your cheek with his thumb. His brows tilt in concern before giving you a soft smile. “Daddy will take care of you”

You feel your cheeks heat up with the sound of that nickname. It wasn’t the first time he had addressed himself as such, and yet it never seemed to make you any less flustered. You had called him that by complete accident one night while half asleep, and while he had been taken aback a bit, he leaned into it completely after some light teasing (of course). Besides, he had already had an inkling you were into that kind of thing, coupled with your childish interests and tendencies.

He didn’t mind at all though. It was absolutely adorable the way you changed when it was just the two of you. The way you melt in his arms, become clingy and desperate for his touch. You go from Linkon’s fierce hunter and protector to his giggly little girl. And he couldn’t get enough. Knowing that he was a safe space for you to be this way meant the world to him.

However, you were feeling worse for wear and didn’t exactly want to be so agreeable today. You glare up at him and swat his hand away from your face, a nagging feeling of displeasure and nausea stirring in your gut.

And like waves crashing against the shore, emotions well up within you, pricking at the back of your eyes and bubbling in your head—discontent, worry, pride—all battering against the vulnerable neediness that yearns for tender care. Your lips press tight in a vain attempt to keep them from wobbling, pushing away the impulse to relent and fall into that soft headspace.

“Go away. Aren’t you supposed to be bathing in the blood of your enemies or something?” you spat, attempting to turn away from him. Sylus says nothing as he sets down the thermometer, moving closer to hold you in a tight embrace. You struggle against him for a few short moments, only stopping when the wooziness in your gut and head take over. Your body relaxes in his arms finally and he chuckles again.

“Done with your little tantrum?” he coos, planting a few kisses on your forehead. “And for your information, my enemies can wait. I gotta make sure this sick little kitten feels better don’t I?”

You don’t respond, still in the midst of your internal battle with your head. Sylus definitely notices but doesn’t say anything, taking a look at the thermometer again. He gets up momentarily, heading to the bathroom and coming back with a cool wash cloth.

A cool washcloth wipes over your forehead to clear away the sweat, gentle fingers resting under your chin to keep you still. You start to shake your head in protest, stopping immediately when your vision swims and your stomach induces a sharp pain. You lean over, clutching yourself as you groan in agony. Sharp, angry. stabs erupt all over your insides and you wheeze a little. Tears prick your eyes and slide down your cheeks. Sylus touches your back and begins to rub you, causing you to immediatly sit back up and try to compose yourself.

“I-i don’t need you” you persist, still clutching your stomach. “It’s probably just something bad I ate at work, I’ll be fine”. Every fiber of your mind is trying to fight back against going into your fluffy headspace. A growing part of you wonders why you’re even resisting this hard. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just let go and let him take control?

Sylus watches your labored movements, listening to your halfhearted attempt to lie while still making small circles on your back. His face adorns a stern expression, clearly not believing a single word you’re saying.

“You’re a terrible liar, sweetie” he smiles, his hand leaving the small of your back. “It’s okay to want me, though. I want to take care of you”. His voices drips in reassurance, his unwavering gaze shines with his love and acceptance—the genuine sincerity piercing your soul and vaulting you past your breaking point.

It’s near audible the way your remaining resolve crumbles, leaving you sniveling and grabbing onto his shirt with a fierce, unrelenting grip. He of course reciprocates immediately, lifting you into his lap with ease.

A sigh pushes past his lips, clearly relieved that you finally let go for him. He adjusts the both of you so you’re both further on the bed, his back against the headboard as you straddle his lap and hug him around the neck.

He hushes your sobs, wiping your tearstained face and running his fingers over your hair. Your head finds a resting place on his heart, the steady and rhythmic beat gently relaxing you even more in his hold. Incoherent apologies and words begin to spill from your mouth and into chest. Although he can’t quite understand you, he simply lets you, no irritation or anger to be found anywhere on his face.

“I’m not mad pretty girl, but you can be pretty stubborn when you want to be” he smirks, giving you a light squeeze for further reassurance. “You’re lucky you’re so cute”

You grunt in his chest, pouting slightly. You lift your head a bit, positioning your lips to his neck, slightly biting it in retaliation. While Sylus had no bodily reaction, he slightly raised his eyebrow at your feeble nibbling.

“Oh? Is this little kitten biting her owner?” he scoffs, sliding his hand under the back of your shirt a little. “Seems you’re feeling better after all hm?”

“Hmph. A little…I mostly just find you annoying” you hiss, biting into the skin of his neck a bit harder. Sylus responds by dragging his hand into the hem of your sweatpants, squeezing the roundness of one of your asscheeks. You squeal, jumping back to glare at him.

“Seems we’ve found the cure to your illness, little one” he grins, seemingly enjoying the flustered reaction you just gave him. “You can bite me all you want if you can handle the consequences”

Your mouth left his neck and you looked up at him, already feeling flustered by his words.

“Consequences?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. Feigning ignorance was just something you did to stall him.

“Of course. You have to teach kitties not to bite the hand that feeds them. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, smugness dripping from his voice. You roll your eyes, a wave of nausea overcoming you once again. You wince, leaving Sylus’s lap and laying next to him.

“Im too sick to do any of that anyways…” you whine, looking up at him from your new position. You reach both hands up to him indicating you want to be held. He obliges, repositioning himself to your side and taking you in his arms.

“Is it your stomach still? Want me to rub it?” he asks. You weakly nod, lifting up your shirt a bit so he can slide his hand over. He gently starts caressing the softness of your tummy, making you whimper a bit from the ticklish sensation.

“Too gentle Sy, a little harder…”

“Are you gonna start complaining next that I’m doing it too hard? Make up your mind now sweetie” he chuckles.

You grit your teeth in slight irritation but mostly embarrassment from his teasing. Still, the panging waves of nausea leave no energy for smart or quirky remarks.

“Harder please?” you whimper, half questioningly and half plead. He nods, beginning to rub your stomach with a more intense motion than before. You stifle a groan as his hand shifts back and forth across the skin of your tummy, almost immediately alleviating the pain. You weren’t sure if this was some kind of placebo, or if Sylus’s touch was really just that good. Closing your eyes, you unwittingly let out a few sighs and whimpers.

“Is this hurting you more sweetie? Or does it feel good?”

Sylus’s voice trails off, a knowing and smug expression appearing on his face. Your eyes shoot open, heat creeping across your cheeks and ears.

“Not like that!! It just feels nice…perv” you spat, but you don’t move his hand away. You hear him chuckle as you close your eyes again, once more lost in the sensation of his cold hands massaging the skin of your stomach. You feel yourself getting lost in the motions of his touch, and for once in that entire day, you felt like dozing off.

It wasn’t until you felt his hand slide a bit lower than anticipated that you peered your eyes open a little. But you didn’t flinch or glare at him. Your breath simply hitched, a warm feeling starting to ache in your core. Sylus eyed your expression, pausing momentarily to gauge your reaction.

“If you don’t want me to go lower just say so” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your ear. “But…it might help you feel a little better hm?”

Instinctively you push your lower half up against his hand, the adrenaline and excitement beginning to pool through your veins. Your nausea still lingering, but long forgotten at this point. Taking that as a very clear sign, Sylus crept the rest of his fingers down your sweats, methodically creeping them under your underwear, and finally to your aching heat.

You gasp at the sudden coldness at your clit, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed. As he slowly and methodically starts making circles around your clit, you can feel yourself getting practically out of breath. Letting out a small whine, you peer at Sylus with a pleading expression.

“Don’t-dont tease me, I don’t feel good…” you mewl, tears beginning to prick your eyes. You were telling the truth, feeling so worked up already that any teasing today was certainly going to send you over the edge.

Sylus chuckles, wasting no time to give you what you were wanting. He undoubtedly enjoyed seeing you in such a pathetic state, but how could he say no to the whiny little kitten mewling at his side right now? He places his index finger over your bud, earning a much louder moan from you. You buck your hips into his hand, trying to gain even more sensation.

“Mghm! Keep going…like that…” your voice shakes with desperation. Your hands clutch at the muscles of his arms, trying to keep yourself from shaking like a scared animal. It normally took much longer to get you to this point, but today you needed it so much more. You needed him. And he definitely knew by the way he was granting mercy so quickly.

“So needy for my touch aren’t we~?” Sylus coos, keeping up the unrelenting pace on your bud as promised. “Does my little girl want to cum?”

You nod fervently, breath hitching in your throat as an intoxicating wave of pleasure begins to crest within you. Sylus, ever attuned to the intricacies of your body, senses the impending climax and, much to your displeasure, deliberately slows his pace.

The urge to protest, to lash out in frustration, flares within you, but you're acutely aware of the futility of challenging him. Instead, you gaze up at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, silently pleading for release, for heaven.

“Ah ah, you know better. Use your words kitten” his voice commanding but soft. His feathery tone of voice compels you to obey him, your mouth opening slightly ajar to try and tumble the words out, all the while he still circles your aching bud with painful, slow strokes.

“Please Sy, I wanna cum, please?”

“Look at you, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg, how cute”

You don’t get the chance to retort before you feel a sudden intrusion slicking through the wetness in your hole. You gasp, nails embedding themselves in Sylus’s forearms as he unrelentingly begins to finger you with his index whilst his middle continues the pace on your clit. A soaring heat breaks in your core, and you’re practically on the edge of climax when you peer at his lower half, his cock practically bursting out of his own pants. You reach for it instinctively, but Sylus catches your wrist before you could unzip him.

“Daddy…I want you to feel good too” you whimper, voice strained as you try to delay your own release. You try to reach again but unsuccessfully. Sylus shakes his head, pinching your clit slightly. You jump, his swift punishment making you relent and bury your face against him.

“Good girl, see it’s better when you listen to me isn’t it?” he whispers. “Just lay there and cum on my fingers sweetie”

You moan against his chest in response, ecstasy flooding your body and core with one last stroke of your bud. You choke out his name, shaking and panting against his body as your own body obeys his words. Abdomen and thighs shuddering under his gaze as he takes in the sight of you coming undone for him. Even after you came down, his long and dexterous fingers kept pressing down against certain sweet spots, sending you into a new state of sensitivity.

“It hurts Sy…” you plead, attempting to move his wrist. He obliges, removing his wet fingers that are now coated in your desperation and release. He’s quick to move his fingers towards his mouth, and you shut your eyes out of embarrassment.

“Sylus, don’t taste it…I’m gross”

You hear him chuckle as he finishes the last drop off his finger, leaning closer to give you a deep but sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered, tasting yourself a bit on his lips. Still pretty gross to you, but exciting nonetheless.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he smirks, readjusting your underwear and pants back onto your body correctly. “You taste sweeter every single time”

You shove your face back into his body out of embarrassment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your expression. Your illness was long gone now, surpassed by your orgasm most likely. Smiling into Sylus’s warm body, fuzziness begins to cloud your brain. You hadn’t really slept at all last night, and only slept in increments through the day.

“Tired? Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up kitten” he says, a content smile creeping on his face, very much relieved that you felt well enough to sleep now.

Nestled in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the day began to dissolve. The rhythmic rise and fall of Sylus’s chest was a soothing lullaby, each breath a gentle nudge towards sleep. The soft hum of his whispered words filled the quiet space between you both, like a comforting melody that played just for you. Your eyelids grew heavy, fluttering closed as the familiar bourbon scent of Sylus’s cologne enveloped you. The world outside blurred into the background, until all that remained was the steady heartbeat beneath your ear, guiding you into a deep and peaceful slumber.

[strawberryya]

Santa baby

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

synopsis: Christmas is coming around, and you decide a new outfit is in its right place - for you and your boyfriend of course. Will he like the holiday themed outfits you have picked out enough to give you a couple needed gifts in return?

word count: 3.4k

genre/cw: SMUT, cosplaying Santa for devious purposes, idol au, establish relationship, softdom!san, sub!reader, a slight voice kink, use of sextoy, unprotected sex, cockwarming, oral sex - both recieving, borderline cumplay, soft aftercare.

rating: 18+

a/n: surpise @millennial-fangirl! I'm your cod secret Santa! I'm so sorry this took forever to finally post, but I hope you like it nonetheless!!

network tagging: @cultofdionysusnet @svthub @k-labels @kvanity-main

How would San react to the slutty reindeer outfit? Would he think the tail was cute? You imagine the look on his face as he opens the Christmas present you are trying to pick out. Usually, he would be the one deciding what you would dress up as. This year you want to try something new, you want to surprise him with a sexy new outfit. For him. 

