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chilumi-shipper · 2 months

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Not Meant for the World

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Servant!Reader

Summary: You fell for him, he fell for you, it was the typical start of a relationship, only problem is… well, he's him and you're you. A Commissioner who holds power over the nation, and a servant that basically amounts to nothing in the whole scheme of things. It was a mutual decision to keep your relationship a secret, only to be kept within the dead of night in his bedroom, evaporating before the sun could even rise for another day. But then… Ayato seems so keen keeping it a secret forever, letting the stream of wedding proposals and love letters flood in, going through great lengths to make sure the information doesn't leak out, almost like he's ashamed of being with someone like you. You could only take so much of that.

Tags: Angst no Comfort, Hidden Relationship

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"You should probably go back to your quarters." As you were snuggled up to your lover's chest, enjoying his warmth under the covers of his bed, he spoke.

"But it's barely time." You whined, pressing your body closer to his and rubbing your face on his chest.

Back then, he would cave, he would chuckle and wrap his arms tighter around you, saying that you could stay for a little bit more and that he didn't really want you to leave anyway.

Now… he pulls away from your embrace, sighing as he looks you in the eye.

"It would be best to elliminate all the chances of us being caught, and I believe that some of the servants have been getting up early to start their shifts." He reasoned, his hold faltering as you feel his arms slip off you.

You felt a clenching pain in your chest as you slowly get up, looking around his room, you didn't want to leave, and yet when you looked at him, you felt like you were being pushed away.

"Okay… I guess I'll get going now…"

This is the part where he would usually kiss you and remind you that he loves you…

It never came…

You left his room without another word.

…

"Is it perhaps too much to visit a festival together?" You asked, not expecting a pleasurable answer from the Yashiro Commissioner sat on his office chair and drinking a cup of tea you prepared for him.

"I believe it is, being seen in public in a non-professional setting would be rather suspicious if it's just the two of us." Ayato responds firmly, oblivious to (or perhaps just ignoring) the frown that formed on your face.

"We've been out together multiple times…" You reasoned, though you sounded unsure, not wanting to sour his mood and lessen your chances of getting him to agree to your proposal. "We haven't been on a date in a while."

"The families offering up their daughters to me are very vigilant of my public movements, suspicions will arise if they were to see me with any lady for no particular reason." He did not even spare you a glance, answering swiftly as he always does.

Yet again, you fail to persuade him to be with you. You prepared to say more, but a knock came before your words.

A guest came to the estate, a father of one of the many noble ladies offering their hand in marriage.

Long story short, he's here to talk marriage business, as these fathers always do.

When the guest left for a moment, "My lord, I just need a few more minutes to talk to you." Many times, you have tried to intervene, not satisfied with how your conversation earlier abruptly ended.

"Y/N, there are matters more important than this. Wait a moment." He pays you no mind, but you have had enough. "You are being too obv-"

"Ayato, stop." You spoke firmly, freezing him in his place. "I'm still talking to you." You approached him, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, he turned around to face you, his eyes held an unfit expression for him, almost like nervousness. "Y/N, let's not do this now…"

"Do you still want to be with me?" You asked impulsively, stripping the formalities and simply talking to the man you knew as your lover. Your eyes fill with tears, looking at him being lost for words. You hoped his answer would be immediate, that he would exclaim that why would you even ask such a question.

As you stood there, "Lord Kamisato, come along, don't let the servant keep all of our time." The guest came back, standing beside Ayato, who had yet to say anything.

No words were spoken, but the Commissioner knew that right there, right in front of the unknowing guest, in your watery gaze, he had a choice to make.

"Why don't you get us some tea in the meantime?" The guest spoke up again referring to you, but you have no intention of moving until your lover finally speaks up.

With a gulp, Ayato stood his ground. "Yes, please prepare us some tea, Y/N. No more of your nonsense."

A single tear, that's what you allowed for him to see as you nodded silently. But as you prepared the tea, your vision was blurry from the neverending tears, your sobs couldn't be controlled as you struggle to catch your breath.

But you needed that, you needed that to remind yourself that you are merely a servant.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The Yashiro Commissioner sat on his bed that night, looking at the door to his room. His heart was beating fast, hoping for it to open and show the figure of his lover, though the odds are against his desires.

He hoped that maybe you'd spare him a chance, that you'd walk into the room and tell him that you'll allow him to show you how you much he truly loves you.

The door remains close. And so does his heart begin to ache. Ayato didn't sleep that night, he merely lied down and looked up at the ceiling, trying to imagine your warmth embracing him, trying to make it seem like your side of the bed wasn't left cold.

…

"My Lord…" His eyes looked up from the document he's been staring it for the past hour when he heard your voice… calling him in such a cold manner. You said nothing more, placing a tray of tea and pastries on an empty spot on his desk.

"Ahh, thank you…" Ayato looked at your face, hoping to see your usual smile whenever you served him his afternoon tea, yet your face held nothing but a blank expression. You merely bowed at him, before leaving without another word.

Your name was at the tip of his tongue, and his entire being screamed at him to just say it. He wanted desperately to call for your attention, but, though he did not want to admit it… he was scared…

You stopped in your tracks, remembering something that you had to discuss with him. Ayato, ever so perceptive of your actions, perked up.

"You have a meeting with the head of the Tenryou Commission later at noon, something about an agreement with regards to your relation with his daughter." You did not bother to face him to give him the reminder, opting to walk away once you finished your sentence.

The Yashiro Commissioner's face fell as he watched you leave the room, his heart still heavy, and his mind cursing at him for not having the guts to talk to you properly.

…

The pain felt more real once he entered his room for the night.

The place has been wiped clean of your existence, the covers have been changed so not even your scent lingered, some of the clothes you kept in his closet are gone, the vase of flowers you like to decorate his nightstand with is gone…

The framed picture of the two of you that sat on his nightstand is gone…

It felt suffocating…

With a sigh, Ayato closed the door, not wanting to see such a sad space, he instead went back to his office.

As he sat on his chair, he opened one of the drawers of his desk…

A smiled couldn't help but form on his face, a bittersweet one, when he saw the picture of you that he kept there a long time ago.

He laid his head on his arms on the desk, your picture next to his face. He figures that it was the only way he can sleep without feeling the suffocating emptiness of his room weighing upon him.

…

Today is the day the festival you were so excited about starts, and it's already been arranged for quite a while that today is your day-off. "…Y/N was really hoping that I'd join her at the festival." Half of

Thoma's words were muffled, but he could make out your name and the festival.

The blond retainer was asking for a day-off as well, to go with you.

Something uncomfortable boiled in Ayato's core, you asked him to join you back then, and he said that he couldn't. Yet, all he wishes now was to accompany you, to be by your side and not have to think about keeping your relationship a secret.

"With Y/N…?" Ayato asked, his voice laced with disappointment that did not escape his retainer's ears.

"Is something the matter, my Lord?"

Truly did his entire being want to disapprove of Thoma's request, he wants to go to you and offer to go with you himself.

"No, I'm quite alright, Thoma…" The Yashiro Commissioner heaved a sigh. "I'll allow your request."

You spent your day at the festival with Thoma, and it was obvious that you enjoyed it given the large smile that was plastered when you got back to the estate.

Meanwhile, Ayato spent his day at his desk, looking at meaningless paperwork while dreaming of being hand-in-hand with you at the festival, imagining that you would eat your heart out with all the streetfood available, watch the firework show when nighttime falls, and dance slowly at the festival music at midnight when everyone else already left.

That night though, he approaches you, his heart pounding when he caught your attention. "May I… ask you to sleep next to me again?"

He was tired, he could only take a week of sleeping in his office because his room haunted him too much. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know how to even start explaining himself, doesn't know how to win you back, to say that he does choose you over any form of nobility that he has.

You smiled at him… emptily.

"I'm your servant, my lord. If you wish for me to, I will."

So you did, you slept next to him, he hugged you tightly, snuggling you up to his chest, yet you refused to hug back, to nuzzle in his embrace like you used to. You merely did as you were requested.

Ayato tried to ignore the tightening of his heart just before sleep and exhausted took over him.

But he couldn't ignore the chill he felt when he woke up hugging nothing. It's just as it should be, the servant listened to her lord, and now she left to do her other tasks.

It was crazy to hope a relationship like yours could work out. Kamisato Ayato felt a few tears fall from his eyes, now, he wished for you to stay.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Yo, it's 3am and I'm gonna sleep now.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin imagines #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato angst #genshin ayato

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orchidbreezefc · 1 month

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ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.

161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.

imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.

maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.

on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.

and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"

if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?

when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.

also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?

it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.

#martin blackwood #tma #the magnus archives #tma meta #the magnus archives meta #tma 161 #mag161 #sage speaks #sage original post #meta #im sure others caught it that i didnt see but listen. i was DEEP in the fandom. people getting it made up maybe 1% of the response i saw #and i had people fighting me for saying it #alcohol cw #alcoholism cw #addiction cw #greatest hits #wonderful news: tma fandom WAS ready to hear me say this!

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helluvapoison · 3 months

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For All to See

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x Lilith

Lilith has Lucifer and Lucifer has Lilith. Their eyes are well trained for snakes in the garden, they’re able to watch each other’s backs with ease. Everyone wants to know, just who the fuck are you to the King and Queen of Hell?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Technically speaking, they don’t need you

• Your heart lurches at the constant reminders

• Everywhere you look there’s capable hands doing anything you could do, and doing it better

• The guards around the Morningstar estate are appreciated and skilled but merely for show, their wise (albeit chaotic) council of Princes have never led them astray and they have more willing servants than they know what to do with

• It’d be impossible to forget how agonizingly obvious it is that you’re not needed beside them. Occasionally it was a paralyzing thought. You were nothing without them but they could continue on just fine without you

• And Lilith, ethereal, graceful, benevolent Lilith, noticed this. Her own heart ached for you, she loved you!

• You tenderly brushed her hair when she hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Combined with her husband’s efforts, you would make her feel beautiful when her mind told her the opposite. You would be on your feet beside her all day, shooting little thumbs ups that restored her energy when she was nearly depleted. Your unfailing attendance from her concerts to afternoon tea brought a comforting sense of normalcy to the disorder of the realm she ruled

• Lucifer, who loved you no less than she, was furious at himself for not realizing on his own

• You were his alarm clock, gently coaxing him out of bed and making the day seem more inviting than it did when he opened his eyes. You snuck into his room when everyone else (Lilith aside) was banished, claiming only to drop off a tray of snacks but would sit with him for hours on end just so that he wouldn’t be alone. When the world was too big, his own thoughts too heavy, it was you that made him feel bigger and stronger

• And you thought of yourself as inconsequential!?

• Blasphomy.

• They would not let this stand another fucking second

• They covered all their bases, working from the inside out

• You were instructed to join them for a portrait. Lucifer picked your outfit while Lilith did your hair then they sandwiched you between them. It took several hours and you ached from standing still for so long but the painting looked absolutely marvelous. Lilith ordered it to be hung in the lobby

• “Not the bedroom?” You asked quietly, tilting your head up at her

• “As much as I’d love to, no. This needs to be seen by our guests! Besides, I have your darling face right there every morning.” She replied sweetly and kissed your cheek on her way out

• You were utterly floored when you saw a detailed third chair, right to Lucifer’s, in the throne room. Meetings were only held here once a month for the public to bring their qualms to the royals but they took a full day to bring to conclusion. Lucifer’s smile widened at your reaction

• “Do you like it?” He asked knowingly, “It’s for you.”

• “Me? I— yes! Yes, it’s lovely. I just don’t understand, I-I was alright standing.” You blink rapidly, your mind racing to catch up with his words

• “Don’t be silly, dove! These matters are a bore and take eternity. This was long overdue.” Lucifer takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, smiling at you apologetically

• Polygamy wasn’t something to clutch pearls over down here and you were never a dirty secret. Magazines, networks, media just happened to only feature the King and Queen of Hell (Later, Lucifer would always point out the blurry spec that was you behind them or to the side or cut off the page) So when you were yanked between them during their red carpet debut, you stared at the camera flashes like a deer in the headlights. Their grips on either of your hands kept you from floating too high

• While your view on the situation changed drastically, it wasn’t atonement enough for Lilith and Lucifer. They never wanted you to feel immaterial ever again

• “You’re not nothing to us,” Lucifer said, holding your left hand. He hid his face in the crook of your neck where you could feel him smiling against your skin

• “We would never abandon you,” Lilith whispered while slipping a matching golden band around your finger. She had you sitting in her lap, facing away from her. She held your hand up for you to see the new obvious, your next reminder of their devotion for you

• Suffocating on their love for you, you choked back a sob to not ruin the moment. Lilith wrapped her arms around you and Lucifer, bringing you both closer to her heart

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lilith morningstar imagine #lilith morningstar headcanon #lilith morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader x lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader x lilith

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caffeinewitchcraft · 20 days

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The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

-------

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them? Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It’s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“—an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

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

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kaidabakugou · 8 months

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𖤐 OCTOBER 14TH | "PRIMORDIAL CHAOS" 𖤐

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌! 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐗 𝐅! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

♱ — 𝐖𝐂: 6.7ᴋ

♱ — 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: ᴀᴀᴀᴀ ʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀʟʟᴍᴇɴᴛ! ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇ! ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʏꜱᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ!!♡

𝕬 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖌𝖔,

𝖉𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖊𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕬𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕵𝖆𝖕𝖆𝖓.

The soft vibrations of crickets fill your ears when you reach the garden of the estate. The moon peering over the clouds illuminating your path as you descend the wooden stairs onto the stone walkway that leads towards the small bridge above the pond. The sound of the shishi-odoshi begins to tune out the rhythmic buzzing of the insects that surround the area the closer you get to it as you lean over the railing to look at the koi fish below, entranced by their bright colors and effortless motions before the soft pad of feet slowly approaching captures your attention.

One of the house maids ascends the bridge as she offers you the tea you requested upon your arrival, thanking her as you watch her retreat back into the estate, the yellow hair pin holding the strands from her face catching your eye before she disappears behind the wooden sliding doors. The smell of the warm matcha fills your senses as you bring the small cup towards your lips, feeling how it eases the ache in your muscles after returning from a long mission.

More and more cursed spirits had been terrorizing the nearby villages and in a desperate attempt of survival they called upon the neighboring towns for help, you being the eldest daughter of your clan you'd taken the initiative to gather some of the capable men and journey to the villages in need. Coming from a family of skilled sorcerers, your combat skills were unmatched, much to your father’s disdain who believed your focus should be to find an honorable man to be lawfully married to. The thought alone had your eyebrows creasing in discontent while you peered down at your cup, taking another sip of your tea to bury your thoughts in the back of your mind, a problem to be settled at a later time when you face your father after leaving on negative terms. Focusing on the warmth that filled your insides with each sip while letting the soft thudding of the bamboo against the rock along the flow of the water calm your mind.

Watching how the moon reflects against the green liquid before a small snowflake captures your attention, melting instantly into the warm tea followed by another and another as the first signs of snow begin to fall gently upon your skin. Closing your eyes to soak in their comforting touch, clearing your mind as you raise your cup again - but a scream echoes through the night. The loud shrill of a woman in the distance makes you turn towards the estate, frozen at the sudden silence before a loud crashing sound resonates through the whole area making the ground shake below your feet as you take off running into the building, grabbing the Tachi sword that was mounted on display at the main entrance when you sprint past it to the source of the commotion growing louder by the second.

Your breath gets caught in your throat when you reach the main garden, the once thick and fragrant cherry blossoms that adorned the entrance now destroyed as the flames consume it to the last branch, causing a cloud of smoke to devour its surroundings. A scream coming from within the estate makes you turn abruptly as you run back inside towards the source of the sound when you're met with the horrifying sight of numerous bodies of maids and cooks slaughtered and strewn around, mangled past recognition.

The loud crash of glass breaking has you pushing forward as you step over the bodies, their blood soaking up your feet while your hands clench around the hilt of your sword as you slowly remove it from its sheath. Rounding the corner towards one of the back rooms of the estate, you can hear the large thumps of something big moving around - something deadly with the amount of cursed energy that oozed through the area, it felt more and more suffocating with each step.

Just as you near one of the doors, you catch a glimpse of the intruder causing you to hide behind one of the columns in the hallway while you peek from the side into the room he's in. Only now noticing the trail of blood leading towards his position as the faint sound of wet crunching becomes more and more eminent - is he eating someone? You were no stranger to curses devouring humans, but this was something different. Something of this size, able to cause such calamity, was a monster. One that you needed to get rid of, and fast.

