#which was why the chapters took so long to be posted

[scribbling-dragon]

writing shorter oneshots has actually been so much fun recently. like, seriously, i love doing them. it’s great! im having fun, and being able to sit down and write something short n sweet has been super nice

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

me using this blog as my main is funny to me like. i'm not even really hyperfixated on rhythm heaven rn gfgffgggggfgfd-

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter six || the proxies

tw: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: teehee smut😛 virginity loss, overstimulation

a/n: i am happy to announce hitchhikers is now on Ao3! find the link posted with the hitchhiker masterlist: here

<— previous chapter

Nova felt like she was slipping. Her hands were shaky as she grabbed her coffee mug. The hot liquid swished around in the ceramic cup, threatening to spill onto her hand.

Carefully she took a sip, breathing deeply. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept more than an hour. She was so close to solving the Winston case, her insomnia would have to wait. Nova considered herself to be a logical person. Thats why she knew the tall man she was seeing wasn’t real. She decided to ignore her delusions and seek therapy once the case was over. After all, an impossibly tall man with no face couldn’t possibly exist.

She noticed him for the first time in her kitchen, the strange being observing her from outside of her window. Nova freaked out, a panic anxiety sending her into a short lived frenzy. Her heart was the only sound she could hear, the organ threatening to fail. She had to rationalize her thoughts. To understand working long hours and living off of coffee and nicotine wasn’t healthy. So she ignored what she deemed to be illusions her mind was creating.

As time went on her symptoms began to worsen, faint static and the paranoia of being watched progressing. Nova ignored them all, satisfaction washing over her as she studied her report. She had invited you to her office to share the good news. The news that made all of her torment and suffering worth it. Nova Parker had solved the homicide of Detective Winston.

Originally you hadn’t thought much into Novas invitation. Toby opted to help you make blueberry muffins, stealing a few for himself of course. It was refreshing, her invitation was. It got you out of your apartment and you got to see your best friend. What more could you ask for? You had only managed to speak to Nova a few times on the phone. You tried not to burden her with the details of your life. You briefly mentioned your suspected break in and how the boys had stayed around for your protection. Nova had enough on her plate. She didn't need your paranoia on there too. The detectives down at the station knew you, your presence unquestioned as you led Toby down the small hallway. “Y-you’re sure she’s n-n-not going to h-have an issue with me being here?” Toby questioned. He knew if he didn’t like Nova, there was no way she liked him.

“You helped make the muffins. You deserve a thank you at least,” You said calmly. Truthfully you brought Toby for your own comfort. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been in public alone. Toby made you comfortable, the brunette excited to be attached to you at the hip. After your kiss with Brian your thoughts had wondered to pure filth. Many which included Toby alone, but even more including Brian, Tim, and Toby all together. You couldn’t deny the throbbing that was beginning to form in your core. You knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore your body’s hunger for much longer.

You knocked on Nova's office door, your exhausted best friend opening the door. Black circles decorated her eyes, her skin dry and hair pulled into a sloppy bun. "Hey Nov," You greeted, instantly greeting her with a hug. Nova hugged you back, her eyes meeting Toby's over your shoulder. "What is he doing here?" She questioned. You pulled away from the hug, lifting up the foil to show Nova the plate of blueberry muffins. "We thought you might be hungry, so we made you something to eat," You told her. Your eyes narrowed at the sight of Nova's visible disapproval. She took the plate from Toby, giving him a fake smile. "Thank you for the muffins. Would you mind waiting in the hallway for a moment?" She asked. Her question sounded more like a command more than a mild suggestion.

Toby stood there unmoved, awaiting your instructions. "It's okay Toby just give us a moment," You say. Toby nodded, heading into the hallway and shutting the door behind him. "You should be nicer to him, he helped me make those muffins for you," You told Nova. She rounded her desk, lifting up the foil and eyeing the food suspiciously. "Did you supervise him when he made these?" She questioned. You couldn't understand her harsh tone. "No? We made them together," You answered. You watched in horror as she tossed the plate in a nearby trashcan. "Hey! What the fuck is your problem?" You gasped. Nova took a seat in her large desk chair, boxes of her belongings still packed in the room around her. She had been given Detective Winston's office and had not made a single effort to make herself comfortable.

"Did you even see my interview on the news?" Nova asked abruptly. You noticed the way her fingers strummed against her desk nervously. "No? Was I supposed to?" You asked. Nova rolled her eyes. "If you cared about my well being or this case at all, yes," She answered blandly. Behind her you noticed an old school chalkboard, one that was covered in scribbles and barely readable cursive handwriting. "Nova I'm not a detective-" You began, Nova raising her hand to stop you. You couldn't understand her odd behavior. "This case is putting a target on my back. I can't take any risk right now. I have to solve this case before it gets me killed," Nova explained.

You glanced at the muffins discarded in the trash can. "So you think someone is going to poison you?" You asked. Nova stood up, pushing her chair aside. "If I told you something that sounded crazy you'd trust me, right?" She asked. She leaned against the desk, your eyes widening. "Because I don't want you to forget. It's us, it has always been us against everyone else," Nova reminded you. You noticed the wrinkles in her uniform and a faint brown coffee stain on the bottom of her button up. "O-okay?" You agreed slowly. Nova took a deep breath, her eyes bewildered as she met your confused gaze. "That night on Halloween was when Winston was killed. Based on your location, when you picked up your hitchhiker loverboys you were only two miles away from Winston's body," Nova started.

You hadn't thought about it in a while, Nova and you sharing locations. You had no reason to. You never snooped on where Nova was and you assumed the same for her. It was supposed to be for emergencies, the two of you living alone. If you didn't include Nova's German Shepard. "What exactly are you getting at?" You asked sharply. Nova sighed, turning around and facing the chalkboard. "Look Y/n I know that things after Cameron weren't easy. And I knew one day you'd find a rebound. Or in this case, a few of them," She said calmly. You slowly rose from your chair, your eyes furrowing. "But you need to listen to me. I think your hitchhikers are behind this," She told you. She finally faced you, the color having drained from your face.

"On what principle? Because they were partying in the woods? We were too if you don't recall," You hissed. You walked up to the chalkboard, examining the scribbles. "Nova you need some sleep. Half of this isn't even legible. You're not making sense," You say calmly. In a swift motion she was on you, her hands roughly grabbing your upper arms. "Wake up! There is three of them. They mysteriously came from the woods with no way of getting home? Near the scene of the crime?!" Nova exclaimed. She shook you violently, your eyes widened in fear. "They cosplayed as hitchhikers I know it. They are only using you to get closer to me. Don't you see?" She asked.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, your eyes flickering back and forth. You searched her gaze for any sign of humor. For any sign that this wasn't real. Once you realized she was stone cold serious, your gaze hardened. "How fucking dare you!" You screeched. You pushed her off of you, causing her to take a couple of steps backwards. It was then Toby pushed his way back inside of the office, jumping over Nova's desk. He was eerily calm, his sights focused on you. His eyes searched your body for any sign of harm, his slender body standing in between you and Nova.

"For fucking starters. Stop calling them hitchhikers like its a goddamn slur! At the end of the day they're my friends above all else. And even if they were more or if they weren't, it's none of your business!" You bellowed. You were unbelievably pissed, anger washing over you. "You need to listen and Toby needs to-" Nova started, pointing towards the door. Toby stood unmoving, awaiting your command. "Toby isn't going anywhere. You know what Nova? Can you really just not stand to see me happy?" You hissed. Nova gasped, her worn out face hardening. She went to take a step towards you, Toby silently blocking her way.

"Do you not understand? The reason your apartment was broken into was because of this!" Nova snapped. She untucked her button up, revealing a vanilla folder tucked into her waistband. "This is what they were looking for," She said, slamming it onto her desk. She glared up at Toby, who on the inside was fighting the urge to slice her in half. "I'm onto you asshole, I won't stop until you're all in jail or on the other end of my python," Nova snarled. Toby allowed you to push him behind you, your protectiveness flattering him. "That is enough!" You growled. A knock on her office door interrupted the argument, two of Nova's officers watching the scene unfold. "Everything alright in here ladies?" The first one asked, his gaze cautiously flickering to Toby.

"Everything is just fine. We were just leaving," You said firmly. You grabbed Toby's wrist, dragging him towards the door. Nova tried to stop you, her hand managing to reach your shoulder. "Please just wait, listen to me," Nova pleaded. You shoved her arm off, giving her a look so cold it could kill. "I don't recognize you anymore," You spit, watching her face fall. With those words craved in stone, you led Toby back home.

\/

Toby could see you were upset. The entire walk home you were silent, your face revealing that your mind was easily in a frenzy. Even as Toby quietly grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers with his, your gaze remained hardened. Once the two of you entered your apartment, you sat down on the couch in defeat. You were on the verge of tears, tossing your beanie aside. Toby kneeled in front of you, frowning at the sight of tears flooding your waterline. "I-I'm so sorry Toby I never should have brought you. She's gone mad," You whimpered.

Toby nuzzled his way in between your knees, bringing his bandaged hands to your face. "Hey i-it's okay," He said softly. His thumbs lovingly stroked your cheeks, wiping away a salty tear. Your watery eyes met his, placing your hands on top of his. Your touch was nice and warm, Toby's heart began to pound as you leaned in closer to him. He melted into you as you brought your lips to his. Toby tried to copy your motions, his inexperience beginning to show. You didn't seem to care, your lips working against his as his teeth clashed with his. You swiped your tongue on his lower lip, requesting access.

Afraid you'd feel the gash in his cheek, Toby pulled away with wide eyes. You noticed immediately, feeling guilty. "Holy shit I'm so sorry," You gasped, your face turning red. Toby swallowed, gaining the confidence to bring his lips back to yours. You raked your fingers through his chestnut curls, trying to bring him hopelessly closer to you. "C'mere," You whined. Toby joined you on the couch, crawling on top of you as you laid on your back. As soon as you seemed comfortable his desperate lips found your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. You tilted your head back, whimpering his name. "Fuck," Toby grumbled into your skin. He could feel your hips grinding upwards, his cock growing harder into his jeans.

"H-how far d-do you um-" Toby began to ask, his face flushing pink. You bit the inside of your cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I want you Toby, please," You whispered. Toby grinned down at you, nodding affirmatively. He grabbed the hem of your shirt, helping you toss it over your head. His pupils expanded at the sight of your lacey black bra, your face only growing more red by the minute. His hands were shaky as he reached around you, fiddling with the clasp. "Toby?" You whispered. He finally unclasped the bra, tossing it aside. "Hmm?" He hummed. You looked at him shyly, your nipples hardening from the cold air. "You've never done this before, have you?" You asked softly.

Toby shook his head, trying to focus on your words instead of your breast. "We don't have to," You say, not wanting the brunette to feel pressured in any sort of way. Toby's chocolate orbs met yours, his pupils blown with lust. "I-I want to f-f-fuck you so bad it hurts," He confessed, his confession bordering a plea. He lowered himself to your breast, maintaining eye contact as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. You moaned as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, your back arching at the slightest sensation. You couldn't remember the last time you had done anything like this, nevertheless have sex. Toby grazed his teeth over your nipples, a painful whine escaping your throat. You could feel yourself getting wetter, your body on fire with a craving only Toby could satisfy.

He released your nipple with a pop, his lips turning a darker pink. T-that okay?" He asked. You nodded, licking your dry lips. "Please keep going," You whimpered. Toby could've sucked on your breast all day, but he needed more. He kissed down your stomach slowly, keeping his gaze on your face. He couldn't get enough of your facial expressions, his hands shaky as they undid you jeans. You helped him slide them and your panties downwards, discarding them onto the floor. Toby's experience was very minimal. He had only really jacked off and watched porn. He never thought he'd be in this position, his lips kissing your exposed waist.

Your hand ran through his curls, desperately trying to drag him to your aching cunt. Toby dug in his memory, forcing himself to remember everything in porn that made the girl feel good. He nervously licked up your folds, his name falling off of your lips. Toby couldn't quite explain it, but he liked that. A lot. He opened up your folds, examining your drenched cunt. Unsurely, he attached his lips to your clit, watching in amazement as your back arched off of the couch. "F-fuck Toby!" You whined, yanking at the roots of his hair. Toby couldn't feel pain but he could feel the sensation of you desperately wanting more. He sucked at your clit like his life depended on it, his eyes watching you fall apart on his tongue.

Curiously he released your throbbing clit, bringing his warm tongue to your entrance. Toby studied you as he brought it inside of your entrance, your hips grinding against his face. "T-Toby I need more, please," You stuttered, stumbling over your own words. Toby brought two fingers to your cunt, mimicking what he had seen done before. He shoved them inside of you slowly, his cock growing achingly harder at the feeling of your walls around his fingers. "C-curl them upwards for me, please," You pleaded, biting your bottom lip. Toby happily did as instructed, your moans growing louder. He curiously brought his lips back to your clit, sucking at the bud and curling his fingers.

He relished in your unholy sounds as he repeated the motions, finger fucking you mercilessly. He had no perception of how fast he was going, his gaze focused on you. You were falling apart for him, your fingers keeping his head locked in place as he toyed with your cunt. You felt a familiar cord knot inside of your stomach, your thighs squeezing around Toby's head. If he had to pick a place to die, this would be it. Buried in your cunt being squeezed by your thighs. "Toby, i'm gonna cum," You whined. Toby smirked into your folds, grinding his hips against the couch to give himself a little bit of relief.

Seeing you like this, so hot and bothered, was enough to make him cum in his pants. He continued curling his fingers inside of you, brushing against your g spot. The face you made when you came was so erotic Toby wanted to see it again and again and again. He finger fucked you through your high, adoring the feeling of your walls spasming around his fingers as you came. He continued to abuse your cunt, his fingers relentless. "You c-can take it. Give m-me another one," Toby purred, maintaining eye contact as he placed a teasing kiss to your inner thigh. His lips were glossy with your juices, his lips attaching themselves to your inner thighs. He sucked at the sensitive skin, the sound of your whimpers euphoric.

Your legs began to shake, your back arching off of the couch again. Toby was sure your neighbors could hear you and he truly hoped they did. He began to finger fuck you faster, grinning at the sight of the hickies forming over your stretchmarks on your inner thighs. He brought his other hand to your clit, flicking it back and forth. "That's it-t-t. Cum for me. You c-can do it," Toby cooed. Your second orgasm washed over you in a wave, your thighs trembling. Toby went to dive back in between your folds, your hand stopping him. "If you keep making me cum on your face, you won't be able to fuck me," You giggle nervously.

It clicked in Toby’s mind what you were trying to say, the brunette finally emerging from between your thighs. He tossed his shirt over his head, varieties of scars covering his chest. Your fingertips slowly tracing them. You wanted to ask, Toby knew that. He also knew you wouldn’t. “I’m just c-c-clumsy,” He said, before leaning forward. He placed his lips back against yours, groaning into your mouth as you began to fiddle with his belt. With his help he took off his pants and boxers as well, tossing them onto the floor. He pumped his shaft a few times, before rubbing his tip up and down your drenched folds. You whimpered as his cock brushed against your swollen clit.

Slowly Toby guided himself to your entrance, pushing himself inside of you. He leaned forward, his hand finding yours. You laced your fingers with his, sinful noises escaping your lips as he slid inside of you. Toby was practically vibrating with desire, his body shaking as he bottomed out inside of you. With your spare hand you cupped his face. “You alright?” You whispered. Toby met your gaze, squeezing your hands. “Feels so good,” He whimpered. You gave him a small smile, the brunette beginning to move. Your noises were only more encouragement, Toby’s hips beginning to pick up the pace. His cock began to hit your g spot just right, the brunette growing more confident as you made more lewd noises.

“Y-you’re fucking milking m-me,” Toby whimpered, fucking into you harder. You squeezed his hand as he rammed into you, nuzzling his face into your neck. He sloppily sucked at your skin, trying to litter you in as many marks as possible. You couldn’t stop the noises that came out of your mouth, Toby’s cock abusing your g spot. “T-Toby!” You whined, your thighs beginning to shake. You could feel your final orgasm coming, Toby’s hips merciless. For a virgin he was fucking you so roughly you could hardly believe he was one. You bit your bottom lip as nibbled at your neck.

Toby was a stammering stuttering mess, his groans incoherent babbles of how good you felt. You squeezed his hand as you came for the third time, your thighs trembling at the feeling of your release. You were on cloud nine, your body in a state of euphoria as Toby came inside of you. Once he had come down from a little bit of his high, his eyes widened in fear. “Holy f-f-fuck i’m so sorry I did not mean to cum-” He rambled so quickly you barely understood him. He met your fucked out gaze, a cock drunken smile crossing your lips.

“You’re fine, just buy me a plan b, okay?”

Toby would buy you all of the plan b’s in the world just to cum in you over and over again.

—> next chapter

[etherealstar-writes]

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 10

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: ten

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

liked by alessiarusso99, leahwilliamsonn and 4000 others

yourusername: feeling unmotivated to do anything today 😔

niamhcharles: heyyy

ellatoone: hi

alessiarusso99: hey y/n <33

lottewubbenmoy: ❤️❤️

user1: anyone know who she is and why the whole team is suddenly here?

stanwaygeorgia: hellooo

leahwilliamsonn: hey ❤️

user2: what the hell is happening here?

chloekelly: i don't think i've ever spoken to you but i've been told to comment and say hi ↳ user3: help this comment 😭😭

danisterling: bestie .... why is the whole england team commenting on your post .... ↳ yourusername: well you see ....

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

It has been a day since you'd left the group chat and you had no idea what to do. You felt as though you might have overreacted a bit by leaving, but also at the same time the embarrassment of having talked about them without knowing it was them kinda balanced that and you'd freaked out.

But also, you understood their side. Like if you were a celebrity, you wouldn't really just straight up tell a random stranger you accidentally added to your chat who you were.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face in your pillow. Your phone was tossed somewhere on your bed and was continuously buzzing with notifications. You knew exactly why, and with a sigh, you grabbed your phone.

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM elton added the imposter aka y/n ♥︎

elton y/n pleaseee don't leave

willybum at least hear us out

the REAL karate kid y/n?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

stairway

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ fine .... i'm listening

the REAL karate kid we're incredibly sorry for not telling you who we were we were planning to after the euros but we just didn't know how

willybum yeah we didn't want you to freak out

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ well i FREAKED OUT incredibly after figuring it out myself!!

elton i'm kinda proud of you for finally figuring it out ngl took ya long enough

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ i hate you i'm leaving

elton

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

neev ......

stairway so um ... you're not mad at us anymore 🥺🙏

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ i was never really mad at you guys tbh kinda hurt yeah but i completely understand why you never told me honestly i just completely freaked out and was embarrassed over the fact that i was an idiot to not figure it out sooner so in a mix of annoyance and embarrassment panic i kinda just left? sorryyyy

lotte nooo, don't be sorry your reaction was completely understandable we're the ones truly sorry once again

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ stop it you guysss it's all good

willybum it's not gonna be weird now that you know us yeah?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ nahhhh y'all are still my favourite stalkers <33

elton OML y/n we're not stalkers!!

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ shore shore whatever you say my fav stalkers :)

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

sorry for being unactive for the past whole week, been really busy, but i hope this short chapter makes up for it <33

more chaotic chapters are yet to come :)

part eleven here

[sugoi-and-spice]

Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission

Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

AO3 Link

A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.

Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.

I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.

Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)

Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD

“Hey, hey— are you alright?”

She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 

“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?

The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.

She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”

And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.

But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.

Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.

“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”

“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”

“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”

“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”

“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.

She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.

“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”

She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.

Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:

“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.

Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.

“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”

And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.

The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.

But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.

It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.

And that was better than nothing she supposed.

Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”

Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.

“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”

She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”

Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”

She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”

Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”

She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.

“If I do… Do you mind—”

“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”

She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 

The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.

And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.

She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.

She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.

Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”

She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.

“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 

Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.

She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.

If only for a little bit.

“What’s going on?”

She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.

“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”

“You start your period or something?”

He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 

Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.

“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”

She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.

“Are you nauseous at all?”

Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.

“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.

“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”

He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.

And between her legs.

“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.

“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”

“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”

She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 

…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?

She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.

“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.

He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.

“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”

She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.

“No funny business?” she pressed.

He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”

More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.

So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.

Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.

She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.

“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”

Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”

In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.

With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.

A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 

He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.

“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”

“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.

She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”

He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.

Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.

She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 

“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”

She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.

By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.

Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.

“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”

She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.

“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”

It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 

Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.

Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.

He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 

Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 

Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.

Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.

And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.

It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Shigaraki wasn’t here.

She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…

She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…

Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.

Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.

Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.

If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.

She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 

She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.

It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.

And really fucking nauseous.

She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.

A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.

“Let it out. Just let it all out.”

She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.

“Here.”

She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.

 “Drink some of it too.”

She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 

And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 

Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”

“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”

She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.

“Don’t like salmon?”

“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”

“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”

Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.

“W-What?”

Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 

Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 

Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.

“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.

She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”

She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 

He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”

She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.

“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 

“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”

He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 

She sighed.

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 

But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.

She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.

But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.

Like something was wrong .

Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.

There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…

And a little dish of four pills. 

Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…

“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”

As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.

And she was ready to get the fuck off.

“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”

“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”

Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 

“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”

He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”

He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…

“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”

He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.

“ Both of you .”

She froze.

No.

No, he couldn’t mean—

She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:

“... what? ”

Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.

“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”

She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.

He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!

“Th-That’s not funny.”

His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.

“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”

“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”

“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”

He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”

Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.

“B-But my birth control pills…”

“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”

Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.

And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 

Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.

Horribly fucking right.

Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 

“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”

His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.

“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”

[felibrary]

╭──╯PAIRING: aventurine x fem!reader

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS:  Out of everyone this could’ve happened to, of course, it struck you. As a barista, you meet new customers every day but a fateful encounter with a stupid(ly handsome) stranger, turns into two and three and to the point of no return, and somewhere along the way catching yourself faltering for his persistent charms annoyance.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

CONTENT & GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, barista!reader, cursing, light angst if you squint, fluff, march is the n1 shipper, vague mentions of ratio, banter and bickering (more from readers side), no beta-read we die like baiheng

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the last chapter was posted like 2 weeks ago? i think not sure. sorry guys i just had no motivation in the previous few weeks at all 😭😭 but here it is, enjoy! also just cause this took super long to write doesn't equal it being super good 😓

ART CREDITS: none of the characters or art belong to me all art credits go to @/kkuekkue on x!