When you see the sexy Santa outfit hanging neatly on one of the rows of the toyshop, you can’t help yourself. It was so perfect. Tiny red briefs in velour, black gloves, and a matching belt… you figured that the belt had other purposes than holding up the nonexistent pants. You want to see San in the skimpy outfit. You need to see how it would fit snuggly around his large cock, and experience the feeling of the leather gloves when they meet your plush skin. 

You are getting too excited just thinking about it, and Christmas Eve is still a whole week away. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts you take a set of the skimpy outfit for San and continue browsing. 

Maybe you should get something for yourself as well? You debated it for a bit, looking at all the different seasonal and general costumes. You had quite a few at home already, with San loving to dress you up you had tried on quite a few over the years. When you spot the matching Mrs Santa Claus set you realize what needs to be done. 

After all, he needs something pretty to look at too. This was his present after all. You could hear his seductive voice as if he stood right beside you, “Such a pretty whore, all dolled up for me on Christmas Eve.”

You imagine his smirk as he sees what you have planned for him. Your stomach flutters with anticipation at the thought. He likes to be dominant just as much as you love being his submissive, but sometimes you want to be the one taking the initiative, the one to take control. Picking out the sluttiest Christmas outfits for the two of you as a Christmas gift felt like the perfect opportunity for you to do so. You get to choose what and how it is going to be done. At least, that’s what you have in mind right now. 

Before leaving the store with your new costumes, you ask for a good recommendation from the staff for your third surprise for San. A vibrator, just a small little thing that you could use as a helping hand to make him feel as good as possible. You don’t use toys on him very often, but why not? They always make you feel good. You decide to try it out this once. 

The gifts are wrapped in red and gold when Christmas Eve comes around. After a week of thinking daily about how to go about giving him the gifts with the best result, you decide to put on your own outfit and hide it under your pajamas until the right moment. 

San had not had the day off. The life of an idol could not be put off even on holidays such as this. You watch his performance on your TV as it airs, fixing your boobs in the lacy bra one last time before covering up with your Christmas pajama shirt. There was a matching velvet choker, but wearing it could ruin the entire surprise, so you decide to hold off on putting it on until later. The show was a holiday-themed special, San was acting even cuter than normal, fitting right in with his group members as they danced and pranced across the stage in their snowman outfits and reindeer headbands. It is adorable, you can’t deny that. 

San has some serious talent when it comes to hiding his dominant streak. The cute cheek pokes and eye smiles almost convince you that he isn’t the same man who had ordered you to choke on his cock just a couple of nights ago. You had gladly done so of course, but it is sometimes hard to believe they are the same person.

The door slammed shut, making you almost jump out of the couch where you were sitting while waiting for San to arrive. He seems agitated as he drops his bag on the floor. He falls onto the couch the moment he sees you sitting there looking pretty and soft in your red and white checkered pajamas. His head buries itself in your thighs, making your cunt clench a bit, but innocently enough for you to chuckle it off as you begin patting his head. “What’s wrong Sannie?” 

“Too much cuteness, can’t do it anymore. So, so tired.”

He groans into your thighs after looking over to the TV and noticing that you are watching his performance. “Please, turn that off, I really cannot look at that anymore.” 

You chuckle but shut off the TV. “Rough day then, huh?

“Very. But I am free now~,” he says, suddenly sounding a bit more cheerful, his sharp eyes looking at you instead. Arms folding to hold his head up, his biceps balancing on your thighs. He looks so charming, you think. Leftover makeup is still sparkling on his cheeks and in the corners of his eyes. You wipe his cheek gently, “I have an early Christmas present for you. Maybe that will cheer you up and get you in the holiday spirits?” 

San gives you a pleased smile in return, pulling you down with a gentle hand to kiss you softly. He tastes like chocolate chip cookies. It made you not want to pull away, but the thought of finally seeing his reaction to his gifts finally won over the pleasure of feeling his lips on yours. 

You run to fetch the box from under the tree that you had decorated together a couple of weeks ago. The shiny red and gold paper is glistening in your hands when you excitedly hand it over to San. You position yourself next to his legs on the soft carpet, looking up at him with so much hope in your expression. He’s sitting up now, the sweats he had worn when getting off work showing off his dick-print, it feels a bit like he is teasing you even though he doesn’t know it. 

“What is it?” San asks, eyebrows curiously knitting as he picks up the rather light package he had seen under the tree for a couple of days now. 

“You can’t ask me that! Just open it!” 

He doesn’t waste any time ripping the paper open after that, the red and white fabric soon appearing to the both of you. San picks up the gloves, the briefs, the hat, and the collar. There is nothing more to the outfit, it’s honestly even less fabric than what you have on underneath your pajamas… You watched his face turn from a small smile into a dark smirk. 

“Are these for me, baby?” 

You nod, meeting his piercing gaze. Heat spread across your skin when San stood up without a word, throwing off his shirt, picking up the tiny Santa collar, and putting it on without much effort. He had practiced putting variations of these on your neck for years, and it wasn’t much harder adorning his own neck with one. 

His proportions always stunned you, and seeing him so causally pulling his pants down to reveal his large bulge sitting prettily in his boxers made your mouth water. His body is seductive, that was the only way to put it. The small red and white briefs are quickly pulled on, and you can’t help but be a bit sad that he was putting on more clothes right now, even though you loved seeing him try on his Christmas present just as you had planned. 

“Will you hand me those, love?” Obediently you hand over the black gloves and the hat he pointed toward, earning a “Good girl,” from San. The way his voice isn’t hiding the smirk behind those words is making your walls clench around nothing. He is a vision when he stands towering above you, your eyes flickering over the details of his body. Gloves snuggly hugging his hands, arms veiny just like the pretty part right above the edge of the snug briefs. He has gotten so big during the last couple of years, his broad shoulders make you want to throw your arms around him, inviting him to do whatever he pleases tonight. 

“You like what you see, don’t you?”

“Very much, San, I like it a lot,” you agree, gaze still wandering between the different parts of his body. 

He scoffed, “Don’t you think you’re enjoying yourself a bit too much? Have you been a good enough whore this year to act this shamelessly? And you know very well that it’s Sir.” 

You suck in a breath. His stern, but teasing tone made your heart beat faster. Not to mention the way his gloved hand has begun fondling his clothed cock. 

“I have been a very good whore, Sir.” 

“Oh, really?” San flirts, a smirk growing wide on his lips when you begin unbuttoning your shirt. You look down, intimidated by the way he watched you, embarrassed about having planned this entire thing out as a Christmas gift. When the red fabric covering your breast begins to show he bends down to your level on the floor, a leather-gloved hand lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him while you pull the rest of your pajama shirt off. 

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, won’t you?”

You do as he wishes. Your breath is shallow as you let him inspect your figure, still kneeling on the floor in front of him. Your tits are barely being held back by the red lace. You wait until San nods with approval at your new lingerie. He sits back down on the couch, your gaze catching the way his bulge has grown even more. 

“Are you all dolled up for me, baby?” He asks, not expecting any answer. “Will you show me the rest of your outfit now?”

You were reminded of the collar you had hidden in your pocket, pulling it out and handing it over to San submissively. “Could you help me put it on, Sir?” 

With a swift hand, San helps you snap the collar in place. The golden bells that adorn it ring prettily as you run your fingers over it. His touch lingered on your neck, the warmth of his hand chasing chills right down to where the heat had begun pooling between your legs. Without a word, you stand up. Carefully pushing down your pants to reveal the last piece of your outfit. The lace is already sticking to your wet lips. It’s a lewd sight, the fabric covering almost nothing, your bra making your tits look like they were about to burst the tiny thing open at the seams, and the collar ringing softly as your breath moved your chest.

”Like it?” 

“Of course I like it. You have indeed been a good little whore this year,” San responds, his eyes meeting yours with hunger. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You straddled him without hesitation, needy for his touch. San’s hands quickly find your curves, gently caressing you with familiarity and need. His erection presses deliciously against your cunt, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. 

You kiss down his body, eager to please him with your mouth when you remember that you have almost forgotten about the third gift. “Wait! I have one more thing,” you mumble, getting yourself off from your confused (and horny) boyfriend. When you returned with yet another gift in your hands San doesn’t hesitate for a second to rip it open to see what could be more important than an orgasm right now. The tiny red vibrator that he unwrapped was a good answer to his questions. 

“For you?” he asks. 

“No, for you.”

San’s eyes widen when you take the vibrator from him. You had made sure it was ready for use right away. Proud to have prepared so thoroughly, you giggle a bit as you start kissing up his thigh, knees firmly planted on the carpet again, hands fondling San’s erection. It’s fun challenging San’s authority in this way. His hard cock smacks up against his abdomen when you pull down the fabric covering him. He groans above you as you lick along his needy shaft. You let your saliva drip down, sucking gently on his reddened tip. One of your hands works at the base of his erection, and the other fiddles carefully with the vibrator. A slow buzzing sound melts together with San’s pretty sounds as you press it against his hip, slowly dragging it toward his hardness. You hollowed your cheeks, letting the vibrations of the toy go through his hardness, softly at first. 

He jerks up into your mouth, his body fighting to regain control over the situation. With a firm grip, he pushes your head down further on his needy cock. He’s lost in the chase of his own high, the way you are gagging around him only taking him closer to the edge. Your pussy clenches uncontrollably, even when he isn’t ordering you around with words. His actions always manage to give him the upper hand in these situations. He cums down your throat with a series of moans, so pretty you almost begin detesting the vibrator for giving off any sound at all that distracts your ears from hearing him. You let him fuck your throat until he pulls you off of him, teary-eyed and heaving for air. 

“So good for me, fuck-” he gasps out. He looks down at you, hands desperately clinging to his thighs, your nipples having been pushed up above the edge of your tiny bra, hardened and suckable. Cum is dripping from the corner of your mouth, he reaches up a gloved hand, wiping it up only to order you to open your mouth once again. You lick the tiny amount of spilled cum from the black leather. 

You are becoming needy. As much as you love pleasing him, you crave his touch too. Will he grant your wish if you simply ask? It was always a gamble, whether or not he would continue to play with you or please you like you needed. 

He was always careful not to move too fast, loving to tease you and play with you until you were ready to take him inside of you. But after preparing for the surprise and wearing the sexy lingerie while lounging around, and then seeing just how quickly San had slipped into the usual dynamic between the two of you, you felt like you could take him with ease. 

To be completely honest, you are more than convinced that you can take him. Your cunt aches for him. 

“If you don’t stop wiggling your ass like that I might think that you’re already ready for me to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” San smirks as he watches your thighs squeeze together in search of some relief. 

“I’m ready for you, Santa baby.”

“That’s cute,” he scoffs, “You seem like an eager little whore today.”

He gives you a look of mischief. An expression you love seeing, since it tells you that he has made his plans for what to do with you next.

“Can you lay down for me, pretty girl?”

You rise from the floor and position yourself next to San, your pussy available for him to use as he sees fit. The black leather gloves he still wears touch down on your soft thighs, helping you spread your legs for San to see just how wet you have gotten. With a swift finger, he pulls your red panties aside, watching as your folds spread beautifully. Slick and glistening. 

He hums, “Such a sweet pussy you have, baby. I just can’t get enough…” 

You gasp as he dives in for a taste, finally giving you something to help satisfy your urges. His tongue swipes at your pussy lips, lips kissing your clit, eyes closed, and his moans reveal just how much he’s enjoying himself as he eats you out. 