The sound of quick thudding pulls you from your thoughts as you peek around the edge again, a yellow hair pin catching your eyes, it was the maid from earlier. She stood frozen in the entryway where the monster was in, fearful of her life you begin to step out from behind the column to get her attention, but just as you do so, two extra limbs extend from his sides capturing her by the head as terrified screams rip from her. But they die down just as quickly when her skull caves in under the pressure of the clawed hands that crushed it with ease as her body hits the wooden floor with a sickening thud, a pool of blood forming right afterwards as the monster continues feasting on the body in front of him.

The bustling sound of multiple set of feet resonates through the back porch as the guards of the estate burst through the wooden doors causing the monster to ram through the wall of the room into the opening where the guards stood, allowing you to see the body of the person he was feasting on now discarded on the floor as it falls down into a pool of its own blood, its head rolling out onto the hall - it was your father’s. His face plastered with an expression that was unrecognizable to you, eyes wide and frightened, an emotion your father never showed in the life you knew him, always the hard and strong man that only wanted the best for his family despite your disagreements.

Your heart was racing in your chest, head throbbing as your hands curl around the hilt of your blade, looking over at the monster with seething anger where he's battling the guards, slashing them down with his claws one by one before he captures one in each arm. Taking the opportunity of all four of his limbs being occupied, you sprint over to the beast, dashing through the air for an added advantage against his towering figure, slashing his upper left arm swiftly before your feet slide along the bloodied floor as you take a defensive stance in front of him.

Now able to take him in completely you feel yourself falter slightly at the sight. Just like his arms, there are four eyes that stare you down as you both stand frozen in place. Black tattoos adorn his body with precise double bands on his wrist and biceps forming a circle and two segmented curves on his chest leading towards his partially open kimono revealing a mouth on his stomach.

The room falls silent, only the grunts and cries of the men struggling in his grasp echo through the space while you stare at each other. His expression unmoving as if still processing what just occurred, his arm bleeding out onto the wooden planks of the floor where it layed as it begins to slowly decay into ash while his shoulder gushes with blood. His eyes drifting to the tip of your blade as he watches his blood drip from the shiny steel flashing before him. Face suddenly crackling into a violent grin allowing you to see his sharpened teeth, gory and bloodied causing you to strengthen your stance when his eyes meet yours with a sinister glint.

The men in his grasp now mangled like the rest as he crushes them in his palms, bones breaking followed by the revolting squelch of their organs scattering onto the floor as he holds the remains in his palms, bringing them towards the mouth in his stomach as it opens wide. A long tongue lolling out between rows of sharp teeth stained with corpus as it quickly devours the fresh flesh before making a scene of licking the muscles around it as if cleaning its lips. Using it to regenerate as a new arm bursts through his shoulder, replacing the one you'd slashed as all four of them flex at his sides followed by a loud boisterous laugh.

“It's been a while since someone has given me a good fight”, his voice is smooth and rich yet booming, you can feel it vibrate against your chest when he speaks and it makes you swallow thickly while you hold firmly onto your sword.

“Do your best not to disappoint me”, he mocks. And with that he's moving, fast and overpowering allowing you only enough time to barely dodge him as you step to the side before one of his large arms could catch you, unable to avoid his sharp claws as they scratch against your thigh tearing through the fabric and breaking the skin just as you find enough balance to swing your blade across his back, barely injuring him as the wound quickly seals back up.

Facing each other again as he launches for you with an even bigger grin on his face as you manage to slide down between his legs before quickly slicing through his lower right arm and rotating the blade as you strike his back once more, this time with more force as it slices from his shoulder across to his hip, feeling the resistance of bones against the metal making you plant your feet firmly on the ground, urging the blade forward until its out the other end. Blood spraying in the wake of your attack as it stains your skin, drenching your clothes before joining the mess on the floor while you hold the blade at your side, confident that such a fatal blow would subdue the beast enough to bring him to his knees and administer the final blow.

Instead, he laughs.

Laughs and laughs and laughs as more blood gushes from his wounds and before you can register it, you're sent flying into the air so far back that your body crashes through the sliding doors of the garden before colliding with the wooden gate past the pond that divided the estate from the forest. Launching himself through the air right after as he falls above you, ground shaking from the force as snow and dirt scatter in his wake, shoving you down deeper into the ground as he presses himself against you roughly while the blood from his wounds drips onto you, bathing you in it as you notice where your blade pierced all the way through the front of his chest and down to his stomach where the mouth has ripped apart.

Maniacal grin on his face as he leans down onto yours, the rotten stench of blood filling your senses before his tongue swipes against your cheek to lap at the blood on your skin, wet and violating as he hums in delight at the taste. You struggle against his figure but the sharp sting of claws digging into your sides holding you down force you to stay still as he leans over to lick from your neck towards your other cheek before drifting upwards into your hair, deeply inhaling your scent as he hums again, this time followed by another laugh.

“Oh, you certainly did not disappoint”, he laughs whilst leaning down to press a kiss to your bloodied cheek before sucking the skin in between his teeth, harshly releasing your delicate skin to lean down onto your neck and unashamedly take another inhale, raptured by the sound of your heart almost beating out of your chest against his ear and he can’t help the way his fingers twitch at the excitement building within.

“You…”, lifting a clawed finger unto your face to brush away the stray hairs that cling to your skin while he circles his large hand around your head, settling on your nape as he holds you tightly in his grasp, allowing you to fully see his face as your eyes dart along the tattoos decorating his skin, matching the ones on his body before settling onto the second face melding into his own where his eyes rest one atop the other. “...will make a wonderful hunt”, he adds as his tongue slides across his lips, like a predator savoring his prey before digging into them.

The fear in your eyes only fuels him further as he laughs while lifting himself up to his full height, bringing you up with him with your feet dangling in the air before shoving you back onto the cold snow as you struggle to catch your footing before taking off towards the woods, the wet sound of flesh melding together and bones reconstructing themselves getting tuned out by the heavy snow that darts through the wind as you disappear past the tall trees and into the dark forest with only the moon to illuminate your path.

The Tachi is long forgotten in the snow as you push yourself to run despite the ache on your body, every muscle screaming at you to run faster knowing that the second you stop, it will be all over. The cold air entering your lungs felt like it was piercing your insides as you sprint between the dark looming trees, cursing to yourself when your clothes get caught on unexpected branches, tearing the fabric and scratching at your skin while you focus on staying on your feet when the cold from the snow starts nipping at your skin making it almost numb.

But the further you venture into the forest, the eerier it got. No longer able to hear the faint buzzing of crickets, no owls hooting into the night on the crowns of trees, no foxes coming out of their dens in search of their prey before it gets too cold to hunt. Nothing. Only the whistling of the piercing snow squall around you, causing you to slow down as you lean against the nearest trunk. Dread settling into your gut as you stand frozen in place with your ear pricked for any odd sounds, the tension suffocating you while your head darts in every direction where you are barely able to see anything a few feet away from you.

The sound of a distant twig snapping causes a nauseating pit to form in your stomach as your eyes dart around the area, desperately trying to find the source of the sound as fear settles deeper and deeper into your bones. Screaming at you to run knowing you were unarmed and your cursed techniques were no match for this beast even if you tried. He would devour you before you even tried.

Snap.

The sound of another twig snapping sends a sharp chill up your spine as the air gets caught in your throat. The sound came from above you.

Your blood runs cold as you shakily push your head to look upwards. Your knees threatening to give out under you when your eyes are met with four glowing red eyes stalking down at you through the fog followed by the deadly glint of sharp canines flashing down at you. Like a spider creeping up on its prey when it gets caught in its web.

You push yourself from the tree trunk, scurrying on your feet as you try to get away from the terrible fate that awaits you. But a sharp pain erupting from your side has you wailing in agony as you get thrown off balance, tumbling into the freezing snow as you roll through the clearing of trees before your back gets pressed into the ground once more. Every inch of your body aching as you scream and thrash against the heavy weight pushing against your body. The sounds of sinister laughter filling your ears again as it echoes through the dark forest, causing tears to cling to your lashes before they spill past your cheeks.

“Shhh don't cry”, he coos as the wet warmth of his tongue hits your cold skin when he licks the tears from your face.

“You did so good”, another lick against your neck has you wriggling in his grasp.

“As a matter of fact, you did so well that I think you deserve a reward.” The booming sound of laughter vibrates every nerve in your body as it clashes with your screams when his claws rip away the last layer of clothing protecting you from these harsh conditions. Banging your fist against his chest in a final futile attempt to get him off of you before two of his arms trap yours underneath them as he drags them through the snow to rest above you and hold you down with only one hand as the other lowers to your face, sharp nails brushing the hairs out of your face gently as you try to jerk away from his touch. Suddenly gripping your throat tightly as he forces you still, crimson red eyes searing into your glossy ones in a silent threat to calm you down.

I like it when they put up a fight…”, he begins before his face falls into a scowl. “...but don't think I won't kill you before having my way with you and leave you here for the wolves to finish.”

You force a gulp down your throat where his large hand is pressed, constricting the airflow as you feel yourself starting to get light headed from the pressure. Noticing how his eyes trail down your body, fully exposed to him as you watch how both of his mouths lick their lips simultaneously, savoring the view as he openly devours you with his gaze.

The tongue on his stomach extends unnaturally long until it falls flat against your abdomen - wet and heavy as it wriggles carelessly against your skin. Dripping inhuman amounts of spit as it coats you in a warm and sticky layer of saliva while the tip stretches towards your exposed chest, your nipples already erect under the cold touch of the snow as his tongue circles the buds all while he watches you from above. Head tilted to the side with a pleased grin while fixated on the way your skin feels against his large tongue, occasional humming vibrating in his throat each time the limbs holding your figure rake their sharp nails along your skin causing shiver after shiver to flow through your flesh.

Laughing when his eyes trail up to your face, noticing how you try your best to contain the sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape you the more the large wet muscle drags against you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your voice. An unapproving scowl forms on his features as he lowers himself to hover above you, caging you beneath his monstrous figure before you feel his tongue slowly descend from your chest, past your abdomen and onto your exposed cunt causing your legs to twitch in an attempt to close them but his lower arms hold you open as his hands grip around your ankles. Caressing them slowly and teasingly while occasionally adding pressure in what almost felt like a possessive act, unable to contain the urge to mark your skin as his own as each jerk left a new scratch against your skin causing more blood to flow from your wounds.

Meeting his gaze as his grin grows large at the glare on your face, noticing how you're struggling to maintain it with each swipe of his tongue through your folds and he can't help but to be more amused at the fighting spirit within you. His canines aching with the need to taste you when the thought of breaking such strong resolve flows through his head as he lowers himself to sniff along your face like an animal before leaning down against your neck, the hot touch of his breath against your skin has you closing your eyes as you try to relish in the small warmth that it gives you in contrast to the freezing cold that surrounds you.

But a sharp sting makes you jerk against his frame. A scorching shiver flowing through your body at an overwhelming pace engulfs you completely when he buries his teeth to your side - deep enough to graze bone as you dig your nails into the palm that holds you prisoner, unable to contain your sounds any longer as mewls escape past your lips. Blood upon the snow as red begins to spill from the wound and into his mouth, drinking it greedily while you feel it pool beneath you. Smiling against your skin when he hears the sweet sounds of your voice as he drinks from you more brutally before tearing his maw away. Dripping in red as he tilts his head back, gulping it down followed by a delighted grunt rumbling deep in his chest while his eyes close in thought as if drowning the rest of his senses to only focus on the savory taste of your blood against his tongue and feel how the warm liquid travels down his throat to settle into his stomach.

The tongue on his stomach lapping at your pussy with newfound enthusiasm as if it too could feel the taste of your blood against it and you can't help arousal that starts to gather on your entrance, mixing with the slobbers that hung and dripped in frothy ropes from its mouth as the wet sounds became more and more loud.

Enough to pull the monster above you from his blissed trance as he peers down to your core, tongue lolling out to swipe along his fangs while his eyes slowly trail up your body to meet your gaze again before his features contour into a delighted yet crazed smile that made his eyes glow sinisterly causing you to gulp down the drool collecting in your mouth as you watch him slowly inch closer as he lowers himself onto your face again. Inhaling deeply before swiping his tongue along his lips, cleaning the blood that remained there.

“You might just be…”, he lowers his lips onto your cheek again to gently suck on it while his sharp teeth ghost along your skin and lean back until it slips from his mouth before leaning back down to rub his cheek against yours.

“... Different from the others.” The smooth skin of his face feels almost gentle against you as if providing a false sense of security only to feel the sickening stinging of his fangs sinking into the already broken flesh of your neck once more as a scream rips from your throat.

Sucking on it messily before pulling back as he holds the thick liquid in his mouth while trailing down your body. The tongue from his stomach ceasing its rapid licks as it retreats back into its mouth causing it to reveal the two erect cocks that stood bulging against what remained of his kimono. One of his large hands rises to unfasten it, fully revealing their lengths to you, long and veiny with oozing tips ready to sink inside your heat.

Kindle eyes meeting your widened ones as you watch him unhinge his jaw over them as blood starts to flow from his mouth and onto his cocks - your blood. Warm and sticky with the mixture of drool as it drips along his lengths and onto your messy skin until the last drop of blood flows from his mouth before lowering himself onto you. Dragging them along the length of your pussy with a loud squelch as he teased you with them while still staring deep into you, soaking in the way your expression falters with each jolt of pleasure that sends through your body each time the thick creamy tips of his cocks catch your clit, swollen with need as it grows more and more sensitive with each swipe.

A low laugh rumbling in his chest when he feels your thighs begin to shake against his frame, the hands that were gripping your ankles now dragging their sharp claws along your calves, circling your thighs before resting on your hips where they carelessly dig into your meaty flesh to hold you in place while his large frame spreads your legs wider when he presses against you more.

Lowering himself to cage you beneath him again while his free limb reaches down between your bodies, gripping his lower cock before aligning himself with you while the other rests atop your clit. Causing you to tip your head back, pressing your skull against the snow when the protruding head enters your pussy sending a burning rush through your body as it stretches you open for him the deeper he sinks into you before slowly leaning back to thrust forward again. Not giving you enough time to adapt to his size as he gradually increases his pace.

Booming laughter followed by a guttural grunt echoes through the vacant forest for only the moon to hear as she peers down at you through the snowy clouds, the only one to bear witness as you descend deeper into the overwhelming mixture of pleasure, anger and fear as the very beast that butchered your family has his way with you. Unable to contain your cries and moans as they flow freely from you the more he pounds into you, the cock resting above you rubbing quickly against your clit while drips and spurts of creamy white splatter onto the hairs above your heat.

His free hand rubs along the base of the cock thrusting in and out of you as he collects some of the messy mixture that rings around it with his fingers before guiding them up towards your mouth, pressing your lips closed in a show of defiance as the sharp pointed tip of his claws pricks at the delicate skin of your bottom lip, breaking the skin causing a small bead of blood to trickle down your chin.

He lowers himself with a deep grumble, amused at your will to still fight against him despite your current predicament as he presses his lips to your other cheek, rubbing them against your skin down to your ear where he sucks the lobe into his mouth before puncturing it with his fangs enhancing the deep roar of his voice that makes your senses shake from the intensity.

“OPEN.”

Your resolve dissipates from the overwhelming power that vibrates with his words as you open your mouth to him while his digits slip inside with ease, pressing down against your tongue as the coppery taste of your blood immediately overpowers before the array of different flavors follows suit. The sharp salty yet burning taste of his arousal contrasting the velvety sweet taste of your own, the viscous and fleshy taste of umami from his saliva, the vile and rotting taste of the gore still clinging underneath his claws from the previous carnage. All of it hits you in a flash as it drowns your senses when he sinks his long fingers deeper into your throat causing drool to pool at your mouth when you gag around them. Watching you with a gratified look before sliding his fingers back until just the tips are hooked to your bottom teeth, the point of his claws poking at your tongue forcing your mouth agape.

“There you go”, he coos. “Taking me like the obedient whore you are”, eyebrows frowning in anger when the degrading name reaches your ears as you meet his gaze in discontent to which he only laughs followed by a sharp thrust of his hips that causes you a shiver to travel along your spine as he buries his cock in your wet heat all the way down to the base before the arm that was holding yours above your head releases you.