TAGLIST: @azullumi,@sunananaa, @milksnake-tea, @iceunhie, @nayukiyukihira, @jjzlisu, @raideneiari (if you want to be added to the tag list write a comment or send me an off anon ask! ^^)

PREVIOUS || MASTERLIST || NEXT

“Order for uh.” you abruptly stop your sentence. Furrowing your brow in confusion you look at the questionable name that is written on the paper cup that you’re currently holding in your hand. Your gaze drifts over to the barista behind you. “March..” you whisper through gritted teeth, trying to maintain a smile while pausing for a brief moment to study the face of the girl with the cotton candy-like hair. 

The short girl hums quietly, “What is it?” she tilts her head to the side, a milk-frothing pitcher in her right hand, almost empty. “And why are we whispering?” admittedly you’re not even sure yourself, after all, people come up with silly names all the time, so why are you refraining from saying this name out loud?

“Well, I'm whispering because I don't want the other customers to listen into our conversation, but, are you sure that you wrote the right name here?” you ask the girl behind you doubtfully before directing your view towards the letters that were written in cursive and were adorned by little stars and flowers drawn by none other than March. 

The '*•.¸♡𝓐𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮 ♡¸.•*' which she wrote in cursive (and if you may add, kind of crooked) made you raise your eyebrows as you held the cup in front of her face for her to see.

She always had a habit of drawing cute smiley faces or hearts onto the cups, reasoning it by saying that it’d sweeten the customers' day. Although you’re not sure if that’s really necessary, their day probably already gets sweetened enough from the amount of sugar and sweetener March puts into the drinks.

She huffs, feigning hurt and acting offended by your question “If you want to suspect someone, blame her!” March’s eyes drift over to the silver-haired girl who is currently sitting next to the trash can near the staff rooms, playing video games and thus blocking the way: Stelle. 

The girl in question quickly lifts her head and just smiles sheepishly as if not knowing what’s going on right now. “She’s the one who gave me the receipts and told me the names before you took over, I just added the condiments and started creating cute latte art!.” you sigh at that. Well, whoever gave Stelle their name will probably be able to recognize it sooner or later anyway. 

The worst case scenario that could probably happen is the customer putting their hands on the counter and starting to scream and yell at you to the point where their spit lands in your eyes. Urging to talk to your manager: Pompom. If the customer would see them the customer would probably start scolding you for bringing out the mascot instead of the manager, leaving the shop and giving you zero stars on Maps. (definitely not talking from any former experiences.) Yeah, hopefully, that won’t happen.

You let out a throaty cough before loudly shouting once again “Order for Aventurine!” you really wonder whose mom named their kid after a quartzite stone now — hell, if you let your guard down, the next person who you’d have to call up is someone named Ashleigh or Jonaslian. 

What’s up with women who are only maybe one or two decades older than, and their obsession with horrible baby names?

“Hellooo” the o of the greeting gets dragged out by the owner of the sing-song voice. “Earth to the cashier.” The next thing you know is a hand that is covered in a black leather glove,  waving at your face, moving in a repetitive up-and-down motion. The gesture makes you snap out of the haze which you were in, and slightly shake your head, before looking up at the customer and getting a good glance at them.  

In front of you stood possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen. Blond silky hair and was dressed in a crisp black waistcoat that was draped around his slim torso, wearing a turquoise button-up underneath it that was adorned with gold decorations around his collar. His tie that matched his waistcoat was adjusted perfectly so that it sat in the right place. Black leather gloves envelop his slender fingers. 

The last time you were enamored by someone was when you were 9 reaching 10, and seeing Asami Sato bumping into Mako with her motorcycle on TV for the first time made you fall head over heels in love with her. That woman had younger you in a chokehold.

You feel your body tensing and heating up slightly. Fuck, has it always been this warm here? Your eyes sway over to the air conditioner behind you. No, that can't possibly be it, you made sure that the A/C was on the highest level before opening the cafe. 

The blond in front of you raises his eyebrow and looks at you expectantly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes shift over your face as if studying your expression. There’s amusement that settles onto his face — smugness would be the best word to describe it.

 Shit, there was no way he found out that you were fawning over him.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer sweetheart.” he shoots you a small wink and you’re not sure whether to feel impressed or horrified at the fact that he was able to read you as easily as an open book where the most important words are already highlighted in a bold colour. 

So you remain silent — speechless, to be precise. There’s a familiar feeling bubbling up in your chest, one that makes you all giddy and nervous. How can someone whom you never met enarmour you so much? It’s weird, but it’s weirder that it feels all too familiar. Suspicion arises within you.

“Hmm?” Aventurine — or whatever his name may be, tilts his head to the side, a questioning and innocent expression manifesting on his face that it almost makes him look like a young boy who still has to grasp the concepts of the many fundamentals of the world.

“Spacing out already? Am I that handsome?” Yeah, keyword: almost.

It takes a second to compose yourself again before speaking up again. “Yeah.” Your eyes form into crescent moons as you give him a small faux smile (how March likes to call it: your customer service smile) before your face contorts into an expression of unpleasantness “No, in your dreams Mister. Also please hurry up, you’re holding up the line.” You point behind him and he angles his head backwards to see..no one?

“There’s no one there.” This time it’s him who looks unimpressed, a deadpan expression gracing over his features and you do have to admit that he looks kind of cute with that expression. Oh god, what were you thinking? “You know you’ll have to do better than try to tri-”

Before he can even finish his sentence you quickly cut him off. “With cash or with card?” Your customer service smile from before finds its way onto your face once more. “Miss, you’re so cruel! You didn’t even let me fini-” “I repeat. With cash or with card?” 

Your patience was running thin. Lucky for him he’s somewhat respectful and cute while bothering you and not going on your nerves. If he were some weirdo, you would’ve scurried away already. People like him (unfortunately) remind you that pretty privilege does exist. 

His gloved hand dives into the depths of the pockets of his slacks before pulling out a leather wallet and revealing a black card. Oh great, a rich guy. “With card.” he sighs dramatically. Do all rich people behave like this? “Sir, this is a café not an acting audition for some teenage romance drama.” You’re not sure what to think of this guy, on one hand, his attempts are cute on the other it’s kind of weird that he’s flirting with a cashier whom he met 5 minutes ago. “Just.” You hesitate before speaking up again. “Just type your PIN in here and you’re done.” He nods and continues to do so which the small sound the machine makes confirms. 

At that, you give him a small nod as a gesture of thankfulness, before attempting to kick him out again. “Great, thank you. Now please go and I wish you a good day.” 

“But how am I supposed to have a good day without yo-”

“You’ll live.” you wave him goodbye and that leaves him with no other choice but to step back and leave. 

Maybe you’re hallucinating and maybe you’re just imagining it but before he leaves he gives you a small smile. The soft and charming glow that emanates from his eyes resonates well with the dusking sun as if they were reflecting the last golden rays of sunshine before they were to be engulfed by the warm hues of the sky and later on painted black like the night. An inexplicable feeling rises in your chest as he bids you goodbye, wishing you a nice day.

“Oh he so has a massive crush on you.” you shudder upon hearing March’s voice. Her words ring in your ears like Christmas bells chiming during the holiday season. Loud and obnoxious. You try to drain the thoughts away but how can you when the source who started it all is right behind you? Continuously gushing about how that handsome stranger must have an enormous crush on you.

“The group chat has to know about this!” March enthusiastically squeals and quickly fishes her phone out of her pockets. Before you’re even able to realize what is bound to happen let alone prevent her from aggressively typing on her phone, she’s already sent the first message. 

At that you can only bury your face into the palms of your hand, face sinking into your hands in embarrassment. As much as you love March, it sometimes feels like she’s the oldest of the group and not Mr. Yang. Not in terms of matureness and wiseness, no more like in the sense of the kind of mom who has to share each and every one of her baby’s accomplishments online, but not as bad though, of course. Still.

“I hate you,” you complain, words muffled by the palms of your hands.

“I love you too.” she quips cheerfully, a smirk on her lips.

Safe to say March was in charge of cleaning and tidying up the café for the whole shift.

“Aww the handsome guy from yesterday isn’t here today.” March coos into your ear, a frown is displayed on her lips. She frowns, but you can see the hints of playfulness that linger in her expression. “Put on such a nice show yesterday only to chicken out. Booo, lameeee.” March rolls her eyes in amusement, giggling while doing so. 

Although you didn’t want to agree with what March had to say, she’s somewhat right. You full-heartedly believed that he’d visit again today after the move he pulled off yesterday or perhaps you wanted him to visit him again. 

You quickly shook your head at that thought, brushing the idea of someone paying you a visit at work off to humor you a bit. There was absolutely no way you wanted to see him again. 

“It’s early in the morning and you’re trying to shake the dandruff out of your hair already?” “Not funny Mar-” There was no fucking way.

If this wasn’t a deja vu, you don’t know either. It’s almost as if the interaction of yesterday was replaying right in front of your eyes and once again catching you off guard.

“You know it’s not polite to blatantly stare at people right?” he spoke with a chuckle as he observed your irritated face. “Frowning like that will make you gain wrinkles.” The twitching on your right eye doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he can only chuckle at that, seemingly amused by your morning misery. 

“What are you doing here.” you can only mutter a single question out, dumbfounded by him appearing in front of you once again. “Hm, am I not allowed to come by? I mean, everything’s quite affordable in here and this place isn’t far away from my workplace either sooo.” 

Well, you can’t judge him for that. “Then, what do you want?” with a sigh you pluck one of the sticky notes of the block of colorful sticky notes, ready to write his order and name down. “Someone’s in a bad mood.” he chirps. A blank stare is the only thing you provide him as an answer and at that, he can only chuckle, it’s obvious that he’s enjoying this. “An Iced Americano would be nice. Thanks.” 

“Mhmm, noted.” you quickly scribbled his order down onto the quadratic paper before shouting March’s name over your shoulder. “Can you come here to keep our dear customer company? I’ll prepare his drink in the meantime.” you shoot Aventurine a heavy side-eye before darting your gaze back to March. The girl only giggles in response before happily skipping over to the counter. 

“Aww, do you want to extra prepare my drink?” upon hearing his remark you turn around. Meeting a pair of pink eyes which were covered behind long blond lashes, scanning your figure from a close distance. 

Nervosity crawls at your skin as you feel yourself getting watched by him. It’s weird — screw that, he’s weird. 

“Close!” a giggle accompanies your words. “Actually, I just really wanna get away from you. Have fun with him March.” scoffing, you turn around again.

It didn’t take you long to prepare his order, filling a cup with ice cubes and pouring some shots of espresso over them was a piece of cake. “Here” You hand him his drink and he nods in contentment before handing you a few coins, a cheeky grin appears on his face and you can see the amusement glimmering in his pink eyes. “See you tomorrow” he chuckles and upon that March nudges your side, which in response you can only give her an exasperated groan. 

“Yep. Head over heels in love.” she quips as soon as Aventurine is out of sight, and you have to fight the urge to slam your forehead against the counter.

Your third encounter with Aventurine occurred on a fairly rainy day. With sluggish movements and wet clothes, soaked from head to toe he slumped over to the counter and grinning as soon as he saw you. 

“Hey.” it takes you a moment to process the situation and reluctantly you reply. “Hey.” Your eyes scan over his figure, his white dress shirt is completely translucent now and you can’t help but let your eyes drift to the tattoo on his neck, down to his collarbone which is visibly poking out, and his slim waist, ribs only covered by a thin layer of pale skin.   

Aventurine seems to catch on pretty quickly and wraps himself into his blazer, seemingly uncomfortable by the way you’re looking at him.

You quickly gather your words, and voice an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shamelessly stare, that was rude again, I’m so sor-” “It’s fine.” Aventurine interrupts, cutting your apology curt while huffing out a tired sigh. The exasperation that resides in his voice implies that he obviously doesn’t want to dwell on this topic any further.  

A meek nod is the only response you’re able to give. “Can I just get the same thing I’ve had last time? Thanks.” he pulls out his card, ready to pay for his order. 

“Really? An Iced Americano during this weather?” you let out a small chuckle with which you’re trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere that built up between the two of you. 

At the sound of your light laughter, Aventurine’s eyes flicker over your face. “You remember my order?” he asks dumbfounded.

“Well yeah, no one besides teenage girls order an Iced Americano.” you joke, the usual sarcasm back in your voice. It quenches his former uneasiness, your light-hearted words soothing him like a cool steam dripping into his parched heart.

The corners of his lips twitch and he can’t help but smile. “Oh, shut up.” His signature smirk graces his lips and upon catching sight of it you can’t help but also let out a fond smile. 

“Will.. a freshly black brewed coffee do?” you’re careful when asking him. Nervousness crawls at your skin in anticipation. 

“Black coffee?” he hums. “Yeah, that should work. Thanks.” the reassuring smile he gives you makes your tense shoulder drop in relief, easing the worry that previously swam in your stomach.

You disappear into the kitchen, searching for the container that stores the coffee beans to prepare his drink, in the meantime, Aventurine quickly types into his phone before erasing the words as fast as he wrote them.

The fresh scent of coffee beans engulfs your nose and you can’t help but smile. Freshly brewed coffee always reminds you of home; someone in whose arms you can bury yourself in, nudging your nose into their chest as they cage you with their arms, softly embracing you. The rattling of a coffee machine in the background rings in your ears, but the only thing you can focus on is a voice that softly caresses the shell of your ear. 

Domesticity washes over you — it’s all too familiar. 

Aventurine’s drink is prepared in no time and you set it on the counter which makes him look up from his phone, giving you a weak smile before wrapping his hand around the drink. It’s still hot to touch, the warmth spreading over his hand in an instant like wildfire, it’s nice — the feeling of warmth enveloping his cold hand is nice. 

“Well, I’ll get going now.” his announcement catches you off guard, and impulsively you reach out to tug on his sleeve to prevent him from leaving. The action leaves both you and Aventurine surprised. Curious, the blond raises an eyebrow and grins (oh how much you want to wipe that stupid grin off his face), expectantly awaiting your next move.

“Sorry.” you cough apologetically before quickly letting go of his semi-dried sleeve. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out again when it’s still raining. If I were you I’d just wait until the rain stops.” Upon hearing your sincere suggestion, Aventurine’s grin falters and instead slowly molds into a fond smile that makes you inexplicably warm.  

“Aww, don’t tell me you're worried that I might catch a cold?” You counter his playful remark with one of your own. “Well, yeah. Who else is supposed to give me a generous tip?” At that Aventurine can only laugh and the smile you’ve been trying to hold back escapes. 

“Touché.”

From there on visits from Aventurine became frequent, always coming during your shift or during your break to chatter with you about mindless topics. You got used to his visits, and even when you gave off the impression of showing no interest in his ramblings, you always lent him an ear, carefully listening to what he had to say about his pets or his grumpy friend. 

(He told you that the both of you resemble each other in some way, aloof on the outside but caring on the inside. In response, you shot him a big side eye, cause what does he mean by aloof?)

The small conversations exchanged between the two of you, ranged between topics of the latest spots that have just opened, to operas and musicals and eventually work. 

His work to be specific.

Curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t help but ask: “Aventurine.” upon hearing his name sliding off your tongue, he hums in acknowledgment. “What is it?” you scan his attire, the material of his black blazer is slightly crumpled and the turquoise button-up he’s wearing underneath seems to be the same one as the one when you first met him.

“What the hell do you even work as? I mean what kind of job requires you to wear a new suit every day?” befuddlement manifests on your face. “Ah, well.” Aventurine hesitates for a moment, mouth slightly agape before closing it once again as if searching for the right words to say. “I’ve told you that I work here right down the street right? I’m a teaching assistant at St. Freya University for my friend.” he gives you a small and coy smile. 

“Oh, that prestigious university for rich kids?” at that Aventurine slightly raises his eyebrows as if surprised by your remark before quietly laughing. “Mhm, I suppose you could say so.” “I should’ve known that you taught there, I bet you also went there for university.” It’s only a joking remark you made upon impulse but the amusement on Aventurine’s face slightly dissipates, replaced with a sheepish expression.  

“I didn’t go to university.”

“What?”

“What?”

“What do you mean you didn’t go to university? I mean as teaching a-” “I-i started working from a very early age on and not as a teaching assistant it’s only a job for me to help my friend with.” he quickly corrects himself. “Oh.” “Yeah.” he hums, looking away. 

The silence is unbearable. It’s weird and unusual for you to not hear Aventurine chatter into your ear. “So uhm.. what do you teach or help with?” the embarrassment quickly rises to your cheeks and you turn your head downwards to avoid any eye contact. God, why’s initiating a conversation so hard and always fucking awkward.

“Interested in joining? Want me to sign you up?” you’re relieved upon hearing Aventurine immediately responding, lifting your head only to be met with soft pink eyes that are already earnestly admiring you. 

Your deadpan expression tells him more than enough and he chuckles more to himself than to you. “Well, my friend, he has high expectations for his students. To some people, he might appear strict, but really, it’s for their own well-being — not his. He cares about his students a lot. Sharing his knowledge about certain topics and seeing the potential in all of them, for them to pick the information up and be able to use it. So the things he does in his classes differ, from practical to theoretical classes and I’m just there to assist with my knowledge.” the small smile that quirks at his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Okay, okay, well enough about me, what about you? Any plans for the weekend?” Aventurine smoothly changes the topic. 

Upon being asked what your plans are your eyes immediately light up with excitement. “I’ve been meaning to visit the fair for a while now. Trying out the new rides and stuff you know?” Aventurine momentarily pauses. “Ah, I’ve actually never been to a fair.” his admission comes over as surprising to you. 

“Wait what? You’ve never been to a fair? You’re lying!” 

“I’m not! Or maybe I am.” he laughs. “Well, I might have gone to some but I can’t recall anything like that. Perhaps I was too short, too young, or too much of a pussy to try out one of the rides.” 

Before you can even think of how to respond to that, you blurt out a: “Go with me then!” You’re not even sure how you had the courage to ask that, especially to someone whom you’ve only met a month or hell a few weeks ago, you’re even less sure where that question even came from.

From what you can read off Aventurine’s face, he seems to be as equally surprised as you, mouth slightly agape and lips forming a smile as he stares at you with expectant eyes. 

“Really?” Disbelief settles onto his face.

“Thinking about it now, nope.” The light in Aventurine’s eyes immediately dies down, suddenly looking like a kicked puppy who didn’t get any belly rubs. It somehow makes you feel bad — somehow you sympathize with him. “..Fine.” you mumble. You can’t believe yourself. “Though there’s one condition: You’ll have to pay for everything.”

“Sure, no problem.” Aventurine agrees without any hesitation and that makes you skittish. “I was joking!” He gives you a boyish grin “Well, I know but it’s not like it’s a big deal either. Also, can this be considered a date?” he props his elbow up and places his cheek onto his balled fist, smirking while doing so.

“Aventurine,” you say in a stern voice. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

Your irritated eyes meet his fond ones. “I’m glad.” he expresses and you’re caught off guard by his sincere tone. There’s no teasing or playfulness behind it, just pure gratefulness. 

“Is it alright if I have your number? It’s easier to reach you then.” the smirk plastered on his face is enough to tell you what the actual intention behind his words is. 

“Admit it. You just want my number, don’t you?” you deadpan him.

“Hmm, who knows?” the grin on his face only grew wider, amused by the fact that you caught on so quickly.

Swiftly you fish out your phone from your pockets, unlocking it before showing him your phone number, and before you can even ask how he’s saved your number; which contact name he typed in for you, he pulls his phone away. Smiling in triumph upon seeing your irritated face.

He gets up from the chair he’s been sitting on for the past few minutes. “Well, your break is about to end soon, so I’ll take my leave.” your eyes follow him as he checks if he’s got everything. “See you tomorrow then:” he says in a playful tone before leaving. 

Yeah, you’re going to meet your demise, you just know it.

END NOTE: this is just idk man we're gonna progress more in the future chaps okay 😔

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[koiiiji]

being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after

pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim

tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel

author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️

author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻

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⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you

⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new

⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers

⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…

⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground

⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you

⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel

⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school

⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you

⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can

⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone

⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…

⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet

⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this

⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings

⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city

⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.

⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals

⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.

⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later

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[bones4thecats]

➸ Your Wedding Day; Idia Shroud × S/O

Character: Idia Shroud A/N: This was something that I've wanted to write for quite a while, so I'm happy I finally got my Idia-wedding ideas out and posted for you guys to see. Hope you fellow Idia simps enjoy! Disclaimer(s): Reader's dress, Idia's suit, and song to listen too

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Idia Shroud ════════════════════════════╝

🎮 We all know this guy enjoys his privacy, and that includes privacy with you (of course it does, why wouldn't it?)

🎮 You happily handed him a list of some ideas for your wedding, to which he just sighed and set his headphones down to read over. Ever since College ended, he had been working more and more with S.T.Y.X., so whenever he got some free time, he'd either play games or rest with you

🎮 More than not, he would just sleep with you right beside him. The guy's tried, give him a break

🎮 But, when he proposed, he did not expect such a long list of things you guys needed to decide on for your wedding. He figured that you'd have it all laid out and not worry about it like a character in a show/movie

🎮 As he read the list over, he put tiny skulls by whatever he found that he liked the idea of. Cost wasn't a big deal, but he knew that you wanted a smaller wedding when you guys spent your second-year anniversary together

🎮 He agreed with the idea, but never gave it a second thought. Rookie mistake.

🎮 Idia handed you back the list and you then put check-marks besides the ones you agreed with him on. Your big-day was in only 9 weeks, so getting everything else laid out was something you guys needed to get done immediately

🎮 Snapping his headphones back on as you made call after call and message after message, Idia let his mind wander onto what he dreamt your wedding would look like. From flowers to you in your dress, it didn't matter. It was all there

🎮 When your wedding finally came, your soon-to-be-husband was having a nervous breakdown. Though, why wouldn't he be? He was an introvert having to go up there in front of people and confess his love to you

🎮 While yes, it was all people both you and him knew extremely well, it was still a lot of people!

🎮 His father walked up behind him and smiled, his blue-flame hair matching his son's as he put the brooch of a gem-eyed skull on his suit

"You look so awesome, big brother!" Ortho said from behind their father.

"Thanks, O'. How's Y/N doing?" He asked.

"She's doing great! She looks beyond amazing in her dress! You're gonna be a big strawberry when you see her go down the isle."