A warm feeling spreads throughout your body when he sucks on your clit as a finger or two begin slipping into you and curling against your sensitive spot. He has a talent for making you cum fast, and hard. You are grinding up against his face when your first orgasm washes over you. 

He works you through it, kisses against your inner thighs and a calming touch making sure you ride it out until you are panting and begging him for another. 

San’s eyes shine at the pleading sounds. “My very own little whore, so desperate for cock.”

“Please… just one more!” 

“I need to give you something back for this wonderful Christmas present, don’t I? A couple more orgasms sound like a good idea to me,” he says as he pulls you up by your arms, and with your assistance, you are now straddling him as he kisses you. He doesn’t taste like chocolate chip cookies anymore, now he tastes of you. It makes you feel dizzy. 

You slip onto his hard erection, taking him in with a moan. He helps you start bouncing on his lap, the bells around your neck ringing softly as he stretches you out. The gloves aid him in holding a steady grip around your hips and thighs as he lifts you as much as he can while simultaneously watching your pussy coating his cock in your slick. His muscles become even more defined with each curl. You can’t take your eyes away from him. You whimper that you are close, and in response, San reaches down to pick up the tiny vibrator that lies next to him on the couch. 

He presses the toy against your clit, your walls contracting around his length at the sensation. You are coming undone within seconds, but he doesn’t remove the vibrations, overstimulating you until you are squirming on his lap. Nails clawing at his bare, sweaty shoulders, and walls squeezing him uncontrollably. 

You didn’t mean to come a second time, but when you go silent, and your entire body tenses against him San knows that he has succeeded in returning the favor. He cums inside of you, filling you up, eager to see it run out of you. He would’ve eaten it out of you, but you are already spent. Next time, he decides. 

With a soft hand, he removes the toy from you, a gentle touch soothing your clit while you whimper at how sensitive he has gotten you. He lets you calm down, his cock softening inside of your warmth, just how you like it. It makes you feel close to him when he lets you feel him like that. 

“I’ll go get some towels, could you stay right here for me baby?” he says, soft voice feeling like a warm blanket around your exhausted mind. You nod and slide off of him, missing his warmth the moment his arms let you go. He comes back with damp towels and water, making sure you’re cleaned up completely, and that you drink the entire glass of water before he finally forces you on your feet so you can go to the bathroom. He has taken the Santa outfit off, instead, he’s dressed in the nice grey sweats from before and a simple t-shirt. He dresses you in your softest pajamas and gives you new underwear. He patts your hair while he snuggles up next to you in your shared bed. The lights from the Christmas tree shine their warm light all the way to the bedroom. You let San take care of you completely, falling asleep in his warm embrace after having begged him for at least ten kisses. 

“Thank you, that was a really nice present, baby.”

You smiled a drowsy smile, “I’m gonna have to think up something for New Year’s now because I wanna do this again…”

“Maybe I could be the one to surprise you, I have some ideas already,” San said and pulled you even closer, fingers running softly across your back. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[sstrwbrryccke]

uhm... so basically this post was originally an ask but tumblr deleted it...😭 ANYWAYS! the original ask was from @soobinsonly1bf and the prompt was one-sided window sex! (thank u em ur my saviour…)

— exposed | sub choi soobin

tags: window sex, public fondling, lingerie, handjob (soob receiving), amab reader (no pronouns, only genitalia), anal sex, perv soob, exhibitionism

“i’ll be relying on you! thank you!” the faint voice of your friend blares on the other end before you hang up. an overseas venture of one of your good friends had suddenly left you in charge of their clothing store. it was flattering that they thought you were responsible enough to look after their shop, but it also meant you had to take a few days off your calendar just to monitor the store.

first things first, you should check up on the shop and make sure everything’s in place, good thing the store’s closed today, otherwise you might be rushing around already. the clothing store was situated in the middle of a very busy shopping centre, with many bustling shoppers roaming around.

light fixture, check, working ventilation, check, air conditioning, check, needy boyfriend spamming your dms? not check.

you rolled your eyes in amusement as your dms lit up for the fifth time. what a clingy man he was. you text back and you could almost hear his whining from behind the screen.

‘where are you?’

‘my friends store, remember’

‘can i come’

the text flashed up in the dim store and you took a second to consider if it was a good idea or not to bring your oversized baby over to the store. actually whatever, bringing your boyfriend over was always a good idea because he was your boyfriend!

‘im sharing my location’

it doesnt take long until you see the tall figure of your boyfriend peeking out from the locked door, he sticks his face right up to the glass door, his eyes squinting as if trying to see into the dark store. you surprise him by opening the door, causing him to nearly trip forward. thankfully catching himself just before he embarrassed himself not only in front of you but also the other shoppers.

“what are you doing? you’re so goofy.” you close and lock the door again when he comes in, he looks around the store, in awe.

“woah, all the windows are one-sided.”

you shrug, some stores were just like that. you didn’t pay it any mind as you continued to do your check-up on the store. soobin did his mini check-up on the store too, which was really just him roaming around and browsing the racks of clothing.

“they have lingerie.”

his voice rang out from the other side of the store, and at first you just roll your eyes at him. what a pervert, of course the first thing he does is oogle at the store’s extensive collection of sexy clothing.

“what? you wanna try it on?” you just joke without a thought, hands busy setting up a shelf of socks. when there was no reply for a while, you take a concerned glance over his direction, only to see him intensely staring at a white lacy panty. blush on his cheeks.

he didn’t even notice you making your way to his direction, until you were right in front of him, he seems to startle back to life— shoving the panty roughly back into the rack— failing miserably as the clothing misses and falls flat to the floor. he looks guilty and embarrassed, a sheepish smile on his face, eyes wide.

you slowly pick up the item. holding it up and observing it, before your eyes rake up his body and to his eyes.

“put it on.”

his breath hitches at your change of tone, eyes glancing down to the lingerie and then at you. you beckon the item closer until he takes it into his shaky hands, stepping back, towards the changing room—

“no, here. put it on here.”

you stop him, finger pointing at where you stood. he nervously shuffles, glancing repeatedly down at the panty and then at you.

“we’re… in public” he stammers, you turn your head to the large window expanse, just outside was a bustling crowd of shoppers, some taking a look at the closed store. their laughter and chatting muffled.

“it’s one-sided, remember. give them a show.”

you smirk at him, and he gulps down his nervousness. slowly, a tenacious hand comes up and he unbuttons his shirt. his eyes keeps shifting up to your gaze, and then the window as he exposed his chest. then came his pants, when he lowered down to his boxers, you whistled. he was hard, precum wetting the fabric and outlining the clear figure of his cock. he shyly kicks his remaining pants off, it takes a little more mental preparation before he makes progress on his boxers. your eyes eat his body up hungrily, devouring the way his lean body shifted, nervous sweat running down his chest. the way his exposed dick twitched as it hit the cool air. he slips on the lacy panty, precum immediately wetting the fabric.

“i’m done.” he nervously mumbled, feeling more exposed with the panty on. you lick your lips habitually, hands coming up to stroke his sides. you take him by the waist, pressing his back to your chest as you walk him up to the window. he immediately freezes, shoulders bunched as his big eyes glance at the faces of each passerby. two high school girls had walked up and started to check themselves out in the window.

you could feel his fear as you fondle him through the fabric, his body was trembling, hands sweaty and stomach stiff. you lick a strip of his nape up to his ear. “look soobin, they’re staring at you.”

a low whimper trembles out from his lips, and his legs nearly give out under him if it werent for you holding him up. you stroke up from his chest down to his stomach and navel, playing with the band of his panty. causing his whole body to shiver.

snap.

he jolts, breath quickening when he realises one of the girls had taken a photo. your hand shoves down into his underwear and grasps his cock, the other hand sliding behind and playing with the rim of his hole, sliding a finger in and you realise he was already loose. he moans out loudly this time, before quickly biting his lips in realisation, they couldn’t see, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t hear.

“did you already prepare yourself?”

you raise an eyebrow, he nods.

“what a slut. did you come here expecting something?”

he nods again, biting down on his lips. you undo your belt, letting your hard cock slap onto his back. he glances behind to look at you with desperate eyes, your hand slips away from his hole, coming up to move his head back to the front, forcing him to look at the innocent faces of the two girls while he commits this sinful act. another moan slips out when you start to languidly stroke his cock, your thumb and index finger kneading at his pink nipple.

another snap.

this time the two girls aimed it lower, as if they were photographing soobin’s exposed cock. his gaze travels down on his body and the view was downright sinful. your long fingers grasped at his cock, playing with his length while the other tweaked at his nipple. you slip your length into his hole, fitting snugly. he jerks, pressing his ass back into your length, desperately rutting against you. he looks down again and eyes the red head of his cock, contrasting with the white panty, while just above it was two innocent friends enjoying their day out, having no idea what devious act was being committed right in front of their eyes. his breath hitches and his stomach clenches.

without warning you start to thrust in and out of him, he moans as his grip on the glass slips, relying on you to keep him upright. you pull him so his back was flush with your chest, before suddenly hoisting his legs and holding him up by his thighs, his knees leaned on the glass, forcing him to spread wide apart, hard cock flopping up and down with the motion. his crotch was right by the camera of their phone, and he shivers at the thought of the capabilities of the apple camera, if just by chance, the phone captures something out of the ordinary behind the glass. would they recognize him? his abdomen tightens.

“coming! please i’m coming!” he couldn’t help the intensity in his breathy voice and you speed up your pace, your fingers digging into his thighs, and for a moment the only thing you could hear in the store was the wet slapping of skin and the breathy cute moans of soobin. “are you going to come in front of everyone soobin?”

he groans lowly, ass squeezing hard on your cock as he comes onto the window. you come soon after, groaning as the warm substance fills his stomach and encases your dick. the two girls giggle to each other, talking about who knows what before they walked away. he gasps out, legs still trembling at his intense orgasm, mind fucked out as you pull out, dragging him away from the window. his tall figure slumped over yours as you situate him onto a chair. you take some nearby tissues, wiping yourself and him to the best of your ability.

“oh my god…” he breathes out after a bit. you help him slip off the item of lingerie, you’ll apologise to your friend later… for now you’ll buy this underwear, he did look awfully pretty in it. you just chuckle at him, a knowing smile.

“good?”

“amazing.” he looked like he meant it very much.

“great, because you better clean that window up.”

he jumps up, taking a cleaning cloth- “with! your clothes on” you interrupt him, chuckling at his sheepish smile as he quickly step into his pants and shirt.

“what should we do with that panty?”

“wanna put it back on?”

“no!- well, not now!”

“so that’s a maybe?”

he gives you a sneaky look. such a perverted guy, you thought.

“maybe.”

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - chapter one mafia! charles leclerc x fem! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . after preparing your whole life to be married off to a mafia boss, you now have the difficult task of figuring out your new marriage and life, ensuring they don't turn out to be miserable.

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chapter one summary . . . it's hard to process as the day goes by and you cant snap yourself out of your thoughts. it has happened but it has not yet registered, and as charles holds your hand, you can't help but let your mind wander on what comes next. (448 words) content warning . . . ( contains smut, 18+ mdni; pnv, vanilla mostly, over stim if you squint, inexperienced/virgin! reader )

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The croaking in the night gave you a sense of comfort. Leaning your arms on the balcony railing, you watched the trees sway in the cool wind. The high moon provided enough light to see the wide garden below, on which you plan to add more colour and atmosphere.

There are many things for you to figure out in the morning, the most important being getting this chaotic villa in order and mapping out the neighbourhood to find the pond where all the frogs are probably residing.

You’ll, of course, have to figure out your new responsibilities as well. As the wife of Charles Leclerc and the co-leader of the Monégasque underworld, many duties are waiting for you.

The most important of which is probably making sure that Charles didn't drive himself nuts; helping him save some sanity for family time and personal duties that come with being a mortal human.

Speaking of Charles. You heard the door of the ensuite bathroom click open. Glancing through the corner of your eye without turning fully you could see the red towel wrapped around his waist, his body shining with just a bit of the water that hasn't dried yet.

You looked back in front of you when he noticed you looking down to stubbly study him. You could hear his footsteps near and the towel brushing against his skin. He was probably drying himself.