Brushing through your hair to grip at your scalp, keeping your head still to look up at him while he peers down at you whilst you drag your arms down through the snow before reaching up to cling against his large frame. Your muscles feel slightly numb from the pressure of his strength when they flex to dig your own nails into his flesh, the faint sting feeling almost comical as a breathy laugh blows from him, its warmth hitting your skin as it makes your eyelashes flutter from the proximity.

“I think you're just about ready to take me whole, don't you?”, tilting his head to the side as his eyes fixate on the way drool collects at the corners of your mouth while he holds it open.

An obstructed “what?” begins to vibrate in your throat but it's quickly interrupted by the thick weight of his spit hitting the back of your tongue as you struggle to swallow with the digits that still pry your mouth open. The same digits that quickly slide along your bottom lip to circle around your cheeks, his palm pressing into your chin and before you can register it, his lips are on yours. Hard and demanding paired with the smooth yet imposing feel of his tongue swiping along your teeth before pressing it against yours, pushing his spit deeper into your mouth as it mixes with your own until you no longer can resist the urge to swallow - oddly hot and impossibly sticky as it struggles down your throat while the wet muscle slithers out of your mouth with a satisfied hum, leaving thick and stringy threads of saliva connected between you before it curls back into his own allowing you to take sharp gulps of cold air again.

Another confused protest builds in your chest but that gusting laughter of his quiets your voice as he quickly removes his cock from you, sharp canines only flashing brighter when he feels your pussy constrict around him trying to pull him back inside before it slides out with a slick pop as bloody strands of arousal stretch between your bodies.

The feel of sharp claws digging into your hips sends a burning sting across your skin before your no longer peering up at the moon, flipped over as you knees dig into the icy snow followed by your elbows when he presses his weight against your back, his warm skin against your cold flesh as one of his arms travels from your hips and along your torso curling around your neck to pull you back and press you further into him. Feeling how one of his cocks twitches against the dip of your spine while the other rubs hard between your thighs as it leaks onto the snowy ground.

Another set of claws trickles down the center of your spine, slow and calculated until it curls around your rear to grasp at it with more vigor, giving it a firm shake before reaching down to rub against your cunt as he collects the mess that drips from your pussy onto his palm whilst he drags his digits through your folds - slick and swollen from only taking one of his cocks as his touch has your eyes rolling into your skull. Feeling how he rubs his palm up towards your puckered hole to coat it with your release and blood before pressing his thumb around the rim, using the messy slick as lubricant to stretch your rear open as his thick digit breaks through the first ring of muscle making you fist the snow below with a groan at the initial sting.

A content hum vibrates from deep in his chest against your back as his thumb pushes deeper into you until its fully nestled inside before removing it slowly to introduce another finger, gradually spreading your hole open until you're able to take four of his long digits with ease as the squelch of his fingers toying with your insides causes your thighs to quiver while he nuzzles his nose at the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin when he feels you tremble beneath him.

Removing his digits as webs of slick stretch between his fingers when he reaches for his cock, guiding it from your lower spine to align with your gaped hole before slowly thrusting inside, the thick head sliding in with ease after being stretched and you can't contain the moans that spill from your lips when the cock resting between your thighs simultaneously presses against your clit sending jolts of pleasure through your body with each jerk. Gradually shoving more and more of his length while his nose hovers above the wound on your neck, oozing fresh blood as he takes a deep inhale before you feel the hot touch of his tongue lapping at the crimson liquid. Slowly licking around the surface where his fangs pierced the skin as he brings his lips down to the opening, encouraging more blood to spill into his mouth while the sound of his gulps echoes through your ears.

The hand that was spreading you open suddenly curls around your front as his lips detach from your skin whilst you feel the digits around your neck twitch against your skin, holding you in place as you watch him spit the viscous mixture of saliva and blood into his hand before it disappears from your sight. A jolt erupts from your body when you feel it press against your cunt, rubbing the slimy liquid through your pussy as his digits spread you open while sharp claws ghost along your sensitive skin with each motion causing something to twist in your gut.

Reaching for the cock between your legs as the one in your rear eases its pace, coating it with the remaining slick in his hand as he gives it a few pumps before you feel the large tip rub against you, throbbing with each swipe as wet noises fill your ears again the more it collects the mixture of bloody spit along with the arousal dripping from your pussy onto the thick head of his cock as it presses into your entrance making you squirm against his grasp when it pushes into you. Already feeling impossibly full with the cock buried deep in your ass, but the feel of claws threatening to rip through the skin of your hips forces you still as they hold you in place whilst the hand around your throat twitches again as his tongue returns to the wound above your shoulder.

The overwhelming feel of everything at once causes your jaw to slack against his touch as moans continue to spill past your lips the more his length sinks deeper into you. Spreading your pussy open on him as the cock in your rear throbs against your tight insides, moving in par with the other. You feel your breathing become more labored as you lift one of your hands from the snow to clutch onto the one around your throat, his skin feeling hot in your touch as your ears pricked at the sound of low rumbles erupting from deep within his chest when his cocks nestled fully inside your warmth, the vibration spreading across your skin where your back met his chest as his nose trailed up to your hair. Inhaling your scent before slowly pulling his hips back, the thick veins on his lengths rubbing through the velvety walls of your core making you gasp at the sensation until only the tips remain inside as all 20 of his fingers press deeper into your skin when he thrusts his hips forward again with a loud wet squelch that clashes with the purring emitting from his chest whilst your entire body flushes hot in contrast to the cold that surrounds you.

Tears welled in your eyes the more he quickened his thrusts, driven savage as he splits you open on his lengths whilst your blood eases his vicious pace against you. Stuffed beyond limits whilst the sweet sound of your moans only fuels him further as he feels himself get closer to his release. Teeth aching with the need to bury themself deep in your flesh as he sinks them into the side of your neck that remained untouched, now bloodied and ripped as your skin gives away under the force of his hungry maw. Gore spilling into his throat as his purring becomes wet with your blood as a groan builds in his throat when he feels you gush against his cocks, withdrawing from your neck to peer down between your bodies - crimson stained grin spreading wildly at the sight as he fixates on the way your holes stretch around his lengths leaving a thick creamy ring of arousal at the base that he can't resist to taste as the tongue on his abdomen extends to lap at the mixture.

A content groan resonating through the loud vibrations of his chest as he lowers himself to press against your back again, the fingers at your throat flexing on your skin as he tilts your head back to look at him. Admiring the sight of you covered in the mixture of his blood and yours whilst you cry out in pleasure and pain with each powerful thrust of his hips - something snaps within him. Something he thought was long past buried and forgotten as he feels it stir deep inside of him. Something primal and carnal that has the pace of his hips faltering when he meets your gaze. Eyes that were previously filled with ravenous rage, now drowned in exhilarating pleasure - yet a hint of defiance remains, staring directly back into his own when no other would've even dared to allow the thought to enter their minds.

And the action has him erupting in a maniacal laugh that makes the snow clinging to the branches of the trees that surround you come crashing down, but he pays no mind to it as he regains the strength of his thrusts, fucking you open anew until his cocks are swelling up inside your heat before a final jerk buries his lengths deep in your warmth. Rope after rope of thick cum filling your insides as a searing heat spreads through your core, making your holes tighten around him causing the both of you to curl into each other at the overwhelming sensations that are running rampant through your bodies.

Lapping at the blood dripping from your neck in slow, unhurried licks while he soaks in the feel of your pussy pulsing around him, greedily milking him till the last drop and he can't help but smile against your mangled skin before lifting himself to lean back as his lower arms reach for your cheeks, spreading your rear as he slowly starts to withdraw from your body. Creamy ribbons of cum already seeping through the sides of your tight holes whilst you whimper at the feeling when it drips down your thighs into the snow below. His cocks popping out of you with a loud squelch and his eyes glow at the way your asshole gapes from the imprint his size left on your along with the steady flow that gushes from your pussy and he resists the urge to plug you up again and keep you full and bred for him.

Instead you feel claws travel up your sides before they curl around you, now facing him as he stands at full height with you in his arms as your exposed cunt drips onto his abdomen for his tongue to lap and the mess. Feeling a sudden warmth at your back as he shields you from the snowfall with his kimono whilst he begins to walk further into the looming forest.

“I think I'll keep you for a little longer.” He whispers against your cheek, lapping at the blood staining your skin before wrapping his palm around your chin, claws digging into you as he forces you to look at him. Searing crimson staring deep into your blissed ones before breaking into a malevolent grin as you feel his digits dig deeper into your flesh, threatening to split you apart at the thrill building within from all the thoughts running through his head. For he's never had a prey quite like yourself.

#🕸️—𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑’23 #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna ryomen x reader smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut

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r4izx · 3 months

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Worth more than what you take me for.

ayato x gn!reader

summary: in which he had to choose between two people including you, in a life and death situation.

disclaimers: swearing (there's like one lol), kidnapping, ooc traveler.

4,032 words and 21,895 characters.

a/n: dayum. this took a while and i did not expect to write this much.

you've known ayato since childhood. your parents has been serving their clan for generations, being one of their most trusted allies. and you're no exception.

growing up with people with high authorities was such a privilege. you remember when you first met lord ayato and lady ayaka. they both were very the same yet so different. so elegant, disciplined and was well mature for their age. you felt some kind of barrier between you and the siblings but they turned out just as kind as they look. they were easy to converse with. naturally, after some time of serving them, you would have gotten closer. and in fact, you did. although you thought, you and ayato's relationship was... rather special.

for some reason, ayato treats you very differently compared to others. not in a bad way. he often calls you to his workplace, make you sit there and drink tea with him. he takes you out to go eat dinner at uyuu restaurant when you both have finished work. he requested you to be his personal assistant while ayaka had thoma. and because of this, you get to spend more time with him than anyone else. at the beginning, you always thought ayato would be a cold and strict person. but it turns out to be quite the opposite. okay- maybe he is more quiet and colder than others, but that's towards other people. especially to those he only has business with.

ayato is surprisingly different to what you originally thought. he would try to match your humor, often speaking informally like the way you would around your closest friends just to match with you. lately he's been spending his free time with you too. he noticed you liked tea a lot, much like him. so both of you had made it a habit to have tea at the estate's balcony while the sun is going down. watching the sunset together. it felt really romantic for you- but you quickly shook your head and remembered that to him- you're just his work partner. but is that really the case for him? because he was much more observant than you thought. especially about you. he notices any slight change in the mood with you. so there was a particular day when you were gloomy because of being so tired. but he noticed this immediately.

"Shall we take a break?"

-- and you don't know why but your heart skipped a beat when he said that. you thought it was funny-- how he would do all of this for you. and at times like these, you start to feel like a special person to him. just because he always relies on you compared to others. you thought you were special to him. until she came.

who is she? she looks so... bold and pretty. just one look at her and you can already tell she has a strong personality but has a gentle aura. her blonde hair swaying so glamorously in the wind. her otherworldly clothes making her stand out among people. the way she moves makes it embarrassing to stand beside her. she seems so... perfect in everyone's eyes. unfortunately, that includes ayato's. you don't remember having a guest in ayato's schedule when you were fixing it, so why's she here?

you found out the answer really quickly. everyone at the estate has been talking about her and... ayato lately. you don't know why though, which is weird- because as his assistant you should be the first to know about things regarding him. it's even weirder that ayato had not summoned you after work has ended. 'is this where our afternoon tea sessions end?' you thought to yourself. so you found it upon yourself to just be straightforward and ask others what's the gossip all about. luckily, there was another servant nearby. she quickly leaned closer to you and whispered.

"h-haven't you heard?... it seems that lord ayato had taken a liking to lady ayaka's guest."

you were surprised. really. it wasn't even his guest yet he bothered to entertain her. just who is she?

"who-... who is her lady's guest?" you nervously questioned.

"I heard it was... the traveler? was it? lord ayato visited her personally! they're just so perfect with eachother!- i can't help it." the servant squeals in excitement, contrary to your look in horror. you try not to make it obvious though. but you shouldn't even be feeling this way. why does it hurt? there's a sharp feeling on your chest that you just can't get out of. it just hurts to know the reason why he stopped your afternoon tea sessions, dinner hangouts, or just even talking with eachother is because of another girl! you were in no place to get frustrated since you were just a servant. nothing more, nothing less. to him.

you only see him through work now. the urge to invite him to a tea break and have a conversation with him while watching the sunset is getting stronger everyday. and who are you to resist?

"lord ayato... wou-" before you could even finish your sentence, he stopped you. your heart was beating so fast. 'oh no. did I do something wrong?' thoughts like these were circling through your mind.

"i told you to just call me 'ayato' y/n"

--and he chuckles a bit at the end. and so do you. you felt so... relieved. your worries instantly washed away. you felt at ease knowing that you are special to him. i mean- he doesn't do this with others does he?

"ah- my bad... but as I was saying, would you like to have some afternoon tea break with me? I mean, we used to do that everyday but it has been a while since we last did soo..."

and at this point you were so sure he wouldn't decline. he's been less busy this week, what could he possibly do that's far too important to even refu-

"my apologies, y/n. i've already scheduled a tea break with someone else this afternoon. maybe next time if i have the time. i promise i'll make it up to you. however, you could accompany us if you would like." and your mind. empty. the world seems like it stopped for you. not only was your only time to hang out with him gone but you were also replaced. all this time... he was with someone else. you had a gut feeling of who that someone else might be. but you couldn't hold a grudge, you have no right to.

"i-... i look forward to it." nope. you absolutely don't, look forward to it. that day will eventually come though. you just didn't expect it to come, three days later. how quick. you were filled with mixed of different emotions. you hate to admit it- but... you are jealous of who this person might be. but at the same time you're glad to just see ayato again! sadly, for work. when he summoned you, you thought-- 'oh is this finally it? will we finally hang out together again?' until you realize it's just that you will just accompany him to go to a somewhat date with someone else. compared to you and ayato just drinking tea at the estate's balcony, he had prepared so much as to have tea and snacks at the shore. alas, you could finally meet this person. once again. as you realize it was her. the traveler.

"traveler, did you wait long? i'm sorry, you could've ju..."

and their conversation went deaf on your ears. the ayato kamisato. speaking informally, and giving out tea invitations to the traveler. when it used to be you... why are you feeling like this? isn't it obvious. the traveler is way prettier, stronger and better than you. comparing yourself to the traveler is already such an embarrassing thing to do. no one could compare to her. she's out there defeating monsters and fighting archons. while you're here holding a grudge on a person who doesn't even know you just because you're jealous you were easily replaced. but who were you to be replaced when you weren't even his to begin with. this is why you feel guilty. because you think that you have no right to feel this way. it's just now that you realize how much of an overthinker you are. however your thoughts were cut short when you hear ayato calling out your name.

"y/n, i'll go to to the comfort room for a bit. please entertain the traveler while i'm away."

he says.

"understood." and so you take a seat at ayato's chair before. and despite not wanting to have a talk with the traveler, it is still your duty and you would not abandon it for just some mere feelings.

"greetings, i'm y/n. it's a pleasure to meet you traveler." you bow slightly and give the smile you usually show to guests. a smile you practiced countless of times infront of a mirror. "you might have not heard about me though. so allow me t-"

"oh i know. you're ayato's personal assistant. he mentioned it to me before." the traveler states. and you were genuinely shocked but also... curious.

"is that so?... then, has he said any other things about me before?" you nervously asked. though the nervously part may not be obvious to others. the traveler sees right through this. and she giggles. but nods. "would you mind serving me some tea? the tea ayato has been serving me is delicious however i've tasted it countless of times from our past tea parties. so I would like to have a different flavor this time."

the word 'countless' implies that they have been doing this for a while now and you already know that. but it still stirs a feeling of jealousy inside you.

"of course. luckily i brought a different tea flavor for myself as well. let me go get the ingredients from my bag." you return after brewing the tea and pouring it into the cups. how thoughtful that the traveler had already prepared the cups for you.

"this tastes a lot like lavender... melon." the traveler says.

"hm. because it is. you have a great sense of taste." you reply. from this point and so on, you don't really know what to talk about. the atmosphere is really awkward. but you still try to strike up a conversation because she is a guest.

"s-so... what brings you here to the kamisato estate?" you ask. in which the traveler replied with "originally, ayaka invited me. and ayato next." you don't know if it's just your eyes playing tricks on you or did the corner of her mouth raise upwards for a bit. you brush it off. maybe the grudge you have on her is going too far. i mean, it's not like you hate her though. but it's also not like you like her.

by now you've almost finished your tea. same goes for the traveler. you only had to endure a little bit more of this atmosphere and her because ayato should be back soon. so you lowered your guard and relaxed a bit. this whole time you only stared at your teacup, but it wouldn't hurt to take a glimpse at the traveler right? so slowly but hesitantly, you lift your eyes up to see her. already staring at you. but you couldn't break away from the eye contact. especially because she just asked you something you're also asking yourself.