🎮 Idia smiled and looked at himself in the mirror, the long flame hair that he always kept loose without any care for, all neatly put together in a brushed-up style with a bow keeping it behind his shoulders. This was what you wanted, so it was what you were going to get

"Boys! Come on! Wedding's about to start!" Mrs. Shroud said from the doorway, causing all three Shroud boy's hair to erupt before settling again. Thankfully it didn't burn anything...

"We're on out way, dear!" Mr. Shroud answered.

🎮 Mr. Shroud looked back at his sons and smiled, planting his new face-only helmet back on his head, his hair sticking out, as it was shorter, but brighter in terms of fire-light

"Let's head out to see your new chapter, Idia."

══✿══╡

🎮 Idia stood there before you, hair all nice, while you stood before him, your long white dress standing out while your veil was draped in front of your face, much to your future husband's dismay. It was hard to find comfort in your eyes without straining his eyes to look beyond the thin fabric

"Now, let's get these vows out, shall we?" The Minister said.

🎮 You smiled and looked at Idia, motioning for him to start. He just took a deep breath, taking a simple glance at his mother, whom was standing behind you as one of her bridesmaids, to which she nodded

🎮 Idia looked deep in your eyes and spoke from his heart. Like I said, no planning involved for this poor boy

"Y/N. You were like the boss that I couldn't defeat. I feared everyone in College, but you just kept coming back and I couldn't seem to put up a firewall to keep you away from me. Every time I heard you were somewhere, I felt the urge to go there just to see your face and hear your laughter. I was at your mercy, and your mercy alone. Ever since the first date we had years ago, I just wanted... no... I needed you to always be by my side. I love you, and I hope you feel the same in your heart."

🎮 You smiled and raised your hand under your veil to wipe a stray tear from your face as you then looked into his eyes and spoke your own vows

"Idia, you were everything I could've asked for. That may sound weird, but it's the truth. When I first met you, I thought you'd be one of the most difficult people to deal with, but I could never have been more wrong. You were charming in your own way, and you still are, without even trying! The way you link in technology in when you speak, the way you furrow your eyebrows when speaking, to the way your eyes shimmer when you find like or do something successfully, it's all enchanting to me. And I never want to let that enchantment go. And I never plan on it. I love you so much, Idia, forever and always."

🎮 He smiled at you as the Minister called for the rings, making Ortho come up and hand you both your wedding wings. Yours to Idia's being black with dark-blue colored edges, while Idia's to you was also black-ringed with a shining blue, heart-shaped gemstone on the top

🎮 You looked into his eyes once more as you placed the jewelry on his ring-finger while he did the exact same afterwards. All of his anxiety was now gone, nobody else was there besides you and him in his mind. You two were the only things that mattered

"You may kiss the bride." The Minister announced, stepping back for you both.

🎮 Idia lifted your veil before grabbing your waist and holding one side of your cheek with his hand and laying his forehead on yours, slowly moving to close the gap between your lips

🎮 Everyone cheered as you left one another's kiss and smiled, hugging one another as he whispered into your ear before setting off for the after-party with the people who attended your day

"I love you so damn much, Y/N."

[rue-dixon]

Is Chilchuck's wife blonde? Analysis:

I've noticed a lot of the fandom doubts what Chilchuck's wife looks like and still thinks she's a blonde woman. Which is understandable, since it seems to be something Kui really likes to point out. But my theory is it's intentional, and more important than we think.

As I said, be clearly has a type for blonde woman. And Kui makes a point of this by continuing point it out in the World Guide side book. But why? It hardly seems relevant, after all it's only mentioned once in the manga during chapter 58.

Many fans assumed the first woman that succubus took the form of was his wife. Which is understandable. But that gets quickly thrown out the window when the next serval succubus that attack him all look completely different. But according to Marcille, they're all blonde. And she even asks if that was because of his wife. Which is why many people probably think she's blonde.

But Chilchuck gets upset when she asks. Now at first you assume it's just Chilchuck being embarrassed as always. But at this point he's talked about his family multiple times calmly. Especially after having such a serious talk about his wife just a few chapters earlier, why would he react so strongly again now?

Now let's put that aside for a second. Why does the fandom believe the woman with short black hair is his wife? Well simply because she shares multiple features with his daughters, who we actually do see and confirmed to be his daughters.

His oldest, Meijack, shares her more unique eye shape. And his middle, Flertom, her hair. They even have the same small piece of stray hair on the top of their heads. So it's highly unlikely this is a coincidence.

And according to this official colored sketch, neither of his children are blonde. So it's safe to assume his wife is in fact, not blonde. So then why is it talked about so much?

Well actually I think his "fetish" to say, along with the succubus is what drove his wife to leave him.

So before they encounter the succubus, Chilchuck freaks out when he realizes what attacks them. Which isn't out of character for him, but he's very specific with what he said. It's clear he really, REALLY doesn't like the succubus. Even Marcille comments about how it seems he's seen one before.

Now we do know due to a side comic that a party tried to feed him to a succubi group. Which could explain why he's so scared, but he never actually sees any of them. He runs away before they even find them. (I'd provide evidence but I've reached my limit on photos and I don't feel like making multiple posts lol.)

So why does he know so much about how they work then?

Here's my theory:

He actually DID run into a group of succubus a long time ago with another party. The same party that actually knew and ended up meeting his wife. Blonde woman like we saw attacked him, and the party already knowing about his wife assumed; oh! That must be what if wife looks like of course! Eventually down the road the party meet her. Only to be surprised that she looked absolutely nothing like his fantasy they saw. So of course through drunken fun, the party brings this up. More to make fun of him if anything. I'd assume him and his wife were already having problems up to this point. Maybe she had doubts of him being disloyal since he was always away. Or maybe doubts that he didn't loved her anymore, or even no longer found her attractive or desirable still. So hearing that a creature that supposedly transformed into the thing your heart wants the most, and it's the complete opposite of her confirmed whatever insecurity she had in her mind. That maybe the woman they turned into was even his mistress herself?! Knowing Chilchuck, he probably didn't try to comfort her or at least did it very well. Or maybe not even try to talk about it after at all and instead just tried to blow it off. Which only made things worse. And that pushed her to finally leave. Her final straw possibly.

However this is purely speculation of course. A theory based on the extremely limited knowledge we have of that night and their marriage in general.

[hoseoksluna]

SMOKE, v. | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x smoke!oc (ft. jungkook & taehyung)

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 8.2k

summary: everything that hurt has stopped.  

pinterest board: smoke / playlist: moon kitty's playlist / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: yoongi is perfect, mutual masturbation, lots of lustful thoughts of sex and oral, yoongi's pov—literally the biggest warning, sex toys, desperation, praise kink, neediness, mentions of punishment & an actual punishment, too.

note: this might be the best chapter in the series and unfortunately, it's the last chapter i post before my hiatus. thanks to my bestest friend in the world, @tkslovechild, this series is finally moving forward somewhere and it's not a source of my depression anymore. i hope you all enjoy this chapter, my babies. see you after my hiatus. i will miss you all, terribly. luna loves you forever.

side note: make sure to listen to oc's playlist. it's so good.

The lights must be blaring, in the bizarre simplicity of our current happenstance, and the toys for adults must be tinged with a variety of colors, but my eyes are moored on the prismatic delicacy of her utter engrossment. 

Pupils wide and swallowing each detail of the display of the instruments of pleasure, my cock is so tight in my pants that I struggle for air, my fists clenched by my sides, ever so ready to snatch the product she points at just so I could become the means to make that joy explode further in her. She teased me in the car with her naughty songs, with her coy glances at me to suss out whether I caught onto the meaning—when in reality I tried my fucking hardest not to give in to my imagination and crash my car. Her body was curled so divinely, facing me, and my hands gripped the steering wheel until the leather squeaked. We laughed about it, she blamed me for farting, and I longed to kiss her until she would shut up. 

And I should have—because now she’s teasing me with her utmost fascination with a certain clit sucker. 

Whatever color it is. 

It was her idea to head inside this store. We drove around through the moonlit streets of Seoul for an hour, listening to her playlist reverberating throughout the vehicle. With the windows pulled down, the miscellaneous paraphernalia of her soul—the erotism of persona, the melancholia of her heart and the despondency caused from her pain—rumbling out of them, letting everyone see and hear the echo of her newly bloomed enthusiasm and the sprightliness of her being. She was alive at night, alive with me, liking the principle of me learning about her through this artful form. And I liked her liking that. 

The songs spoke what our mouths couldn’t, communicating for us, because we acted as though my own pain didn’t break us apart. In the vivacity of the car drive, in the lapis lazuli of our own exclusive, atmospheric globe, I didn’t tell her off for being bare for me the previous morning. No, I took off her night dress and drank from the sweet nectar of her bosom, right there on the ivory of her plush couch until she drenched it so well that she blushed. 

In fact, it’s the only thing I voiced out in terms of the conflict. 

Perhaps it was due to the influence of her songs, laced with the heady aroma of her energy—fuck, if I know, but I didn’t regret my words. 

Not this time. 

And her glimmering cheeks flushed like they did in my imagination, tightening my cock in the easy way that she was only capable of doing. I seized the tension between us—and I might as well clasped my hand over her thighs, which were still turned to me, with how her breath hitched in her throat in reaction to my brazenness. 

It was the reason why she wrapped her fingers around my wrist when we walked by that sex shop en route to the restaurant I chose, stopping me dead in my tracks. She held our sexuality close to her chest, not adding to it in the car, but unraveling it there, in the middle of the street, with strangers passing by. Gave me a look only a moon kitty like her could, mischievous yet innocent, and tilted her head in the direction of the store. And I knew, deep in my heart, that it was the little creature inside her that dragged me in—no longer neglected, but attuned to my attention, to my care and the respect I wafted towards her. 

There were no two sides to her, and on no account did we stand on the opposite sides of the chessboard with our agonies, despite the fact all I could see was the monochrome of its pattern once I regarded her enthrallment. 

Somehow, we are unified at this very moment,  and I crave to buy her that clit sucker. 

“Choose a color,” I rasp, and my cock agrees with me, twitching at the idea of her picking a color of her liking, one that can match her nails or perhaps the dark wine of her hair. One that bewitched me so profusely once I observed it under that soft white light of the interior of my car, its sleekness dipping into my heart that began to thunder for her. One that absolutely pales in comparison as I look at it now, the red dull and bleak, my sight unfolding in colors. My craving expands when her eyes widen at my seemingly brainsick idea, digging into mine while her tightened lips quiver in a smile. I smirk, enjoying her coy reaction, and I take this teasing into another dimension, austerely because I want to—and because I can, because we can. “Maybe the red one to match your hair.” 

Her gasp melts into a delicate laughter that tickles my insides and, mindlessly, she runs her elongated fingers through the ends of her hair at her tummy. Taps her long, cross-embellished nail, on another package beside it. “This one has the thingy that vibrates inside you.” 

It’s the same rose toy, but with a silicone attachment with a bulbous end. I’m not sure how those violent vibrations inside her walls can feel pleasurable for her, but the way she gazes at it—with a smirk akin to mine and lowered long lashes that languidly beat against the tops of her cheeks—propels me to seek my answer. 

I take it in my hands, inspecting it further. And I notice that the petals hide a small tongue in their center, simulating an oral sex for her lonesome times. 

Heat clings to my skin as I grow feverish. I am leaving for a tour in a few weeks. Who will be there to eat her sweet little pussy? 

The apples of her cheeks blaze in pinkness, regarding me as she is, and I lick my lips. “This one licks your clit. Do you think it’ll do a better job than me?” 

The rose tint deepens at my teasing words and all I can think about is how she’s gonna press those petals deeper and deeper into her folds, digging her long nails into the silicon surface just like she dug her nails into my scalp. And suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. 

I fast forward. 

“Do you want this thing or the bullet?” I ask her, impatient, but for what—I don’t know. What I do know is that I can’t stay in this place any longer with my imagination bursting forth and clouding everything negative I ever felt towards this girl. And while the newness crests joy and contentment in me, I need to be distracted from the lust that has become so natural between us. Or else, I bend her over in this aisle, rip the package open and use it on her while I fuck her dumb. 

I might become unhinged. Just for her, just for the flush blanketing her features. Just so I have her positive feelings in my hands. 

She’s too overwhelmed to respond, redder than her hair and it’s endearing. Kitty cups her face and turns around, letting me see her back, and I do the thing I unknowingly wanted to do the moment I inched closer to her. 

I brush my hand down her noble spine, clothed in the sheer fabric of her tight top that exposes her camisole underneath to me. I hook my fingers on the belt loop of her baggy jeans and bring her back to me. Her gasp is so tender and so unlike her when she collides into me, her fists bunched on the top of my chest, her hair a mess—tangled on her forehead and eyelashes and I’m awestruck. 

By her beauty, by the way there’s no end to her. And I want to keep acknowledging myself with the inexhaustible wholeness of her until I’m gray and stooped in the old age of my affection for her. 

No gold, no golden power staining my hands. She’s silver and I am desperate for that moonlit glory to mist my veins. Privately, for me and her. A thing only we know of. 

No Sun-mi, no Jungkook. 

Pinching the strands of hair away from her face, she seems to be swimming in a thought I’m very curious about. Even more so, when she engages her hands and hangs them over my neck. Calmness relaxes the muscles of my stomach and I take a detailed note of that. 

No anxiousness, no winged demons beneath. 

This is right. This is how it should’ve been from the start. Playfulness, a little bit of lust, and a whole lot of exuberance. Nothing else, at least not this early on. 

And even though I asked her a million naughty questions that I’d love for her to sophistically answer for me, something whispers in my gut that I should share my thoughts with her. And without a hint of fear, I do. 

“This is good, isn’t it?” I murmur, tipping my chin, my body leading me to lean my forehead against hers and I do—I do, I do. Kitty sighs, oddly validating me, and I continue. “I mean I wasn’t planning on buying you a fucking clit sucker tonight, but I’m glad we’re here.” 

She laughs and I lift my head, needing to see her expression of delight. And atypically, my mouth rounds in the same grin and the same laughter spills out of me. 

One that breaks into an indecent groan when she finally graces me with her response. 

“You know, they have rose toys for men as well. So if I’m getting one, you’re buying one, too.” 

It’s like she palmed me over my jeans with her words, but I disagree with a fraction of it. 

“Wrong. I’m getting you one.” 

She appears to be stunned by my willfulness to not let her spend a dime when she’s with me, her mouth parted and her head cocking back just once. And when she closes her pretty, half-glossy mouth, curls the pillows under her teeth and drops her eyes, her palms sliding down my chest, she accepts it. 

And I feel like a man, not a skeleton of who I used to be. 

“You’ll be getting two, then.” 

I chuckle. Draw near to her ear, sinking under the waterfall of her hair, and I hear her breathing harden. “I can get three if you can’t decide,” I flirt, pulling back more to edge her than to stuff my hand with the other toy that includes the bullet, holding it up for her. Her pools sparkle as she looks at them before perching up at mine, melting.

I bite my lip, feral; and I don’t wait for her to answer once I stack them up in one hand, pivoting on my feet. 

“Wait.” 

She steals the box with the bullet and puts it back to its original place. Replaces it with a male version of it, her smile cheerful and full of mischief. I take something else that I cover from her sight, which glides upon the display of all kinds of different cock rings and whatnot. 

Little does she know what I intend to surprise her with as soon as she allows me back into her girlish lust. 

My heart hammers in my chest in tandem with my cock as I pay for it. And I hope that she gets the memo. 

That she’s not just a fling—and certainly not just a friend. 

“Do you think your toy will pass through security?” 

Had I not swallowed my noodles, I would’ve spat them out at her black little outfit. Kitty giggles at my reaction—at the frozen tension in my face as I gaze up at her from my bowl, the soup dripping from my chin. Our movements are simultaneous—hands letting go of our chopstick, but while mine reach for a napkin, hers rummage in the white plastic bag I set down on the empty chair beside me. 

The table is too narrow, and it’s a blessing and a curse. 

Her vanilla perfume hits my nostrils and I’m convinced it’s what the moon must smell like. The box of the male toy is overly big for her hands and her hair shields her from me as she discreetly reads the description and the instructions. I widen my legs under the table, my bloodstream focusing on only one body part of mine, and I wonder if that’s what she was truly thinking of while she ate her own bowl of noodles. 

Fucking myself with a rose fleshlight. Away from her; across the sea. 

Jungkook must’ve told her about our tour. I wasn’t going to mention it tonight because I didn’t want to ruin the night with the sombreness of my work. As much as I looked forward to seeing our Army from that side of the globe, I wasn’t happy with the decision installed upon us—wasn’t happy that our management didn’t ask us about our feelings, whether we’re ready for it or not. It was more of a—you have a job now, do it well, cameras will be rolling—and that was the end of it. Namjoon sensed my dissatisfaction, slouching in his chair in front of me, with his jaw propped between his fingers and his eyes piercing through me but he, too, couldn’t say a thing. 

None of us could. 

It cast me to a deeper sea of my anguish that I didn’t want to stream into my ordinary life with Kitty. I was going to tell her as soon as my fresh emotions would’ve settled and we would’ve settled to the same extent, though having the toy be in the center of it changes everything now. 

It’ll be different. 

I won’t be a puppet, channeling my humanness through my love for our beloved Army. On the contrary, I will be a dancing fool, knowing I have someone waiting for me back in Seoul while being the epitome of my deepest longings and sentiments overseas. My heart, the toy and the means of our communication. 

I wasn’t going to bring the toy with me because if the members were ever to find out, I wouldn’t live it down. But if it makes that sparkle in her irises last a little longer, I shall put extra care into hiding it at the bottom of my suitcase. 

“You want me to take it?” I ask, softly, leaning back in my chair, one hand on the table, the other across my thigh. Her smile curves as she glimpses up at me, and I still can’t believe she pulled out an actual sex toy in a restaurant filled with hungry drunken people. If anyone recognizes me, I’m fucked. Majestically, devastatingly fucked if they take a picture, the said picture gets to our management and I have to write an apology letter on Weverse afterward. 

I’m sorry for having a personal life with a beautiful girl who’s unlike any shallow pretty faces I’ve come across. I will be more mindful of my actions in the future.

Fuck that. 

She can take it out of the packaging and see if it needs to be charged before we can use it if she so much as wishes so. 

We.

Yes, that’s right.

I’m not the same person I was yesterday, and something tells me that I have her to thank for that. 

“Well, I’m sure the Christmas spirit will get to you and you’ll be lonely. Also, let’s not forget it’ll be cuffing season most of all.” 

It’s funny she says that, considering what I secretly bought for her. Hysterical, in fact. Hilarious. 

It’s hidden in the pocket of my jacket, so even though she followed her curiosity into the bag, she still doesn’t know about the surprise that awaits her. I took it out when I let her walk in front of me, discreetly. It brought me more joy than I thought I was ever capable of bearing. 

Still, I wonder how much more of it I can be filled with. And I want to tempt it—brim with it. I reckon she’s the safest person to take that risk with, but the quiet, unknown voice in me adds that it’s not a risk at all. 

Quite the opposite. 

And the idea of cuffing her, both literally and figuratively, draws me closer to that cliff of brisk water of that ultimate joy and I want to get soaked. I want to drink. 

I want to be cleansed by it. 

“Would you like to be cuffed by me, little one?” 

It was automatic, the pet name streaming out of my mouth like that mini waterfall I seem to be dazed by. The question, too. And I’m not afraid, not even a hint of dread crawls upon me, and I find myself hoping that it stays. That everything I do and say from now on is of that automatic matter, unabashed, not blocked, not held back. 

I hope to be a real person with her. Without any ghosts, any demons. Any pain to scar her with. 

The little one doesn’t smile this time, shrinks in her flummox, but still I don’t fear, I don’t wish to grasp my words and put them back in my throat. Taking little steps means grazing your knees and I’m here to place band aids on her bleeding spots. 

I’m here for her. 

And my belief is supported by my actions this whole evening. 

The person I was yesterday is almost unrecognizable to me and I pray, I pray and I will pray once this night is over that it shall remain so. 

“I’m not sure what kind of question you’re asking me right now,” she murmurs, leaning her elbows on the table, drawing close to me like I’m drawing close to her, and it’s good enough. I don’t ask for anything else from her. 

“It’s the one you think it is,” I rasp, making her eyes widen slightly, and I have to chuckle. She’s so damn adorable, standing outside of her comfort zone, and my own eye is watchful over her, over her little steps, band aids ready in my hands. 

At the sound of my soft laughter, she drops her gaze, running her tongue over the inside flesh of her cheek—and there it is. That kind heat rushing through her. I want her to be smoldered by it. 

I want a lot of things when it comes to her, a phenomenon that forces me ponder if there ever will be an end to it. It’s better than feeling dissatisfaction regarding someone, digging a hand deep in them, expecting gold, yet plucking out stones that only cut your skin eventually. The more you dig, the bigger the wound. But I don’t have to do that in her. The little one, the moon kitty herself, gives it over, willingly. All of her silver moon dust, glory, and the ashes from her firelight. 

Maybe that’s how it should be. 

Not expecting, not reaching, but being given, being provided. 

Her eyelids lift and descend over the package in her hands before they root upon mine. And her response to my words keeps me company all the way to America. 

“Show me how well you can use this and I just might be.” 

Dead or alive, I blur between the lines. Jet lagged or just sick with love, it is a conjoined affair in me like the two halves of my heart. 

I miss her, even though I haven’t been able to unattach myself from my phone, the only tangible connection between us—the back and forth exchange of words, emojis and stickers that I had never used in my life but began to spam our conversations with once she coyly hid behind them. I miss her, even though I spent nearly every day with her until I boarded my flight. 

In Jungkook’s hotel room, the members share a meal together while I stay back, settled comfortably on the beige couch by the floor-length windows as the morning sun shimmers its rays across the walls. I’m sporting a hard-on, which I camouflage with a rough-textured pillow across my lap, due to the contents of our text messages. Hobi is slurping his ramen next to me, elbows propped on his elbows, posture slouched, oblivious to the fact that the girl of his platonic dreams is horny and challenging me to join her in her evening self-care. 

Yes, Hobi has developed a crush on the moon kitty and I was the first one to know. 

During the last of our leisure time in November before the tour, Hobi called me up and asked me to join him on his last drinking adventure before our work duties swallowed us. He lured me into his apartment with the two bottles of Hennessy that he had bought for the occasion and we talked work, we talked our management and we talked girls. 