"You'll get a cold," He muttered leaning on the railing beside you. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from mumbling a comment about him being more naked than you. And just as gently as he has been with you all day, Charles puts the red towel on your wet hair.

You turned your head, staring deep into his green eyes— a beautiful colour you could never understand. You stayed still, watching as he stood up straight to gently ruffle your hair dry with the towel using both his hands.

Your eyes fluttered shut from a stray strand which Charles quickly brushed away moving to stand behind you to take care of your hair. When you open your eyes again you see that the moon had set. It left the sky and neighbourhood dark in its wake.

You don't know where it had gone off to, but that allowed the stars to shine. And for their beauty, you admired. The Grandfather clock downstairs chimed. It was loud you could hear it from here. The old jingle and melody always scared you as a child, especially at night. You never knew you still had that fear.

Charles had noticed your jolt when the chime played. He gently moved your hair off your shoulder placing a kiss to the back of your neck.

Ding, the clock chanted loudly through the empty house, providing you with ever comfort.

You sucked in a breath when you felt the warm muscular hands wrap around your waist.

Two chimes.

The Monegasque's fingers found the string to the string to the silk robe you'd pulled from his closet. It was red. You couldn't understand his obsession with the colour.

Three chimes.

Breathing in and closing your eyes, you felt Charles peer off your shoulders, his fingers delicately pulling the messy bow untied.

The fourth and fifth rings followed as Charles trailed his hands up your shoulders, burying his face in your hair and breathing in. And if you could plead to the stars. Plead that what comes next is as beautiful as they say. Plead that they'd keep you safe.

You gulp as the silk is pulled off to fall at your feet, soft cool wind greeting your skin.

At the 6th ring, Charles wrapped his arms around your stomach and pressed the chest to your back. His body offered you heat and protection. You could feel the lines of his muscles on your back, how his thumb gently stroked the skin of your stomach.

With the next ring, you're body lit up with a gasp. Charles pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, his hands moving to your hips, giving a little squeeze.

The eighth, ninth, and tenth rings followed; each "ding!" giving Charles a cue to kiss more to touch more. And each time you stayed quiet, feeling your chest rise up and down deeply. In fear was it? Or anticipation? Curiosity? Expectation.

On the eleventh ring, you let Charles pull your cheek back so he could press a kiss to your lips. You let the stars out of your sight as you kissed back, electricity stinging you somehow in your lower spine. His lips were soft. Softer than you expected.

Feeling another set of lips on yours felt weird as well. Feelings his lips. Charles' lips. Charles' back. Charles' fingers, his arms, his chest rising and falling, the steady lub-dub lub-dub vibrating in his chest onto your back.

Such foreign. Feelings that you don't understand and don't want to end.

When the twelfth ring comes, Charles takes a step back and pulls you with him from your hips. But you don't go with him and his touch disappears. Your hands gripped the railing until your knuckles turned white, preventing you from returning to the warm bedroom with him.

You face front and look down at the garden. And for some reason, your body felt empty as you listen to Charles sigh and retreat to the warm bed.

You look up to the stars, wishing they could provide you with some comfort. And if they could talk, they'd most likely scold you.

Charles is not your enemy. He's not going to hurt you, he's shown that a lot today. He's going to be the rest of your life. And you don't want to make this situation worse. You want to be happy. You want a happy marriage.

Charles looked up from where he sat on his side, his eyes following you as you stepped inside, closing the sliding glass after yourself and taking steps till you were standing in front of him.

You pulled the two rings off your finger, sliding the wedding band back on and holding the purity ring for Charles to take. He looked up at you, understanding what you were asking him to do. What you didn't expect him to do was hold your hand and hold your palm to his mouth, leaving a kiss as he pulled the ring in his mouth.

Your face flushed red at the look his eyes gave you as he looked up at you through his eyebrows, moving his tongue in his mouth to wear the ring on his tongue.

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"Relax," Charles huffed, holding your hips down as he ripped open a packet with his other hand and teeth. "You know you can look," He says sliding the condom on.

"I— I don't know." You stutter, keeping your head laid back with your eyes screwed shut, hands over your face from the embarrassment you're feeling. The man chuckles and holds your hips. His smile widens when you yelp as he pulls your lower back onto his lap so your body is at an angle.

"I want you to look, I want you to know what's happening." He tries again, peeling your wrists off your face when he's unsuccessful and pinning them to your stomach instead. "Open your eyes," He ordered rather softly and you complied.

"There's nothing to be scared of," Charles promises as you run your eyes over the position he put you in before looking back in his green eyes. The brunette was sitting on his knees with your ass on his lap, your parted thighs at either side of his waist, his hands gently pining your wists down.

"Tell me if it's too much, if you want to stop, if it hurts, if you don't like it." He says, pulling you further up on his lap, leaning to bend his toes forward for extra support. "I'm with you the whole time," He whispered once more time, looking down at you.

Charles found himself laughing as your face flushed, embarrassed by the noise you made. "It's okay," He tells you with a smile, one that is oddly comforting. The Monegasque had barely pushed in and you'd squeaked loudly in surprise. You frowned, feeling a sense of shame and humiliation that he laughed.

A grunt left your lips as he shuffled closer and pulled you higher in his, leaning his body to yours. "It's okay," he smiles again, trying to get you to relax. You let him kiss you, hesitantly copying his movements to kiss him back. "You learn fast," Charles grunted pushing his hips and pulling yours.

A strangled cry left your lips which was swallowed in a kiss quickly by the man on top. Your hands flew out of his grip, one finding his hand another an arm. "You're doing great," His comforting voice came again, pushing further causing your body to arch up to his. He held back your arm and hand, pressing the latter to his chest.

"You're doing so good," He praised as you pressed your head back in discomfort, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "So good, amour."

"You're going to split me," You whimpered, digging your nails into his arm and heels in the mattress. The feeling was foreign, stretching you out too far in hot pain. You didn't know what to make of the part of Charles inside.

"No no no," Charles shook his head, leaning his hands on either side of his head so he could hold his body up and show you. "Look, you're taking me so well," He held your cheek for a moment before putting his hand on your stomach.

You're glad at least one of you knew what he was doing. When you're body accepted Charles he'd started moving slowly, you were glad that he let you hold his hands, even entwining your fingers together.

This time around, you let the noises roll past your lips as Charles thrust his hips to meet yours. He held up your hands above your head, fingers entwined, bodies pressed together, utterly connected. He drank every moan you gave him like a starved man, leaving hickeys where he kissed your neck and shoulders.

At some point you found your arms wrapped around his back, your nose nuzzled in his neck. You felt your body rock back and forth with the quick pace of his thrusts, feeling deliciously full. It felt like you were whole. Like all the wrongs in the world were correct. Like this was where you were meant to be, all along.

With every pull and push, your tummy flutters and a soft moan falls from your lips.

Charles was grunting and moaning now too, his soft breath in your ear as he whispered to you in French. And you had to admit you loved his voice, his noises. Seeing him in this state— it was a beautiful sight, one you admired with half-lidded eyes.

Hearing him call your name as he nibbled on your ear and neck, whispering things like 'You fit me perfectly,' or 'You feel so good I don't think I'll stop,' or 'You're so perfect'. It filled you with confidence maybe a bit of bravery. It made some coil— some ecstasy inside of you tighten in an overwhelming intensity. And for some reason, you wanted to snap the coil.

"So tight?" Charles huffed, trying to push deeper, to explore and memorize you. You've heard the term "cock-drunk" before and now you understand. The feeling of veins dragging against your wars, his length twitching here and there. "You're close?" Charles asked.

"Close?" You asked through pants and little moan-hums, voice barely above a whisper. You move a hand to your head and look back to see how far your head is from bumping into the headboard.

Charles chuckled and smiled. He found it cute how little you knew. "Close here," He corrected, moving a hand down to your core, catching some of your dripping arousals before coating your clit.

His smile widened at your reaction, the way your back arched up into his chest, soft boobs against his hard abs, bouncing with every thrust; the way your hand left your head and gripped on his hair instead, a full needy moan leaving your lips that you couldn't bother to subdue.

"You're so pretty," Charles says, breath hot on your chest, peaking down to watch as his thumb press on your clit. He smiled again with a low laugh at the way you squirmed and moaned, pressing your face further into his neck. "I love how you react to me. So perfect for me. So Pure."

You felt his weight increase on you, a breathy moan echoing in your throat as he reached deeper inside you. "You're— s— so far in," you try to speak, looking in his eyes with furrowed brows.

Charles chuckles down with a, the hand he'd used previously to hold himself up with now cups your jaw instead. "Am I?" He asks, kissing you. You nodded, humming a 'mhm'. "How far?" He asks further, pinching your clit between his forefinger and thumb.

"S— so far—" You cut yourself off with a gasp and a whine, arching your back up and trying to pull him down. "Charles," the name is begged quietly. Charles only smiles softly, panting as he presses circles to your clit with his thumb, watching you squirm and whine.

"So sensitive aren't you? So pure. For me to love. For me to take, to ruin." He hums, thrusting a few more times until your body spasms beneath him. He relished in the loud whine, leaning his hands on either side of his head as he fucked you through your first orgasm while you hold onto his shoulders whimpering beneath him as the pleasure becomes too much.

Charles slows down to a stop before you're overstimulated. Gently, he takes your hands from his shoulders and presses kisses to your forehead, whispering praises in French. You didn't understand a single word but you still loved it.

You leaned up to catch his lips, cupping his cheek as you kissed passionately. His warm hand held yours once you pulled away, holding your hands in his lap as he sat back on his knees to look at what he'd done. The image of your rising and falling chest, your spent body, and ruffled hair cascading your face sticking to your forehead with beads of sweat.

"Charles— nghh," You whimpered, feeling his hips thrust. You were not expecting that. Not expecting more. White hot euphoria that made you squirm in discomfort.

"Sorry sorry," Charles apologised, thrusting his hips and watching as your body rocked and jolted. "I'm so close, I'm gonna cum," he heaved, relishing in the feeling, moving softly to not overload you too much.

"You're doing great, so great," you could only screw your eyes shut, shuffling your legs at his sides as he chases his pleasure. And as promised, he climaxed on top of you. You could feel his body shudder and hear a low moan. You watched as he slipped out, both of you tensing for a second before relaxing and falling back with a moan.

You gladly climb onto his chest with his help, holding your hands to your chest as he hugs you, his finger brushing through your hair, a feeling you're starting to adore. "How do you feel?" he asks and all you can bring yourself to whisper as you nuzzle in his neck is a quiet, "Empty," He chuckles, kissing your head as your eyes flutter shut.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter thirty

Summary: How does it end?

Warning: Duel POV. The tiniest mention of sex.

Word Count: 1471

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Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Epilogue

A/N: I can't believe this is almost the end. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

Bucky’s POV

The memory of you standing by the sketch of him lingered in Bucky’s mind, a haunting melody that he couldn’t shake. Your words echoed in his eyes: “For my entire life in this city– all I see is you.” It felt like a revelation as if he could see something shift in you at that moment. Yet, he was unsure how to process the emotions that stirred within him. 

Bucky decided to spend the day with Leah, taking her to a place that once brought him solace to help clear his mind. The lake was nestled away from the neon lights and the city’s hustle, a place the two of you had often retreated to. He thought bringing Leah there would help him find some clarity. 

The ride to the lake was quiet, nothing but the hum of the bike, and Bucky’s clouded thoughts. Leah noticed his distraction from the moment he picked her up, but she chose not to press him about it. He did wonder if she sensed the undercurrents of his unease, even though she seemed content. 

Just as he remembered it, the lake water shimmered under the late afternoon sun, and the trees whispered in the gentle breeze. Leading Leah to a secluded spot, the familiar surroundings tugged at his heart. 

Leah wandered around, taking in the scenery. Her eyes fell upon something carved into the bark of an old oak tree as she approached it. A curious smile played on his lips as she turned to Bucky. “Hey, Bucky… come here!” she called out.