"y/n. tell me. do you like ayato?"

despite having a smile on her face as she asked this, her tone was rather cold. it sent shivers down your spine. you don't know why she's asking this. but you also don't know the answer to that question.

...do you like ayato?

"I'm..."

that was the last thing you said before you went unconscious. before that, your vision went blurry and your head was getting dizzy. how could this be? all the years you've spent serving the kamisato clan, this has never happened.

a loud ringing on your ears forced you to wake up, you could hear numerous voices as you slowly opened your eyes. your vision was still blurry but you could figure out that someone was huge was standing before you.

"it's awake."

'it's? what do these people take me for'. --is what you would have thought when you realized you've been kidnapped and the kidnappers are a group of nobushis. you look at your surroundings, counting just how many they are until you finally notice someone beside you. the traveler. she's still unconscious. looking at her made you realize that you're also tied up and is unable to speak. screaming is no use. you seem to be in a... cave? you're not so sure because you don't remember a cave this huge at inazuma. you try to recall what happened and why you ended up here until you heard something a nobushi said.

"ya think he's coming here?"

"i heard he fancies these two. of course he will."

he? who's he? considering they kidnapped you and the traveler, don't tell me they're talking about him. not lord aya--

"oh well look who's here."

your eyes widen in shock when you turn to the direction they're facing. he's standing right there. ayato kamisato has come to save you. ...and the traveler. something moves beside you and you see the traveler, already awake, with tears in her eyes. isn't the traveler supposed to be strong and mighty? you don't understand, how were they able to kidnap her. in what situation was she in for her to become so vulnerable and be captured? i mean before all of this she was only with you-- !! your eyes widen. you saw ayato, ...glaring at you.

why was he glaring? you were in a pitiful situation right now, yet he glares at you as if you commited a crime. you can't believe it but... 'don't tell me thinks... i poisoned the traveler.' archons. he definitely thinks just that. the way his eyes softens as he looks to the girl beside you confirms so.

"give us the document. maybe we'll let both of them go." one of the nobushis spoke up. documents? what documents are they talking about? you handle all the documents for ayato, could it be he's been keeping something from you? are they comparing lives to a piece of document? surely ayato would-

"no. ...who sent you?" his voice cold as ice. the world has been surprising you a lot today. how important could that document be for it to be able to compare to a person's life. "straightforward i see... too bad, if you don't give us the documents any time we'll kill both of your precious little friends and this place will blow up soon." one of the nobushis spoke up again, it was the same guy as earlier. normally, ayato would be able to beat a few nobushis on his own. but he's way outnumbered right now. for some reason he knows that you and the traveler was taken here, yet he still came alone. you look beside you and see that the traveler is now crying. compared to the mighty traveler you seem to be too calm. you shouldn't be, in a situation like this. is it because ayato is now here? although he probably hates your guts already. but you just trust him way too much.

"...not giving in eh? then let's see..."

the nobushi paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about another way to make ayato give in and for them to gain something out of him. the nobushi smirked.

"...if you give us some mora... we'll let ya choose one of them to go with. give us the documents, you all can go home safe and sound. give us none and... you'll die with them." and finally, you felt... fear. your heart was racing. you didn't know it was this bad. earlier you already knew that you're this close to death's door but you weren't panicking at all. you also don't mind dying if it was for ayato. from an early age you already knew that you had to serve and protect their clan no matter what-- even if you have to pay the price of your own life. so why panic now? is it because the nobushis are going to far with their negotiations? is it because you're knocking right at death's door? or maybe it's because you're afraid that ayato will abandon you. choosing someone else, right infront of you in a critical situation like this. but surely he wouldn't, right?

" ...traveler," he throws a pouch of mora to the ground towards the nobushis. you remember when you both were strolling around at inazuma city after dinner. when he mentions that ever since he saw you looking through the stalls but not buying anything, he figured he'd buy them for you. so he always carried a pouch of mora. for you... and not for anyone el-

".. let's go." what? are you hearing things right? but judging by the way they pull the traveler and untie her, it seems that you are. but you wish you weren't. it turns out he really would choose someone else. the traveler lunges to embrace ayato. seeing ayato slowly hug her back, patting her back to calm down her tears and letting her cry on his shoulder just made your broken heart break even further. you get it. with the traveler's back facing you as they embrace, you take a glimpse of ayato until his gaze lands on you.

" ...y/n..."

his tone was somewhat... soft. you assume on a lot of things and right now you don't wanna expect but, you are. is this his last words to me? is he telling me he's sorry? is he gonna tell me how he regrets doing this? and that he never really wanted this to happen? and that i'm someone special to him, viewing me more than just a serv-

" --how dare you."

...and his gaze turns dark. what for? you didn't even do anything. his eyes glares at you as if you both were never friends. or maybe you were never really a friend to him. and he always thought of you as a mere servant. just like the rest. you were just- too naive. so foolish. thinking you were special. special just because he went looking for you and bought medicine and special rare tea in a day when you were sick for work. special cause he always invited you for tea breaks, conversing with you and only you. special because he always relies on you, and you allowed yourself to be relied on, --when you had no one to rely on for yourself. was those years of being with him nothing for him? was it that worthless in his eyes? that you could just be replaced and abandoned any time? you thought you were someone special in his life when he treated you differently compared to others.

but what about the way you treat him?

you treat him as if you were nothing without him. because he was everything to you. you were only this happy with him. only him. if you think of the most memorable memory you've ever had, it would include him. the day you first met him, and today. the last day you're seeing ayato. you watch them slowly turn their heels to leave. and all of a sudden you spoke. you couldn't help it, you spoke without even thinking. and now you don't know what to say. or maybe-- you just don't want to say it.

"a-ayato..." 'did you ever think if me as more than a friend?'... heck- more than a worker even. you wanted to ask just that. but you wouldn't. cause you couldn't. "...thank you, but I did nothing wrong." you say as you smile. that was your final words before the traveler and ayato takes more steps towards another path, probably leading to the exit. you hesitantly and slowly lift your eyes up to take one. last. look to ayato and... the traveler. and last time your eyes were playing tricks on you, but now you realize it wasn't. cause she was smirking again. smirking at you. leaving you to death.

anger. shame. resentment.

fury rises inside of you. you were raised to be patient with others. it was your job. so you've never felt this way for someone before. you wanted to scream but you couldn't. all you could think about was the traveler.

...the traveler!! the traveler!! the traveler.

it was all because of her that you're in a state like this. ever since she came, things changed. she was the person ayato replaced you with. the person he chose to spend the rest of his life with. and the reason why he threw away all of his memories with you and treated you like nothing. he chose a girl he just met instead of a childhood friend companion who has done nothing but pledge loyalty to him. now that you think about it... for ayato you would risk your life for him, die for him even. but he wouldn't do that for you. he only showed up for the traveler when you thought he came to save you.

it felt like your world was crumbling right before your eyes, watching them walk away, leaving you to death. you could mean that literally since anytime now you might be reduced to nothing but also... ayato is your world. to you he is everything. growing up with him, growing with him. he really is that special to you.

too bad,

he doesn't even see you as anything more than a servant. to him you were, not. special. at. all.

their footsteps has slowly faded away. they left. they've left you. behind, to die. it seems... this is it. you hear the nobushis chuckling and talking amongst eachother,

"geez... what a show! anyway.., are the preparations complete?"

"really? then we could go!"

"where did she say we would meet her again?"

"that bitch... making us do all of this. if it weren't for the mora then I wouldn't have agreed."

her? who's her? who's she? these thoughts seem all too familiar, and once again, you got your answer quickly.

"oh the traveler asked us to meet her at jinren island." a nobushi replied. just when you thought your hatred for her couldn't get any worse. however your thoughts were completely cut off when the nobushis all started leaving you. not even batting a single eye. you remembered them mentioning something that would leave you to ashes here. what was it again? if you recall quickly it was probably a-- "a bomb," --a nobushi says to you. as if he could read your mind. "a few minutes from now, once we all leave, this place will get wrecked. including... you." the nobushi laughs. you have never been this lonely before. i mean, you always had ayato beside you. but now that he personally left you for someone else- who do you have now? you have no answer for that. or maybe it is the answer. nothing. no one is there to help you. your reason to live is gone. atleast, you served your life's purpose before you die. you were never really that close to others including your family because of ayato. so you have nothing to lose now. but... you wish you could atleast take revenge on the traveler... even though you hate that idea. revenge isn't something you would even consider but.. the traveler is a different case.

today has given you particularly a lot of last things. like your last thoughts just now. before feeling a strong burst of energy and the brightest light you've ever seen. and everything turns dark.

...your eyes are closed and you can't move your body. but you're hearing something... footsteps? oh, a voice.

" ...how pitiful,"

you fall into deep sleep once again after feeling such an electrifying strike on your back.

... just who was that?

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #genshin angst #rai! ✍️#genshin one shot #genshin oneshots

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acourtofmenandthirst · 7 months

Text

Love You In The Dark

Azriel x Reader, based on Love You In The Dark by Adele :/

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.4K

“Don’t look at me like that.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but he didn’t miss how your words came out trembling, or how your dry throat constricted as you spoke.

He shook his head. You had always known he was a male of few words but you didn’t know that he, in that moment, didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew his words would come out broken, shattered on a muffled scream. He had to blink away the tears just to watch you stuff clothes into your bag.

You were ashamed, truly, that it had come to this. That the only solution you could find was to pack your bag and go. No matter how many nights you lay awake, convincing yourself that you were the crazy one, making up stories and rumors, you’d come to the same conclusion.

Leave before he does.

But what you couldn’t do was go without a goodbye. You knew it would be easier to hastily grab your most valued items and disappear into the high mountains of the Night Court without any words exchanged between the two of you.

But you couldn’t.

And he couldn’t stop watching.

Azriel grabbed for you - he reached out those scarred hands, the ones you loved so much - encircled your wrists and tugged you closer to him. But you stood firm, squeezing your eyes shut and shook his hands off of you. And that hurt him, you knew it, shrinking away from his touch like it burned you. He knew the feeling all too well.

You didn’t mean to, after all. You were being cruel to be kind.

It was hard to navigate the small cottage that had become your shared home. His clothing had taken over your wardrobe - you’d fumbled through piles of neatly folded sweaters and shirts that had belonged to him, that smelled so strongly of night and rain, in search of your own items to stuff in your bag.

In the past few years you and Azriel had been dating, he’d moved into your little cottage. It turned into his reprieve, after spending most of his adult life moving around, he’d never had a place to call home. The winged male spent his time flitting between the House of Wind and the townhouse, the Riverside estate and the cold Illyrian war camps. Once he’d spent a few nights with you, it quickly turned into your shared home.

He still spent time away from you, when his High Lord had ordered him as chaperone for their brother and the moody Fae female, but those nights were some of the longest you’d felt. It was no longer just your bed, it was too roomy and far too cold without him. The kitchen no longer smelled of tea first thing in the morning, and everything felt too spacious when there wasn’t a pair of leathery wings taking up all the space.

The male trailed you everywhere you went. He followed you step-for-step as you turned all around the bedroom in search of your clothes, so often strewn about the tiny area; his broad shoulders filled the doorframe as you swiftly grabbed your soap and salves from the bathroom. You knew he could do more to stop you - he was so much stronger than this. He could grab you in those big arms, hold on to you and never let you go. He could cocoon you in those dark wings and wrap the both of you in warmth - safety - like he used to do in the beginning.

But he didn’t.

And that’s why you continued.

He still wouldn’t leave you alone after what you told him. Once you said you were leaving, he hadn’t left your side. He tried to talk you out of it, to promise things would change, that it would get better - he hadn’t known you’d been thinking about this for the past few months. How you were left with no other choice.

It would hurt the male now - the normally stoich, proud Illyrian whose poker face never faltered. You told him late at night, when you were hoping the darkness would conceal the way his lips parted in surprise, the way his brows furrowed in confusion. But those hazel eyes glinted in the moonlight, and you could have sworn you’d never seen them so shiny. You spent the next few seconds - that moved like centuries - convincing yourself that those weren’t tears brimming in his eyes. His arms moved to constrict around you, to reach for you in the bed that you felt go cold many moons ago. You were too quick, already reaching for your bag and shoveling things inside.

You’d bitten your tongue long enough about it, the two new females that had entered your boyfriend’s life. Not only his, of course, but his family’s - and everyone seemed dead set on playing matchmaker. Not in front of you, for that matter, but you heard them talk behind your back about how perfect these other females were for him.

Gwyn, an angel seemingly sent from the Mother above, who so often trained with him, would be the perfect match - body, mind, and soul.

There was an unspoken bond between them already, one that nobody else on the land was privy to knowing besides them. It was something forgotten long ago, but something you saw renewed in those golden blue eyes each time Gwyn looked at Azriel. She gazed at him with admiration, both his fighting style and his calming presence.

If they weren’t discussing training lessons for the day, it was the jokes poking fun at his brother - how he absolutely drooled watching anything Nesta did - or about the newest book she was reading. Azriel, who had seemingly read every book in existence, nodded along, even adding his own commentary on the novel.

He had built up quite the collection between the books he brought into your shared home, a mix between his old worn favorites and the stacks you had lining the walls and tables. But you soon noticed the fantasy and romance books he held on his lap before bed, the pages were worn and well loved, even the paper smelled different. What was sharing books between friends? There was nothing to it - but you couldn’t help but feel the tinge of jealousy turn your chest red.

Then there was Elain, the third Archeron sister, the perfect opposite to Azriel.

You often heard the High Lady whisper to her mate and newfound family: “Three brothers and three sisters - how perfect is that.” Something Azriel just shook his head about - but never outright refusing. You just listened quietly as if you’d never heard anything at all. You pretended not to see the way he gazed at her - the Seer - or the way his fingers brushed hers when she handed over a plate or pastry.

It was those fingers you knew he didn’t like people to see. The hands that you’d spent years trying to get him to touch you with, to not care what they looked like or how rough they felt. They grazed along her pale skin, so smooth and flawless, in the same soft manner he’d touch you - your thighs, your stomach. And as his eyes held her round ones, you wondered if he imagined the way her body felt, the supple curve of her breast or her straight spine. Azriel had an appreciation for the arts, why would he not be with the most beautiful of the sisters?

She always baked for him. She baked for everyone, really, but always insisted he - it was always him - try her treats. Azriel never complained when it came to food, but he never was one for gushing over how sweet the rolls were or how delicious the jam was. But her insistence with feeding him - such an intimate act in Pyrthian, to any Fae, really - didn’t sit right with you.

You hadn’t felt further from him. It seemed that everything was changing. You were, too. Even though you spent nearly every night together, you felt defeated, unable to compare to the new excitement he must have felt with these two females, both fawning over him. His family only encouraged it, too. Even when you spent those nights together, wrapped tightly in his arms, you felt the space between you grow.

Azriel had given you the world - you never thought that you’d have to spend another day of your life without him. But you couldn’t shake that feeling from you. The feeling that he thought about those other females, that he’d wonder what it would be like to be with them, to spend time with them. Those rare times when you’d join them for parties or intimate dinners, you saw their eyes linger on him, on you. And those hazel eyes next to you often fell to one of the two.

You’d never dared to ask him about them.

You knew leaving wasn’t fair. You didn’t bring any of it up until the day you decided to go. He’d only brushed it off, expressing that he wasn’t actually interested in either of them, but rather in the conversation. There were nights he’d stay late at the River House, where you knew all of them resided together as a family. They’d stay up late drinking and laughing, sharing intimate stories and overly friendly touches.

Once he returned home, he offered you a kiss and then crawled into bed next to you, not pulling you into him or laying half-sprawled over your chest like he normally would. You swore you smelled roses on him that night.

You knew he’d never touched either of them. He wouldn’t disgrace you like that. But his family so often brought it up. Possibly being mates with someone they already had known and loved - let it be the Archeron sister or the favored Valkyrie - they all had much more in common anyway, and it would be far preferable than him spending eternity with an outsider such as yourself.

But that wouldn’t stop him from wondering.

You couldn’t carry on like everything was fine.

So you packed your bags, offering Azriel his fair chance at finding who he might think is his mate. Either one of them would be lovely to him - you knew both the females would offer him the world on a silver platter.