He admitted to me how guilty he felt for triggering such unpleasant memories in Kitty’s mind after I shared with him the reason why I picked her up into my arms and walked away from him. I was purposefully vague in my speech, not wanting to disclose such privacy without her present, without her knowing especially, and Hobi respected that. Told me he thought about her since that day, remembering only the negative, tethered wisps that seemed to curl tightly in his gut. And I, drunk out of my mind, doting and devoted, shared with him that I wanted her. 

Made sure to emphasize in my admission that she was mine. 

It was the bravest thing I ever had done. 

Hobi understood, explained to me that how he regarded her was strictly friendly. Thought that she carried a certain elegance of beauty that was unprecedented in today’s culture, however, with which I enthusiastically agreed. Then he clutched my shoulder, the wounded one, with extra tenderness, looked me carefully in the eye, and gave me a groundbreaking word of advice that shook through my world. 

Don’t treat her like you treated Sun-mi. 

I didn’t grasp the meaning until we opened the second bottle and Hobi, seeing my puzzlement, fleshed out his wisdom. 

Don’t cling, don’t make her the air you breathe. Just live your life by her side and breathe your own air. You worked too hard to get here to backtrack. 

And I tried, within the little time we had together. 

We didn’t fuck, we didn’t devour each other’s bodies. We conversed, I learned her favorite color, the name of her favorite band, the dishes she liked—and the common ins and outs of her life. White wasn’t the only color of her soul, she liked red; that deep, dark tint one would only witness alive in the depth of the night. She liked the color of the stop lights, of the tail lights; she liked the way it bathed my face in gentle, undangerous fire whenever we would get stuck in traffic on our car drives—and apparently she liked my patience. 

Chase Atlantic was her favorite band. 

Tteokbokki her favorite dish. 

And I was her favorite person. A fact I already knew by the way she would kiss me at those favorite stop lights of hers. 

That was all we did. Kiss and converse. And I didn’t cling to her, didn’t make her the air I breathed. On the contrary, following Hobi’s wisdom, I fell for her in the purest of ways, which I somehow made possible in this befouled world. 

And, perhaps, she did, too. A deduction of mine because she began to smoke in front of me at some point. 

She was afraid I wouldn’t like it, a sensitive wound that she let me in on—a formless, unclear one that kept me wide awake at night, scrambling my brain to try and figure out what the fucker before me did to her. That was, until she told me, upon our last car drive during that last week we’d have with each other, that the said wound was caused by my own fault. 

I told her off for being bare for me at the beginning of the trajectory of our closeness and I sowed a poisonous plant of a hang-up in her. A block in her brain that pressured her to hide the “questionable” parts of her from me. 

But there weren’t any questionable parts of her—and I told her, after I pulled out my own pack, lit up one, grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her until her lungs were depleted of air. 

It was the bloom of our lust, particularly the vocal, intense apology I strung into her lips, kissing them deeper and deeper until they swelled. It was the beginning of our naughty text messages—right on the cusp of my absence, hooking onto my yearning and expanding it to heavenly dimensions. 

Yes, heavenly. Our closeness represented heaven as we had forgotten about our toys and remembered them during our hypersexual conversations. Face to face, we focused on the stimulation of our connected intellect, our intertwined characters; phone to phone, our bodies sought compensation.

And right now, upon the first morning here in the US, the moon kitty is persuading me into unpacking my suitcase and using the rose toy in my room. 

She’s straining, working so hard, sending me her little stickers of adorable, pleading animals, incognizant to the fact that I don’t need to be that much impelled to do it. She’s staying up for me, needy in bed—I made my decision the second she mentioned it. 

I merely delight in her saying please. 

I get off on it; it makes my cock rock hard and the concept of the members being around and unaware of what she’s doing to me—especially Jungkook, who’s stimming and happy to be eating after a restless night—heightens my pleasure, lengthening towards the heavens. 

If only I could take her there. With my tongue. Like I did the first time, holding her body down so she wouldn’t rise higher without me. 

pleaseeeeee, i’m gonna start without you if you dont get up rn 

I smile at the text message and I imagine her writhing in her bed, her bedsheets crumpled and tousled around her, her fingers tracing the curved petals of her rose toy—itching, impatient, needy; waiting for me. 

My cock grows. And I, too, meet my impatience. 

Just a second. Be good, I respond back to her, locking my phone and immersing myself in reality. 

The boys are uncharacteristically quiet, each one indulging in an activity of their own. Jungkook is huffing, his cheeks full and around, staring down his plate of food as if it was about to grow its own legs and walk away from him. Jimin is watching him with an endeared smile that is split by a secrecy all of us are aware of. Lopsided, its glow is shunned out by the tender, doleful layer of wetness in his eyes. And I know that his tummy will get full by watching him eat and that it will be his only source of fulfilling food for today. 

I clench my fists. 

Hobi beside me has finished his own breakfast and has entered his food coma, staring into nothing at the ceiling as he rests his neck against the backrest of the couch. Taehyung is looking at me in a way that brings my eyes back to him for a double take. With a smirk and a glint in the gentleness of his eyes, he flicks his browns at his own phone and nods his head, telling me something in the silent language that I don’t want him to. 

He noticed something he shouldn’t have. 

The words are flung out of me long before I comprehend what I’m saying, up and ready on my feet, covering my erection with the thick hem of my oversized shirt. 

“I’m gonna head to mine for a bit and take a shower,” I announce, making heads lift in my direction, and considering my situation, I cower in shyness, keeping my back to them as I walk towards the front door. 

“The stylist is coming at one pm and we have a soundcheck at three thirty,” Namjoon informs, and I pivot to look at him, at all six of them while my hand remains on the doorknob. 

Jungkook is rubbing his eyes and I take one last look at his faded mint hair, saying goodbye to it in my heart. I know what hair color I’m changing my silver hair to, thought of it on the plane and was immediately convinced it was my greatest idea. I nod, sweeping my eyes over the last five heads as if I was going to come back to them as a different person. 

Perhaps I was. 

I ignore Taehyung and his knowing smile as I leave, racking my brain, trying to come up with the reason why he’s acting like this. Did Hobi say something or was I not careful enough, divulging my secret out in the open with my face or my body language? Was the pillow over my lap and my eyes, all of my attention glued to my phone making it that obvious that I’m seeing someone? 

How would they react if they knew it was the Kitty girl? 

I leave it be for now, my cock asking for attention. I fish out my hotel key card and close everything behind me. Taehyung’s all seeing eye, Jimin’s diet and I stoop in my homesickness. 

It’s been two days and I feel as though Kitty ripped my heart out of my chest and folded it somewhere inside her purse when we hugged for the last time. I reminisce on her innocent touch on my neck, the only place she ever touched me besides my hair, on her lips that pressed against that place her hands warmed as I video call her. 

She picks up, immediately. 

I can only see her round head, the red of her hair sprawled messily on the silky, light beige cover of her pillow while the rest of her body is shrouded by that material. She smiles at me, no hint of embellishment lining her face—and something tells me that she’s all bare underneath her bed sheets, too. 

I palm my cock, desperate. 

“How long were you gonna keep me waiting?” she asks, and proves me right as she raises a hand and props it behind her head, the duvet drifting down a little and exposing the beginning of her fleshy peak and my mouth waters. I licked and kissed that breast of hers once upon a time and I would do anything to have that opportunity right now. I would do a better job; I would drive her insane. Spoil her with kisses so harsh that she would reach a point in heaven that no one ever has. 

I think about her question and deem I could never keep her waiting long if I were all by myself. “You know who I was with. Was I supposed to pull out my dick in front of them?” 

She giggles at my bizarre response, shifting her head to find a more comfortable spot, and the wholeness of her breasts greets me.

Bless all silky beddings. The superior invention of all. 

“Oh, hello there,” I joke, deepening her giggles and she angles her phone so I don’t see anything, breaking me apart. 

I shall punish her for it. 

I set my phone down against the table by the wall and take my shirt off. My angle allows her to see the state of me that she created with her lust—by telling me that she was up and desperate for me, craving the toy that I bought for her and that she wouldn’t use it unless I did with her at the same time. I didn’t need any details, any obscenities that I know full well she’s capable of giving me. Just her admitting to me that she needed me, trusting me enough with that intimate information made me so hard that I couldn’t contain myself. 

I watch her eyes glide down my body that isn’t good enough to be regarded like she does, stopping at the weakness she’s effectuated in my groin. And I let her, the first person who ever looked at me with such raw, undomesticated hunger. 

And I wish she would eat me up. Get on a plane, get to this hotel, to my room and take her time taking out my bones. I am for her taking—and I have been since the first time our eyes linked. 

“You’re not really helping me right now,” she croaks out, her raspy voice enveloping around my aching cock and I can say the same. Especially when she shifts entirely, rolls over to her tummy and I can see her natural face better, the carmine of her hair that veils and tickles her cleavage, enough that she flicks it behind her shoulder, letting me be the witness to her bare skin. 

Now she’s punishing me. 

“Was I supposed to help you? I thought we’re helping ourselves,” I tease, and my words pull her mouth apart, even more so when I begin to take off my belt, making sure I tug it out of my belt loops swiftly. She bites her lip, ruining me, and I want to use that leather on her. I fold it in half and point it at her. “This is what you’re getting once I see you.” 

She licks the skin she bit onto, her eyes widening, and I quiver—I quiver because she likes the idea. 

“What for?” she asks, raising her voice a little bit, and I chuckle. 

“For being so goddamn beautiful.” 

Kitty blushes and curls her lips under her teeth like I’ve noticed she so often does. I like it so much, so fucking much that I yearn for her to do it when she takes my cock into her throat for the first time. 

I know she will do a good job, swallowing every inch. 

“Where’s your toy, huh?” 

My chuckle is savage this time, vibrating in my sternum and I watch her perk up at the sound like the kitten she is. I descend into madness, willingly, hasty to jump head-first into this thing, despite my following words. 

“You just can’t wait, can you?” 

Her ‘no’ is etched all over her flushed cheeks and I crave to kiss it, run my lips all over it so they can remember it beyond this day, this month—all the way into the new year. 

“Did you pass through security with it or does the entire LAX know what a slut you are?” 

Her words spring in me, exciting me further more, and I can’t help but smile and blush, like her. I drop my gaze, fondle the leather of my belt, and I feel little sparks of muted electricity shooting down my arms. My mind outruns me, picturing the way I physically destroy her for her bratty, delicious mouth, and my smile blossoms, denting into my face. 

“Your ass is gonna be red, little one. So fucking red you won’t be able to sit down.” 

She doesn’t back away at the threat and I visibly see my own reaction reflecting in her. And it’s my mouth that parts this time when she props her phone against something, rises her chest in the air and sits down on her folded legs. And I have to hold onto the table, with the belt still caged in my grasp, when she spreads her thighs and gives me the consent to see all of her. 

Her perked, full breasts, asking for me. Her soft tummy, perfect for my hands to hold. And my own personal ruination down low, between those thighs, glistening and sopping wet. 

“Not even like this?” 

My cock aches. I let go of the belt and the clanging sound accompanies me as I unbutton my pants. “Not even like this.” 

My desire lodges at the bottom of me, pent-up and animalistic. And I take my phone, rummage in my opened suitcase for the toy, lube and head for the shower. My manliness doesn’t even move due to how hard I am. 

Hearing the sizzling noise of the blasting stream of the shower, her brows scrunch up in confusion and I enjoy her obliviousness to her punishment. 

“You’re taking a shower?” 

I’m not too sure about how loud the toy is and I’m not risking having my members eavesdropping on our intimate act with their ears pressed against the thin walls. I’m absolutely not risking shit, locking the door behind me after I leave her in the small rectangular hole in the shower and dispose myself of my underwear. 

And when I step inside and the water dribbles down my sensitive skin, ignited from my lust and hers, I discover that my plan is working out perfectly. 

She can’t see anything. 

She can’t see the lower half of my body—and she won’t be able to watch the petal-ornamented mouth of the toy swirling around my cock. 

And that’s what she gets, talking like that. 

“Get your toy ready, kitty,” I say, letting the water drench me before I get the job done. I push my hair back and I hear her gasp, the sound making me stop my movements. I look over to her, swiping the drops from my eyes, and I find her humping her hand ever so slowly. I rage, beautifully, wishing that was my hand she was gliding her pussy on until I realize that I’m the reason she slid her hand down there. But that still doesn’t mean she’s allowed to do so. “No touching or we stop.”

My heart hammers in my chest when she complies and my weakness for her increases, filling up every part of me until she’s the very owner of me. 

I swell up with pride. 

“Good girl.” 

At my praise she plunges her wet fingers into her mouth and I lose my sanity. I lose my name, my identity, and the knowledge of my whereabouts. I’m not in LA, where I don’t want to be, carrying my responsibilities and the pressure of unfairness on my back, but I’m somewhere else entirely. All by myself in a place, where she’ll soon join me. A wintry island, just for us, where I’m not an idol, where I don’t have a job that forces me away from her, but where I’m free. Free to do whatever I please. 

“Good fucking girl. Let me have a taste.” I lean my palms against the edge of the hole and I die when she reaches her shiny fingers towards me, towards the camera. I hum, the sound interwoven with my gentle laughter, and I stop myself before I lick the screen. “Thank you. So good, Kitty. Now, can you be the best girl ever and lick your toy? Make it nice and wet for your pussy?” 

Her breath trembles as she exhales, reaching over for the red rose beyond the set-up of her phone. And she rests her chest against the mattress, upthrusts her bum in the air and while she’s this close to the camera, she darts out her tongue and drags it over the silicone hole in the center, her alluring eyes fixed on me. 

My arousal oozes out of my tip, scalding hot, and I suck in a breath, fucked out. 

“Fuck, baby,” I husk, my eyelids lowering as my whole body catches on fire, and I can’t respire. I grip the edge until my fingers are bathed in white. My desire asks for more. “Spit on it for Oppa.” 

She moans and I nearly explode, my memories of her noises when I was tongue-deep in her flooding through my mind, and I can’t take any more of it. Especially not the discovery that she’s keen on titles, keen on me being the dominant one. 

My palm itches for my cock, but I won’t give in. Not yet. 

Kitty gathers her saliva and she seizes all of me when she spits on it, circling her tongue around the rim, spreading it there. And then she whines and my manliness twitches, painfully, ridding me of any sense I had left. 

“Can we start now, please?” she begs, and I’m ready to give her everything. 

I moisten my lips. “Wait for just a little while, baby. Let Oppa get his toy ready.” 

And under her gaze, I squirt the lube inside the hollowness and all over myself, sighing and tilting my head back when I scatter the liquid along my shaft. The pressure of my fist is delicate, yet it feels as though I’m levitating. I’m confident it’s owing to the fact I’m being watched by those rounded eyes of hers and that she’s observing what her psyche has done to me. 

“I want to see you,” she whimpers, and I don’t feel like punishing her any longer. 

I unclench my fist. “What pretty word do you use when you ask for something?” 

She doesn’t even think about it and my pride enlarges. “Please.”

“That’s a good fucking kitty.” 

She sits up and nearly fucks her mattress, moaning into her hand—and I know, I already know that I won’t last long under these circumstances. 

I’m so eager to give her what she wants that I don’t perceive that she's never seen this private part of me before until she gasps so fucking loudly that I startle. I’ve set her on the lower shower shelf and her mouth is wide open, the toy prepared in her hand. 

“You’re so…” she trails off, shy all of a sudden, and I might pay for her plane tickets after my shower. I’m fucking her so hard that I’ll mark every single inch of mine inside her pretty pussy. 

“Tiny,” I finish for her, and she laughs in that dopey way, even though we haven’t even started yet. 

“Will that toy even… fit you?” she asks, her pools entwined to my cock, transfixed, and I long to kiss her. Despairingly. 

I look down to my little man, to the toy and eventually to her. “I’ll make it fit.” 

Her breath hitches in her throat, pleasuring me. “If you talk like that while we do our thing, I won’t be able to hold out.” 

I hum, deeply, my endearment. “Why is that a problem?” She’s taken aback, like she always is whenever we talk, and I tilt my head towards the toy in her hand. “I want you to ride it for me.” 

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and places the rose between her legs without taking her eyes off of mine. Ever so dangerous, ever so aphrodisiacal. “I want you to fuck it for me.” 

I groan, wrapping my fist around my shaft. “Turn it on, Kitty. Make yourself feel good.” 

She mewls long before she turns it on—and once she does, her chest arches towards me and her eyes flutter back. Her hips slowly find their rhythm as she begins to hump it, unsure at first before falling into its temptation. And then she’s loud, louder than the raging waterfall behind me, sprinkling me, and louder than me when I get to work and tug on my length. 

My noises bring her to me, but she doesn’t fix her gaze on mine—they pass down to my cock, her moans becoming needier, and she encourages me to join her. 

“Come on, Oppa, it feels so good.” 

I wade in a haze, spurred from her pleasure and now the title, unable to move my limbs. “Is it sucking on your clit?” 

She nods her head, stopping, but it brings forth more delight for her. She crumbles, her chest curving, and she saves herself from tumbling by propping her palm flat on the mattress, struggling—struggling to breathe, struggling to talk. 

“I—I’m not doing it if—if you’re not,” she stutters, her words melting into a whimper and I’m gone. 

It’s her energy, her desperation-fueled energy that pushes me to move my other limb and glide the mouth of the toy down my tip. She orders me to turn it on and I do, bending forward in the paralyzing pleasure it begins to give me. 

And it’s me who’s loud as it sucks on my head so vehemently that I, too, struggle. 

“Fuck, fuck—” I groan, lowering the toy down my length just in time for it to take the other direction, and I don’t moan any of her pet names. No, I moan out her name—and I make her come. 

My name breaks on her tongue and it is as my undoing as it is hers. I have to pull it out of me in order not to stop our playtime there, recuperating by watching her convulse while sitting on the toy as it completely traps her in the celestial realm of her orgasm. My cock twitches in the air, yearning to be inside her, and feel her walls spasm around it. I accept my death for the longevity of the bursting of her pleasure and I fall, I face-plant, drastically, for her. Deeper and deeper. 

No way back. 

“Good girl. So good. Oppa is proud of you.” 

She yelps, overstimulation grappling her, and I bite my lip so hard I break skin. She lifts her bum, quivering, and only when she catches her breath and begs me to come for her do I fuck the toy and chase down my own orgasm. 

And it doesn’t take long. Not when she topples onto the mattress and her face is what I come on while she, again, joins me, working her fingers on her clit out of my view. 

“You know I’m fucking you and not this toy,” I mutter, focusing the suction on my tip as I pound it. And when she moans my name and I hear the squelching of her hole, I throw the toy on the shelf beside my phone and use my hand to stain her face as if she were here with me, on her knees. 

My orgasm erupts and erupts, triggering hers, and we come together like this. Close, yet far away. Looking into each other’s eyes—never failing, never deteriorating, never diving into our past pains. 

Lightness blankets me and I feel as though I could fly and drift through this world without any burdens to bear on my back. Kitty looks well-spent and I suppose I reflect her all over again—and shall reflect her until my last dying day. 

I wipe my screen, my innermost craving still yet not satisfied, and I identify what it truly is. As she raises onto her knees, I lean against the shelf with my elbows and reveal it to her. 

“Let me see your pussy. Show me how wet you were for me.” 

She saw me up close, I didn’t.

It is only fair. 

She swears, enveloping her vulgarities around my name, and she obeys. Lies back down against her silky pillows and takes her phone between her legs, spreading them. She parts her wet folds with the two of her fingers and I salivate. Her clit is swollen and carmine from the intense sucking of the toy, glimmering in the faint light, her lips dripping and her hole squeezing around nothing. I wither in need, tasting blood on my lip, and when she runs all four of her fingers up her clit, I begin to heave. 

Hard, all over again. 

“Such a pretty pussy. Oppa misses it.” 

She purrs nonsense, as sleepy as she is, and the transfer back to reality is brutal. I check the time and it must be almost four AM in Seoul. I grieve the time zone between us, hoping the endeavor we shared was worth her staying up for me. 

“Good night, moon kitty. Sleep well.” 

She mumbles the same without omitting my newly deep-seated title. The three beautiful words for her form on my tongue, but I don’t say them. I save them for a better time, for the end of this tour, once I fly her to me. 

I watch her sleep for a little bit, my cock softening. Her hand is furled under her chin and I think about how she’s protecting my heart right in there. It doesn’t allow me to end the call, so I take a shower, place her on the sink when I dry myself off, on the table when I dress myself and turn my microphone off when I blow dry my hair. 

It is only when Jungkook knocks on my door and sloshes his sudden plan over me that I am forced to let her flow in her dreams without me and keep them undisturbed. 

What he tells me is my duty and I don’t hesitate to pocket my inconspicuous knife that carries too many bad memories. 

I thank him in my head that I get to wash those memories away with a different blood. 

What he tells me is this: “Come with me, hyung, we have a son of a bitch to mutilate.” 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Four

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (fem rec), unprotected piv, dirty talk??, unedited/unbeta’d)

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Alright, everybody. Please remember to fill out your reading log during the break,” you talked over a room full of distracted tweens excited for the upcoming Spring Break. “Am I talking to air?”

“I hear you,” Sarah answered your question as she approached your desk, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “And I wanted to apologize for last Friday. I was having a bad day and Jessie was making a big deal about me leaving the sleepover—“

“Sarah, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize,” you assured with a kind smile. “Have you talked to Jessie?”

“Yeah, dad took me over to her house on Sunday night and we talked it out. I guess she was offended by me leaving, but I explained to her that I just get anxious sometimes and can’t—“ She sighed. “It just feels better being at home with my dad. I don’t have to try to be funny or cool or whatever.”

You smiled at the tenderness of Joel and Sarah’s bond.

“But anyways,” she continued. “My dad wanted me to ask if you were busy tonight—he still hasn’t gotten a new cellphone which, if you’re wondering, is why he’s having me act as the messenger.”

“Isn’t he coming to pick you up today?”

“No, him and Uncle Tommy are in San Antonio meeting with a developer or something like that,” she informed. “My grandma is picking me up.”

“Oh, well, you can tell your dad I’m free like always,” you chuckled and tried not to think about the fact that as today’s parking lot attendee, you’d have to come face to face with the mother of the man you’d been casually seeing for three weeks now. “Oh, and tell him he needs to get a new phone so you don’t have to play messenger anymore.”

“Trust me, we’ll probably be waiting years until he finally breaks down and gets himself one.” The two of you shared a laugh.

“In that case—“ You jotted your landline and cellphone number on a post-it note. “Here.”