His heart skipped a beat when he recognized the tree she stood by. Your initials and his, intertwined and etched into the tree– a memory, a relic of your shared history.

“That’s adorable,” Leah said, her tone light but knowing as she gestured toward the markings. 

Sighing, Bucky ran a hand over his hair. “There’s something I need to tell you, Leah.” 

Her smile faded slightly as she looked at him expectantly, sensing the seriousness in his tone. 

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage. “I love her, Leah. I’ve tried to bury it, to move on, but I can’t.” 

Leah remained calm, almost resigned. “No way, I’d never would have guessed.”

Bewildered, Bucky looked at her meeting her gaze. “You knew?”

“Of course, I knew, dumbass,” she replied, amusement sparkling in her eyes. 

“Wait,” Bucky’s confusion deepened. “Why… why did you stay all this time?”

Her expression softened, and affection flickered in her gaze. “Honestly, I was never looking for anything serious, and it was clear you weren’t either, not with anyone else anyway. Oh, and the sex was great.” 

He realized just how perceptive she had been all along and her honesty struck him. He thought he must have been a dumbass, thinking he could keep his feelings for you buried while being around Leah.

“I do care about you, Leah,” he began, his voice filling with regret. 

She smiled, understanding etched on her face. “I know.” 

The weight of unspoken truths settled between them as they stood in silence for a moment. The lake, the tree, your initials– all symbols of a past he couldn’t escape.

Leah’s gentle voice broke the silence. “You need to figure out what you want, Bucky. And I think you already know.” 

He nodded, his heart filled with mingling gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you, Leah. For everything.” 

“Hey, this isn’t a farewell speech, yet,” she chuckled softly. “We’ve still got plans with everyone at the bar later, remember?” 

“Shit,” Bucky laughed, the tension between them easing slightly. “You’re right, do you want to leave now, then?” 

As they rode back to the city, Bucky reflected on his gratitude for Leah’s understanding. A strange mixture of relief and anticipation coursed through him as he thought about a chance to confront his feelings. 

~

Cry Baby’s POV

The evening approached and you began to get ready to meet with everyone at the bar. You tried to push away the complicated feelings that surfaced whenever you thought about Bucky together with Leah as your phone buzzed with a text to confirm they’d be there.

When you arrived at the bar, your friends were gathered in the usual booth. A comforting, familiar atmosphere was created with laughter and music filling the air. Greeting everyone, you exchanged quick hugs and caught up on their latest news. 

While in mid-conversation with Sam, the door swung open, and Bucky walked in with Leah by his side. Your heart flipped at the sight of him, yet you tried to keep your composure steady and stay focused on your conversation.

Bucky’s gaze found yours almost in an instant, and for a moment, it was as if no one else in the world existed. A small, tentative smile tugged at his lips before Leah pulled him toward the group.

~

The night wore on as you tried to focus on your friends, yet your attention kept drifting over to Bucky. The easy way he interacted with Leah, the smiles they were sharing, every second felt like a dagger to your heart. Lost in your thoughts, you almost missed a particular moment that shattered your fragile composure. 

“Sweetheart,” the nickname used amid a casual conversation, snapped your thoughts back to reality. The word hit you like a punch to the guy as the realization that he wasn’t directing it to you, but instead to Leah. It felt like every memory you had of all the times he’s called you that flooded your mind, the term of endearment that had always been yours– The smallest piece of the connection you cherished. 

Your emotions began to boil over, and you couldn’t stay there any longer. You bolted from the booth without a word, rushing out of the bar. As if in sync with your turmoil, the night air was cold and damp, pouring raid as the sky opened up. 

The rain soaked through your clothes as reached the bikes lined up outside the bar. Each breath you took hitched with sobs, the chill of the rain mixed with the heat of your tears. The plan was crystal clear as the rest of the world blurred. You turned to see Bucky as his heavy footsteps approached you from behind. His face filled with concern, his eyes held an urgency that mirrored the storm within you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle as he reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand. His touch was a warm contrast to the wet, cold rain. 

You struggled to find the right words, the rain began to mingle with your tears as they spilled down your cheeks. “I can’t sit in there and listen to you call her that,” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you finally looked up at him. “I know it sounds pathetic, but that’s been ours since we were kids, Bucky.” 

For a moment, Bucky’s eyes widened in shock but his hand stayed gently holding your cheek, smoothly rubbing his thumb against it. The only sound between you was the relentless patter of rain hitting the pavement, as he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. 

“I’m in love with you,” your words spilled out in a rush, the adrenaline that coursed through you drove it to admit the truth to him. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I can’t watch you be with someone else anymore–”

Before you could continue, Bucky’s lips met yours. The intensity takes your breath away. Everything around you seemed to disappear, there was only the two of you standing in the rain, together. The kiss was filled with years of unspoken emotions, everything you had been hiding.

His forehead rested against yours when he pulled back. His breath was warm as it mingled with your ragged breaths as he spoke. “I’m in love with you too,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’s always been you, I just… I didn’t know you felt the same way.” 

Wrapping your arm around his neck, your tears mixed with the rain as you held him tightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” you said, your voice choking on your emotions. “I, I, I,” you stuttered unable to find your voice again. 

He shook his head, placing another kiss against your lips. “It doesn’t matter now,” he murmured. “We know now, and that’s all that matters.” 

The rain continued to pour down, chilling you to the bone, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered in that moment was you were finally together, your hearts laid bare. 

The pain, the confusion, the fear– in that moment, you knew that everything you had been through had led to this. Standing together, Bucky by your side, you were ready to embrace whatever came next in the open road of the future.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Epilogue

[toulousewayne]

Batfam and Batsis Headcannon: Ages 21-23

Damian:

The headache Y/n felt forming after finding out about Bruce and Talia having a son was painful.

“After all those talks he gave me about protection.” Dick scoffed.

Y/n looked at her new brother who looked like a feral kitten who was ready to claw and hiss at anyone who approached him.

“Tt, I don’t see how you are Father’s Daughter, your mother wasn’t even married to him. Meaning you hold no claim to Father’s company or his assets.” He spat. He was quite smug with himself.

“Listen pipsqueak—“ Tim started but Y/n motioned for him to stop. She turned her attention back to Damian.

“Look I don’t know what you were told but I promise you I don’t want to run his company, hell I’d rather not be heiress to the money either. Bruce is my Father not my atm or trust fund. And if that’s all the things you’ve been led to believe then you’re sadly mistaken.”

Damian lunged at her and quickly moved out of his grasp, she turned towards him and flipped him onto his stomach and pinned his arm back.

Dick and Tim stood there in awe.”I know you’re an assassin kid, but make no mistake I will break this little hands of yours if you try that again.” She left the room without another word and Damian grumbled as Tim chuckled smugly in the corner.

Damian avoided Y/n while she visited the Manor. They spoke a total of two times in the first few days. By day three Y/n figured he’d be more settled into his new home that she could formally introduce herself. She was wrong.

Damian took one look at tried to go in the other direction and she called him but he was too fast for her. She was in her room on a call with Stephanie and Cass who were gutted she wasn’t staying longer, Barbara could be heard in the background on a call with Dinah and Helena.

“You guys know you can visit anytime, besides my roommate when back home to Chicago. So, for the rest of the term I have a whole dorm to myself.” She giggled stuffing some sweaters Alfred had bought for her as he knew winter was approaching and she’d be up late in the library across the campus.

“Well you’ll be back in three weeks for Christmas Break, plus maybe this weekend we can have a day trip I heard Metropolis Mall is having a huge sale for Black Friday!” Stephanie squealed with excitement.

Cass nodded in agreement,she turned her head and looked closely at the screen before speaking.”Damian.”

Y/n world around to find the youngest Wayne in her doorway easedropping.

“I’ll talk to you guys tonight when you stop by before patrol.” They two waved and she hung up turning to the doorway.

“Come in Damian.” Reluctantly he entered her room with a blank expression.

“Wayne.”

“Wayne.” She replied in his same tone.

He looked down at the ground before speaking,”Grayson talked to me about my actions. I wanted to apologize for comments earlier to you.” He never met her gaze and she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not the first kid to come in here and feel outraged or confused about your new life Damian, and knowing Dad’s track record I can’t say you’ll be the last. But I accept your apology. Mind telling me what’s behind your back though?”

He handed her a small wooden bird, it was cured and whittled to his shape and it was beautiful sculptured. “Grayson always mentioned your fascination with birds.”

Y/n smiled an took the little bird figure,”thank you Damian it’s very thoughtful of you.”

“I would appreciate if this conversation never made it to Drake.”

“Whatever you say kiddo.” She chuckled. As time went on Damian was less abrasive towards the older woman. Usually when the girls would visit her Damian would tag along, of course he said he was forced to come but that was lie. Or when Dick or Bruce would FaceTime her and Damian would demand to talk to his sister but would instantly just ask her about her studies and when would she be returning home. It was kinda cute.

When she returned for Christmas she wasn’t surprised to see Damian tending to his animals but rather who was helping him. A new kid.

Duke:

Duke had heard a lot about his new sister from the other boys, from Cass even Alfred talk about her too.

She was able to get to know Duke when everyone was out running errands for Christmas and he was the only person at the Manor.

“Oh Hi Y/n, Alfred asked me to hang up the garland. Did you need something?”

“No Duke, just passing through, I’m surprised you picked the red and gold one, no one picks that one.”

“Really, I think it’s the most festive.” He chuckled and she entered the lounge and helped him. The two crackled jokes and finish decorating the lounge by the time Alfred and Bruce returned.

“I must say you two make excellent choices with decorations.” Alfred commented.

On Christmas Eve Duke wasn’t around lot of the family. When Y/n asked around no one had seen Duke since Breakfast. Y/n found him in the backyard sitting in the snow. She approached him with a cup of hot chocolate made by Jason.

She sat next to him in silence on noise was them sipping on the hot beverages and sounds of clatter and music from the manor.

For a while they just enjoyed each other company until Duke broke the silence. “Do you think their proud of me, with my decision of be Signal and applying to Gotham University?”

Y/n took a sip of her drink once more before replying,”I think your parents are very proud of you Duke, I believe they would not only want you to be surrounded by people who love you. But to also following your own heart, do what you feel is right for your life.”

He grinned to hisself before speaking again.”I guess so my Dad always wanted me to beat to my own drum. I just..I don’t wanna let anyone down, my parents, Alfred, Bruce..you.”

She turned to him,”Me?”

He nodded softly. “Everyone talks so highly of you, even Damian. I was scared that I’d let everyone down.”

“Duke Thomas Wayne! You could never let me down, I’m sister I’m not going to make you feel bad about your decision. Besides have you seen the rest of the family, just finishing High School is enough to make Alfred happy.” The two busted out laughing before the wind and the snow began to fall down.

“Come along little Brother it’s getting cold and so is the rest of my cocoa.”

On Christmas Morning everyone torn into their gifts and after that everyone opened their gifts Duke found Y/n in the library.

“Hey, thank you for yesterday, I just talked to Dick and he helped me finish my application for Gotham University and I may even have submitted one last night Metropolis University too.”

She chuckled,”Aww Duke that’s amazing I can’t want for them to come in the mail.”

Y/n helped Duke a lot with his last remaining High School affairs like signing up for the SATs, applying for other colleges one that were so close to home in case Duke wanted to try something new. She even helped him with his AP homework though she did secretly get Jason’s help with his English papers and Tim definitely didn’t glance over and make notes on his math homework to help him understand the concepts better.

When his letters did come in the mail he was accepted into Gotham, Central City, Bludhaven and even Star City top universities. But Duke was unsure of himself again and called Y/n who had returned to Metropolis to finish her last few weeks of her degree before graduating that spring.

“What did I say before Thomas, don’t sell yourself short. You earned those spots and if they aren’t where you wanna go you don’t have to. Follow your own drum remember.”

He grinned,”Thank Sis, I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, now before i go will you please tell Dick and Dad that I will call them later, they keep calling and texting me.”

Duke doubled over laughing before telling her he’ll tell them.