The hardest part would be choosing which one.

“Please don’t go, (Y/N),” he whispered, tilting his head down closer to you. He’d followed you from the bathing room back to your bed, and one of his hands fell to your hip.

“Stop asking me to stay,” you replied, ignoring his touch and continuing with your packing - you were almost done.

He swallowed the lump in his throat - you saw it. His eyes flitted between the two of yours, dragging down to your lips. “And stop looking at me like that,” you added, breathlessly. So you had to break the trance, blinking away any tears that threatened to pool in your eyes.

Azriel almost laughed. The breath came out jagged, loose from his lips, but he could barely stifle the exasperation. “There will never be a day when I don’t look at you like this, (Y/N).” His voice was low but unwavering.

“It’s not you, Azriel,” you huff, resisting the urge to throw everything in your arms to the ground. “It’s not the way you look at me or how you don’t - it’s how you look at them.” His brows knitted in confusion. “The way you treat them is the same way you treat me and - ” you huffed a sigh. “I can’t do it anymore.”

He did lose it - he grabbed your arms - palms hot, burning with emotion. “They aren’t you, (Y/N).”

You stared up at him, anger washing over your sadness. “But you treat them like they are!” Everything fell from your hands as you shook out of his grasp. Taken aback, Azriel straightened and watched you closely. “Do you know how long it took for us to get here? For you to even talk to me? Touch me?” You stifled the urge to pull at your hair. “I feel so defeated - watching you joke and laugh with them. You and I are so far apart now - you’re a whole new person!”

He shook his head, black hair shifting slightly with the motion. “I’m not - we should talk about this. You can’t bottle everything up and then just leave.”

“I’m not just leaving, though, Azriel.” His heart thudded at how you said his name - how you spat it like it burned our tongue. “I’ve been in the dark for so long - you never bring me around your family - because you know they don’t like me.” You cut him off before he could interject. “They keep trying to set you up with Elain or Gwyn! I know what they say behind my back, Azriel, you aren’t the only one who knows the secrets of that River House.”

Azriel’s chest heaved with each stabbing breath he forced into his lungs. His hands flexed at his sides as he held himself back - he wanted to grab you, throw you onto the bed, cage you under his body so you had no choice but to hear him out. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you that you were so fucking wrong and he would always choose you over them - over his family.

But he couldn’t.

And he didn’t.

So you took a step back and grabbed the leather bag from the bed. Whatever you already had was good enough - you could rebuy whatever else you needed. Besides, it would probably be better to leave anything that would remind you of the male you were leaving behind. Mother above - if that were the case, you’d truly be leaving with nothing at all.

“I meant what I said, Azriel, every word.” He was surprised at your sudden shift in tone, as your voice fell to a whisper. His shadows hissed in his ears, expecting more yelling - hell they were about to start screaming at him, too. “I love you - I don’t regret a gods damned thing.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” his voice cracked. Those hazel eyes were glazed over with silver, finally realizing you’d had this prepared. It was premeditated, you’d fallen out of love with him long ago.

“But I want to live, Azriel. Not in anyone’s shadow, and not while every one of your family members tries to arrange marriage for you.”

Azriel had never lied to you. He wouldn’t start now. There was nothing he could do to stop their silly gossip, to stop wishing for their friends to flirt with him - not without breaking the family he’d worked so hard to build. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

“You’ll survive.”

#azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader

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milkpup · 5 months

Text

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on.

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt. “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room. He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You’re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

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everparanoid · 6 months

Text

Comforting you after a nightmare w/ Genshin men

various genshin men x gn! reader

cw: fluff, slight angst if you squint--like really squint.

Characters: Wriothesley, Ayato, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Diluc, Itto

Wriothesley

Wriothesley often finds himself retiring to bed quite late, though not as frequently as one might assume. After a long night immersed in Meropide’s paperwork, he falls asleep almost instantly, maintaining a slight distance so as not to disturb your slumber this late into the night. When a nightmare stirs you awake, leaving you sitting up and staring into the darkness, unable to return to sleep, Wriothesley, who is no stranger to the torment of nightmares, opens his eyes and assures you that everything is okay. Without needing any explanation, he sits up, ready to keep you company, so you’re not left alone with your racing thoughts and the enveloping darkness. He understands the loneliness that comes with being alone with your thoughts in the dark, and he doesn’t wish that for you. If you feel the need to talk about it, Wriothesley is all ears. A good listener, he won’t pressure you into saying anything, but if you wish to share, he’s there to listen. He won’t attempt to interpret your nightmare or dismiss your feelings as irrational, he’ll simply listen. If you seek comfort, he’ll hold you in his arms until your breathing steadies and you drift back into a peaceful sleep. Don’t worry he’ll join you soon after.

“Huh? Oh, so you had a bad dream? It’s okay. I’ve got you. Do you want to talk about it?… No? That’s fine. We can just stay here till it goes away.”

Ayato

Ayato, much like Wriothesley, often arrives late to bed. However, when a nightmare stirs you awake, he springs into action, ready to shield you from any physical threat that might have breached the estate’s defenses. Ayato is a light sleeper, a habit formed after numerous assassination attempts following his parents’ demise. The rare instances of peaceful sleep he can recall are all linked to the times you shared his bed. Once he has ensured the room is safe and there are no threats, he sheathes his blade and returns to bed, seeking to understand your distress. Unlike Wriothesley, Ayato attempts to rationalize your nightmare, aiming to soothe your rapid breathing and fearful gaze. If you seek comfort, he will draw you into his embrace, sharing tales of his suspicious meals and the interesting dishes he has persuaded Thoma to consume, until your nightmare recedes and your smile, the one he cherishes, returns.

A sudden voice outside the door might startle you, but Ayato will reassure you, explaining it’s merely Thoma with tea. Having heard the commotion, Thoma decided to bring tea to calm your nerves, a practice he often employs for the Kamisato siblings when nightmares disrupt their sleep. The warmth of the tea in your belly, coupled with Ayato’s soothing whispers and gentle laughter, lulls you back to sleep in his arms. Although sleep may elude him, seeing you at peace is all that truly matters to him.

“It was just a nightmare. It can’t hurt you, not when I’m around.”

Neuvillette

Neuvillette is likely to be burdened with other people’s haunting memories, a consequence of his bond with the element of water as the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. This means that when nightmares stir you to tears and if the water graces his skin, he too experiences your nightmare. Without opening his eyes, he draws you closer, gently wiping away your tears. To him, emotions experienced in nightmares are as real and valid as those felt in waking life. His proximity to you softens the harsh edges of your dreams, unknowingly easing you into a more peaceful state. Gradually, you find calm and drift back into sleep, your dreams now filled with tranquil waters.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham, much like Ayato, will seek to make sense of your nightmare upon your awakening. Your sudden movement disrupts his slumber, initially causing a flicker of annoyance. However, recognizing it’s you, he endeavours to comfort you in the only way he knows - through reason. With his eyes still firmly shut, clinging to the fading warmth of sleep, he begins to whisper words of reassurance. Over time, he learns that tender words have a greater soothing effect than cold, hard logic. Once the sound of your rapid breathing subsides, and if you express the desire, he casually lifts an arm, inviting you to snuggle into him until sleep claims you both once more. Though he may appear to drift off before you, his steady breathing and closed eyes are a facade. In reality, he remains in a state of semi-consciousness, patiently waiting for you to succumb to sleep before he allows himself to return to the realm of dreams.

“Calm down. What you are experiencing, though it may feel real, is not. You are fine.”

Diluc

Diluc too is haunted by nightmares. His dreams, much like Wriothesley’s, are vivid and painfully real, replaying the chapters of his past he yearns to forget, yet is bound by their torment. This is why sleep eludes him. As dusk falls, he embraces his role as Mondstadt’s protector, a duty that provides a refuge from the inevitable torment that sleep brings. When he met you, the intensity of these nightmares ebbed slightly. Although sleep remains a distant acquaintance, he finds solace in returning to the Dawn Winery just before dawn. There, he lays beside you, silently observing as the night bids farewell to the day. Should a nightmare disturb your peace, he is already awake, prepared to offer comfort. He understands all too well the pain of reliving time-warped memories. Regardless of your preference for physical contact, Diluc remains by your side, a steadfast presence as you both welcome the sunrise, allowing the dawn’s gentle light to cleanse away the night’s demons.

“Don’t worry, it’s dawn,”

Itto

Itto, even with his jovial nature, is no stranger to the occasional nightmare. Though his tend to revolve more around beans than most. When a nightmare jolts you awake, Itto doesn’t stir until he hears you call his name. He opens his eyes, still heavy with sleep, and upon seeing the distress in your eyes, moves to comfort you. His voice is softer and more gruff than its usual boisterous tone. He beckons you closer, and once you’re nestled in his arms—your limbs entangled with his like a weighted blanket smothering your senses— he begins to trace small circles on your back. If words of comfort fail to soothe you, he’ll sing a little impromptu song about him, your oni, scaring away the nightmares. It is a tune that brings a smile to your face. You may not find sleep again, even after Itto drifts off mid-song; but knowing he’s there beside you, offering his unwavering support, is all that truly matters.

“Hey hey hey, shush, calm down. It’s alright, no nightmare can get you when the Arataki Itto, the one and oni, has got you. What? Don’t think you can sleep again? That’s alright. Hey, how about I sing a little song I made up just now for you? That will surely get rid of all those pesky nightmares.”

masterlist

I hope you all sleep better than me.

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bunny584 · 1 month

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For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter II

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Songs of Solomon 8:6-7.

As newly appointed Duchess-To-Be, you have much to learn. Etiquette, conduct and eventual motherhood are the pillars you are expected to live by. Because who cares about your choosing?

The Chapel, tended to by a mercurial Priest, is the perfect refuge.

…right?

Pairing: Geto x female reader

A/N: The is dedicated to the artist ( @captainsalsaa ) I mean look at our fallen Angel. His tears. His frustration. Dear GOD.

To the artist: I stared at your piece, then heard a specific song on my writing playlist then wrote the entire last scene in one sitting. To date, it’s my favorite scene in my author’s portfolio. I hope I did our fallen Angel justice. Thank you for creating this 🤍

Previous | Next

CHAPTER II: Hello, Father.

“Awake early, little dove.”

Warm hands caress your shoulders. A welcome contrast to the chilly nautical dawn. The sun still has a ways to go, but songbirds have begun their wake up call.

“As are you, Arella.”

Your eyes float to your favorite maiden standing above you. No more than a handful of years older, but with a heart for you as if she raised you from birth.

“It’s my duty to tend to you, is it not?”

Soft laughter harmonizes with the nightingales. A quick kiss on your forehead before her warmth disappears off the balcony — undoubtedly to go retrieve a treat of some kind.

She’s not wrong.

Technically it is her duty.

But Arella is your blessing.

Matting and kneading your surroundings to fit your needs. Eager to dampen the growing pains of settling in a new home.

Constant hellos.

Permanent smiles.

Not too wide, like a promiscuous woman. But not too tight, like a cold prude.

Rooms to tour. Hands to shake. Garments to pin and tie and lace around your lungs as if your God-given ribcage was a frivolous extra not needed for life. Not needed to breathe.

Breathe.

Your lids screw shut. Pulling in as much of the balmy, saltwater breeze gliding up the steep rock face along the overhang.

Much like he did.

The Chaplain.

His hair cascading down his back in the same way poets monologue when inspired. His eyes a mural of what the Gods paint when they want to show off.

The way earth acquiesces to his touch as if he is the Creator. The birds choose to perform for him every morning. And the ocean exists to bathe him.

You cannot decide if the sorbet sunsets are created by the Chaplain. Or if the Gods fight over who gets the honor of painting him a new one each evening.

“Sleep still escapes you, precious girl.”

It does, but not for the reason she thinks.

“You worry too much, Arella. I’ll adjust soon.” The tea she brought you is delicious.

The both of you cross back into your quarters. The stagnant, perfumed air suddenly suffocating.

“I would like to go to the chapel garden.”

A quiet declaration that stills your handmaiden in her tracks. Then a small grin blossoms on her beautiful face. Fussing with your bedding. Wiping away evidence of your sleepless night.

“For the flowers that bloom, little dove? Or for the God that tends to them?”

The blood in your veins runs subzero.

“Arella! I am engaged to be marri—“

“Of course you are. But eyesight isn’t a sin.”

Another moment of feigned irritation before you burst into a fit of childish giggles. The both of you no better than school girls, covering your mouths, stifling your laughter.

“I just wanted to see you smile.” Arella gestures to your extravagant dresser across the room.

“In the second drawer you can find a casual garment. Come back with at least one hour to prepare for Mass.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

A hummingbird chaperones your walk to the church estate. Dulcet hums drown out the rattling heartbeat between your ears.

This is harmless.

It is not a sin to take in Earth’s natural candy. To appreciate God’s gift to humanity.

In all of his majestic glory.

Your eyes dart around as if your thoughts are a tangible scroll. Written in ink for the world to see.

Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no one around.

Just you. Your fluttering companions (both heart and bird). The waking sun. God above and his plants swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. You’re safe in your mind.

Until he decimates all logical and reasonable train of thought, that is.

You should be angry. Infuriated. That no one adequately prepared you for seeing the demigod for the first time. Even now, you question whether he’s flesh and blood.

Maybe an illusion?

The Lord playing tricks from his throne?

The mirage before you halts your paces. You can’t help but question your level consciousness.

Because this must be a dream.

“Oh, don’t be cruel.”

Words slip out of your mouth, currently ajar. It’s not your place to chastise the One above, but come on.

Your eyes taste the Chaplain for a second time and this course is even more decadent than the first.

There he stands.

A raven waterfall down his broad, muscular back. Half of it tied away from his face. Olive skin so rich the surrounding plants pale in comparison. Russet brown working pants hang loose around his tapered waist, but snug around his thighs. Various tools hooked in the belt loops. Heavy mahogany work boots match the worn leather gardening gloves fitted to his hands.

His hands.

Reaching for thorny vines plaguing his hydrangeas. Even at your distance you could detail each muscle fiber in his arm tense and release with every pull and toss.

Pull and toss.

You would have gotten lost in his rhythmic trance, if it weren’t for the symbol branded in charcoal sprawling his back. The emblem peeks through his thick hair, every now and again.

A spear?

No.

A trident. With waves snaking up its stalk along his spine.

His gravitational pull is overwhelming. Your feet move with more stealth than the King’s Guard.

“Working on the Day of Rest, Father?” Casual, measured.

“Duchess,” Saliva pools in your mouth. His smile teases your ears before he graces you with it.

“I have to start being more careful about my clothing.” A playful glint in his eyes.

“Especially now that I’ve been blessed with a fellow greenskeeper.”

He is a man of God.

And would never insinuate anything impure.

But that doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around his words steeped in a baritone potent enough to rumble the ground beneath you.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word that I was coming.”

“This palace belongs to you, Duchess. You are welcome here at any hour.” His hand captures a vine and tosses it into the pile without his eyes ever leaving yours.

You are weak.

And greedy.

The way your gaze drops to his arm. Desperately etching its contours into memory. Seconds, maybe minutes pass before you realize you were gawking. And the Chaplain just let you.

Head cocked to the side. Soft smile ghosting his full lips.

“Would you like to finish the tour of your new playground?”

“Y-yes. Of course, please.” Stumbling over the uneven cobblestone in your voice, you turn away to begin the coordinated stroll. The Priest slides his arms into a linen button up. Lazily fastening two center buttons only.

He informs you of the work that has already been done, what’s left. Where the soil is richest, where it is the most acidic. How the sun hits certain flowers at each hour of the day.

Brilliant.

With complete command over God’s bouquet. The sun following him wherever he steps.

“Did you enjoy your swim today, Father?” Both you and the Priest come to a slow stop. One of his angular eyebrows raised.

“I’m dry, Duchess.” He responds with a low, hypnotic chuckle.

Heat floods your cheeks. How could you be so presumptuous?

“What gave me away?”

Your knees nearly betray you. The razor sharp grin on his face could cut glass.

“You were born for the ocean. Or rather, the ocean was born for you.”

Your statement is greeted with blaring silence.

Lava in his gaze. Singeing every part of your face it touches. His expression is like a foreign language.

“I—I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Clearly I have much to learn about social graces.” A meek apology bubbles out of your lips. Desperate to fill the space between your bodies.

The mercurial man shakes his head slightly. Thawed out from your statement, he reaches over and plucks a stray lilac petal resting on your crown.