“Miss? My mom wanted me to let you know that I won’t be doing any of my reading logs this week,” another student approached your desk and very sassily delivered his news. You chuckled out a scoff and fixed your attention on him while Sarah went back to her desk.

“Okay, Michael, why won’t you be doing your reading logs?” You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his response.

“Because it’s Spring Break,” he defended.

“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I didn’t assign any homework. All you need to do is keep reading at least a chapter a day of your book—“

“I don’t want to read my book. That’s basically homework.”

You gave him an incredulous look as you tried to gather what little patience remained in you after a long year of teaching fifth graders.

“No, Michael. Homework is what Mrs. Hill gave her students—a packet a day. What I’m asking if you is to do what you’re already supposed to be doing—reading a chapter a day of whatever book you want. That’s not homework, that’s just an activity.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.” He remained firm, mimicking your stance by crossing his arms over his chest.

The bell ringing interrupted whatever onslaught of frustration you were just about to bestow upon him, his smug smirk boiling your blood as he turned and shuffled out of class.

“Have a good break,” you called out to the rest of your students as they shuffled out of the classroom in a single file line.

“Hey,” Joel sighed out his greeting as he entered his mother and father’s ranch home on the outskirts of Austin. Sarah was sat in the living room on the floral loveseat covered in plastic while her grandfather, Paul, sat in his rocking chair fast asleep.

“How did it go?” Sarah offered him a smile as he rounded the corner of the loveseat to plop down beside her.

“Went alright,” he replied. “Got a good chunk of jobs lined up for me and the guys, so we’ll be good on work ‘til the end of the year.”

“That’s good!” She beamed, bringing a hesitant smile to her father’s face. Joel never liked to celebrate his successes—something he likely learned from his father. “Oh,” she tapped his arm as she remembered your conversation from earlier, quickly informing him about your lack of plans for tonight. “She also gave me her number to give to you.”

Joel watched as Sarah fished the note out of her pocket before handing over the crumpled up piece of paper.

“You think she’s home yet?” Joel checked his watch.

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “But grandma was talking about all of us going out for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, was she?” Joel looked disappointed by the sudden emergence of plans when he spent all day hoping that tonight would be spent just with you.

“Joel?” Mary, Joel’s mother, came walking down the stairs with a smile. “Bout time you came to see us.”

“I’m busy with the new company, ma, you know that,” he argued as he stood up to greet her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Busy with the company or with your new lady friend?” she teased with a grin. Joel whipped his eyes over to his daughter who already held her hands up in defense.

“My bad.”

Joel chuckled out a scoff before turning back to his mother. “It’s new.”

“And? That’s all you gotta say about her?”

“To you. For now.” Joel followed her into the kitchen, Sarah trailing shortly behind.

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Hunt her down and force her to look at your baby book?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he retorted with a mischievous smile.

“Joel Miller, I swear if you do not give me at least a summary of this woman—“

“Alright, alright,” Joel sighed and looked to Sarah who was beaming with amusement. “She’s Sarah’s teacher. We met at a parent/teacher conference. She’s…nice.”

“Nice?” Both women repeated the descriptor as if it was an insult.

“Dad, you’re basically in love. I’m sure you can find a better word than nice,” Sarah reasoned.

“She is nice. Everything else is private,” he argued.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out at dinner tonight,” his mother shrugged with a smirk. Joel turned wild in the eyes and shook his head.

“No, no, no. She ain’t—y’all aren’t—no.”

Sarah laughed at her dad’s fluster and looped her arm around his waist hug him. “It’ll be okay, pops. Just breathe.”

“Oh, to hell with that,” Joel shook his head again, turning to his mother. “I haven’t even taken her out for a real dinner yet, ma. I’m not invitin’ her out to deal with y’all.”

“Deal with? Son, we are as civilized as anybody else—“

“Ma, you got a plunger? I clogged the damn toilet!” Tommy shouted from upstairs and Joel gestured in his direction as though to prove his point.

“Well not here. We’re in the comfort of our own home,” she defended as she made her way out of the kitchen to help her son. “She’s comin’ tonight! Better go on and call her up.”

“Christ,” he sighed and stomped over to the landline, his scowl fixed on Sarah as he dialed the number. “If she never speaks to us again, it’s on you.”

“She’ll love us.”

Although it wasn’t what you were expecting for the night, Joel’s call to invite you out to dinner with his family was impossible to decline just due to how much you missed him. Even if you turned into a ball of nerves every time you had to meet “the parents”, it was worth it just to be in the same room with him, especially after the day you had.

At seven, Joel, Sarah, and Tommy came to pick you up, but for once it was you running late. You invited them inside to wait while you finished getting ready, handing Sarah the TV remote and watching as her and Tommy instantly started bickering over what to watch while Joel followed you into your bedroom.

“How is this the first time I’ve ever been in your room?” He found a seat on the foot of your bed while you sat at your vanity, finishing up on taming your hair.

“Because I’m old fashioned,” you turned back to give him a wink. “But also because I can’t seem to get you alone long enough to give you a proper tour.”

“I know,” he sighed and walked over to you, standing behind you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, the warmth and softness of his lips curing something that had been aching inside of you since the last time he kissed you. “I made a deal with my mom. She watches Sarah this weekend, and I suck it up and allow you to meet my chaotic family.”

“Mm, so I get you all weekend is what you’re saying?” You smirked at him through the mirror.

“All. Damn. Weekend.” He kissed your neck as a promise, your eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his proximity. “No interruptions. Just me and you.”

“S-sounds good,” you stuttered through your haze of lust and Joel smiled against your skin, seemingly amused by his effect on you.

“You got chills,” he rasped, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “That all me?”

“Just wait until you see what else you do to me,” you purred back, earning a groan of desperation.

“You two done yet?” Tommy called out from the living room. “We got places to be.”

“Save that thought for after dinner,” Joel mumbled against your cheek as he gave you one more kiss.

Five or so minutes later and you were on your way to the restaurant, nerves now replacing the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you thought about what his parents would be like. If they were anything like Tommy, Sarah, and Joel, you had nothing to worry about, but it was the uncertainty that drove you mad.

“You alright?” Joel stayed back with you as you pretended to have forgotten something in the truck, Tommy and Sarah heading into the restaurant to meet up with Joel’s parents.

“Just nervous,” you shrugged with a soft smile. “Anything I should avoid bringing up?”

“Politics. My dad’s a big Republican, so,” he winced. “But my mom is about as liberal as they come, so at least there’s that.”

“So I should stick to talking to your mom, then,” you joked.

“Come on,” he nudged his head towards the restaurant and laced his fingers with yours. “I’ll be right there next to ya, and as soon as we’re done with dinner it’ll be just us all weekend.”

You took a deep breath of courage and gave him a cheeky but bashful smile, bringing a similar one to his own face.

“God, I just can’t help myself—“ Joel cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet him as he leaned in for a surprising kiss, your hand finding purchase on his wrist to ground yourself.

“Mm,” you hummed as you pulled away from him earlier than he would’ve liked. “Let’s not stall anymore. Don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence.”

“She knows me well enough to know I’m the bad influence, but alright,” he tugged you off towards the restaurant with your hand in his.

As the hostess guided you through the busy dining room, you leaned further into Joel. He didn’t seem to mind the clinginess, his hand letting go of yours so that he could slide an arm around your waist.

“There y’all are!” A stout woman you presumed to be Joel’s mother stood up from the table where the rest of the Millers were seated, a big, dimpled grin on her face that resembled Joel’s.

“Ma,” Joel introduced the two of you by name, his eyes fixed on you as you shook her hand and allowed her to seat you beside her rather than next to Joel like you’d hoped. You gave Joel a nervous look from across the table as he sat himself directly across from you beside his father.

“It is so nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Mary fixed her attention on you. “Joel’s been pretty tight lipped about ya, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

“Well,” you chuckled nervously, but Joel’s reassuring eyes from across the table helped calm the frenzy of anxiety coursing through your veins. “I’m a teacher, have been for a few years now but this is my second year in Austin.”

You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mary, her warm smile and sense of humor similar to that of her children and granddaughter. You told her where you grew up, where you’d been before coming to Austin, about what you liked to do in your free time, but mostly you told her the story of how you and Joel came to be.

Across the table, his father continued to remain stern and silent, only mumbling to his boys or to Sarah every now and again to remind them to use their manners. He seemed like a tough egg to crack, and while you were up for the challenge eventually, earning his respect today seemed unlikely.

“Joel, you ever tell her about your singin’?” Tommy spoke up from down the table, his question bringing a blush to Joel’s face.

“Yeah, I mentioned it.” He looked over to you and cracked the most subtle of smirks, no doubt remembering what occurred shortly after.

“Well, you gonna sing for her?” Mary asked with mischief in her tone, bringing an amused smile to your face.

“Not here,” he sassed, tilting his head at her mockingly.

“Why not here?” You prodded with a smirk, your foot finding his calf beneath the table. Joel gave you a chuckle and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Please?”

“Ya know, I pride myself on my ability to not cave into peer pressure,” he retorted with a quirked eyebrow, daring you to challenge him. You bit your lip and looked down at your plate, too flustered by everything him to look him in the eyes—especially given the current company.

“So, Sarah, how are you likin’ the whole dad datin’ your teacher thing?” Tommy asked, and the question earned the attention of the entire table.

“I don’t mind it,” she shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was Mrs. Clarkson from last year.”

“God,” Joel shook his head at the mere idea. “That woman terrified me and I’m a grown man.”

“Oh,” Sarah called your name. “Did you tell dad about Michael?”

“Michael? Who’s…uh, who’s Michael?” Joel’s jealousy was as clear as day, bringing amused grins to almost everyone’s faces aside from the ever stoic Mr. Miller.

“Michael is my student,” you clarified and eased his concern. “A shitty student at that.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s—well, I guess I probably shouldn’t be saying this around you, Sarah.”

“I promise I won’t talk about it,” she replied earnestly and you easily caved.

“He is just the absolute worst. And his parents are even shittier,” you lamented with a laugh. “Today he came up to me while Sarah and I were talking at the end of class, and flat out told me that he wasn’t going to be doing the reading log during the break because his mom said so.”

“Why doesn’t he just fake it like everybody else?” Tommy chimed in but quickly received an elbow from his niece.

“I don’t fake my reading logs,” she corrected.

“Yeah…right.” He gave her a sarcastic nod and turned back to you. “I’m just speaking from experience. I never did any of that shit and I turned out…well, I turned out decent.”

“Yeah. Maybe I am being too demanding,” you shrugged, turning back to your plate.

“No,” Joel was quick to interject. “Don’t listen to Tommy—he couldn’t even get into community college. You’re the one who went to school for six years to do this. You know what you’re doin’, that kid’s just a prick.”

You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit as he stood up for you, his foot pressed to yours beneath the table acting as a sort of promise that he’d always be here to do this—to remind you of your worth.

“Thank you,” you mouthed just to him. “Anyways, it’s his loss—and yours too, Tommy. Reading is fun.”

Tommy mimicked your smile and chuckled. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“Alright, don’t give your grandma a hard time,” Joel ordered Sarah as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway outside your house.

You watched the scene from the doorway, smiling at the way he swayed her and kissed the top of her head. If only all little girls could grow up with a father like Joel—not flawless, but as close to it as a man could get. There was no denying his love for her and vice versa, and the fact that you were being let into this beautiful family felt like nothing less than an honor.

“Alright, go on,” he ruffled the top of her hair with a playful grin. “I love ya, and I’ll see you Sunday night, alright?”

“Love you too,” she gave him one more hug before turning to you standing up the walkway. With a wave, she wished you goodbye as well, your smile widening at the gesture. “See you!”

“See ya, Sarah!”

Joel met you by the front door and watched Tommy and Sarah pull out of your driveway before he turned to you with an anticipatory grin.

“Well, just us now,” he husked, playfulness thick in his southern drawl.

“Whatever will we do?” you teased, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer.

Joel cradled your cheek and jaw with both hands as he leaned down to kiss you, both of you still wearing your grins through it. Walking you backwards into the house, you giggled into his mouth as you nearly stumbled over before he caught you.

“Clumsy,” he accused in a rasp.

“Your fault,” you countered and he laughed against you.

Joel’s hands traveled to your hips to keep you flush against him as he kicked the front door shut, your smiles fading as the kiss deepened into something so filthy even the humor of the almost-fall couldn’t penetrate it.

“God,” he groaned against your lips as he continued walking you through the living room to your bedroom. “I want you so bad, baby girl. Fuck.”

“Remember what we were talking about earlier?” you purred against his jaw as your kisses trailed down to his neck, Joel’s body pinning you against your open bedroom door. He hummed against you in confirmation and you smiled, taking one of his hands off your waist to guide it beneath the linen of your dress, his breath ragged as his fingertip grazed over your thighs until they reached the soaked lace of your panties. “This is what you do to me, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin—baby, I need you,” he whimpered and sunk to the floor in front of you, his dark and dreamy eyes peering up at you for permission as he lifted the hem of your dress up. “Can I taste you?”

“God, you never have to ask,” you moaned back, taking the fabric bunched in his hands and holding it for him. Joel’s eyes dropped from yours down to the image right in front of him, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip at the sight of your white lace thong.

“You’re gonna make me lose my mind, baby,” he groaned again, his hands now running up and down the outside of your thighs.

The anticipation could have killed you, your chest heaving and skin prickling with chills from the simple sensation of his breath fanning over the wet spot on your panties, the lust in his eyes. Combing your fingers through his hair, you attempted to silently urge him on and he seemed to pick up on it, his hands sliding back up to your hips to hook into the tiny band of your underwear and slip them down your legs until they were kicked off.

“Baby,” he cooed as you draped one of your knees over his broad shoulders to open yourself up to him, his mouth watering at the sight. “I’m never gonna wanna do anythin’ else but stay right—“ He placed a kiss to your mound and your entire body jerked. “Here.”

His tongue swiped through your folds and you melted against the door behind you, your fingers gripping his hair now as you struggled to stay upright. Joel practically growled at your taste, his hands gripping your thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he tensed his tongue to circle your swollen bud until your arousal started to drip down your thighs. “That’s so good.”

Your praise earned you another growl, his tongue now flicking and circling, lapping and sucking against you until your thighs were shaking from the pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.” He sucked your clit and made you cry out his name. “Yeah, just like that. Keep sayin’ my name, baby. Let everyone know.”

“Joel, fuck!” Your orgasm was imminent, the tingling in your thighs that traveled down to your toes and back up your spine fogging any sense of coherency you may have once had in his presence. “I—fuck, I—“

“I know, baby. Can taste it.” He shook his head and flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes meeting with yours. You wanted to cry, but the pleasure you were feeling was too consuming. The only thing you could do as Joel sucked your now throbbing bud into his mouth was to cry out his name like a prayer—some sort of wicked salvation that beat out any other holier counterpart. “Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste it…every fuckin’ drop—“

“Fuck!” You crumpled to the ground, your back sliding against the door until you were kneeling with him on the floor, your body shuddering as you rode out the waves of your euphoria.

Joel was quick to act, guiding you down onto your back while you were still lost in bliss. He kissed your face as if you were his most prized possession, his hands worshipping the curves of your still-clothed body.

“Need you, baby,” he whispered against your jaw as he placed a love bite there, your head nodding to give him consent to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you after that mind blowing climax he just gave you.

You only heard the clinking of his belt buckle before feeling his cock stretch you open, a choked cry slipping from your lips in time with Joel’s wanton groan. You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the place you were joined, delighting in the fact that neither of you were undressed, the neediness of the moment turning you both feral.

“God damn,” he groaned and let his head hang as he stilled himself deep inside of you after only a few thrusts. “About to embarrass myself. You feel too fuckin’ good, baby.”

“Don’t worry about lasting long,” you stroked his beard. “I just wanna feel you.”

“God, I—” He choked on his words and leaned over your body, propping himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his jean-clad ass to urge him on, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.

“Want you to cum for me,” you moaned, pressing kisses into the side of his face as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum inside me—“

“Fuck,” he shouted as his cock thrust into you faster and deeper, your wetness squelching around him and filling the room along with both of your ragged moans. “I’m gonna—fuck, baby. You sure?”

“I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” you promised. Joel lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face scrunched up in something akin to agony but you were sure it couldn’t have been further from it.

“Gonna fill you up, beautiful,” he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Gonna have you dripping for me.”

“Yes!” His cock was hitting something inside of you that was making you see stars, your mind going back to that pleasure-dumb state you’d just been lost in, and before you had time to warn him, your walls fluttered in time with his cock spilling inside of you. “I’m coming, Joel, fuck!”

“Me too, baby,” he choked out through a string of profanity and moans. “Fuck, so fuckin’—you’re perfect.”

The two of you stayed there for a while, both of you turned into puddles of post-climactic bliss as you laid in each other’s arms. Joel hissed as he pulled out and rolled over onto the carpet beside you, both of you turning your heads to look at each other with wide, almost childlike grins.

“Be my girlfriend?” Joel choked out, nerves thick in his shaky voice. You laid there speechless for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that ever since you met him you’d been dreaming of the day those words would leave his lips. So, you kept it simple, a smile gracing your face as you reached over to hold his face.

“I would love to.”

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Nine)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,860

Warning: confessions, loss of virginity, smut, lovemaking, fingering, unprotected sex

A/N: so were actually going to have two more parts! Part ten and an Epilougue! 🥹 sorry for the late post this was a long chapter and someone decided to fall asleep in the pool after chugging down margaritas and yeah—it was all me 😬

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Ten Part Eleven

Love?

That simple four-letter word weighed like a ton in your heart and the pit of your stomach. Did Suguru tell you he loved you? Your breath quickened as he stroked your hair gently; his dark eyes bore into yours.

“You—you love me?”

“Yes, god, I love you.”

Every time he said that your stomach fluttered with butterflies of excitement. But his eyes shut tight as he pulled his forehead away from yours, allowing him to look at your entire face. His was still shirtless, pants pulled down to his thighs, and you were naked, but something about being so exposed made this moment that much more intense.

“How long have you loved me?”

Suguru sat up straight, allowing him to give you his full undivided attention. “I knew I liked you the first day we met. But that grew into a crush that turned into a bigger crush in high school; before I knew it, I was utterly in love with you.” He shut his eyes as he smiled warmly. “Which was as easy as breathing.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, flushing at the sweet words.

“But why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

You pursed your lips together. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t been scared of your deepening feelings and what that would do to your friendship. “I mean, when you said you couldn’t do, uhm—“ you motioned to the position you were still in, “this, it almost ruined me.” Because you were afraid, your boldness had ruined that nearly two-decade-long friendship.

“But I know now, I have to be honest. I can’t keep living with this secret on my chest.” He gently cupped your cheek in his warm hand, his finger caressing the skin. “You deserve to know the truth.” When you didn’t oppose his words, Suguru took a deep breath. “The day Utahime found your cottage hit me like a train. When you said you could be gone for two years, my stomach fell out of my ass. Because the thought of being away from you for that long was unimaginable.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Who else would ensure I was taking care of myself, bringing me food, dragging me away from my canvas? No one cares for me like you.”

“I did promise your mom I’d look out for you.” You try to joke, but his confession has your voice breaking as you are overwhelmed by his sweet words.

“Yeah, and that’s why my folks love you too.” He brushed against your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But that night, we went to dinner to celebrate you finding the cottage; I didn’t know what to do. You were so excited about going, and I wanted to support you. But thinking about you leaving and falling in love with some European guy made my stomach hurt.”

You cocked an eyebrow and giggled. “Some European guy?”

“Yeah, like a French model or something.” You laugh again, and it’s like music to his ears. “But when Nanami told me you were struggling with the intimate scenes in your book and that going on this retreat might help. I decided that if I could help you with those scenes, maybe I’d finally work up the courage to tell you how I felt, but it became something else. Something deeper, something more profound and intimate. I was something living off a stupid idea when I should’ve just been honest with you. We could just be together. And I almost managed to fuck that up.”

“Suguru—”

“I was an idiot. I should’ve been blunt and honest about how I felt instead of hiding behind the idea that I was helping you. If I’m being honest, doing all this intimate stuff with you made me fall even more in love with you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I’m beating around the bush. I fucking love you.”

“Suguru—I—”

“You don't have to say it back; I just needed you to know because I can’t just sleep with you. Not when you deserve so much more.”

His confession was raw and honest, making your heart sing. Without thinking, you pulled his hands away from your face; Suguru's eyes widened as if he thought maybe you were angry. But when your lips slammed against his in a heated kiss that had that simmering desire in your lower stomach roaring to life again. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you firmly against his bare chest, turning his head to deepen the kiss. His erection was hardening again, rutting against your lower stomach; before things progressed any further, you broke the kiss, panting heavily.

He had been so honest with you; he deserved to know how you felt. “Suguru—I-I could’ve been honest too— because I felt the same way early into our agreement. I kept telling myself that you were helping me out, being a good friend, when I knew for a fact that there was more to it. When I thought you were leaving for four months, my world seemed to stop.” His hands gently ran up and down your back as you spoke. “I realized I needed to tell you how I felt, but uhm—“ with a nervous chuckle, you flushed, “I got some advice to show you how I felt; that's why I—I jumped you like this.” Suguru scoffed, shaking his head, and exhaled heavily through his nose.

“And I was told to talk to you.” A comfortable silence draws out between you. “God, we're a couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.” You let out a sing-song giggle as Suguru chuckles, trailing kisses slowly up your neck. “A couple of idiots in love.”

The sensations of Suguru’s lips slowly moving up your neck stopped at the spot right beneath your earlobe. You could feel how hot his breath was as he slowly inhaled and exhaled against your skin. The burning desire slowly began to spread from your body to all the other parts of you. Your skin was sensitive to his hands running over you, your heart was slamming against your ribs, and you felt yourself getting wetter as Suguru pulled away from your neck to stare into your eyes.

His cock was hard and throbbing inside of his boxers. He didn't remember the last time he was this turned on or if there had ever been a time in his life when he had been so hard. This was different; tension and excitement settled in his stomach. He wanted this, wanted you so fucking bad. Not because he wanted you, wanted to pop your cherry.

He wanted to love you in every way he was able to.

“I—I want you.” The breathless needy whisper nearly had him cumming in his pants. “Sugu, please, I want you to be my first for everything.”

Your first, did you want him to be your first? God, this was happening. It wasn’t a dream this time.

“You’re positive? You want to do this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about it in my life.”