Duke was the first one in the car the day before the family went to Y/n’s Graduation, him and his brothers fought over shot gun which was vetoed by Alfred who made them all sit in the back of the car.

By the time the got their the ceremony had begun and a small crowd burst through the auditorium and made their ways to their seats where Clark, Lois, Jon and Diana were already sitting.

“Late again?” Diana chuckled.

“Bathroom breaks.” Bruce replied.

Luckily Y/n was next and the group from her family was so loud that the crowd chuckled and some joined in too.

She was top of her class and even gave the speech for them.

After walking outside she was swept up to strong arms.”I’ve very proud of you.” Bruce said.

“Thanks Dad, but you’re crushing me.” Bruce reluctantly released her but she she immediately hugged by her brothers and sisters.

“You’ve made us so proud little Bat.” Dick practically sob.

“Grayson can you please stop with the dramatic.”

“Well what will you do know, are staying here or will you move back to Gotham?” Tim questioned.

She shrugged,”I dunno I will come home for a bit before I decide though.”

A choir of Yes from Damian, Duke, and Alfred didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well whatever you decide, we’ll be here for you.” Jason side hugged her.

Alder sobbed and received everyone attention,”it feels me with joy to know at least one of you finished college.”

“But Alfre—

“Silence Master don’t ruin my moment.” Bruce rolled his eyes as Clark and Lois chuckled and Diana shook her head before turning to the graduate.

“Well young one you’ve accomplished much today and I think you should be very proud of yourself.”

“I am thank you guys for coming.”

Tim scoffed,”B practically ran half off the inmates into their cells to not miss today.”

Everyone chuckled as Bruce looked aloof and starting walk towards the door,”I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

—-

I hope you enjoyed this miniseries. I will do more with different people in the DC Universe.

Specifically with the other teams next to either the JLU or the titans or all of them in some capacity.

My asks are open so please, leave me any Requests! ☺️

[bigassmoonchild]

The Aftermath

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2k

The first part does give context, but isn’t required for this read.

Summary: You knew the difficulty the process of being a mated Omega in the military. You understood how much you would lose, but you never thought about the difficulty in your normal life. Never thought about the panic you would have, or how much it would effect you and Ghost's personal relationship.

Content Tags: Hospitals, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I was not expecting such a good response to Maple Syrup, and since y'all seemed to like it so much here's basically the next part. Let me know if you want anything specific, my asks should be open. <3 I'm adding a 'keep reading' link to make sure you can scroll on if you want.

Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Everything felt wrong. Ghost wasn't injured, but he was being held overnight in the medbay. The Maple Syrup had run its course through him, but he could hear chatter echoing in the room. He could smell you, you weren't too far from him but he wasn't allowed to see you. Price had come in not too long after the doctors had checked him over and cleared him, arms crossed as he sat in the chair next to the bed Ghost was in.

"We'll need to talk, you know," was the only thing Price had said, leaning back and relaxing in the chair.

"Is the Doc okay?" Ghost asked, looking in the direction your scent was coming from. The sickly sweet smell of heat was becoming stale, but you were on lock and key just in case any Alpha soldiers tried to come in. Price looked in the same direction, giving a faint shrug.

"I'm going to be updated once she's steady enough for the doctors to leave her alone," Price said. "Gaz is on watch outside her room," Ghost nodded. Gaz was a Beta, so it would be fine for him to be that close. Ghost still didn't like it, he didn't know how his pack was, where everyone was, if everyone was safe.

It took a few hours, it was well past midnight before any movement came from the direction of your room. The curtains surrounding Ghosts bed was moved, the Doctor gesturing for Price to follow him. Ghost had tried to listen in, but it wasn't worth it. He was still in mild pain from the mission, the place where the tranq had stabbed him still throbbed every so often.

Price walked back in some time later, looking at Ghost with a sigh. That didn't make him feel good, panic started to flow through him, thoughts of you dying flashed in his mind for a few moments.

"She's gonna be fine," Price started. "They got her heat back under control, they're just waiting for it to finish cycling through her. Outside of that, she's fine," Price sat next to Ghost. "I can't ask you about what happened. I can only tell you what will happen," he looked away.

You woke up, head foggy and throbbing with a headache. You could see a form moving next to you, checking your vitals. You gave a soft groan, your neck throbbing alongside your core. Everything hurt, but you weren't able to tell if it was everything.

"You finally waking up?" The voice asked, and you could recognize it. "You've been out for a few days, you've even had Ghost trying to get in," she giggled a little. Amanda. That was her name, she was one of the nurses you'd been working with prior to the mission that went south.

At the mention of Ghost, you sat upright, vision spinning before righting itself.

"It was a really bad heat you were sent into, y'know. Took us a few hours to stabilize you, but you're doing good for yourself," she smiled, trying to lay you back down but you pushed her off of you.

"I need to talk to him," god even your throat hurt. She nodded slowly, sticking her head out of the door. You rubbed your head, headache now making you feel sick. It took a few moments, but you heard footsteps come in the room, a figure standing next to you. When you looked up, it was Price.

"There are some procedures we need to go through. I've already got some officers in, but we still need to talk about what happened," Price started, moving to sit in the chair near you. "Ghost has already spoken with them, so it'll be you, me and the officers. I think Laswell has flown in as well," you stared at Price.

With a few blinks, you looked down to think. Ghost had already spoken with the officers? You knew what the rules were like, and you knew that your career was now in his hands. It pissed you off, if you could really focus on feeling much outside of pain.

"The officers are trying to get him to make a decision on your career. I can't let you two talk about anything yet, the Adjutant Officers still need to figure things out before you'll be allowed near each other," Price looked away, your jaw tensing. You really had no rights anymore, did you?

It took another few days before you were released. The second you had clothes of your own to wear, you were gone off into your room.

Someone had been here. You could smell a stale scent, but you weren't able to place it. It was too distant to be able to decipher, but your room was exactly the same as it had been left before you were hospitalized. You didn't feel comfortable in your room, knowing someone had been here.

A knock on the door made you spin, nerves set tight. As you opened the door, a large figure came into view.

"Doc," Ghost started, before being yanked into your room and having the door slammed behind him. You turned on him, staring at him sharply. You pointed, opening your mouth before shutting it and groaning, running hands through your hair.

You kept trying to start talking before you stopped yourself, eventually kicking at the wall in irritation.

"What did you say to them?" You hissed, back still turned and facing the wall. You could hear him shift behind you, boots scuffing against the ground. You turned, storming up to him, chest to chest. "What the hell did you tell them? You gonna dismantle my career? Make me some fucking house-omega?" You were growling now, you could feel your muscles tensing.

When he didn't respond, you groaned, tossing your hands up in defeat and walking away from him. You turned, hand on your hip, waiting for a response.

"I don't want to take your career away," he whispered, finally. You barked a laugh, rubbing your wrist against your bitten gland. His hand reached out to grab you, but you moved away from him. "I don't want to make decisions for you," he added, voice growing more desperate.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from your gland and shaking them out. Ghost reached out to you again, hand catching your shoulder before you shrugged him off.

"I don't know what to do," you whispered. "I'm terrified, because now I'm outed to so many people, and there's quite literally nothing I can do to save myself," you turned to look at Ghost.

He scoffed. "You think I'm going to ruin things for you? I've already told you, I don't want that kind of control over you," he looked away, crossing his arms. You could smell the distress on him.

"You have done shit to make me trust you!" Your voice raised before dropping, a hand running down your face. "I have zero control left, you know how many rights I have as a mated Omega?" He shook his head. "None," you glared at him.

Ghost glanced at you before looking away again. He shook his head, moving to leave before you blocked the door from him.

"You don't get to walk out when we're talking," you growled at him and he growled back.

"This isn't a conversation, this is you getting all pissy on me," he loomed over you, forcing you to take a step back. "I didn't want this to happen, I would have chosen any other way to save us, but we didn't get a choice, did we?" You looked away.

"Get out,"

He could smell the distress on you the second he spoke. Your scent left him spiraling, he was panicking. His Omega was distressed, and he was the cause. He wanted to fix it, correct the problem and make you happy again.

Ghost could do nothing when you repeated yourself.

"Get the hell out," you glared at him. Ghost opened his mouth to give you a retort, but you had turned away. He bit his tongue, turning to stare at the door.

"You know that's not what I meant," he whispered, opening the door and leaving.

Even after walking aimlessly for ten minutes, he could still smell your distress on your scent, the sour taste stuck on the back of his throat. This wasn't how he had intended to talk to you, he wanted to make a plan for when they asked him more questions regarding your career.

Ghost was pissed off, more so with himself than you, but he wanted to comfort you. Fix what he had said, take it back.

But he had a meeting to attend, and he needed to make sure he didn't say anything wrong.

You sat in the conference room, Price, Laswell and an Adjutant officer sitting across from you. This was the third time you'd gone over what had happened.

"So you say this 'Maple Syrup' is what caused Ghost to go into a feral rut?"

"Yes," you deadpanned, glaring through the Adjutant. "We've already been through all of this, there is literally nothing else that I haven't told you," the Adjutant hummed.

"We need to make sure everything is covered," he told you, looking at the paper he had been writing on for the past hour and a half.

You looked at Price, hoping he would help you in any way. He looked away, leaning further back into his seat.

"What about my career?" The room went silent, the Adjutant stopped reading, glancing over at Price who had finally looked at you. "I want to know what's happening," you whispered. The last few days had left you unsure of yourself. You wanted to confront Ghost, you wanted to apologize for snapping at him, you wanted to fix what you'd said.

None of them spoke, Laswell had opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking a deep breath. Her fingers tapped on the table, looking at Price and the Adjutant.

She looked back at you. "You aren't allowed to make any decisions regarding that, you know," your head dropped back with a groan, wrist rubbing against your bitten gland roughly. You were terrified, you didn't know what the future was going to hold.

You had so little control and it was getting worse. You stood abruptly, going to walk out the door before Price spoke.

"Would you like to speak with Ghost?" You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. With people around, you wouldn't snap on him, but you also didn't want to see him since his last remarks. You really needed to know if you still worked here, or if he was going to force you to become a house-omega.

You nodded, turning around and sitting back down while staring Price down as he made a phone-call. A few moments later, Ghost walked in and sat beside you, but you still couldn't look at him. It was silent for a few minutes, everyone looking at each other, waiting for the first to speak.

"You still have a job here," Ghost spoke up. "I didn't let them remove you, but they won't allow you on missions anymore," he added the last part quietly. You nodded.

You could hear Price and Laswell ushering the Adjutant Officer out of the room, the door closing with a click behind them. Neither you nor Ghost talked for a few minutes, you could smell a certain level of stress on him.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing quickly at him. He was staring at you, eyes watching your every twitch and shudder. "I'm... sorry, for the other day," you fiddled with your fingers. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ghost shook his head, hesitating before grabbing your hand, pulling it close to him and in turn tugging you towards him. You finally turned to look at him, and his eyes visibly softened.

He looked down, then back up to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I did. Not in the way I did," he tugged you even closer to him, nuzzling into your gland. "I don't regret having you as my mate now, but if I could've changed what I did, you wouldn't be stuck with me making decisions for you now," you leaned in to him, pressing your face into his chest.

It relaxed you, his scent, and allowed you to think much clearer.

"I'm just so scared,"

Next

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away. 

word count: 1,443

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread

The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet. 

“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”

“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside? 

“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try. 

“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”

You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered. 

The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”

But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then? 

Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”

Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside. 

You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. 

After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased. 

A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens. 

Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came. 

What was wrong with you? 

You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them. 

You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”

Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.

“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”

A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”

“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”

“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted. 

“Why?” you begged. 

“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”

Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”

Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”

He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”

“What if you tire of me?”

“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”

“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”

“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”

You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless. 

When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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

Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.  

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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

The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

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

An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

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

You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

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

“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way.  She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence? 

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[bluebeary-jay]

Midnight kisses

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Jackson celebrates the New Year’s Eve, and you're thinking about finally confessing to your crush how much you like him. but Joel Miller, the object of your affections, might have other plans in mind. (based on this adorable request!!)