“My father used to say the same.” He muses, looking away for the first time.

“Your father! Is he—“

“He was called home some time ago.” This smile is soft. Reminiscent. Polite, but his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Oh Father Geto, I’m so sorry.”

A foot in your mouth is not enough punishment for your indecency. Why would you go prodding like this?

“Don’t be, I’ll see him again. Soon enough.”

“Not too soon, I hope.” The statement draws a stunned gaze from the Chaplain. Eyes dancing between yours.

“Time to prepare for mass, little dove!” Arella’s melodic call tethers you back down from outer space.

You flicker over to her with a ruby dusting over your nose and cheeks. Like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar before supper.

“Happy Sunday, Father!” Arella calls out, cheshire grin on her face deepening your crude blush.

“Indeed, Arella.” He returns the greeting while keeping his eyes on you.

“Send my regards to the Duke.” His voice lowers, for your ears only. With a nearly imperceptible edge to his tone.

“Happy Sunday, Duchess. We have a counseling session scheduled late afternoon, yes?”

A statement of pure black and white fact. And yet it travels down your spine and settles between your legs. Wet heat dampening your thin negligee.

“Yes, Father. Happy Sunday.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Mass was miserable.

Your corset laced tight enough to meld your two lungs and beating heart into one entity. To say the neckline strangled you is putting it mildly. Cold, uninviting pews dug into your skin at every turn.

Wretched.

But the worst of it wasn’t the thin, oxygen-deficient air. Or the shards of glass that slid down your throat with every swallow. Even the jaw pain from tensing your lips in a well-mannered smile for two hours straight was tolerable.

The worst part of it was him.

The Priest mesmerized an entire congregation to an ear-splitting hush.

His first Sunday mass since appointment and nearly everyone in the country and every surrounding province stuffed into the chapel.

So desperate for blessings from Father Geto.

Could you blame them?

His voice danced in and out of the pews listlessly.

Soothing fussy children. Adolescent girls and their mother’s alike — utterly smitten. Adolescent boys experienced their first “I want to be like him” with their fathers sitting right next to them. Husbands glanced feverishly at the women in their lives.

He had to have noticed it. And yet, he floated above it all the entire service.

Above you.

Refusing to gift you those eyes that put Vincent Van Gogh to shame. No matter how much you shifted in your seat and straightened your spine.

The Priest spoke to everyone in the room but you.

Did you read him wrong?

Did you misinterpret your budding friendship?

Does it…should it even matter?

Your irritation is palpable. Innocent bystanders are caught in your friendly fire. Including Arella, who changed you out of that horrid costume. And sweet Noel, who ushered you into the seating area — just outside of the good Father’s office.

You make a mental note to send treats to the tender-hearted alter boy. And to apologize profusely to your handmaiden.

“You are a million miles away, darling.” The sound of your betrothed tows you out of the storm clouds.

You flicker over to the Duke. Emerald green eyes, high cheek bones — handsome in a way that is characteristic of everyone native to your new home.

“I’m right here, Ezra.”

“Are you, sweetheart?” The back of his hand caresses your cheek.

“Mmhm.” You offer your future husband a weak smile and kiss on his cheek. His eyes faltering slightly, undoubtedly hopeful for lips instead.

“Good afternoon, Duke and Duchess Ahriman.”

Father Geto’s velvet greeting encases you both. If Ezra’s arm didn’t guide you to stand you would have been paralyzed in your seat.

“Father Geto, a pleasure. Thank you for seeing us.” Ezra offers a genuine smile and handshake. Buying you a few extra seconds in your mind’s safe haven.

The Chaplain is tight lipped. Professional. He returns the handshake firmly.

“Pleasure is mine.”

Ezra shifts slightly on his feet. Straightening his spine and dropping his shoulders. Your eyes bounce between the Chaplain and your fiancé.

“I must say, Father. You are even more handsome up close. I speak for the men in this country, thank you for taking the vow of celibacy!” The words spill out of the Duke. Unknowingly thinning the air.

The Priest chuckles quietly, dropping his eyes briefly before landing them on you. And it feels like you could double over. Your core temperature skyrockets under his smoldering gaze.

He, the archer. You, the bullseye.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

Ezra laces his fingers in yours, taking the two seats directly in front of the oak desk. A leather bound notebook and pheasant feather pen are neatly arranged — with your names on the first page.

Blue flame rises from your toes to hairline. You might as well have been sitting naked. With how exposed, how vulnerable you feel already.

“What will we be covering first, Father? Something about how wives should obey their husbands, right?” Ezra is light-hearted. Meant to be said in jest.

But he finds himself being the only party in the room laughing.

The Priest rolls the ink pen between his fingers. Allowing a deafening silence to coat the walls. His expression is neutral, but eyes ablaze.

“If the man in question is worthy of submission.” He starts. A low, ominous rumble.

“Uh, yes. Of course.” Ezra responds, shifting in his seat.

But the Chaplain does not stop. Intent on making a point, he leans in. Pen whirling lightning fast between his long, deft fingers. Enough tailwind to launch across the room, if he desired.

“If the man in question would give his life for his wife.” Volcanic eyes linger on you, then back to your fiancé. Ezra’s palm finds your thigh. You gnaw on your inner cheek to avoid flinching away.

“If he would love her like Christ loves all of his creations unconditionally. Unselfishly. Irrationally.”

“Yes, Father. I understand.”

“Only then, should she submit.” His serrated tone could split chromium with ease.

“Of course, of course.” Ezra wisely accepts defeat.

He presses a short kiss on your cheek as an apology that you didn’t ask for, nor do you want.

“Mmm.” A forced acknowledgment of the Duke’s affection through your pinched lips. Barely able to move under the Father’s microscopic gaze.

“Now then,” Father Geto clears the boulders in his throat.

“Tell me about your love.”

The question stuns both you and the Duke. Looking to each other sheepishly because neither of you chose this.

War is young men dying and old men talking. And your life path is no different. Dictated by conversations between the powers that be.

“We’ve only met a week ago, Father.” Your honesty drives both of his eyebrows upward.

“A week ago?”

“But we are hoping you can teach us.” The Duke, overeager and excitable.

“Teach you…?” Father Geto muses. You can’t quite interpret his tone, or minimal response. But your heart flutters all the same.

He is thinking something. And what you would give to get a glance. To be let in.

“Perhaps guide us?” Ezra gives an unintentionally painful squeeze on your thigh. You fail to muffle the tiny whimper.

The Priest’s eyes laser down to where your fiancé’s hand lays. Chest rising and falling dangerously slow.

“Right.”

Your eyes trail upwards as he stands. Closer to God than to you from this point of view.

“Duke, Duchess. You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies.”

His fingers dip the unused pen back into the ink cup. The edges of his leather bound notebook coming together. Seemingly without any notes, but an entire script from this session swirling in his mind.

“My schedule is incorrect. I have another commitment. We will reschedule, yes?” Said with a finality that sends chills crawling down your spine.

The two of you stand. Another handshake between the men. A restrained nod for you.

Just as quickly as you were let in, Father Geto shuts you out of his office and his mind.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Suguru presses his forehead against the shower tile. Warm water raining down his loose mane. Soothing his sore, overworked limbs.

Today was maddening.

He nearly destroyed his vestment the minute that God-forsaken counseling session ended. Seeking refuge, he took to the coast.

And the sea provided anything but peace.

She was angry with him, tonight.

Curt. With unpredictable currents. Rip tides at nearly every turn. She tested his adaptation without mercy.

Just like that night.

“I’m going to stay on board, brother!”

Suguru flickered over to the silver-haired deckhand. An unfamiliar reservation opacifying his nearly translucent, iridescent eyes.

Brother in name, technically.

Their bloodlines were oil and water. He was a high born. Suguru was born unworthy of a beggar’s pity.

But, bloodlines were inconsequential when their souls were instep as one. Both handed to humanity on the same night. During a thunderstorm already inscribed in history books.

‘The Tide of Eternal Requiem.’

It brought complete devastation. Crops destroyed. Families torn apart by tragic accidents inland and at sea.

Then fate struck.

Within the same hour, a voltaic boy, with a halo that put the clouds to shame and diamond eyes that could draw truth from murderers was born into the loving embrace of his parents.

And Suguru was born with a crown so dark that the raging midnight appeared bright.

With eyes as ominous as the sky above.

Gunmetal grey, accented by an eerie violet swarm. Dormant volcanoes, threatening eruption. His birth mother abandoned him in an alley. Driven by fear that he was a bad omen from the Gods.

“Ahhh, Satoru come on. Since when do you shy away from a few waves?”

Suguru teased. Already well into the process of shedding his work gear.

“Zeus is the one rumored to be my father.” His counterpart flashed a knowing smile.

“Poseidon doesn’t watch over me like he does you, Suguru.”

A tsunami couldn’t keep Suguru from his home. Much less a little rain.

They were 3 miles away from the shoreline. Using his God-given ability, Suguru regularly acted as their scout. Performing his own reconnaissance then alerting the incoming ship of safe or turbulent terrain.

“Almost ready to go, son?”

His chosen father came up behind him. Suguru knew there were tears lining his meek eyes before turning to face him.

“Dad.” Suguru sighed, fully disrobed now. Just his muscular frame and a compression suit.

He met his father’s concerned gaze. Always like this during sea storms. Quiet prayers written all over his gentle features.

Despite the worry, he never once attempted to convince his oceanic boy to stay on board. It would have been too cruel.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve traversed angrier swells.”

“Suguru, take care of yourself when I’m gone.”

Elder, worn hands landed on his shoulders. Nearly too high for his reach. Suguru cocked his head to the side.

This goodbye was different.

“Stay on this path. For me. Albeit straight and narrow, there is a wonderful view. This is all for you, son.”

Both men glanced to the Persian gulf. She thrashed against their vessel. Swaying their catch left and right with the intention of taking her creatures back.

“Where is this coming from?” A genuine question from his younger self. Unable to read between the lines.

“Can’t a man just speak from the heart?”

The melancholy smile didn’t meet the wrinkles of time decorating his eyes, but they shared a laugh anyway. Suguru turned away but was promptly drawn back.

“My beautiful boy.”

The fisherman cradled his son’s face. Swimming in the eyes that Suguru once hated. The eyes that convinced his birth mother to abandon him.

“Make it to shore, son.” Suguru rested his head against his father’s neck. Taking a slow, sweet drag of his scent.

Oak.

He always smelled like oak. It was one of Suguru’s favorite things about him.

“If Poseidon calls—“

“I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Mischievous grin plastered on Suguru’s face. His father planted a kiss on his cheek, pushing him towards the end of the boat. As he always did.

Then the Gulf wrapped him in her hostile embrace.

She was irate.

Vicious tidal waves. Rapidly shifting currents. Even her creatures knew to settle below their usual depth. Suguru cursed the fact that he was born with useless, human lungs. Unable to withstand the pressure of the Midnight Zone.

Within minutes his long, lean frame was riding her whims without a shred of control. Tossed around like a rag doll. At her complete mercy — or lack thereof.

This was the first time he struggled to tame his element. A muffled groan bubbled around him. Serrated edges of long coral stalks dug into his back. Stark white foam whirled around him.

Aerated waters.

Suguru could barely maneuver against the waves pummeling his core. Searing heat traveling up his spine. His lungs demanded oxygen.

The boat.

The boat would never make it to shore.

Desperate, furious strokes of his arms meant nothing against her unrelenting grasp. Effectively pinning Suguru to his underwater cross.

A piece of chewed plank wood whizzed by his face.

Followed by another.

Then another.

And Suguru watched his nightmare materialize before his eyes. Mustering his last oxygen reserve, he bellowed against his closed lips.

As if she hadn’t already ignored the cries of his fellow fisherman.

Even still, he screamed so loud his ribcage should have vaporized. But ushering him to a watery grave at that time would have been too merciful.

Suguru blinks out of the harrowing memory. The steeping tea takes at least two layers of epithelium off his esophagus.

Fucking, hell.

He can’t seem to escape pain today.

The swim was excruciating.

Mass was dreadful.

Watching that boy’s hand lay on your lap was grating.

Suguru’s mind drifts back to you. Your thought washes over him like baptizing waters purifying that which is impure.

The gleam in your eyes when you asked about his morning plunge. Barely a week and your pulse on him is already this precise.

Do not covet, Suguru.

He scoffs to himself. Shaking free of your tempting spiral.

This ‘straight and narrow’ path is proving to be more challenging than he let on.

“Would you be proud, Father?”

A whisper of accusation at the end of his inquiry. Suguru would give his arms, his eyes…his life to hear his father’s voice on the other end of his questions, once again.

“Did He tell you?”

Roaring silence. Of course. He knows that. He expects it.

But it angers him all the same.

“Did He come to you in a dream??” Suguru echos louder. More frantic. Punched out in a way he can barely recognize.

“Was the reaper at His left, my heart on the right?!” A weak sob slips through the crack in his baritone.

Yet another pain. But this one is tart and blurring his vision.

“Did you KNOW? D—did you know that day was your last?!” He hisses through a salty stream. Storming out to the garden to escape the walls collapsing in on him.

Suguru’s eyes laser to the remaining thorny vines along his bed of hydrangeas. Without a second thought he wraps them around his bare arms. Staining the plant and his freshly bathed skin with crystalline tears. Once its thorns sufficiently bury into his skin he rips it away from the soil with all his might.

“Bastard. I’m your SON.”

Warm metallic drips down the hills and ridges of his arms. Collecting in the flower bed.

Is he cursing his earthly father?

His Heavenly One?

Or the Deity that brought this grief on him in the first place?

It hurts.

An unforgiving pain.

Much like the thorns in those rapids. Much like the inconceivable burn from his lungs begging for expanse. The time limit, even for him, ran lethally low.

Well exceeding his father’s time limit.

Poseidon stole from him that day.

A callous trade for Suguru’s continued existence.

“Why didn’t you…I—I should’ve been there.”

Guilt eviscerates Suguru’s remaining resolve. Tilting his head up, he lets the salty crystals rain down his cheeks freely.

The full moon cradles his face with the same warmth, the same adoration his father’s hands used to.

Suguru accepts its celestial kisses for a moment before burying his face into his bloodied palms. His damp locks curtain his flushed face. Protecting the world from his unruly sobs.

“I’m here.” Barely audible words escape through desperate grabs for air.

“I made it to shore, Dad.”

E/N: Oh hello, don’t mind me just sobbing. Also, guest appearance by our glorious Blue Eyed Babygirl King™️ If you need me, I will be in witness protection before Gege finds this since it’s a crime to be a S*toru lover.

taglist: @blkkizzat @rotteneyess

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giuliettagaltieri · 5 months

Text

Honey, I'm Home

Pairing: Dad!Gojō x Mom!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru is home.

Warning: spoilers

Word Count: 889

9 of 9

The fall of the jujutsu society reminded Gojō Satoru of a lot of things.

As honored as he might be, throughout heaven and earth, he is as susceptible as any man. Maybe even more.

Gojō has too much to lose. The time when he was fighting for himself and for glory was long forgotten after his heart was held captive by you, and in return, you gave him a home, a family, a reason to win.

Gojō Satoru is a protector, a husband, and a father.

When he was being trapped inside that cube, he could not care for the discomfort of the place, the mortification of seeing his best friend’s body being used and tainted, or the humiliation of having been caught in the enemy’s clutches.

His head was only filled with a picture of you. How you will be worried sick as Gojō does not think that he will make it home that night. His son, who refuses to eat his puréed food unless it was his father feeding it to him.

And when he finally made it out. The first thing he wanted was to have you in his arms.

But that cannot be. Not yet, as Megumi, the boy he took in and thought of as his own, has his body overcome with Sukuna.

Gojō was careless in that fight.

Or he was just afraid.

He was afraid of hurting Megumi. Doing damage that cannot be undone.

No matter how old that boy got, he was still the same brat that asked for chicken nuggets takeout after school.

The price that Gojō paid for such sentiment was great.

Almost too great.

It cost him his life.

But Gojō was reminded that day that he was not alone. He no longer has to depend on himself alone. And for some reason, his soul refused to take that flight to heaven. His body was dead, but he was never gone.

The thought of you and Satoshi kept him clinging, refusing eternal farewell with every passing second until somebody healed his body enough to become a vessel for his soul once more.

A lot of Gojō’s questions for the metaphysical was answered that day. Perhaps there really is a greater being up there, looking out for him.