One of Suguru’s hands slowly slid down your back, leaving a trace of goosebumps in its wake. The warm, calloused fingers brushed over your hip before they slid lower until they found your clit. He pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves and slowly circled it just the way you liked it. His fingers rubbing against you sent your body jerking forward with a high-pitched moan.

Your legs were shaking, and your voice seemed to crack as Suguru dipped his finger lower, growling at the wet slick that he brushed against. You were soaking wet. The thought of being buried inside of you when you were this wet had his self-control wavering. Accidentally hurting you was the last thing Suguru ever wanted to do; this was your first time; he wanted it to be perfect, to be as painless as it could be. So instead of shoving his cock deep inside of you, he pushed his middle and ring finger into you.

The way your voice hitches, eyes going wide as he slowly begins pumping his fingers in and out of your tight, wet heat, has your eyes shut tight. Your voice breaks the soft whimpers invading Suguru’s ears as he curls his fingers up, rubbing your g-spot with experienced strokes. A tremor starts through your legs, making its way up to your hips and stomach. You melt like butter with each come-hither stroke and kiss against your neck.

Suguru grunts softly as you begin rolling your hips against his hand, spreading your wet arousal over the palm of his hand as he moves faster and harder, the sound of your moans and whimpers feeding into his speed, making him more eager, please you get you off, he wanted this to be the best first time anyone could ask for. His teeth sunk into your neck, drawing out a sharp gasp from you as his fingers rubbed that spongy spot inside of you. Wet squelches filled the bedroom, and the sounds of him finger fucking you only made you wetter.

“S-Suguru—”

He hummed, lapping his tongue over the bite mark he had left in his wake. “You’re so wet~ does this feel good, princess~?”

“Ye-Yeah fuck, it feels really good—i-I think I'm gonna—”

“Ooh gonna cum for me already~?”

“Mhmm.”

“Was my princess that horny that she’s already going to cum for me? I've barely touched you.” His lips pressed against yours softly as he rubbed your g-spot harder. “You can cum~ I plan on making you cum again~.”

His bold declaration, the expert strokes, and his lips on your neck sucking on it were all you needed to send you over the edge of an orgasm you had never experienced before. It was much more intense before a gush of liquid coated Suguru’s hand. Seeing you squirt, feeling your juices coat, His hand had Suguru’s pupils the size of pinpricks, his fingers gently pulling out of you before glancing down at his wet fingers before slowly trailing up to your pleasure-drunk face.

“Didn't take you for a squirter.” He teased, flipping you both so you were pressed back against the bed.

“G-Gotta k-keep you—haaah—” your eyes rolled back as you spread your legs as wide as you could for Suguru. “on your t-toes.”

Your best friend hummed at your breathless words as he reached down, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His heartbeat echoed inside of his ears as you kept your eyes wide open for him, exposing your beauty to him. After years of imagining being with you, holding you close, making love to you, all those dreams were about to come true for him.

You watched as Suguru reached into his pants, grabbing his wallet. Your eyes focused on the foil package. He pulled it out, opening it with his teeth. That in itself could have made you cum for a second time without him even touching you. His hands moved with experience sliding the condom over his cock, before staring down at you for a second before blinking.

He leaned back, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You're not allergic to latex, are you?"

“No, I’m not.”

“Princess.” Suguru slowly learned to get closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? You want to do this?” He pressed his forehead on yours, darting between your eyes to your lips. “You know I’d wait for you as long as needed.”

There he went again, being as caring and considerate as possible. “You asking that makes me not doubt a single thing.” Suguru flushed as you placed your hand on his, gently stroking his knuckles. “I want you to be my first; I wholeheartedly do. Because I love you.” Suguru smiled back, nodding. He pulled his hand away from your face, intertwining your fingers.

“I love you too, Princess.” He slots himself between your legs, taking a deep breath. “Let me know if it hurts, okay? I don't want to hurt you."

"I will." She whispered, kissing him softly. "Suguru, I love you so much."

The man you had been friends with for years, whom you’d fallen hopelessly in love with, smiled softly, leaning in and kissing you deeply. "I love you so much.” He held his cock by the base, the thick shaft heavy in his hands. “Ready Princess?" You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, allowing him to lose himself in your intoxicating scent.

"Ready."

“Okay, honey, tell me if it hurts.” Suguru pushed into your tight entrance gently, his width stretching you out more than you imagined it could. "F-Fuck—”

Thanks to Suguru prepping you and ensuring you were as wet as possible, it didn’t hurt like you had feared it would. Instead, you moaned and whimpered, yet whimpered at the same time. "F-Fuck, O-Oh god." You said, gazing into his eyes as he watched you closely, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain that washed over your features.

When your eyebrows knitted together, Suguru slowly paused. "D-Do you need me to stop for a second, Princess?"

"Y-Yeah." You confessed as you gently gripped onto his arms. "Y-You're just really big."

“Oh, yeah—” An almost sudden swarm of confidence swelled in his chest as Suguru nodded, stilling above you as he panted. "N-Need me to pull out?"

"N-No." You took a calming breath. "I just needed a second to adjust—you can keep going, Sugu. It's not so much that it hurts—I feel full."

Suguru nodded again, pressing gently kisses against your cheeks as he slowly began pushing further inside you again. "Mm, I see; as long as you're not in pain, that’s all that matters to me~” A whine resonates in your chest, causing your walls to squeeze Suguru gently. Making your tight, wet heat even tighter. “Fuck you're so tight, Princess—”

“A-And your cock, is thick,” You gasped, your eyes rolling back as you released your arms around his neck, one hand grabbing his own while the other grabbed at the bedding. "But it feels so good, I-I want m-more please.”

Suguru took a second to admire you as a whole truly. How you gently squeezed his fingers, how your other arm wrapped around your head, fingers gripping the pillow behind your head. The way your face was contorting with the pleasure of slowly getting fucked as a growl rose in the back of his throat while he looked down at you. Never in his life had Suguru ever seen someone as beautiful as you.

God, he loved you. He loved you so much that it hurt. He never wanted to do something like this with anyone else. Not when you looked like a literal goddess underneath him. You were taking him so well; it had his cock twitching as he thought of how pretty you’d be in all sorts of different positions.

"Fucking Christ, you look so pretty and perfect—" He started to slide into you again, his mouth open as he tried to breathe regularly. “Like you were fucking made for me, baby, god. I love you, fuck.”

"Y-You're so handsome." You cried softly as he slid further into your tight walls. His eyes narrowed in pure concentration as you shuddered and squirmed. The way his dark, pierced brow twitched as dark strands of his hair fell from his bun to hang in his face would make anyone’s heart palpitate. Geto Suguru wasn’t with just anyone; he was with the girl he loved: you. "I love you~ I—I need all of you Sugu~"

Hearing you say how handsome he was and how you needed all of him, your best friend bit his bottom lip as he shuddered. His head rested on your shoulder as he breathed heavily against your flushed skin. "F-Fuck, if you keep talking like that, I might not even get the chance to do that, Princess." He pressed into you until your hips met, making him moan softly as he was fully buried inside of you. You were his whole world, the only woman he had ever truly loved.

"R-Right, sorry you just—nngh!” He slowly rolled his hips into you, causing you to dig your nails into his back. “O-Oh, god." You said, looking down at your conjoined bodies. "Fuck that feels good." Your walls twitched eagerly around him. "Fuck~"

“Oh, Princess,” Suguru chuckled before he panted against your skin. “You haven’t felt anything yet.” Hot, open, mouthed kisses trailed along your shoulder and up your neck. “Is it okay if I move?” Suguru’s heavy breathing and gentle tone of voice relaxed every tight muscle in your body.

You panted heavily along with him. "Y-Yes, god, yes, please.” You said, kissing his shoulder gently as he pulled back to look at you.

Suguru caught your lips with him in a desperate kiss. As his tongue slowly slid into your mouth, he started to pull out of you before rolling his hips and thrusting back in. You let out a wanton whine into each hungry kiss, your legs shaking as you slowly wrapped them around his waist. God, you loved him; you loved him so damn much. His personality, his looks, his heart. But the way he was gently fucking into you, making love with you, made you fall even harder if that was even possible.

Suguru started to sweat, his face a dusty rose color from the effort he put in to hold back to avoid hurting you. But each time he slid in, and you tightened around him, or your breath caught, or you’d unknowingly rock back against him, it drove him crazy. His kisses became less gentle, harder, desperate against your lips, "D-Does this feel okay? Do you wanna keep this pace, or—“ his cheeks flushed, “W-Would it be okay—if I went a little harder?"

You stroked his cheek and nodded, licking at your swollen and bitten lips. "Y-Yeah, you can go harder a-and maybe—uhm—“

“Uhm, what? What do you need, Princess?”

“Could you go a little faster?”

Suguru swears he feels his balls clench at your request. He wants to take care of you, to be gentle and caring. He wanted your first time to be as unique as you were to him. But he was losing control. You felt so fucking good wrapped around him, your tight twitches trying to milk him for everything he had. Pulling him in deeper, squeezing the absolute hell out of him. That fragile grip he held on to, holding himself back, snapped like a twig in the breeze. His hips slowly dragged out and slammed back into you, picking up a more speedy rhythm. "F-Fuck—Princess—!!"

The increase in speed, Suguru’s deep primal moans in your ear, and the feeling of his body on you had your head reeled. You squeezed your legs around him tighter and harder, trying to rock against him to meet his pace. But your orgasm was building, causing every nerve in your body to catch on fire as you trashed your head back and forth, crying out in pleasure as his cock hit your g-spot with each rolling thrust. His feet dug into the sheets, pushing them down the mattress as he attempted to bury himself deeper inside of you while he pinned your hand to the bed, giving it a hard squeeze as he fucked into you with all of his strength.

The bed creaked under your combined weight, the headboard slamming against the wall as Suguru fucked into you. Drawing sounds you had never made before. Desperate cries., pleased groans, and sharp whines, god, this felt so good. You had never felt so good before. You found yourself in a hazy hue of pleasure as your orgasm began building inside of you, more intense than anything you had felt before.

“Fuck! Suguru!” You screamed out his name, your free hand abandoning the pillow and his hand digging your nails into his back. “O-Oh, my god!" Your moans got louder and louder with each manic thrust Suguru gave you. "I-I'm so close." You reached down with your right hand, rubbing your swollen hard clit.

“No.” Suguru grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from your clit, gently placing it back on his shoulder. “I got you.” His hand rubbed those circles you were craving over your sensitive bud.

“S-Suguru—haaah nnngh fuck! Fuck me!”

“Fuck you feel so fucking good—Princess, fuck, you're so tight, be a good girl and cum on me, cum on my cock—!!"

Your back arched off the mattress as you came. For the second time in your life, you squirted, only this time, it was all over his cock. This, by far, was the strongest orgasm you had ever had, and it ripped through your entire soul. Your walls clenched and hugged around Suguru, making him throb in return. Watching you was all it took to have him moaning, groaning, and whimpering as he came into the condom.

"Princess!!"

A string of your name left his mouth as he continued pushing inside of you. Fucking the tip of his cock firmly against your cervix as both of you kissed each other urgently. Nails digging into skin, fingers rubbing sensitive spots faster as your bodies rutted against each other.

After what seemed like an eternity of pleasurable waves, you whined as you rode out the last trembling waves of your orgasm. "Nnngh." You relaxed against the mattress as your nails stopped digging into Suguru’s back, opting to rub up and down his toned muscles gently.

Suguru hummed softly, slowly pulling back to stare down at you for a moment. Pushing stray strands of your hair out of your face. "Feeling okay?" He whispered as he slowly pulled out of you, taking care of the condom and tossing it in the trash.

"I feel," you looked, meeting Suguru’s watchful eyes. “Great, it didn’t hurt at all.”

There was a certain sense of pride in your words that had Suguru pulling you into his arms to snuggle you to his chest. He was so fucking happy; he just lay there breathing long, deep breaths as he brushed his fingers through your hair. "Yeah? Good, I'm glad it didn’t hurt. All I want is for you to feel nothing but pleasure. Are you sure you’re okay?" You buried your face into his chest, draping your arm over his chest, before turning to look at the palm of your hand.

“I guess I just thought I would feel different.”

“Different, how?”

"I don't know, to change inside and out." You whispered, glancing up towards his face. "Like I would finally be a woman or something.”

Suguru grinned, pressing his lips against yours with a gentle kiss. “Yeah? Are you disappointed that you don’t feel different?” He watched as you gently propped your chin on his chest, your cheeks flushed as you shyly smiled.

“No, because something even better happened than changing inside and out.”

“Oh yeah, and what is that?”

“I got to fall deeper in love with you.” You felt Suguru’s breath hitch as his eyes widened, focusing on your pretty face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Suguru kissed you harder, pulling you tighter against his body before he broke the kiss. “Be mine, please.”

You flushed as he gently stroked your cheek with his hand. “Yours?” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“My girlfriend, please, Princess; I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone but you, Suguru. Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Your boyfriend could have jumped over the moon. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you, thank you.” More kisses were planted over your cheeks before finally meeting your lips. “Do me a favor and just stay here for a second. I'm going to get you some water and a warm rag.”

Suguru did exactly as he promised, putting on a movie in the background as he gently wiped you clean with a warm rag. He insisted you drink plenty of water, filling up your bottle twice before he crawled back in bed with you. As you lay in bed, Siguru gently massaged your shoulders and thighs, easing the burning ache that was starting to settle in them. He was so gentle with you, making you feel as loved if not more, the hours after you had sex, proving to be the perfect boyfriend.

Your relationship with the new title, boyfriend, and girlfriend didn't change much. Aside from the sex, the quiet ‘I love you’ whispered in passing, and the subtle displays of PDA in public, nothing changed. Instead, your friendship seemed to grow stronger. Full of more laughter and love, something both of you had longed before for so long.

Two weeks passed, and you both had been in Okinawa for a month before you knew it. Your days were spent transcribing, working on rewrites, and talking to Nanami and Utahime over the phone while you sat in the aquarium with Suguru as he worked. It was a month full of changes, healing, and love. Coming to Okinawa with you was the best decision Suguru ever made.

The pain of what happened to Riko was still there and would always linger, but with each passing day, Suguru felt his heart and soul heal a little more. That was all thanks to you. With due time, the throbbing stabbing pain would hurt more like a pinch to the skin. As long as you stood by his side, Suguru knew he would get through it.

He put his whole heart into the mural he painted, going above and beyond what he had initially done on canvas. He put so much detail into Riko, the fish, and his friends, whom he hadn’t seen for a month. But his favorite part of the painting was the subtle change he had made to you both. He had painted you holding hands, a simple fix that made his heart swell each time he saw it. A change that both of you loved.

While Suguru’s painting looked terrific, your writing improved tremendously! Nanami had nothing but good things to say about your intimate scenes and how your characters had grown with you. He was sure the next book you worked on would top the first one, leaving you feeling as good as your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

God, you couldn’t get over that your best friend for years had become your boyfriend! Every time you would steal him while he would move his paintbrush against the wall, you’d giggle, hiding your face in your hands, your boyfriend painted. Being with him in Okinawa was the best choice you made, even though you had to make a sacrifice for it. If you were allowed to redo this all over again, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing about it.

After a long, hard day of panting and cleaning up details, Suguru stepped down from the ladder and grinned at the scene with Riko. All the base colors were done on this wall; he just had to add the rest to the other half, and then he could start adding details, followed by shading and highlights. As he admired his work, Suguru felt your arms snake around him as you smothered your face into his back.

“It looks great, baby,” your whisper was almost smothered by how deep your face was in his back. “Good work today.”

“Mmm, thanks, Princess. Only three months to go, but if I keep up the pace, I might get done sooner than that.”

“Well, no matter how long it takes, I’ll be beside you.”

You pulled away only to receive a kiss to the temple. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You were yourself.” You answered without hesitation, smiling wide as Suguru ruffled the top of your head.

“You flatter me; I love you—” Before Suguru could kiss you, he stepped forward, knocking over a paint can. “Shit!” Suguru quickly grabbed some towels he kept around wiping it up. “Baby, could you g—?”

“On it!”

You were already running out of the sealed-off area, rushing to the bathroom to grab some damp and dry paper towels. Suguru watched you leave, grinning as he quickly cleaned up as much paint as he could. While he did his best not to smear the teal paint more, your phone on the table you worked at started buzzing.

Suguru groaned, abandoning his messy cleanup and wiping his hands on his shirt before looking to see Utahime’s name on your screen; he knew you had been waiting for her call to let you know if she got your next chapter approved, so he answered the phone. Holding it between his ear and shoulder, he hurried back to his mess.

“Hey Utahime, my girlfriend stepped away, what’s up?”

He chuckled at the sigh that came through the phone receiver. “Could you refer to each other by your first names like normal people? Would that be too much to ask?” Suguru tossed a few dirty towels in the bucket next to him, full of empty paint tubes.

“Yes, that is asking for way too much.”

“Whatever!” Utahime barked before huffing out in annoyance. “Look, can you tell my client that I need her to email me the letter of denial for the cottage? She was supposed to send it yesterday.”

Before the beautiful memories of last night that involved lots of shower sex could cloud Suguru’s mind, he repeated Utahime’s words to himself. “Letter of denial? Why? I thought she was waiting to see if she even got accepted or could stay for a few months rather than two years.”

“Yeah, well, the owners only do a two-year lease. They had been holding off on rebooking the cottage for your girlfriend since she had shown interest in it, and they were repairing the roof.” Papers rustled in the background. “But now that the roof is fixed, she only has until the end of the month to sign all the papers for her stay.” The end of the month was tomorrow. “But since she decided to go to Okinawa, she must send in the denial letter. That way, they can lease it to this other couple that is interested.”

Suguru’s mouth felt dry as he sat back on his knees. “Wait, what?” Sensing the shock in his voice, Utahime blinked.

“She declined the offer and went to Okinawa with you.”

So many thoughts flowed in Suguru’s mind as he put the puzzle pieces together. That’s why you were so upset on that first day here, distant and off. You had given up on one of your dreams to help him. It was a complete and utterly unselfish thing for you to do for him.

Suguru loved you so incredibly much that he knew what to do.

“Geto, are you there?”

“Uh yeah! Sorry, hey, about that denial letter, she actually—.”

Ten minutes later, you returned with a bucket and fresh towels. You were praying the pain hadn’t settled into the floor yet; you hadn’t anticipated it would take you this long to get the materials your boyfriend needed to clean up. But the custodian you had run into was nice enough to help you retrieve some towels and cleaning products you could use.

“Sorry it took so long, babe! I told one of the staff members what happened, and they just got me some towels!

You watched as Suguru hung up your phone, placing it back on your table. “Oh, no worries; I got a lot of it up, so cleaning the rest won’t be that big of a deal.” Suguru watched as you dropped to your knees and started wiping up the remaining paint streaks, taking your happy, smiling face in and saving it to his memory because he’d need to remember you like this.

“Say after this, let me take you shopping for some clothes. Maybe a new laptop and stuff.”

“Huh? But why? My laptop is doing okay.”

“Because I want to spoil my girlfriend for a bit.”

Without hesitation or arguments, you let your boyfriend take you to the store and get you some new clothes, more suitcases, and snacks. You thought he wanted to spend a weekend with you, like a movie marathon, on the beach, where you both lazily stared off into the horizon. While you fantasized about the weekend to come in the warm, sunny Okinawa, Suguru’s stomach was twisted in knots.

The whole helping-you with your book agreement started because he didn’t want to lose you. How could he not be with you for two years? When he hadn’t even told you how he felt. But now that you were his girlfriend seeing how devastated you were over the prospect of losing the cottage that inspired you and knowing that you had sacrificed to help him made him realize how selfish he had been. Suguru didn’t want to be the one holding you back. He didn’t want you giving up on your dreams because you were more concerned about him and his happiness. You deserved to see the place that had inspired your book series in person. He couldn’t deny you that right.

So, as you both headed out of the aquarium, bags in hand while your fingers were intertwined, Suguru took a second to look at your face; your eyes wandered over the aquarium tanks, admiring fishes and whales like you every night when leaving. Your happy smile, the way you occasionally steal glances at him, and how you held his hand as tight as you could as you walked out to head back home. Suguru needed to savor every second of this evening with you.

In the morning, Suguru was going to watch you leave for Europe.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[nightdivinity]

Drink Responsibly! Prologue

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only.

Platonic! Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Alcohol, bad choices, stupid choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o fic, there is slight blood and gore, it's a vampire au, age gaps, because they're all significantly older, it's going to get suggestive from here on out, reverse harem, slight proofreading

Writer's Note: I want to thank @sophiethewitch1 for inspiring me and talking me through posting my writing. I hope it doesn't let you down! This is also my first time posting my writing on Tumblr, please be gentle. English is not my first language. Also, this is a why choose fic. So, it's Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian x reader. Maybe even Duke. I think four is a lot. Got to draw the line somewhere. Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow.

It was midnight when you finally stumbled out of the latest club. Your heels were long gone, as you had taken them off the first time they got stuck in a grate. You’re pretty sure you handed them to a nice girl in the bathroom while her friend held your hair as you threw up copious amounts of alcohol and bar food. She had been super nice, you liked the way her short black hair was spiked, and her blonde friend’s eyeliner was superb. Anyways, now you are shoeless and desperately looking for the next bar on your crawl.

Gin’s. Ooh, that’ll do. You reach out and grab your friend’s bicep, point at the neon sign, and do vague gestures. Of course, your friend is not as well off as you are, so it takes a while to get your point across. Only they start crying again over their bullshit bar fling, and the fact you have no shoes.

It didn’t matter, none of it truly mattered. Not a single thing. This was your one night off after weeks of back-to-back grueling shifts at a job that doesn’t care whether you live or die. Yesterday you even took a quick unintentional power nap on the toilet. All of this resulted in you being slightly crazed and a little deranged as your night progressed.

But hey, Gotham just brings that out in people. In your job's defense, no one could take any more sick or inclement weather days thanks to all the random villain attacks next to or at your office. You blame the monthly rut.

At least you didn’t get stuck on the subway taped to a bench by the Riddler this week as he awkwardly rifled through a notebook of pickup lines. Life was certainly looking up.

See, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the propaganda you consumed, you were born an Omega. Which had never truly been an issue. Except for the fact that thanks to a few foul choices from the government, it was getting harder and harder to get access to affordable pheromone blockers. You wouldn’t have even chanced this outing if you hadn’t found that one pill that rolled a little under your cabinet. Hey, you were desperate for a night out.