Tags: FLUFF my beloved 🥰, Joel is very flirty in this one, lots of crushinggg, just old sweet mutual pining (also they're both lovesick idiots)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk, jealousy, age difference

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: i had a lot of fun with this one 🥰 thank you so much once again for the request, dear, i hope you'll like what i came up with. (btw this was supposed to be a short fic but it seems i'm unable to write one 😔) still i hope yall will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in a full swing.

You didn’t expect anything else from the Jackson community. Ever since you arrived here, you were astounded by the effort that the people living in this small town were making to create a life as normal and joyous as possible – for their children and themselves. And today, on New Year’s Eve, they outdid themselves. There was food, music and drinks – almost as if the apocalypse outside those walls never happened.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping on your beverage while you waited for your friend, Angie, to arrive. Dancing alone didn’t sound like an appealing idea, so while you waited for her, you opted for some people-watching – though if you were honest with yourself, it was more like ‘person-watching’.

Your eyes strayed to a figure on the opposite side of the room for like a twentieth time, but you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Because there stood a man who still, even after more than a year of knowing him, made the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Joel Miller.

He looked really good in a clean flannel and fitting jeans, you conceded. His hair was slightly wet, like he washed it just before coming to the party, and combed a little to the back, making the silver strands in his hair and beard shine in the low lights. You found yourself unable to look away or get rid of that stupid grin on your face that lingered when Joel smiled lopsidedly at something his brother said. The muscles in his arm bulged when he lifted his glass to take a sip, and you watched the lines of his neck when his throat bobbed...

“You’re ogling,” murmured a voice next to your ear, and you jumped a little in surprise. Next to you stood Angie, smirking at you.

“Jesus, Angie.” You put your hand on your chest, your heart pounding rapidly. “A ’hello’ would be nice.”

Your friend knew, of course, about your massive crush on Joel Miller, and you thought more than a year of pining on your part would cause her to grow bored of all the jokes and teasing that she threw your way. Apparently, you were wrong.

“Hello,” she said, then sat down on the other chair and leaned closer to you with a wide smile. “You’re ogling. In a room full of people, may I add.”

“I’m not,” you murmured defensibly, but your face grew warm at the realization that she caught you. “How long have you been standing here, anyway?”

“Like half a minute. By the way, you’re also drooling.”

“I’m not!” you repeated, now in an irritated whisper. You knew you weren’t drooling, but still had to refrain yourself from wiping your mouth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. “Stop making things up.”

“You should just go talk to him.” Angie casually nodded in Joel’s direction. “He didn’t come with a date, sooo…”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s waiting for someone.”

“Uh, duh!” Angie flicked you on the forehead, and you hissed. “For you to make a move. You can… oh, I know!” she bounced in her seat excitedly and clapped her hands. “Ask him to dance with you!”

You almost snorted. “Joel Miller dancing? Sure. He wouldn’t agree even if he did like me.”

“He does like you. Jesus, you flirt with each other all the time.” The smile disappeared from her lips and she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to notice. And maybe dead.”

“There’s no flirting, I told you.” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at the object of your affection. “He talks in this way to everyone.”

“He never called me ‘darling’,” Angie retorted. “Or gave me his jacket when we got caught up in the rain.”

You smiled softly at the memory, but that just made you feel even more hopeless, because since that day, you weren’t able to have a normal conversation with the man you liked so much.

“What do I do?” you whined, leaning on the table. “He’s so beautiful. And he for sure doesn’t see me that way.”

“Are you drunk already? You said you didn’t want a repeat from–”

“–from last year, yeah,” you finished for her and sighed. “I’m not drunk, just feeling down. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell him I like him, Angie.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” Your friend nudged you gently. “You can just inconspicuously take him under one of the mistletoe and go ‘oh, what’s that?’, and then…”

“What mistletoe?” you asked, only now looking up at the ceiling where familiar-looking leaves were tied with a string to the support beams under the ceiling and above the doors. “Why is there mistletoe hanging?” you asked skeptically. “It’s a New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think they haven’t taken it down since last week.” Angie shrugged, but then grinned at you. “Don’t you think it’s a sign, though? So many places to kiss your crush under~...”

“Jesus, keep your voice down,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” she mocked in a low voice. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know, babe,” you whined, and sighed heavily again. “You know what, maybe I should just forget it. Let’s go have fun, dance, and later throw up from all the food and…”

Suddenly, Angie interrupted you with a high noise in her throat. You gave her a questioning look and she looked at you with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes.

“He’s coming here.”

“What?!” You automatically turned around before Angie hissed for you not to look, and sure enough, there was Joel Miller, making his way through the crowd with his eyes locked on you. “Oh my god,” you breathed, clutching at your friend’s hand. “He must’ve seen us talking. What do I do?”

“You sit there and look smoking hot, and let him flirt with you,” she answered with confidence you didn’t feel. “And maybe you won’t even need to ask for the kiss, maybe he’ll do it for–” Her eyes darted above your shoulder. “Oh, hey, Miller.”

You gulped and took a deep breath before turning around and– oh, God, he looked even better up close.

Angie kicked you lightly under the table when you didn’t say anything, and you cleared your throat, smiling up at the man you were so crazy about. “Uhm, hi, Jo– Mr Miller.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, sugar?” He had kind of a boyish smile on his face that made him look younger and even more handsome, which in turn made your stomach fill with warmth. He sat down next to you, and his eyes scanned you down and back up, slowly, lingering on your legs and curves just for a second longer. “You look lovely.” He then glanced at Angie, sending her a nod. “Both of you.”

“Really?” you beamed, and Angie kicked your ankle again, making you wince. “Uhm, thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.”

A trace of smirk ran across his face, but it was gone before you could make sure it was really there in the first place.

“Are you enjoyin’ the party?” he asked casually, hiding one hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Your eyes followed his movement before you caught yourself.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice. A little too loud for me, but really nice.”

“Maybe you wanna step outside for a bit, then?” Joel nodded in the direction of the deck in the back, and your heart started beating faster.

Did he want to be alone with you? Or was just being polite and preferred to talk somewhere quieter, and you were getting your hopes up unnecessarily? You hoped it was the first, that he genuinely enjoyed chatting with you as much as you did with him – but you never knew with a man like Joel Miller. He was an enigma, sometimes serious and so stoic that you couldn’t for the world figure out what was going on in his head, and other times charming and teasing, making you weak in the knees when he was looking at you with that fiery glint in his eyes…

“Sugar?” Joel asked, lifting his eyebrows with what seemed to be amusement, and you cursed yourself mentally for spacing out.

“Sorry, I… Yes, let’s– sure, let’s go.”

All of you stood up and you looked over your shoulder at Angie with a panicked face, but instead of reassuring you, she sent you a quick, sly grin.

“You two go ahead,” she chirped. “I’m gonna go look for my date.”

“Angie–” you whispered, giving her a look, but the woman just winked and turned around, disappearing into the crowd of dancing people. “Angie!”

Before you could go after her, you felt a big, warm hand on the small of your back, and your entire body tensed. Joel leaned over to your ear, whispering in a low voice.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah,” you squealed, so quietly he probably didn’t hear it over the loud music. “Sure.”

Your legs moved on their own, going where he guided you. The walk to the terrace in the back lasted no longer than fifteen seconds, but it felt like hours had passed. You were very aware of the light pressure of his fingertips on your back, with only one layer of material separating your skin from his, and the nerves of feeling him so close behind you were making you walk stiffly and oddly – though, miraculously, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t like how loud the music is, either,” Joel said after you two exited the main room, and he closed the door. Then he glanced at you again, his eyes flicking to your bare legs just for a second longer. “Are you cold?”

“No,” you answered truthfully. Not only was it nice to feel the cool air after sitting in a stuffy room with a crowd of people for so long, but also you still felt warm from Joel’s closeness. “I’m alright.” Joel nodded absentmindedly, and you squinted. “Did you want to talk about something or…”

“Nah, just wanted to escape for a minute.” He rubbed his beard and shrugged, but there was tightness to his body language. “Not much to do in there except for drinkin’.”

“And dancing,” you cut in.

Joel glanced at you, and the lazy smirk returned onto his features.

“You like to dance, sweet girl?” he asked, and you felt your face growing hot when you heard his tone. Low, drawling and oh, so delicious.

“If the party is good, yes, I guess so.” Then you remembered what Angie suggested earlier, and you took a shaky breath, mustering all the courage you had in you. “We… if you want, we could dance a little later, if they play something nice…?”

But the hot nerves in your chest turned to cold disappointment when Joel started to shake his head with a chuckle. “Nah, darlin’. Sorry, I don’t… I’m no dancer.”

“Noone here is,” you retorted, a bit hurt by how quick his rejection was. “It’s just for fun.”

“I know better ways to have fun than t’make an idiot of myself in front of bunch of people.”

“Like what?”

Of course, you just had to ask.

Joel smirked, as if he was just waiting for it, and took a step forward, forcing you to take one backwards. His brown eyes bored into yours, making you weak in your knees, and you promptly turned your gaze away, not able to withstand the tension in the air. With a cough, you walked up to the wooden railing, pretending that you weren’t feeling sheepish at all.

“For one, talkin’ here with you is fun enough for me.”

You forced yourself to look at Joel when you heard it, just to see if he’s joking, but the man appeared genuine. He leaned against the rails, his hand right next to your shoulder, and you couldn’t get rid of the thought of how easy it’d be for him to cage you in this spot with his strong arms, how he’d make your entire body tremble…

But you weren’t quite sure yet if he was being sweet or just tried to mess with you, so you decided that a teasing response would be the best course of action.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged lightly. “I’d still like to find someone to dance with tonight.”

At that, Joel’s hand gripped the railing tighter and his body stiffened. You had to hide a triumphant smirk on your face, pleased that you managed to throw him off his game – whatever it was that he was playing.

“One of your friends?” In your peripheral vision you saw him lifting his eyebrows with the faintest of scowls. “Or one of those shady guys sittin’ at the bar, staring at pretty girls like you? ’Cause they’re no good for you, darlin’.”

“Oh, really?” you scoffed and lifted your chin, feeling touched that Joel was acting so protective – (and maybe even… jealous?) – about what you said. “You were the one that didn’t want to dance. What do you know about what’s good for me, anyway?”

“Those guys won’t treat you right. They just want a girl to spend the night with, and you deserve better than that.”

He was right, of course, but it didn’t mean you were going to openly give him his due. You made an acknowledging noise, not really sure what to say, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a quiet, raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. “You deserve someone who’d take real good care of you, darlin’. Not some drunk out of their ass idiot.”

“Are you drunk, Mr Miller?” you asked, not looking at him in fear he’ll see how red his words made you, though you could still see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“No.”

“You act like you are.”

“C’mon, sugar, look at me.” He took your chin between his fingers and your body went rigid. His warm gaze met yours for just a second, and he tilted his head forward a little. “Do I look drunk?”

“A little.” You turned your head away, but he tsked and guided your chin back.

“In the eyes, darlin’.” You gulped at his words, and his dark, brown irises twinkled in the fairy lights dangling from the roof and walls. “And call me Joel, please.”

His chest was almost touching yours, and you felt the wooden railing digging into your lower back, but at that moment you didn’t mind at all. Joel was so close, and your breath hitched in your throat when you got enveloped in his earthy smell, with a tinge of bonfire and… was that cologne? For some reason the discovery that he used cologne for tonight made your heart flutter.

But as much as you loved every second of being so close to him, you remembered that you weren’t alone on the terrace. There was a pair of people talking – well, now kissing, judging by the sound of it – and your eyes darted to the side to see if they were looking at you both. “Come on, there are people here. It’s not…”

The man clicked his tongue in disapproval and moved slightly closer, now practically pinning you against the railing with his body, and you squealed unwillingly when he, once again, made you look at him.

“Eyes on me.”

And God, if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen or heard. It was unfair how much power his gaze and tone wielded over you.

“Okay,” you managed to whimper, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards, creating that adorable dimple in his cheek.