With efforts from hands that were not just Gojō’s, Sukuna was defeated.

But with the loss the jujutsu society suffered from, it was barely called a victory.

Overtime, the school was reestablished. Multiple young sorcerers in training arrived at the doorstep of the school. To learn. To be stronger. To not suffer from the same helplessness they felt.

But Gojō was done with teaching.

He figured it was time to focus on his clan. Not that he no longer responds to calls for help. But most of his days were spent inside his estate house. Sitting through meetings with the clan elders. Gojō wanted to smooth out every crease before he passed the title to his son.

Satoshi, his pride and joy, demanded to start his training the day after his sixth naming day.

Gojō oversees his training at times but it is difficult to do when you come waddling with your rounded belly to pinch at his ears for going too far with his strikes.

And there’s your toddler, her wails of wanting to join in on the training was always piercing Gojō’s ears, eventually relenting, he allowed her to join by sitting on his shoulders as she babbled away at her older brother. It always made her laugh when Satoshi sticks his tongue at her, the sun bouncing off her hair that she got from you as her tiny hands clap messily, her crystal blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

And just as frustration starts to get in the way of Satoshi’s performance, you come with a tray of tea and pastries, your kimono with embroidered blue roses dragging behind you, making you look regal and otherworldly.

This distraction is always welcomed. Both by father and son.

As Gojō picks up a taiyaki, he watches his son act out his fight, trying to impress you. Your daughter tries to steal your attention by feeding you with manju and you open your mouth to accept as your hand caresses your stomach. A smile makes its way to Gojō’s face, his eyes crinkling at the sight.

Had he told himself ten years ago that he would be living this life with you, he was certain that his younger self would believe that the six eyes had finally decayed his mind.

But this is what Gojō wanted him to see. His childhood home with happy and well-loved children running around, a wife that always had the most lovable of smiles, just sitting under the great oak of your garden to share sweets and stories.

He would love to have blue roses planted there someday too. And he would task his children to take care of them. And the children after them. To see to it that they prosper throughout the years. Perhaps the Gojō banners could use a bit of redesigning as well, roses would certainly add an appeal to it.

He wanted it known that even Gojō Satoru was only a man. A man capable of baring his soul to another. That he loved beyond comprehension and received her love in return.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojō satoru #jujutsu kaisen #arranged marriage #gojo fluff #dad gojo #where the blue roses grow

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ilongfor-the-arts · 7 months

Text

Tea and Music

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut!, language, mild begging, choking, unprotected sex, use of “good girl”

Summary: Part two of Poetry in Motion! These are the events that happen after Marquis meets our ballerina reader.

Word Count: 6.7k

Read Part one HERE!!!

Taglist: @jiawalker

The limo crushed the small stones under its tires as it drove along the white gravel path. The entire estate was completely covered in trees and green once we passed through the golden gates. I couldn't see the sides of the gate from the car, so I assumed his estate extended for miles.

Not a blade of grass was out of place.

I would have flirted with Vincent sooner if I had known he was concealing a mansion.

Our conversation two nights ago was extremely straightforward. He introduced himself, and I asked him one question before he insisted on speaking with me in person.

His address was on a street I'd never heard of before. I thought that perhaps it was in the Paris slums. His fancy suits and elegant demeanor were just a ruse to convince people he was wealthy.

But, alas, he lives in a mansion. Who would’ve guessed?

As the car approached the large front doors, I tried to hide my surprise. His house was something out of a movie. To take it all in, I had to turn my head completely left and right. It possessed at least three levels. It was made of lovely white vintage brick and black shingles. Two poles supported an enormous balcony on opposite sides of the large double front doors.There were dozens of tall arched windows. The architecture was inspired by the French countryside, but it was elevated to the highest level.

It appeared vintage and loved, but not worn.

“Alright madame, we are here.”

My trance was broken by the posh driver.

“Oh, yes.”

He opened the door for me, offering his hand to ensure that I would not be inconvenienced in the slightest.

I could grow accustomed to this type of treatment.

I hoisted myself up by grasping his smooth palm.

“Have a pleasant visit, madame.”

He spoke with a classy accent. His elegance, however, couldn't compete with Vincent's. The elderly driver jumped back into the driver's seat and began bustling away, rocks crunching beneath the tires.

I cocked my head upwards, hesitant. I could feel nerves brewing within my stomach. The butterflies were flying free. I took a deep breath, steadying my mind.

I honed in on the rustling of the trees, waiting until the butterflies had completely dissipated.

I couldn’t believe I was about to enter the home of a man I had just met.

I knew his name.

I knew he liked ballet.

I knew where he lived.

And, that’s it.

I climbed the few steps leading to the glass double doors.

Should I knock?

No, he was expecting me.

I gently pushed open the door. The hinges didn't creak in the least.

The doors opened to reveal a large room with white marble floors and a double staircase that swirled to the top floor. The banisters were made of gold, the dark wood walls were covered in expensive-looking paintings, and each room was separated by a large, open arch.

“Hello? I’m here!”

The waves of my voice echoed around the large, nearly empty room. I felt dwarfed by the high ceilings.

“Welcome.”

my heart skipped a beat. Vincent appeared out of nowhere, sauntering through the archway on my left, hands in pockets.

He remained silent, waiting for me to break the tension.

“Uh-Thank you for having me… your house is beautiful.”

As the gravity of the situation became clear, my tone became somewhat shaky. Vincent gave a small smile.

“Thank you very much. I have quite a few estates-“

Woah, woah, woah. A few estates? As in more than one?

“But this one is by far my favorite. It’s lavish, and quiet.”

The trees gently rustled. In the distance, birds chirped. My heart was pounding in my ears.

“See? Nothing. No sounds except those of nature.”

My knees shook. Those two previous statements felt like one big, blatant sexual innuendo. I hoped that sex wasn't the sole reason for having me in this lovely estate that just so happened to have no neighbors for miles.

He leaned against the wooden arch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants. Vincent furrowed his brow as he observed my concern.

“Please, don’t be worried. I know I was just given the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance. But, I assure you, I possess a sophisticated character.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards.

“Come.”

He said this as he stepped away from the arch, motioning for me to follow him into the next room.

“I have something I believe you will enjoy.”

I returned his stare. His beautiful eyes shone with warmth. He seemed to have changed slightly now that I was in his house. He appeared to be... more at ease. Neither his gaze nor his tone indicated any discomfort. He was no longer concerned with maintaining any sort of facade.

I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him.

I smiled.

“Alright.”

My short heels clacked against the marble. As I strolled past him, I captured his familiar scent and was overcome with nostalgia.

The room I entered was significantly smaller than the one prior. Rather than being adorned in paintings, there was merely one green landscape above the unlit fireplace. One wall was entirely covered in wooden shelves, each of which was crammed to the brim. When I looked closer, I noticed that each section was filled with vinyl records. Some are still wrapped in plastic, while others have clearly been loved for years.

“Oh wow! You have quite the collection!”

I exclaimed as I ran my fingers along the spines of various records. Marquis laughed, amused by my intense interest.

“Oh wow!”

I had to use a surprising amount of force to pry one of the vinyls off the shelf as it was jammed into a completely full rack.

“You have the music from Giselle!”

Vincent strolled over to me, leaning over my shoulder to observe what had captured my attention. It was a record, with a lady and man engaged in dance. The lady wore a blouse and bodice, while the man donned tights and a decorated top.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

His hot breath cascaded across my face and neck as he inquired. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized he had placed his frame directly behind mine.

“Yes, I do. I was in it a long time ago. And, ever since it’s been one of my favorites.”

“Ah, you were in it?”

I flipped the vinyl to the back, reading each track and reminiscing.

“Yes, I was Giselle.”

“But of course you were.”

I scoffed, dismissing his high opinions of me.

“It really was not that impressive. It was a small community theater, and it was years ago before I decided to pursue ballet professionally.”

“It makes little difference where you do it. I'm sure you danced as well as someone from the Opéra National de Paris. Your talent is just as visible in a small theater as it is in the world's largest.”

I pushed my finger between two vinyls to create a gap so I could slip the record back into its original position.

“You flatter me.”

Vincent dragged his fingertips along the spines. As he did so, I fixed my attention along his veiny digits, my brain beginning to slip into places it hadn't been in a long time. I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to return to the present. Vincent drew his gaze across the records, studying them and searching for a specific item.

“Ah!”

He discovered what he was looking for.

“Swan Lake, another one of my favorites.”

He pulled it from the shelf and began to study it.

“Tchaikovsky's music is a work of art. He manipulates the instruments, allowing them to move in a poetic manner. It truly is unparalleled.”

He cocked his head to the side, meeting my eyes.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

He raised his brows, inviting me to respond. I shuffled towards his hot body, nodding.

“Yes, of course, it’s a classic.”

This cover depicted a woman bending over a lake, with a swan at her side. Beautiful blues were used to paint the entire cover.

“One of my dream roles is the swan queen.”

Vincent's lanky fingers pried the record's cover apart, and he slid the vinyl into his palm.

“One day, that role will be yours. I have no doubt about it.”

He handled the record with extreme grace and care. Despite being a large and rather intimidating man, his touch was featherlight. He opened a small cabinet located in the middle of the shelves with his opposite hand, revealing a beautiful maroon record player.

“And when you appear as the swan queen, it will be your role for the rest of your life. The audience will know instantaneously that no performance before or after yours will compare.”

Vincent placed the needle on the record's edge. The sound of a rich oboe filled the entire room. He placed his hands on his hips and viewed the black circle spin in a circle. The atmosphere became cozy and inviting. Despite being in a secluded mansion in the middle of the French countryside, I felt oddly at home. My heartbeat was regular.

Vincent glanced over his shoulder.

“Do you drink tea?”

He inquired.

I was so enthralled by Vincent's lovely figure that I had to shake myself awake when he spoke.

“Oh! Yes, of course. I love tea.”

Vincent unbuttoned the cuffs of his white dress shirt, rolling his sleeves up to reveal lovely veins dancing across his forearms. I gulped, my face growing hotter as butterflies began to hatch within my lower abdomen.

“Would you care to drink tea with me on the porch as we indulge in this lovely music?”

I nodded, unable to hide the grin playing on the corners of my mouth.

“I would like that very much.”

Vincent brought out a large silver tray, atop which was a lovely china set with pink flowers and gold stems.

“I would expect a wealthy man like you to have help. Rich men don’t make their own tea.”

I said, my tone slightly mocking. Vincent chuckled, plopping down onto the cream colored cushions.

“I don't usually make my own tea. But I specifically requested that we spend the day alone. The bustle of people detracts from the peaceful energy.”

I put a sugar cube in one of the adorable cups and poured tea on top, watching the sugar break and dissolve.

I picked up the saucer and leaned back, my body relaxing against the plush cushions. I had a fantastic view. My back was to the house, leaving the entire garden open for inspection. The green stretched as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by a few healthy trees. The property had a gray gravel path that twisted and turned. At the horizon, the gentle hill of the land met the flawless blue sky.

The scenery was lovely. I wish I knew how to paint.

My hair was tousled by a gentle breeze. The soothing music wafted through the house, reaching my ears as a mere whisper.

“Are you enjoying the view?”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the cozy energy as I sipped my tea. The steaming liquid poured down my throat, warming me from within.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

I rested the cup in my lap.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I feel like we talk so much about me.”

I said, chuckling slightly.

Vincent sipped his tea while crossing his legs and gazing out at the horizon. His gorgeous side profile was highlighted by the gentle glow of the sun.

“My life is… not very interesting.”

His demeanor had transformed. Instead of being charming, he had become aloof.

“Oh, I’m sure your life is plenty interesting. I mean, come on, this house is ginormous! What do you do?”

Vincent grit his teeth, avoiding the question.

“I made all of my money in real estate.”

He returned my gaze, his fondness restored.

“Oh! That sounds interesting.”

I took another sip of my delicious tea.

“You must’ve gotten extremely lucky.”

He flashed me a tight smile.

“Yes, absolutely. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be where I am now.”

The birds in the distance chirped peacefully, blending with the music to create a cohesive energy that flowed through my being.

“Please, tell me if I am crossing any boundaries with this question.”

I perked up. He had piqued my interest.

“However, you are a very attractive woman. And you are constantly expressing yourself through the arts. I find it difficult to believe you don't have suitors flocking to you at all times.”

I gulped, my gaze fixed on the tea in my lap.

“Well, honestly, it’s difficult to keep a relationship when you’re constantly either in the theater, or searching for your next opportunity. The little free time I have almost never lines up with the free time of others.”

He fixed his gaze on me, listening intently to every word I said. I'd never had a conversation with a man who was so enthralled by me.

“I’ve had relationships, but it's difficult to make them stick. Lately, I’ve kinda given up. It’s stressful, y’know?”

Vincent hummed.

“Yes, I can imagine.”

He sipped his tea one last time, leaning back completely to display his stunning neck. He leaned forward and placed the china cup atop its saucer before assuming his previous position.

"Well, with me, you never have to worry about that, ma chérie." My few important obligations rarely interfere with my personal life. And, if they do, I promise to commit to our relationship and not let it fall through the cracks."

His dedication surprised me. I raised my brows.

“Well, that is very kind of you. I appreciate the reassurance.”

“That is, if pursuing a relationship with me is something that entices you.”

His statement piqued my interest. I suppose I hadn't considered the question, "What are we?" I was definitely interested in pursuing a relationship with him, despite only having become acquainted a few days ago. I felt a genuine connection, and I'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

Also, the reality that he was filthy rich drew me to him.

I finished the sweet tea, placing it on the black wire coffee table.

“Yes, I believe I would be interested in that.”

I gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

“Good, I am glad to hear that.”

He folded his hands and tucked them into his lap, his gaze following. He was deep in thought, as if caught between reality and his thoughts. Vincent came to after what seemed like an eternity. He returned his gaze to mine. His attention had been drawn to a new emotion. He was looking at me with calculating eyes, as if he was carefully pondering what to say next.

This was unusual for him, as he always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy when I say this, but I have been admiring you for a while.”

To be honest, I didn't mind. And I didn't think he was creepy at all for expressing his admiration for me.

“In all honesty, I’m flattered. The way I see it, I wouldn’t put myself on the stage if I was afraid of extreme admiration. I mean, that is kind of the goal of a performer. Y’know, to make people fall in love with the performance.”

Vincent nodded, his smile widening. He was pleased with my response.

“I recall seeing you perform for the first time. It was about two years ago, in Coppélia. You played a minor role, but your beauty captivated me, and the more I sought you out, the more I fell in love.”

There was something sensual about the thought of Vincent admiring me from afar for years. It all seemed so forbidden, him watching me from a box, carefully calculating the best time to ask me out.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

Vincent shrugged.

“I assumed you were in a relationship. I tried to forget about you, but you were always on my mind. Then I didn't see you at the Opéra national de Paris for a year. My job was particularly demanding at that time. It was best if I concentrated solely on that. So I didn't go looking for you. I assumed that chapter of my life had come to an end. Then I notice you're performing in La Bayadère. And I knew that whatever force governs our universe had given me the opportunity to become your acquaintance.”

I couldn’t stop my face from breaking into a grin. I’ll admit, it felt insanely good to be admired by someone.

“Are you a nostalgic person?”

Yes, extremely.

“Yes, I am.”

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, rising to his feet.

“In that case, I have one more thing I think you would like to see.”

I followed him through the house. If I didn’t have him, I would undoubtedly be lost. Each lavish hallway felt as if it extended for miles. I followed, and followed, and followed. Until eventually we reached a pair of black double doors. They were covered in beautiful flower designs. Vincent turned the golden knobs, pushing the doors open to reveal… a bedroom?

Wow.

It was a nice bedroom, to be sure. The floors were tan wood, and the walls were a dark brown color. A large, black chandelier hung from the ceiling with an expensive crystal thread. The bedframe, curtains, and dresser with a large mirror all looked like they were plucked from the queen's bedroom.

In fact, the whole place felt like it belonged to a king. The gold accents, intricate details, and visibly expensive fabrics all gave me the impression that I was in Buckingham Palace.

Vincent headed over to his dresser, which was located on the opposite side of the room as the bed. He began rummaging through various objects, searching for something.

“Ah! Here it is! I knew I kept it!”

He gave me... a leaflet? No, it's a program. It was the program from my first performance ever at the Opera Nacional de Paris, Coppélia. My eyes shot open.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you kept this!”

I flipped through it, reading the names and contemplating all the wonderful people I'd had the pleasure of working with.