“I’m going there”, you slur.

Yes, this was asinine, but you still managed to wheel yourself and your friend to Gin’s. You hardly noticed the dark shadows following you as your friends from the bathroom quietly herded you. As you and your friend jaywalked across the street, you didn’t notice the red-headed woman standing in the middle of the road, blocking traffic from actually hitting you. It also barely registered when the nice boy with flashing gold eyes took your hand and led you past the line and directly to the front. This. Was. Your. Night. Out.

“Hey man, she can’t come in here with no shoes”, the bouncer at the door complains.

He was going to say more until he looked at the man holding your hand so nicely. You could hear the slight choking noise, and in your drunken stupor, you stumbled a little into your guide.

“He’s going to shit himself”, you stage-whisper. Or what you think was whispering. You were screaming over the pounding bass spilling out of the door.

                “Shhh, Jackson, she’s with me”, your guide replies.

                “She can come in, her friend can’t. Sorry Duke, they’re way too fucked up”, the bouncer swears.

                You gasp and let go of Duke’s hand, instead reaching for your friend and pulling them tight into your embrace. While smashing their face into your chest. Even though you were the most drunk you’ve ever been, you didn’t miss the spike in pissed-off Alpha vibes that happened around you. Still, you smacked a hand against your friend’s ear in an effort to protect them from what was said. Then you got sidetracked by their hair. It reminded you that you wanted a pet. Although with your work and class schedule, it would probably die in a week. Three days tops. At least you had your emotional support friend.

                “I can’t leave them alone”, you say.

                “Hun, how about I call them an Uber, they look like they’re ready to pass out. They definitely can’t handle it anymore”, Duke replies.

                He gestures towards your friend, and you notice how they’re slowly swaying on their feet. Eyes half closed. Shit. It would be shitty if you left them passed out somewhere in the bar as you danced and drank. They were already on their fourth wind and fading fast.

                “Look, you see this nice car”, Duke continues.

                He turns you three, and suddenly you notice the nice black town car next to the road. You vaguely register the fact that it’s one of those high-roller cars. Ones that only the richest in Gotham could afford.

                “See, this is Killian, he works for Wayne Enterprises. He’ll make sure your friend makes it home. I’ll even have him text you when they get there. Won’t that be nice? You don’t have to worry at all (y/n).”, he tells you.

                You nod, and it all makes sense somehow in your drunken brain. He knows your name, so obviously you know him. He also knows your friend, since he rattles off their address and gently pries them from your clutches before handing them off to Killian.

You pay no mind to the mention of a name that would have sent shivers down your spine normally. Wayne. Mysterious and dangerous to all who get involved.

                “I need them back, don’t sell their organs”, you warn.

                Then he gives you a tight brisk smile as he turns away from you. A persistent thought is starting to nag its way through the cotton in your head. The slightest unsettling feeling. Maybe there was something wrong with that blocker pill you found on the floor of your kitchen. You were certainly feeling as though there were a lot of pissed-off Alphas near you. The undercurrent of anger was a tang you couldn’t escape. More and more you felt the need to run somewhere dark and quiet to hide.

                You ignore the persistent tugging by Duke as you watch your friend get loaded into the car and driven away. Well. That ends that.

                The next time Duke tugs on your hand, it causes you to slightly stagger. He easily catches you and spins you around and through the door before you can protest.

                “Can I have a Rum and Coke?”, you shout over the music.

                “Yeah totally”, Duke shouts back.

                It’s only until you are tugged past the bar that you realize that everything is not all sunshine and daisies. No. No. This is wrong. You want to go back.

                You put your heels in. Duke was not ready for resistance as your hand slid out of his grasp on the way to the V.I.P. section. He turns around to get a better hold of you, only to watch you slip into the crowd and get lost in the sea of swaying bodies. Fuck. He was told to bring you to them. You still had to be here, there’s no way you could have bumbled off far. Shit. One job.

                Duke ran a palm over his face as he scanned the crowd. There’s no doubt in his mind. Bruce was going to be pissed. He wasn’t supposed to know about your little excursion out. Everyone had agreed, they would watch over you as the day turned. You still weren’t used to Gotham; you didn’t know the sort of creatures that came out during the night. While the rest of the world was happy and filled with normal and meta shifters, Gotham was overflowing with the less-than-stable. All more than happy to take a bite out of the innocent. The only thing that kept it in check was the unspoken King and his disgraced hellions.

If you had been sober, you would have noticed the people slowly disappearing from the crowd. You would have noticed that tonight was absolutely not a good night to be out. One by one, shrieks of fear and pain were mistaken for fun. Jostling in the crowd was hardly registered as the violence spread. The whole night, you were in a sea of sharks feeding. Now you had finally ditched what you didn’t know was your only protection.

                 Not to worry, fear splashes hot and cold against your nerves as sharp claws grip your arm, your back slamming into the bar as a distended jaw hisses open in front of you.

                Yeah. Maybe you should have been drinking responsibly.

[fluorynn]

✮⋆˙ 🩻 — 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐥. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

✮⋆˙ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : lo’ak 〤 omaticayan!reader

✮⋆˙ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : in which 4 years have passed after the incident. Change was normal to occur, but so was loss and grievance within that change. Change was something that had occurred within the youngest Sully boy when the RDA returned, when he had to flee from home and leave you behind, when the incident happened. When the Sullys returned after two years, Lo’ak instantly seeked for you, yet you’ve noticed he had changed both for the better and worse, and sometimes, most days, it had become for the worst. You’d given him many warnings throughout the year, as both of you have now reached adulthood and have committed to a relationship that at first begun with the constant lovesickness for one another, never ending touches, stolen kisses, but that was when you were mere teenagers, and as time went by, as change and grief and war came upon you, your relationship took a shift. Harsher he became, more reckless, impulsive, ignorant, inconsiderate, yet he promised he’d change for you. After every act and word, he promised to search within himself, within the past to try and find the Lo’ak he once was, the proper mate you deserved soon, the Lo’ak who you adored with your entire soul. Yet if you were to be sincere, you knew that after all these major events that happened to Lo’ak and after the months of not seeing him, he would not be the same, especially after the loss of Neteyam. You wanted to hang onto the sliver of hope, of sanity for yourself, because Lo’ak had not been the only one to have lost something, someone, yet it seemed that everyone always excused him for his behavior, nobody cared, especially Lo’ak. He was constantly out flying, ‘on patrol’, never returning to the hideout the Omaticaya People still had to endure, and his excuses only became more and more unreasonable. His father said the boy’s just under a lot of pressure, Kiri said he’d come around, but Neytiri did not; while she too grief, she too experienced major changes, it did not give her son the excuse to treat you with such heartless behavior. You loved Lo’ak, and you loved him ultimately and beyond compare. You loved him too much however, to the point where it blinded you from seeing the harsh reality that this indeed was not your Lo’ak anymore. The strong substance your people had, he somehow always found a way to consume it, practically reek of it without his family knowing — and you didn’t dare ‘rat’ him out. He wasn’t yours anymore, and every ounce of pain, of grief, of sadness you felt for him soon disintegrated. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, he was supposed to be the one bound to be your mate when the time came. But now, it seemed that he wasn’t suitable for you, and while 14 year old you promised his 14 year old self to never leave, you realized now why promises wound up empty. Everyone reaches a breaking point, and you are now finally acting upon it.

✮⋆˙ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : aged up!lo’ak, ANGST, 18+, thigh riding, fingering, grinding, mild kuru play?, overstimulation, soft!lo’ak, teasing, drinking/alcoholism — lo’ak’s insecure, stubborn, harsh and grieving still but masks it a bit well, reader is slightly sensitive, fed up w him, gives in to one more chance w him tho — italics in dialogue signifies they’re speaking Na’vi!

✮⋆˙ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : pretty long, lol

✮⋆˙ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @lilghostiequinni @pandoraslxna @avatarloverfrfr @strongheartneteyam @talanyra

✮⋆˙ author’s note : Just in my feelings rn, LMAO. Neteyam series prologue will be posted soon ( hopefully….I just want to make sure it’s good and there’s enough but not too much detail to give away what may happen in future chapters — it’s one of those things where I’ve written the following chapters just not the one I should have actually put time in😭 —) but just thought I’d drop this — Lo’ak lovers, rise up! I hope you like it! Please don’t hesitate to comment, reblogs are appreciated! <33

“Good. You are up here.” You aree met with his back facing you mere feet away, the unkempt pattern of his stripes and the tense rise of his shoulders is more than enough for you to know it is him, especially when knowing that this spot is the single one reserved for him. Lo'ak Sully was left in a state of utter bewilderment, a feeling he thought he had long surpassed. Over the years, he had honed and heightened each of his senses to such an extent that no ordinary being could startle him anymore. However, you were no ordinary being, and that was precisely what captivated him. Your ability to always bewilder and astonish him in unexpected ways kept him constantly alert and intrigued.

He gave a subtle glance to the object in his hold — a minor wooden cup filled to the brim with an alcoholic beverage — naer — one the Na’vi can smell before even spotting it for its scent is strong, vigor. At this point, there is no trying to hide or deny it from you. Even if he did try to throw it off the large branches he sat upon, the scent would be there, reeking around and on him. He had given you the vacant promise to back away from it, or very least try to yet make no effort in doing so. This drink that, while it tips one over for a bit of time, it also deprived feelings you could no longer do. Whatever had happened in his life, each burning drop down his throat and to his mind managed to fix for a minimum amount of time. Of course Lo’ak would not give this up — the opportunity to not feel anything to the bone.

“Your father said you did not show up for your training.” Your tone of voice was deficient of its common disappointment and despair, simply uttering as if you didn’t spare a care for it anymore.

“My father should learn to mind his own business and worry more about leading his People and fixing the damage done from the Sky People.” Lo’ak finally spoke, voice curt and Na’vi language gaining a thickness as he heard your subtle footsteps against branches. “I am not a child anymore.”

“You are right. You are not. But he is still your father, he worries for you. So does your mother.” You reminded him as if it were not known, reaching your spot next to his sitting frame only to see what you have already suspected in his hold, taking in his physical state.

“Yeah well, he shouldn’t. He has no reason to, and neither does she.” His quip made your lips squirm down but said nothing as you observed the drink in his hand, the way his ear flitted from his own words, from your words in adding onto that his mother worries. A quirk settled between your browline but held your tongue for you did not want to start some meaningless quarrel. But Lo’ak could feel the distaste radiating from you, how you’re fighting the urge to scold him for his incapability to uphold his fair share of promises. What he doesn’t understand is why have you not done so?

“You look very pretty. Sevin ( pretty ).” He softly stated.

A small smile was all to be offered — one filled with slight remorse. His legs had been dangling down the edge of the thick glowing lodge, and you pondered on doing the same as you have always done since you were children; swinging them above the small lake of water at the same pace he would, teasing him with a light nudge of your foot. But this time was different. Instead, you settle beside him, knees bent beneath you and slightly tilted your body towards him. Lo’ak’s blazing irises scrutinized you the way he typically does, recognizing the strain your shoulders formed, as if you were on edge because of him. So, he took one more small swig of the liquid before his face started inclining forward to plant a light kiss on your lips. One that was fleeting – everything tied or related to Lo’ak was always fleeting.

Lo’ak’s lips very often suffused your mind from thought, so incongruous from right and wrong.

One moment Lo’ak offered his physical affections and pretty words.

The next, not even a split moment, he was the cause of your suffering stars.

You now pondered where exactly this little act would land the both of you in.

You were the first to retract away from Lo’ak, not wanting to fall into his patterned act. The kind of act of loving Lo’ak too destructively that overflowed everything with a single touch, and tug you back into him.

“What iss wrong?” He inquired, dark brows quirking.

Your coils lightly sway at the head shake given, yet he knew before you could have a chance to verbally utter the lie. “Lying is not a good look for you.”

“I am not lying.” You were quick to snip out before you could contain your tone, palms pressing into your thighs that indicated the falseness of your words.

“Right.” His eyes rolled and bit, “There’s something you would like to say?”

You can’t help but blink a few times. This was an opening, to say what was in your chest. “Srane ( yes ).”

A hum of boredom rang through the air. “You could have just said that then. No need to take the hard way around.” His golden eyes were drawn to the liquid in his hold, watching its faint glow swirl with the light flick of his wrist, and you wondered just how far gone was he. Normally, Lo’ak would have some sort of facade going on, one that’s filled with his now dry jokes and teasing smiles despite the fact that the both of you knew it was just a show. Yet now, he was unfazed by your presence as he brought the cup to his lips, throat bobbing with the largest swings he took.

Perhaps if you were standing, you might’ve tipped over and fallen into the lake. He simply saw it written in bold letters right across your face. “I am not here to fight with you.” You quietly started.

“Then don’t.”

An exhale flared your cat-like nose at his crossed tone. “Okay, I will not but I am going to need you to drop whatever tone it is you are trying to achieve with me, Suli.” Lo’ak, despite the abrupt changes spiking in him, was still your Lo’ak, so when he heard your warning, his ears pinned down by the sides of his head and eyes strayed to the ground below as an act of regret. This gave you some sliver of hope.

Not necessarily did you want Lo’ak to be unstable or uncertain with himself, it made you quite content that he has grown into his fierceness. What was bothersome to you were his drastic changes, and it seemed what once went as two souls that twined perfectly for one another was now misplaced — your presence within his life was not necessary any longer. The intoxication he was constantly washed in came with a smell too strong for your liking, too nauseating, too overwhelming for your senses. Tears swelled up in your eyes, yet you contained them. “I had thought you were going to quit.”

“If we are speaking truthfully, I told you I would try.” He corrected, smug voice paired with a stupid smirk.

“Hm, and have you?” You retorted and his brows hitched beneath his two thin cascades of braids. “Have you tried to quit?”

“And you have got proof that I haven’t?” You despised this, despised the person he’d become, despise that he seemed to knew precisely what he was doing and didn’t give two fucks about it.

“Let us see — there is Kiri, there is Spider, oh there is even Tuk who tells me this!” Your voice carried a feign sweetness and surprise, watching how his brows crashed together with your sneered words. “This is the brother you wish for them to see? This is the person you want your future People to see, Lo’ak? Their possible future leader, the Tippling Olo’eyktan?”

“And what the hell is it to you, huh? We already know I am not suited to be Leader.” His spiking temper was one to shut you up, but you did not fail to notice the light lash his tail made. “You are not my mother, you are not Tsahik, and you are certainly not my mate. I do not need you worrying over me. And I do not need your constant annoying questions.” Your body shuddered, more so because of the harshness of his tone rather than the biting air. Your knees dug into the branch’s crippled surface, fingers winding into fists as your eyes quickly averted from him. Eywa was witness to the sensitivity you had gain over the years, the years Lo’ak happened to be in.

“It is not common for some warm body to ask this much from their future Olo’eyktan either.”

Lo’ak’s added on words striked you with force, causing you to physically and instinctively recoil from the sharp sting of it. The deep slice within your heart, cleanly tearing into two parts. Perhaps in some pieces, some hindsight, it could have been described as that if you did not add onto the fact that the both of you grew up together, the fact that he did not have the simplicity of courage to call you by the true title he once proudly uttered you as; his. His bound-to-be mate, his love.

“A warm body? That is all I am to you?” You questioned, and Lo’ak — rethinking whether his mistake was to tell you the definition of those words in human terms or perhaps the true, more common mistake he noticed that was clearly etched in his features — gained regret behind those lax-colored eyes of his. But it was masked, tightly trapped beneath this filthy portrayal of pride, egotistical, brash and reckless man. Not even a man, a boy.

“Lo’ak!”

Instead of giving you a proper answer, he threw you a side glance, one filled with provocation. The scoff emerging from your throat was inevitable, and you nodded. If this was how he wished to act, then fine. It will make the forthcoming situation much easier for you then. The only way to get through with this was if you treat him as if he was nothing to you. “We must speak.”

Push through the heartache, the pain, the way it tore you apart. You must start to truly see him for who he was in this present moment.

And what you saw was not your Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was listening, you could tell by how his ears slightly flitted up, but he said nothing. Simply awaiting for you to proceed as he took another sip.

“I…” You felt the affliction that tried clawing its way up your throat, your eyes fixating on the ground and you stayed quiet for a while.

“Just spill it already.”

“I have come to say goodbye, Lo’ak.” His slamming shock is beyond thrilling. You had been seeking for some, any type of sign that would prove Lo’ak’s care for you — and perhaps this was the answer; the high perch of his ears, the broadening of his eyes, the hitched breath. Nonetheless, it was too late. He had created his situation, and now he would have to accept the consequences.

“What do you mean g-goodbye?” He stammered, and the cup was now abandoned and falling to the ground that was far below the both of you.

“Ah, so now you can speak!”

“Enough,” he inhaled deeply. “And answer the question.” The audacity this skxawng had. You are firmer with your words “Srane. Goodbye, Lo’ak.”

“And where exactly are you going? And when exactly were you going to tell me?” He spat out in distaste and disapproval, body fully turning towards you.

“The Tipani Clan.” You responded with an edge of sass. “I am telling you right now, aren’t I?”

His response was immediate, loud and he shook his head despite your answer was to be expected, knowing that one of your deceased parents descended from there. “The Tipani Clan? What about—” He halted his sentence from speaking of himself, of how if you left, you would be tearing away a part of him and taking it with you. But fear of vulnerability halted him from doing so, so instead he dodged it. “What about your duties here? I thought you promised to be here for your People in case the Sky People returned. To help rebuild.”

“Lo’ak, I am telling you that I am leaving and all you care about speaking is duty? Are you serious?” He instead looked away from you, too stubborn to answer, so you said his name again. He ignored you.

“Lo’ak, fucking look at me.” It was the rarity of hearing you speak English and the vulgar word thrown in the mix that caught Lo’ak’s attention, gold orbs flickering towards you in an instant and you immediately notice the diversity of emotion pooling them.

“So all that matters to you, is my duty to the Omaticaya? For me to not be here as a fixer upper for them? You only care about that being broken instead of this? Is that the only thing that matters in that head of yours?”

No. The response was, should have been a fierce no. You were constantly, always in Lo’ak’s head. He yearned for you extravagantly, and besides staying alive for the sake of his family, you were one of the few things he could find himself caring for. There would be many cold and curt swears to never trust, to never care or love after losing someone who not only qualified as a good mate, but a loving one, is what Lo’ak thought, he knew it. If you left him — when you left him, he would be done with it, with the twinge of good, of hope. He would be completely shut off from ever seeking a mate to be bonded with under Eywa’s will, he would not care of continuing the legacy of his name despite him now being the only son. His heart, the heart you once saw as fearless and strong, would be guarded by much thicker, massive walls, and that small space left would only become constricted by the waves of his tears. While you were everything to him, you were not sufficient enough to spare him the grief. At least not alone.

While he has grown, while he has sculpted his abilities and became nearly as mighty as his big brother, under all that was still a broken, hurt boy filled with guilt. He could not allow himself to get rid of that part of himself. He could not shed enough tears to move past everything that happened, that he had seen and lost.

Lo’ak loved you, he is deeply in love with you. And perhaps another thing that has changed was that he could not depend everything on you. No one should carry the responsibility of one’s whole happiness. There is no fairness in that.

So instead he found need in other things, distractions despite it being selfish. He needed to fly because it could get him away from the ground and connect to the closest thing that felt like Neteyam, he needed to drown himself in that alcohol the Na’vi made because it drowned away all the pain and misery his family went through, the burden to try and add up to something, someone he will never be able to fill. But while he was engulfed himself in all that, he could pretend that his family was not broken. That it was the same, once happy family it once was 5 years ago. The one that still had Neteyam’s presence, the one that still had a father rather than a commanding leader. In this minor haven of numbness, he could still pretend that those once fond memories were fresh, remembered the way they were supposed to be reminisced. He could not just let it go.

Meanwhile, Lo’ak’s silence was tearing you apart, fragmenting your heart into pieces. But now you knew, you saw the truth. You could not keep a desperate grasp around old words and acts anymore, for now they were faint. Empty. Pointless gifts of a said courting that was going nowhere. Loving phrases and charming grins he more than knew could accomplish in capturing your heart.

But now it was clear as day that it meant nothing to Lo’ak. You meant nothing to Lo’ak. He did not love you as much as you loved him.

His throat cleared, and thickly spoke in English. “Your place is here, Y/N.” His eyes refused to meet yours, jaw narrowed enough to demonstrate he was clearly upset, though you’ are not certain why.

“It was.” The correction you gave his words finally made everything click. His gaze lingered on the lake’s neon glow before lifting to look at you, trying to catch your own. The pretty decorated braids that framed his face moved with the motion of his head slanting to the side. He repeated your word, squinting before shaking his head and more so whispering to himself, “You’re leaving.”

Sharply exhaling, you finally uttered, “I am also here to end things between us, Lo’ak.”

Again, he was bewildered, and the cut breath he released made it known. Eyes darted over each feature upon your face, as if trying to commit it all into his memory, panic slowly seeping within him. “Can … I can say something, right?” His tone still carried its infamous jeer, but you suppose that was the last you deserved. You were the first to engage in this conversation. When you grant him the permission to speak, he wasted no second in taking advantage of it.

“W-where’s this coming from?”

You’re more than certain more inquiries will follow, and one or two questions will satisfy his little interrogation.

“What’s the motive behind all this, huh? How long you’ve been planning this, to leave me?” Lo’ak’s voice was one that never faltered nowadays — he, much like his father, was a fierce speaker. You knew that Lo’ak did not like to be kept in the unknown, in hiding. But now his voice was rather meek. His once honed gaze turned rounder, emphasizing that he may cry. What you despised most in this moment, was that it unphased you. Before this, all the trouble and conflict spiking between you and your Lo’ak, his tears were your least favorite thing in this entire existence. Out of everyone, you once believed Lo’ak was the least of them all to deserve the brim of tears. That he deserved happiness. The sight of them always managed to tear you bit by bit with every fallen droplet, and now it hardly mattered. While you do still very much believe that he indeed deserved happiness, you have reached your limit. You have devastatingly accepted that you could not restore that happiness in Lo’ak.