“And my name, sugar.”

You didn't know why you were complying so easily, but something about the softness and tenderness in his voice made you feel safe. He wouldn’t hurt you, of that you were absolutely sure.

“Okay, Joel.”

His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip with the softest of touches, making your legs almost turn to jelly. It made you want to say his name again, though in a much more needy tone.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel murmured with a smirk, never looking away.

Lord, have mercy.

You were so grateful for the wooden rails behind your back, because you were sure you’d collapse any second now if he kept looking at you like that.

“I… Joel…”

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he murmured without taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Your brain was mush at this point, but even if you could formulate any words, you doubt you’d ask him to step away. So you settled on shaking your head slightly, to which Joel nodded. “Lemme know immediately if it changes, darlin’.”

How could you be so blind? All you could think about was that Angie was right – there was no way Joel Miller wasn’t flirting with you. Maybe he even liked you. Maybe – just maybe – he wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

“Didn’t you wanna… get back to the party?”

You didn’t make any move to get away yourself, however, not wanting him to drop the arm with which he was holding your chin. The material of his shirt was bulging over the lines of his biceps, and it felt really nice to stand so close to him.

“I’m in no rush.” Joel’s voice dipped, and your insides tightened. “You?”

“No, but–”

“Here you are, you ol’ fucker!”

Joel took a step back, and you both turned to see his younger brother walking clumsily through the door with a big, drunken grin on his face. You cleared your throat, still breathless and blushed, but both Millers didn’t pay you any mind anymore.

“Tommy.” Joel’s face was like made out of stone, but his eyes were betraying how irritated he was with the interruption.

“You thought you’d manage to get away, ya old dog?” Tommy hooked an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and finally looked at you to send you a wink. “Sorry, sweetheart, gotta borrow ‘im for a second. He has a date to get to.”

It took you a couple of seconds to register that yes, you heard him right. A heavy veil of hurt and disbelief slowly fell down on you, and your eyes started to prickle as you looked from Tommy to Joel.

“A date?”

He had a date. Why then did he talk and act this way with you, making you feel like you ever had a chance with him?

“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Tommy said to Joel instead of answering you, and tugged the other man back inside, but Joel didn’t move. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even get lucky tonight!”

That you couldn’t listen to.

Trying to hide how painful his words were to you, you ducked your head and tried to slip past the brothers, desperate to get out of here. A hand – which felt so achingly familiar now – shot out and grabbed your elbow before you could escape. You lifted your tearful eyes only to meet Joel’s sorrowful ones.

“Darlin’, wait. It’s not…”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, tearing your gaze away. “I wanted to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

Joel looked like he wanted to say something else, but you couldn’t bear being in his and Tommy’s presence any longer. You slipped out of his grasp, quickly coming back inside and navigating your way to the bathrooms.

He had a date for tonight. And still he flirted with you and touched you so lovingly, and… and almost…

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think you ever had a chance.

You dashed into the bathroom and quickly opened the first free stall you saw, then shut it behind you. There you just slumped against the wall and wrapped your arms around yourself, giving in to the flow of your tears, but trying not to make a sound.

You felt so foolish for letting yourself fall under Joel Miller’s spell, for ignoring that he obviously couldn’t be interested in someone like you.

He probably saw you as a dumb child. No wonder he’d prefer someone else, probably a woman closer to his own age.

But why did he have to be so cruel, to lead you on and hint that…

No, you realized. It was your own damn fault for letting your heart justify his every action towards you.

Almost ten minutes must’ve passed before you got a grip on yourself and decided to go find Angie. You needed to talk to someone, preferably distract yourself from the unpleasant situation you had to experience, and maybe try to salvage the evening somehow. With that in mind you took a couple of breaths, wiped your eyes and then hesitantly exited the bathroom.

You only managed to take a couple of steps, however, before your eyes were drawn to a familiar and beautiful side profile. You wished you didn’t know his face so well, because then you wouldn’t see Joel whispering something to a stunning woman you didn’t know at the far end of the room. She was hanging off his arm, bright eyes and a million-dollars smile directed solely at him. Joel appeared to be looking around, but a few seconds later he put his hand on the small of the woman’s back – just as he did earlier with you – and started walking. Neither of them looked your way before exiting through the front door and leaving the party.

As well as a gaping hole in your heart.

*****

A few minutes later you managed to find Angie. You were a mess at this point, barely able to stop yourself from sobbing. It was truly pathetic.

“I don’t know her name. But I saw them leaving, and she was hanging off his arm and–” you choked on your words and gave a humorless laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m so sorry, hon.” Angie looked at you sadly. “We can ditch the party if you want. Go to my place and watch some movies,” she suggested gently, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no. I’m fine, really, I… I think I'll just go home. But you should stay with your girlfriend.” Angie looked like she was about to protest, but you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m okay. I’m just gonna go straight back home and lock myself inside with a bowl of ice-cream. Or go to sleep.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“I… I think I need to.” You gave her a weak, sad smile, and stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? You have fun, I don’t want to ruin your night, too.”

“You’re not ruining anythi–”

“I mean… this. All of this stuff with,” you swallowed heavily, “him.”

Angie still seemed unconvinced, but finally nodded after a while. “Alright. But come and get me if you feel worse.”

“I promise. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded, then went towards the side exit and out into the snowy night without looking back. You didn’t want to stay here and watch as all those happy couples share sweet kisses at midnight, thus reminding you of your heartbreak.

This time you had your coat on, but it was far too thin for this kind of weather. You wrapped it tighter around yourself and hid your hands in the pockets, starting to make your way home. It was a bit far from the main square, but you needed to get away from the music and laughter of the partygoers as quickly as possible.

Alas, you only managed to walk one street away when out of nowhere, a big hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait.”

You turned around and took a step backwards at the same time, freeing your arm with a strong tug. The words full of anger were ready to spill out of your mouth, but that was until you saw who stood in front of you with a painful expression.

The last person you expected to see here.

“Joel?” You whispered surprisedly and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. Not that strange woman you saw him with, at least. “What are you doing here?”

“I was lookin’ for you,” he rasped between gasps, like he ran all the way here. “You weren’t at the party.”

“Why were you… What are you doing here?” you repeated more coldly, the sight of him only making your fresh heartache so much more noticeable. “I thought you left.”

“M’so sorry.” Joel’s beautiful dark eyes were full of sadness and weariness. “I would have never left you if I could help it, darlin’.”

He took half a step forward and lifted his hand slightly to graze yours with his icy-cold fingertips. You weren’t wearing any gloves either, so his touch sent a jolt up your arm. You looked down at it, but gently moved your hand away. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you have a… date?”

“No.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. You avoided his eyes and instead watched as snowflakes landed and melted in his hair. “No, it was Tommy… You saw how drunk he was, and he wanted to set me up, insisted on talking to that girl, but I…”

“You should get back to her, then,” you said dryly, really not having strength to even hide how hurtful his mere presence was. You went past him, hiding your neck in your coat. “I don’t want to keep you from–”

“Darlin’, wait.” Joel grabbed your arm again, though still gently and without any force. “Listen, she was nice, but I told her that I can’t get involved in anythin’, because I…” He faltered slightly when you looked him in the eyes, for the first time since your talk on the terrace. “There is… it’s– fuck.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “There is someone else,” he finally spoke, his voice almost trembling, and looked at you again, “that I’m madly in love with. And it’s you.”

Through the open door to the party someone shouted what sounded like the time, but it was all happening in the background of your mind. All you could focus on was Joel, standing so close to you and looking almost scared as he waited for your reaction.

Cold crept up your limbs and up to your cheeks while you tried to digest what the hell you just heard, but as if held by the invisible force of his gaze, you couldn’t move an inch.

“...what?”

“I… really, really like you,” Joel whispered, his dark and sad eyes drilling into your unbelieving ones. “I went to this party just to see you, darlin’. And I’d never chose to spend the evenin’ with anyone else but you. I’m so sorry I left you like that and…”

He then gulped and very slowly lifted his hand to your face, not fully cupping your cheek but hovering just above it. He searched your eyes, but when you didn’t back away, he touched your skin carefully, and an involuntary sigh escaped you as your eyes fluttered closed.

You never thought one could be touched with such care and fondness. No one has ever treated you like that before, like you were made of the most precious glass.

“You can tell me to fuck off,” Joel whispered, and you opened your eyes to find his face a little closer than before. “I just thought that maybe… if you would maybe, too…”

He was getting flustered again, and it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. It must’ve been close to midnight now, because you noticed that the music stopped and the racket inside the building was at its peak, though it was hard to distinguish the words people were shouting when your heartbeat was almost deafening in your ears.

“But I saw you leaving with that woman.” You had to make sure you were on the same page with him before you did something idiotic. Again. “You aren’t…?”

“No,” Joel breathed a quiet chuckle and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, while his eyes danced across your face. “It’s only ever been you, darlin’.”

Then he must’ve heard something – his head turned to the side to look at where the party was still going on, before his eyes returned to you, and you felt his thumb swiping your cheek in an oh, so tender manner.

“May I?” he asked in a whisper, so close that his breath skimmed your parted lips. You hoped he was asking about what you thought, but this time wasn’t brave enough to ask and clarify.

So you just nodded.

And Joel leaned in, without any hurry, and kissed you.

It was fitting, you supposed, that only a couple of seconds later the clock chimed midnight, and shrieks of laughter and cheers filled the air while the people still present at the party celebrated loudly. You couldn’t care less, however, because in that moment, your entire world was Joel. His – still cold – hand caressed your scorching cheek, and the other found its place on your hip. The smell of him, the warmth with which his body radiated, and the feeling of his lips, rougher in touch than you’ve imagined, but still soft in movement – all of it together was almost overwhelming.

You parted after a while with blissful sighs, though didn’t move away – Joel still held you close, his forehead pressed to yours, and eyes shut tightly, as if he was in pain. He took a trembling breath when you touched his jaw with your icy fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleaded in a murmur, taking you aback. “Sugar, if you don’t… Please, tell me to stop.”

You shook your head and held onto him tighter before he even finished.

“Please, don’t stop.”

Your lips clashed again, tongues meeting and dancing together, and it was the closest you’ve ever felt to any type of heaven in this cruel, forsaken world. Joel pulled you flush against him and kissed you again, more forcefully this time, tangling his fingers in your hair. You let out an involuntary moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound immediately, not giving you a split second of respite.

“I wanted to do it a year ago,” Joel muttered between the kisses, before he took your face in his hands to look you in the eyes properly. He smiled, that same adorable and boyish smile, when he saw how breathless and flushed you were. “Wanted to kiss you so much, sugar, but,” he obviously fought back a laugh at this point, his eyes crinkling, “you got wasted and puked your guts out just before midnight.”

“Oh my god.” You didn’t know he saw it, particularly the moment when all the alcohol you consumed a year ago refused to stay in your stomach. “I wasn’t– I don’t usually… I got drunk ‘cause I saw Sheryll kissing you on the cheek,” you admitted with embarrassment, feeling your skin growing even hotter. “I thought you and her were together at that point…”

“But why did you get drunk because of it, sweet girl?” Joel mused, brushing his nose against yours and obviously teasing you. You snorted and shook your head.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You playfully pushed him away lightly, but he tightened his grip around you, not letting you step away.

“You’re an asshole sometimes,” you whispered, making Joel chuckle. “Fine. I really wanted to kiss you, too. Happy?”

He smiled and kissed you again, softly and passionately this time, cradling your cheek in his palm.

“Very,” he whispered against your lips and dragged his nose up to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Very much, baby.”

Your heart fluttered with joy at his affectionate tone. Joel pulled away, his hands leaving your body to cover your own, situated on his jaw and arm.

“Now, what do you say we head back inside?” he asked with a disarming smile, brushing your knuckles with his thumbs. “And maybe you’ll let me ask you for a dance?”

You didn’t give an answer, but the joyous kiss you pressed to his lips – which, with your enthusiasm, almost made both of you topple over into the snow – spoke for itself.