“Of course I kept it.”

I raised my eyes to him. He smiled, pleased that I had found enjoyment in this little bit of nostalgia.

“Um-”

I began.

“I-I don’t mean to take your memories from you.”

I said with a small laugh.

“But, would you mind if I kept this?”

“But of course! There is no need for me to keep a silly little booklet now that I have had the pleasure of meeting the object of my affection.”

We shared a moment of peaceful, happy silence.

“Besides, if it makes you happy, I'll gladly give it to you. We've decided to pursue a relationship. So, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to please you.”

His gaze darted to my lips before returning to my eyes, implying something taboo.

His eyes grew dark. My posture became stiff. Vincent took a large step towards me, and I had to tilt my head almost completely backwards to look him in the eyes.

I was hit with a wave of déjà vu. I was no longer on the streets of Paris, but rather in Vincent's bedroom. This time, there was nothing preventing us from delving head first into our desires.

He cupped my cheek, running his calloused thumb over my cheekbone. My breath caught in my throat. My lower abdomen was in knots, more from anticipation than from nerves. There wasn't much that could happen on the dark streets of Paris. But suddenly everything was possible and within reach. All I had to do was reach out and grab them.

“The relationships you’ve been in… have any of them had the pleasure of…”

His voice trailed off, beckoning me to finish the thought.

I gulped, a lump forming in my throat.

“No.”

My voice quivered as I felt overpowered by his pressing gaze.

Vincent tutted crispy.

“Pity.”

He stated, his voice lowering to a sensuous whisper. I envisioned him whispering sweet nothings into my ear while thrusting mercilessly into my tight cunt.

My stomach flipped.

My knees shook.

All of the blood in my body rushed to my core.

Wetness began to pool in my panties.

I adjusted my weight uncomfortably, anticipating Vincent's next move.

He leaned forward, his lips inches away from mine. I desperately wanted to break the tension by pressing my mouth to his, thereby beginning the downward spiral of pleasure. However, my train of thought was derailed when I felt Vincent’s opposite hand glide up my thigh.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sighing in pleasure as his digits swiftly located my clothed clit. He tenderly massaged my sensitive bud. The subtle sensation was utterly euphoric. My head bowed forward, my hands anxiously clutching his white dress shirt.

Vincent jerked my head upwards, forcing my misty eyes to lock with his lust blown pupils.

“You’re already so wet, ma chérie. And I have barely even touched you.”

His velvety accent became 10 times more seductive now that it had fallen an octave.

“Oh, it will be so wonderful to watch you come undone.”

He pressed his plush lips to my jugular, applying gentle kisses to my neck as he continued to draw figure eights onto my clothed clit. I threw my arms around his neck, hanging onto his strong frame as my knees threatened to give out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs and taste your sweet little cunt.”

I couldn’t handle the erotic tone combined with the featherlight touches to my clit. It was far too much for my touch starved body to handle. needed something. I was ravenous for his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I wanted so badly to be destroyed by him, to be given such pleasure that I fear coming back to reality.

“Vincent.”

I said between heavy breaths.

“Yes ma chérie?”

My jaw hung upon, mouth unable to form coherent sentences.

“P-Please. I need you-I need you so bad.”

Vincent drew back, his lips slamming into mine. Our mouths matched like puzzle pieces. We were so glorious together that I swear I could hear angels singing in perfect harmony.

“What would you like me to do to you ma belle, hm?”

He said in between fiery kisses.

“Make me cum, Vincent, please.”

His tongue slid into my mouth, giving me a fleeting taste of his passion before he quickly yanked it back. I was flustered. Our connection had been severed, and I was unsure as to why.

Vincent grasped my chin, forcing me to keep my head still.

His hair was struggling to remain neat. The single, dangling strand was a great metaphor for his once well-kept demeanor now crumbling before my eyes.

“Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.”

He demanded.

Mt jaw quivered. His hand had retreated from my core and now lay atop the swell of my hip.

“P-Please Vincent. I need you. I need you so bad.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

“Oh, ma chérie, I know you can do better than that.”

He placed his lips to mine, swiftly reigniting the flame before suffocating it once more.

“Be my good girl and beg.”

I locked gazes with Vincent, feeling his sexual energy course through my body in waves.

“Please-“

I began, my desire somewhat strangling the words within my throat.

“Please Vincent… Please, I need you to make me cum.”

I brought my palms to his chest, attempting to quickly unbutton his dress shirt. Unfortunately, my hands were far too jittery and the buttons were far too small for me to make any significant progress.

“What exactly do you want ma belle, hm? Tell me.”

His velvety accent wafted through me whenever he spoke, adding to the wetness that had begun to pool in my panties.

“Please, please. I need you.”

Thankfully, the sexual tension had subsided just enough for me to compose meaningful sentences.

“Please, please, I need you. I need your mouth between my legs. I need-I need you to fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please, please make me cum it’s all I can think about.”

A devious smirk spread across Vincent’s face.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He connected our lips, reigniting the raging fire of desire that burned between us. Vincent hoisted me off the floor, his large hands traveling up my short sundress and resting against my ass. He carried me with ease, his hands gentle but his lips aggressive.

Vincent tossed me onto the bed with little regard for tenderness. However, I was barely impacted by the blow, as the mattress quickly suppressed and conformed to my physique.

I lay, my gaze fixed upwards towards Vincent’s lanky frame. The dim yet sensual lights foregrounded the sharp curvatures of his face. His long digits located his top button and he began to leisurely undo his shirt without breaking eye contact.

Suddenly, I became aware that my dress had ridden up my thighs, exposing my evident desire. I grasped the hem, pushing it downwards in a futile attempt to conceal my yearning. Vincent ceased his movements, crawling over the end of the bedframe with haste.

His hand wrapped around my wrist, pinning my hand above my head.

My eyes darted upwards, the breath hitching in my throat as I perceived his close proximity. Vincent’s previously quintessential appearance was slowly dissolving. A few strands of hair had broken loose from their original location and were now dangling aimlessly above his brow. Furthermore, his shirt was halfway undone, exposing his prominent collarbone and somewhat highlighting his toned chest.

“Don’t cover up for me, ma belle.”

He murmured, his sultry accent sending a wave of desire to my lower abdomen. My cunt throbbed.

“I want nothing more than to see every inch of you.”

Vincent lodged his thigh between my legs, his clothed knee grazing against my hot core. I jolted, a wave of heat coursing through my body. My back arched instinctively, mouth falling open as I involuntarily ground my hips against his thigh in an effort to increase friction.

Unfortunately, he revoked his leg before I was able to procure further pleasure. His free hand followed the soft curve of my side, sending shivers down my spine. My body became cold with anticipation. Goosebumps rose along my skin.

Vincent’s calloused fingertips grazed against my clothed clit. Heat radiated from my wet core as I squeezed my eyes shut. My brow furrowed as he began to slowly draw figure eights onto my clit.

“Ah, you are so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

His soft lips connected to my jugular, peppering gentle kisses down my neck.

“I’ve thought about this moment for a long while.”

With his hands required to support his weight as he descended, his powerful clasp released my wrist. I entangled my fingers in his silky hair, further ruining his pristine image.

“Although I pride myself on maintaining a certain level of class, I can’t deny that I’ve often thought about how satisfying it would be to bring you immense pleasure.”

He continued to press his lips against my hot skin, his face now level with my clothed breasts.

Vincent leaned back on his knees. He dragged his eyes up and down my frame, running his tongue across his bottom lip. I suddenly felt small under his gaze.

His tender fingertips located the ball of my ankle, and he hastily removed both of my short heels, tossing them aimlessly to the floor. After he had discarded my shoes, he trailed his large palms upwards, caressing my calves, then my thighs. I watched intently as his veiny hands slipped under the hem of my dress. Vincent hooked a finger in the waistband of my panties, dragging them down my legs at a painfully slow pace.

Once I was fully exposed, he assumed a position between my legs. Thankfully, the bed was grand enough for him to lay comfortably.

All the blood in my body had rushed to my core, and I could feel my heartbeat throbbing vehemently within my lower abdomen.

Vincent trailed his moist lips along my inner thigh, gazing up at me devilishly through his lashes as he did so. He was well aware that his teasing behavior was propelling me into a state of lust filled desperation.

When he established that he had prolonged my suffering enough, he hastily buried his face between my thighs. I gasped, throwing my head back onto the opulent pillows. My thighs instinctively clenched around his head, but Vincent’s strong hands pulled my legs apart to free himself.

He flattened his tongue against my clit, taking his time to draw out his movements so as to not supply me with an orgasm too hastily. He was thoroughly enjoying the elongation of my pleasure.

After a brief moment of supplying delicate sensations to my clit, I felt the tip of his finger prod at my entrance. I threw my hands upwards, grasping onto the bed frame, my knuckles quickly turning white.

“Oh fuck!”

I exclaimed, grinding my hips against his gorgeous face.

“Vincent-Vincent your mouth feels so good, holy shit.”

I spoke in mangled cries, not caring to keep my voice down. After all, there was no one around for miles to be bothered by my proclamations.

His middle two fingers pushed into my entrance, thrusting upwards to stimulate my walls.

“You taste wonderful, ma belle.”

He uttered, continuing to fuck me with his fingers throguhout the duration of his praise. Vincent located my g spot. My nails dug into the bedframe, undoubtedly leaving prominent scratches. He took note of my non verbal cues.

Vincent increased the intensity of his fingers. Quickly, the coil of pleasure began to tighten within my lower abdomen. I bucked my hips against his face, but Vincent quickly stifled my movements by pressing my hips into the mattress.

“Are you close?”

He murmured against my clit. The gentle vibrations set my nerves ablaze with white hot desire.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so close.”

I mumbled, my arms beginning to tremble as I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my orgasm begin to seep into the corners of my brain.

Vincent’s long digits expertly located my g spot with every thrust.

His warm mouth continued to duck and stimulate my swollen bundle of nerves.

The erotic sounds of his fingers fucking my cunt reverberated loudly throguhout the predominantly empty bedroom.

“Then cum for me, ma chérie.”

His endearing words proved to be the last necessary step in reaching my release. The tension that had built within my stomach exploded as I came gloriously all over his face. My back felt as though it had been rammed into a solid brick wall.

My chest heaved, and I found it arduous to supply my lungs with sufficient oxygen.

My eyelids began to flutter open as the movements of both his tongue and fingers slowed. When he removed his digits and mouth, I was overcome with a glorious sensation of complete satisfaction. Both my mind and body succumbed to bliss. I had never before experienced such an absence of disquiet.

Vincent climbed over me, his torso now bare.

I cracked a small grin, my palms flattening against the expanse of his soft chest. His lips shone with my arousal. I trailed my fingertips slowly downwards, halting when I reached his thick leather belt. I began to undo the buckle, however, Vincent caught wind of my intentions. With one hand, he engulfed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. I gasped.

“Oh, no, not now.”

His gentle lips tenderly kissed the soft divot behind my ear. I took a deep breath, the scent of his pricey, heavy fragrance clouding my mind.

“I have waited far too long for this moment. It would be foolish of me to allow you to furnish pleasure when my desire has been consuming me for years.”

Vincent moved off of me and stood to remove the remainder of his clothes. With a pleasurable whoosh, he pulled his belt from the loops of his formal pants. Subsequently, he removed his shoes and allowed his trousers to gather about his ankles.

He met my stare, the mellow hue of the faint overhead lights collecting within his green irises.

“You look beautiful.”

Once again, the heat from my body began to travel downwards.

Vincent’s boxers were the final article of clothing to be removed. I gulped audibly, as his sizable cock was now standing fully erect.

Holy shit, I thought to myself.

He possessed one of the most winsome cock I had ever laid eyes on. I clenched my thighs together, my cunt eagerly clenching around nothing.

When he had finished undressing, he climbed back over me and our lips met once again. I melted into the kiss, exhaling sensually as I sunk into the plush mattress. Vincent’s hand grasped the hem of my dress, tugging it upwards until I was forced to raise my arms.

Thankfully, the supportive nature of the outfit allowed me to function in the absence of a bra. As a result, my entire body was now fully exposed for Vincent’s piercing gaze.

He discarded the dress and dropped his hips suggestively until his prominent erection pressed against my lower stomach.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, beckoning him to progress further. Vincent shuffled his hips, tip now dangerously close to my aching cunt. But, before he slipped inside of me, he raised a free hand and tenderly brushed a few unruly strands of hair from my damp forehead.

“If you wish to stop at any moment, merely apprise me and I shall cease.”

I gave him a nod, throwing my arms around his neck to provide an anchor. Vincent pressed his lips to my neck, applying a few gentle kisses before sliding his cock into my wet cunt.

My walls stretched, hastily conforming to his rather large girth. My back arched into his solid torso. I inhaled sharply as he buried the entirety of his length deep within me.

“Are you alright, ma chérie?”

His body stilled. I groaned in mild frustration.

“Y-yeah. I’m more than alright. P-please just fuck me already. I-I need you so bad.”

Vincent pulled back. His lips were plush. His hair was disheveled. His cheeks were a bright shade of pink.

His disarranged appearance was a stark contrast to the previously sophisticated man I had met at the start of this afternoon. However, I do consider the duality of man to be a topic of the utmost enticement. There is something captivating about the notion of commencing a relationship with someone who has a secret side that solely you have the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.

Without further words, Vincent began to roll his hips. The slight pain of his cock quickly dissipated to create room for immense pleasure.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“Does that feel good? Hm?”

He spoke with a slight vocal fry. The raspiness of his tone elicited a visceral reaction. I dragged my nails along his smooth back, undoubtedly breaking skin.

He grumbled deep within his chest.

When I didn’t answer, Vincent pulled his face back, blown pupils meeting mine. I gazed at him through half lidded eyes. I found it difficult to ignite passionate eye contact when I was presented with the distraction of his cock expertly grazing against my g spot with every fervent jerk of his hips.

He wrapped a large hand around my neck. My pulse rose to the top of my skin as black spots began to cloud my vision.

“Come on, ma belle, be my good girl. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

I exhaled a shuddering breath.

“F-fuck… you feel so good inside me Vincent.”

I gulped.

“Y-your cock feels so good.”

Vincent’s skin began to sheen with a thin layer of perspiration. The unruly strands of brown hair deepened in color as they stuck to his forehead. I moaned pornographically as the grip on my neck constricted once more. My jaw dropped. The brief lack of oxygen only added to the flurry of incoherent thoughts bouncing around my skull.

“Oh, my, you’re such a good girl for me.”

He gulped, a soft sigh escaping his swollen lips.

“You’re taking me so well.”

The erotic words combined with his smooth accent contributed to the tightening of my lower abdomen.

I was close, dangerously close.

I could feel my body reaching the edge, and I would soon fall into a state of euphoria.

Vincent’s adjusted his hips ever so slightly, his tip now reaching deeper than before.

I instinctively turned my head away. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I buried my face into the bed. My brow furrowed. My eyes squeezed shut as I anticipated my release.

Vincent utilized his thumb to reposition my face.

“No, don’t look away. Be my good girl and look me in the eyes.”

I forced my eyelids open, meeting his piercing stare as ever so slightly increased the frequency of his thrusts. Every instinct beckoned me to throw my head back, but I fought the desire. And, I instead kept my eyes fixated on Vincent’s blown pupils that had almost entirely consumed his irises.

“I want to watch you. I want to see your face as you cum all over my cock.”

I gave him a slight nod, indicating that I could hear while trapped in my lustful stupor.

His hand traveled downwards, gently caressing my curves before reaching my swollen clit. Vincent applied gentle pressure, and, with that, I let go.

I kept my eyes fixated on him, allowing my face to contort as it pleased.

Vincent groaned loudly, his cum coating my walls.

He continued to fuck me throguh my orgasm. His movements gradually slowed as the fog of euphoria began to dissipate. My chest rose and collapsed with fervor.

When I deemed it safe to break eye contact, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. Suddenly, I became aware of the gravitational pull the bed exerted on my body.

Jesus, I was exhausted.

Vincent removed his cock from my core. However, he remained atop me, tenderly pushing my unkempt hair back to create mild uniformity.

“You may stay here, if you’d like, for however long you wish.”

His voice was as it had been prior to our physical encounter.

I giggled, my mouth breaking into a slight smile.

“Your house is magnificent.”

I met his gaze, his eyes now possessing a tender quality.

“I don’t know if I ever want to leave.”

I said with a scoff.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips.

“Then don’t, stay here for as long as your heart desires.”

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