“Few weeks. A month maybe.” You answered faintly. You use the best of your abilities to keep a firm composure. It would be miserable to cry, especially right then and there. Lo’ak stumbled through his repetition of your answer, dubiety twisting your features, mind and heart. You cannot seem to comprehend the sudden shift of his act. The authentic perplex and strain to recall what went wrong as if he never saw this coming from you.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, Y/N—” His long arms extended, touch reaching to collide with you, yet he reluctantly retracted back as if he had been scorched by some blazing flame of a barrier around you. He repeated his apology, scrambling to try and find whatever pieces he has broken and bring them back together while trying with all his strength to not lose his damn mind. “Lemme fix this — y-you have to let me fix this, okay?”

His voice is desperate, pleading, and it was as if he is speaking without wanting to hear reason. Lo’ak may not be known for his smartness, but he was clever with certain things. To you, Lo’ak was everything. But even so, that usual thick headed mind of his was unable to get himself out of this one.

“Y/N, we can — it’s fixable.” His head was repeatedly bobbing up and down, and it told you that perhaps you have brought him out of his drunken state. Brought him back to Pandora, at least for a split moment, you thought.

“I think it is too late now, ma Lo’ak.” His eyes shuttered and he let out a quivered exhale.

“Baby, don’t say that, please—” He reached for you again, this time pushing through the fear and on with it. He could not help the slightness of grimace upon him when his hands cut into your self-obtained space, and it was then that he realized why that burn had been a great protection for you.

Anxious, panic-stricken he was, digits winding around the bareness of your hips and wastes no second in tugging you upon his lap. “Please…just give me one more chance a-and let me fix this, yeah? Baby?”

The expanse of his palms quivered when they lifted to your cheeks, your own gripping the taut muscles of his shoulder blades to maintain your balance, to keep yourself steady from the plead within his green-speckled hues. The air surrounding Lo’ak reeked of that forsaken alcohol, entangled through his braids, the essence of his blue flesh, his accessories.

You take him in; the faint violet flushed beneath the sockets of his eyes, the drain that highly beseeched at you with every syllable tumbling from his cloying lips. “I’m….fuck.” His breathing was escalating; more turbulent, almost hysterical as he tried retaining every part of you inside of himself.

Without your willingness, you are gently moved, yet still, your form remained unyielding.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and you know that.” His softly hushed words are right. You knew he meant them. While Lo’ak’s emotional avoidance over the last few years had been quite a lot, it did not make him exceedingly insensitive. He was full of many pretty words, but never once did he utter abundant words into existence without purpose. But what you only wished for was that he’d been able to say them sooner. Could have been swarmed with the realization and recognition of you before you had made it to the edge of the cliff above the depths. All that was left for you to do in order to escape was to take the act in plummeting. To end things with Lo’ak, to start anew with your own life.

It is unattainable, you arere more than convinced that this is the end of the path for the both of you. Even with that said forged in your mind, you nodded still. Purposeless it was to see him in this state of franticity and fear of the prospect of losing you burdening your heart. You may feel repentant later on, but you are to leave once this is finished, once this is over with and you would never return to the Omaticaya. Lo’ak was to be an experience of your past. He would hate you then, hate you for an eternity for what you were to do, but you knew he would be okay. What he needed was his family. To fix those cracks, to patch those injuries. To improve himself, Lo’ak must and will find a way to find his true self beneath all those layers of resentment and suffering.

That was all that ceased to matter.

“I can fix this? You’ll let me?” You nodded once more, but he did the opposite in an act of disapproval. “Nah, I need to hear it. Let me hear you.” His voice was glazed with true, raw pain, something you haven’t heard from him in such a long time. “Please, Y/N…”

“You can fix this, ma Lo’ak.”

“Y-you promise me that?” He questioned, and for a moment you faltered. It’d be much more deceiving for him to know you were lying. So you do not, and instead you let the tips of your four fingers stray to the nape of his neck and pull him into a kiss. And in this moment, you knew that you had never loved with such depth, such fervor with every fiber in your being.

You were aware that once you vanished from here, the fractures etched in your heart would scorch, ablaze to the point where you would feel every flicker and pain. With that being said, you poured it all into this one kiss, one that seized every ounce of respiration from his lungs. Vehementing it was. Vehementing you are, of course. His mind is nebulous; hazy, too fucked over — but you are here. In amidst the turmoil of an inner war, you. He loves you profoundly, and he knows you well. Well enough to know what the next day would bring. He knew why you were contributing to this, why you were granting him the belief that his pathetic attempt of resolution would be enough.

You love Lo’ak as well.

The thought of facing a day without your presence gracing his life churns his chest with a crushing sense of loss, the palpitating organ within bending and compressing as if some being had reached and tried bending it to their own taunting will. He must give you everything, he has to give you everything, risk it all, and perhaps it would be sufficient. This time it is Lo’ak who retreated from you, dark lashes fluttering against the warmth of your cheek while his eyes perused over your face just one more time.

“You know that no matter where you go, you’ll always be mine.” His words are not a question, more so a statement of persistence and certainty the both of you felt and knew deep within your bones.

“You do understand, yeah?” You could hardly form a verbal response, though you do not give him the opportunity to bask in his little glory, and instead your hands, the ones currently on his shoulders, slide to the beaded necklaces encasing his toned neck, fingers tangling through them. “If you are going to do something, get on with it.”

Lo’ak cannot help the soft smirk hoisting his cheek at your clipped tone and grumbles, “Impatient much?” Candidly speaking, this was perhaps the closest he was to being himself. That brilliant smile you haven’t seen in so long resisting the urge to be the prime focus of attention. A pity, really, for you.

“You still trust me?” He notices your indecisiveness. He does not give you time to respond for he soon adds on, “Like this?” and that almost immediately changes the answer. The adapted pads of his fingers graze down the dip of your neck and to the elegant line of your collarbone, peering down your figure. “Do you trust me enough to have you like this?”

Your chin slightly dips bashfully as you nod. His brows draw together and hisses in a breath. “I wanna hear you say it then. Make this easier for the both of us.” Your delicate beaded chest piece subtly heaves from the ascent your chest makes, and he could not help but laugh, eyes crescent-shaping with the sound, at your irritated voice.

“I trust you, Lo’ak.”

“Good.” he mutters softly beneath his breath while letting his hands fall and secure themselves to your hips.

Yes, good, you repeat the single word in your own mind.

“You’d give yourself to me right here, right now?” He question, and you stutter at this. It was not the upmost ideal thing, for this spot practically belonged to you and Lo’ak was perhaps the most reserved place within the Forest since you were children. But it was the Forest, and you never knew who from the People could be wandering around. The thought of someone stumbling upon you and the Olo’eyktan’s son out in the open petrified you.

Though it seemed your pussy thought otherwise and did not mind one bit of this idea.

“S-srane ( yes ).” Firm is your word, and it pleases Lo’ak. Muscle memory it became when his palms create a path upwards from your hips. Palms that hold such tenderness as they splay up your stomach, blunt nails beginning to faintly engrave themselves into the azure flesh of your waist, soon following your midsection to endearingly trace over the pretty stripes decorated there.

The strokes he causes make you squirm in his lap, body curling slightly to the side and your nose twitches cutely. “Lo’ak, enough—” your plea goes ignored once more by him.

“Do y’know how pretty you are?” Lo’ak’s words cause your heart to skip a rather large beat. Curse his idiotic mouth, curse him. Curse his abilities to have you melt with a single breath of his lungs.

“Our People always speak about the Great Mother’s beauties. Saying how she spent a great deal on Pandora,” You didn’t hesitate to listen, even despite the light acts created from his touch that have your abdomen twitching.

“But gosh, I think you’ve bested her.” He exhales almost breathlessly, as if the weight of his words are too grand and exquisite from being spoken to existence, to you. You see nothing but sincerity in his face, blinking rapidly when he taps your hip and utters, “Take it off now.”

His demand left no inch of a room for a disagreement, so without further hesitation, you hitch yourself a bit up while wobbly fingers perch down and into the weaves of your tewng, slipping the garment off. You more than know that when he meant to take it off, he meant to discard everything — such as your little chest piece. But almost as if it were a challenge, you do not. This draws a chuckle out of Lo’ak and you roll your eyes despite settling back down on his thigh.

His mouth moving hot against yours, and for a second your entire world stills, the remaining fragments of your heart plummeted, the wild fluttering as the single thing inside of you capable of sustaining life. Your ache, your beautiful, throbbing, lifelong ache dwindles for a moment as Lo’ak’s mouth meshes with yours. He kisses you fiercely, fingers brushing the lower swell of your breast, breathing existence back into your being, and it is then that you moaned lowly for him.

When he rips his mouth away from your own, it is when his fingers found their way down the dips of your stomach, outlining the lower section, soon curling around the upper muscle of your thighs to part them just a bit more, dragging two deftly fingers through the growing mess between.

“Even when that pretty head of yours wanna hate me, this body can’t resist me, hm?” He retracts his hand as he speaks, long enough to glide those two fingers between his lips, humming contently around them before pulling them out. They were profusely coated with his spit, making it such an effortless task to increase the mess worse. Its pads nudge back and forth between your slit, occasionally granting nurturing circles to your nub. Your mind is becoming warped within the lust, back to clutching onto his shoulders for steadiness.

Your nails puncture the muscles there with the longing to grind against something, anything. “You’re so damn wet, mamas.” The foreign nickname has force in tearing out a sharp gasp from your throat, and he huffs out a chuckle while absorbing all the moist sensation.

“ ‘m gonna have you all fucked up on my fingers, then some more with my dick, how does that sound?” The sensation of his dark plaits graze your cheek, lips adding on when they brush your flickering ear. “You want that, Y/N/N/?”

You could not do anything more than whine, allowing your hips to wind forward in hence to catch every languid swipe of his slim fingers against you. Your body quaking, head pummeling as you paddle near the pleasure.

Pleasure which you more than know was not healthy. It is as if adding a single aid to a severe wound. The following day, you will detest yourself to the core for giving into this thrilling temptation; the thrusts he gives your tightened cunt, the kisses shared between your swollen mouths, the caresses given to your skin, all of this would create much more difficulty for you to move on.

Lo’ak’s fingers waste no time in swatting against your swollen clit, pads of each digit rubbing gingerly over. Sensitive it is, every swipe causing your entire body to stutter.

You could feel more arousal oozing out of your cunt, adhering to Lo’ak’s constricting thigh. His flesh will be tainted with your slick, his dangling braids and pretty coils will be ruined with every slight tug given by the time you were done. Though he cannot not bring himself to care about it, he cannot let you go at this moment, he cannot not ever bring himself to do it.

The momentum of his overworked digits is lethal, you will be culminating in a matter or seconds. The hand currently entangled within Lo’ak’s hair suddenly disappear to slide down the base of his thick queue, fingers delicately curling around the sensitivity while you begin to subtly gyrate your hips forward, the stimulation becoming much more direct and effective.

Though the act made from your dainty touch causes his jaw to go slack, pupils engulfing the golden pools of his eyes as a soft hiss whispered from his mouth.

"Look at you go, baby…" Tongue peeks out just to glide over his honed incisors before teasingly reaching forward to lightly bite your pouting lower lip, gaze never tearing from yours, and you see it : everything is what you are to him.

The brimming of your orgasm deepen inside the center of your lower belly, spiraling bit by bit. “Hey, no, look at me, mamas.” His tone is low but beseeching, words practically breathing into you, directing you to obey his plea despite the violent desire to let your head slant back if it weren’t for another one of his pleas catching you, voice caressing the tethers of your soul.

“Please look at me, sevin. Lemme see you when you fall apart for me, yeah?” And it is then that you were reminded of your thoughts from earlier.

How fucking perilous Lo’ak’s mouth could be.

“Ma L-Lo’ak—” His name is uttered in a whine, clutch becoming firmer around the single braid of his as you compel yourself to remain in eye contact with the Sully son. He squirms yet does not reprove you and continues his work between your legs despite the building-up ache bulging between his own, three fingers dipping lower to gather more slick before adding it to his pattern against your throbbing clit.

“I-I’m close,” you huff out, and Lo’ak nods deliberately, the subtle movement of his pleading face mesmerizing you. “C’mon, lemme see it happen. Lemme see what I do to you, how good I make you feel, hm?”

"Hmm— L-Lo’ak, I am near, y-you are going to make me cum…" Perhaps you are nearly driven to tears when Lo’ak crane his neck forward again, though this time his lips peck over the pink contours of your scrunched nose first. Sweet, loving kisses falling over each star-like speck across your cheeks, beginning to create a path all over your face.

“You are doing so, so good for me. Always so fucking sweet to me." His breathy muttering ought you to look away abashed, flustered.

"You love the boy you knew, don't you?"

"You are not a boy anymore — y-you are grown, you are to be Olo’eyktan o-one day." You remind him curtly, words tumbling from your lips as you try focusing more towards your pleasure.

"Nah, no." His head shakes, the two braids aligned to each of his cheeks swaying from the motion. "Grown — Grown Lo’ak is very different from boy Lo’ak, isn't he?"

Your heart cannot help but falter at this, a muskiness kissing your waterline, blinding your senses as you stare at him solemnly. "I love every version of you, ma Lo’ak. I just love you."

Agitation suddenly crumbles his pretty features, and brokenly whispers, “Then why are you choosing to leave me?"

You truly do want to answer him despite the way your heart nearly plummets to your stomach, yet it is difficult to. His lips sweetly find their place over your face again, prickling your flesh as if pointed needles.

“L-Lo’ak." He merely hums at the low warning, nuzzling against your flushed cheekbone. "It’s okay, just go ahead mamas. I know."

"Cum for me, you've been so good, sevin. My pretty girl." Your chest heaves overwhelmingly, the tips of your ears flirting with each of the pretty, earnest words he reiterates, swelling the urge for you to sob. "Perfect and pretty. The only girl, my only babygirl."

And perhaps you will sob.

"All you have always done is take care of me, huh? But who takes care of you?" His working hand drags up, and the sudden act caused you to jolt. Lo’ak’s free arm and hand, however, waste no second in coiling around your midsection in order to keep you from moving away.

"Just wanna make it up to you, tìyawn. Just tell me that's what you want from me." He beseeches, nose nuzzling into the line of your trembling jaw.

“Y-yes, that is what I want, ma Lo’ak. Please, please, please. T-Take care of me — make me cum— make it up t-to me, Lo’ak, please." A moan rumbles in the center of your throat for Lo’ak feels it when his lips twist upwards into a wide grin. “Then do it — c’mon, cum for me, baby. Let it out…”

He did not need to instruct it twice for you come in an instant. It washes over with a moan, long and broken, your head seizing forward and into the crevice of said neck and broad shoulder. Damped lips are immediate to latch onto the future Olo’eyktan’s neck, biting, suckling, and softly licking the striped flesh, body quivering as you are thrown over the edge.

Your walls twitch around a vacant place, and Lo’ak kneads your abused nub through the aftershocks as the pearlescent proof of your release pools out of your cunt. "Fuuck, my pretty girl, doing so damn good for me." He croons sweetly, the long length of his lashing tail somehow finding its way to tenderly coil around the thigh clenched by his side.

You faintly feel the swift movements of his hands reaching down to fiddle with his own tewng, yet the dread is too heavy for you to react.

It is only then when you realize that Lo’ak was not stopping his tempting assault that you found the strength to peer hazily down at where your pussy and Lo’ak’s fingers met. He is still playing with you, flexing digits coating themselves in your sweet essence before ramming them right into your much sensitive hole.

He is immediate in starting at a brutal pace, so engrossed in searching for the spot that will have you squirting all over him.

"L-Lo’ak, Lo’ak, no w-wait, please— " Yet he has decided to not listen to your cries. Not even looking at your face, no, his gaze was enthralled with the way his fingers are digging you out, the way you swallow them whole, nearly becoming one with them.

"No, you must take it. You can take it.” He forewarns but your head is shaking in denial, a sob flying out your mouth. “K-Kehe ( no ). I-I can’t, m-ma Lo’ak—”

“But you can, baby. I know you can.” His brows furrow softly together, brushing against your browline as his forehead kisses yours. “And you know how I know that? Hmm?”

Stammers are the only that manage to form. “Because I know you, Y/N. I am the only one who knows you better.” He feeds you the answer he had been seeking for and your chin juts up and down. “Or am I not, mamas?”

“Y-yes, L-Lo’ak, it is you — just you.” A chuckle proudly spews from him. “And who knows this pretty pussy better than me?” Hips jerk forward, whining with a gasp at the harsh deepness of his digits. Your grip on his queue releases, palms scattering out and planting on each side of Lo’ak’s angular face as you keep his attention locked towards you.

“N-no one, ma Lo’ak. N-no one—”

Lo’ak nods firmly, “That’s what I thought, baby. Now, let me treat her the way she deserves to be treated, okay?” His mouth brushes over your lush one, yet didn’t necessarily grant you the yearn of a kiss. Not as he notices the subtle flash of upset striking your face.

“Just one more chance for tonight.” He adds after a pause. “You’ll let me have her for tonight, won’t you, Y/N?”

You whine shamelessly, “Y-yes, o-oh … P-please, Lo’ak—”

“That’s the Y/N I know,” His praise goes by tenderly while the act between your legs is entirely distinct, much more carving, exhilaratingly burning you. “My Y/N, my girl.”

Your pussy is well acquainted with the feel of Lo’ak’s touch, a rather hefty debate between said cock and fingers. Every single adapted ridge, divot, arch. Always, always taking him so well, so eagerly, prettily desperate for Lo’ak.

"You're so wet." He grunts, pupils dilating in awe from the brief yet sufficient enough glance given to the drenching mess. "Need you to tell me how it feels."

“So good, Lo-Lo’ak. You make me feel so, so good." Lo’ak likes you like this, all in a drunken daze, vocals all garbled up.

"You gonna cum, mamas?" You cannot even answer, not as your body actively chases every thrust. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers so good. Jeesh, you're so damn perfect." He rasps lovingly, "Love having you like this…you’re everything to me, you know that?”

The words are meant more to himself, yet you hear him all the same. “L-Lo’ak." you mutter though the tut his tongue makes keep you from proceeding, head shaking. “Shh, don’t say anything. I jus’ want you to cum for me, got it? Flood my shit.”

You feel every curl, every nudge his fingers gives the most sensitive spot within, your insides coiling, rattling all at once to the point where you nearly lose all feel of your lower body, all sense of the way your tail swivels, the way your limbs quiver. “Make a mess all over your Olo’eyktan, hm?”

The hand grasping your hip rises to press against the rising arch of your back, encouraging the pretty dip to take shape while your inner thighs clench around Lo’ak’s palm.

But the continuous push to your back flush you forward, thighs yanking open with the lankiness of his lower abdomen shoving between. The act causes his fingers to retreat from your weeping hole and knead them sloppily upward. The intensity of your subsequent climax comes in high waves when he slumps them back inside, pumping once, twice, three times all in one before he is pulling back to stimulate your pulsating clit.

White spasms of what can be compared to blazing stars overcome your vision, a shriek rippling from your hoarse throat while you drizzle your release all over Lo’ak, the hands once cradling his face dragging down to the length of his neck and jabbing your thumbs into the hollow of his constricting throat. Tears cascade down your glowing, flushed cheeks, a never ending streak assisted by the river flowing from your cunt — an enthralling combination that has Lo’ak feeling ecstatic.

"Mhm, that's it, baby. Just ride that shit out for me…that’s it, there you go." His encouragement has your body feeling dazed and spent as you lean forward to flush yourself against Lo’ak’s dampened chest, ear flickering at the rumbled sound he creates.

"You did so good for me." Lo’ak mutters into your other ear, mouth grazing the point of it. "So, so good." The length of his palm move to cradle the curve of your head as he feel the racketing your body creates, watching the sways your lovely tail creates before it nestles right beside his thigh.

"Your pussy's so perfect, made to take me, made to listen to me, isn’t that right?” You cannot help but to not answer from the embarrassment clutching at you, and instead nuzzle the tip of your nose over a glowing speck on his cobalt striped chest.

"Nga yawne lu oer ( I love you )." This is sincerely declared with a brush of a kiss to your head. "I do, I really, really do." He insists, and he cannot evict the sniffles following that scrunches his nose afterwards. "I am sorry, very sorry for the way I’ve acted."

You are too exhausted to create some sort of movement, but one thing that is for certain is that Lo’ak prefers it this way. It makes the act of speaking, of apologizing much easier for him.

"Damn, I really have been so selfish, haven’t i?” A deep furrow finds its way to your forehead at his self chastising, at the way he is combined, conflicted between uttering this to you or to himself. “You will still leave. You won’t be here anymore. This is really happening, isn’t it?”

Another stiff sound leaves Lo’ak, so meek, so lost before sweetly adding, “I promise I did try. For you, I really tried. F-for them — for my family. To be what they need— what you needed.” A sob strangles in his throat, mind nearly beginning to descend into that fogging darkness. “A-and I know it’s not an excuse, I know it’s been years but after we left, a-after Neteyam—”

Yet the gentle, secure entanglement of your arms pulls Lo’ak from that mindset, and he finds solace within this embrace, keeping him close, letting him feel and know that you are there.

“Q-quiet. Enough — do not do this to yourself.” You stammer out softly, a light kiss meeting his collarbone. “We still have one more chance, ma Lo’ak. One more chance within this night. One more chance to pretend that this is not our future, to pretend that everything is fine, yes? Do not waste it by recounting your regrets, okay?”

Lo’ak’s mind gear this over, and in there, and in his heart, he more than knows that he is never going to be able to bring himself to love with such force as the way he loves you. Yet still, even now he cannot express it in a good, healthy, proper way that you truly deserve. He will find a way to prove it, however. To show, to act, to live by it as if it was the very sole purpose of his life. Lo’ak will find the pieces of himself beneath all this tethered and tainted pain, and bring them together within himself in order to bring himself back to life.

Lo’ak would do it for you. For his family.

So you can learn to love him again.

But he will do it for himself as well inorder for him to learn to love himself again.

"Wipe your tears for right now, okay? I am still here. I am right here in front of you." Lo’ak’s firm arms surround your frame into a hold that is soothing, familiar, full of strength. It blossoms molten warmth within your chest, erupting an arsenal of emotions.

"Whatever you — whatever you wish to give I will take." you end meekly and Lo’ak is certain he has fallen for you all over again. Yes, his climb back to victory will be well worth it. For you to look at him one day, and to once again see him as the boy you loved, the man you will love, the man you admired so profoundly. It makes Lo’ak’s entire heart begin to tremble, along with the curves of his lips.

"Alright then, sevin. Just take a breather and rest for a while, yeah? Our night's just getting started."

︵ ✮⋆˙