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bi-writes · 4 months

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bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

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stargirlfics · 1 month

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So Much Goddamn Talkin’

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes Joel has to quiet the noise in your head. Luckily he’s quite good at that.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post outbreak—Jackson era, mutual pining, friends to lovers vibe, established relationship, some mentions of anxiety, feelings and fluff, competency kink, soft dom!joel vibes, smut: oral (both receiving), fingering, soft intense PiV, unprotected sex, praise kink, daddy kink, come marking

*reader is written and described as black but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!

Word Count: 6k

Currently obsessed with the thought of older, domestic Joel in a relationship and couldn’t stop myself from getting carried away! Enjoy!

It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d ever spoken to Joel.

On the contrary, what had started as a timid friendship became something else entirely with one spontaneous kiss that only the stars bore witness to that night.

A silly dream of romance had landed right in your lap despite the crumbling of the old world behind you, taking everything with it and yet they took your breath away constantly, like a whirlwind, two grounding anchors were now tethered to your heart and their names were Joel and Ellie.

So why were you so nervous?

Sighing softly, you decided to blame it on the watchful glances Joel was giving you from across the yard, distracting you from the book you were reading. Eye contact with him could feel like the most searing heat, spreading like wildfire and at the same time the deepest depths of comfort.

Not always being a man of many words, the things he could express with a simple look or the weight of a hand fascinated you, made you fall so dangerously hard and with a certainty you’d never felt before.

Therefore you reasoned it simply couldn’t be your fault for being distracted and wanting him so much right now. Not when he made you feel this way without even having to try very hard.

You just needed to take a moment to soak it all in, a blooming hope carried in on the breeze now that it was the beginning of spring in Jackson, the wildflowers and planted seeds starting to sprout, and the soil and your own souls teeming with life after so long spent just surviving. Now there was space for healing.

Space for you to sit in the rocking chair Joel had worked on for months as a birthday present to you, or watch him get around to all the house projects (because once a contractor always a contractor) and strum out the prettiest chords on his guitar late in the evenings out on the porch.

This felt more like living and you never wasted a moment to covet it.

“You’re doing an awful lot of staring, Miller.” You looked up from the same page for the fifth time to catch him already looking your way.

He blinked and put another nail into the wood post he was working on.

“Hm, well damn right I am when you look the way you do. Now if I told you it’s been at least ten minutes since you’ve turned a page in that book you just might have to admit you’ve been starin’ too.”

There was that little smirk you knew so well, dancing on his lips as if he knew just how much it would drive you crazy, the confirmation that you hadn’t been subtle in the slightest either.

“Well, you’re out here giving me a show.” You make a point to turn to the next page then, looking away before he could throw you a look at the sass in your tone.

He was right of course but what he didn’t know was that reading had started all this to begin with.

The tattered novel had been a surprise find on a patrol one day and came with an unexpected eroticism, bits of dialogue and tantalizing imagery on the page you were stuck on making your mind wander and wonder.

It’s why you felt a little nervous, caught off guard, suddenly wishing you were in bed and underneath him.

He flashes his teeth at you, that smirk widening into a smile at your reply, his attention returning to the tools in his hands but your own continued to linger. Remembering.

A few nights before in particular, when he was fucking into you so deep you had to bite the sheets to keep your moans down. You could still picture the definition of his arms as they cradled you and kept the headboard from colliding into the wall at the same time.

Or how good you knew it felt when his broad palms swat across your ass, never failing to make you yield to him with such eagerness.

You wished you could have your hands on him now, petting, feeling, showing him how much he was desired and cared for, how much you wanted to be filled by him, stretched out and aching with nothing but his name in your mind and on the tip of your tongue for hours.

Those stray thoughts had you turning back a page, leaning into the slow burning fire lit underneath you.

Still unsure of how to initiate these desires, you didn’t want to distract him from something he’d been trying to get around to doing for awhile and at the same time felt a thrill at the idea of tugging him away, leading him to bed.

With some hesitation you decided to bide your time for a bit longer, getting caught up in words that made you squirm imagining Joel doing and saying them.

God, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could keep up, feeling the slick pooling of arousal between your thighs, the way you wanted to grind against nothing already.

Joel finished repairing the post in no time and moved on to patch up a hole in the wall of the old shed, unaware of your internal dilemma.

Eventually he gathered up his tools and stored them away, told you he was gonna head in and wash up but that you should keep relaxing out here for as long as you wanted and he’d get started on preparing things for dinner later.

He left you with a kiss to your temple and the lingering familiarity of his touch. Handsome and sweet, he was going to be the death of you.

Your mind felt too restless to keep sitting but you took him up on the suggestion just for awhile longer, trying to find the right way to move things in the direction you wanted. Family dinner wasn’t for another four hours and Ellie would be here a bit early but there was still time and you wanted to make the most of it.

So you finished off another chapter and finally closed the novel, ushered inside with the echo of birdsongs and the steady thumping of your heart in your ribs.

–

Joel had been so sure you hadn’t noticed his repeated stares as much as he’d noticed yours, bowing his head under the warm spray of the shower he could only think of how pretty you looked sitting there while he worked, fond of the fact that you liked to be next to him even if he was occupied.

At first he couldn’t wrap his head around it and was almost too unnerved and bewildered by the fact that you took such an interest.

Not at all used to someone touching him or looking at him like he was their entire world but that’s the only way you looked at him and as much as he had tried to be measured, tried not to get attached, he had come around to the idea of a relationship again.

Loving people was frightening, something he felt he’d lost the ability to do properly after all these years, all the blood staining his hands and his conscience.

He had lost so much, seen too much death and feared he would only bring ruin, that he would lose her too, until you came along and turned everything he thought he knew on its head.

Oh what secrets and stories of loss he had told you in the quiet of night, when old nightmares and new guilts collided and kept him from sleeping though that was much less these days now that you slept by his side every night.

It had been a long time since he’d shared his bed and now it made him smile thinking of how natural it felt to wake up next to you, how easy it was to be around you, in the quiet moments he could see how the foundations you’d both built together had been made solid and steadfast over time.

Silly to think how he fretted over ruining his friendship with you all that time ago, the way everyone was sick of him in the days leading up to when he would finally ask if you were interested because they all knew he had nothing to worry about and those worries in his head were swiftly put to rest when you tugged at his shirt to pull him closer and asked what had taken him so long.

He’d never forget that moment.

Joel thought then that this was the moment he knew but quickly learned there would actually be a collection of moments–several times a day–that would remind him just how hooked on you he really was.

Like the times he showed his age and your sweet giggles and clever retorts always followed soon after, or how much he’s come to love the summertime because your brown skin basked in the sunlight is like art to him and he relishes every chance he gets to see you exactly as you are.

You brought a fullness and meaning to life here, encouraging him to slow down, to breathe. Taking care of one another made him stronger, nourished in ways he didn’t think were possible.

“Honey.”

He grits the word out like he’s trying to call you up here, reminded of how lucky he felt to have you, to be so connected.

Watching you walk around batting your eyes acting like you don’t know that it’s the pretty, round edges of your nose, the smile lines, the plush of your hips and that glowing thing inside you beating in your chest that drives him crazy.

Simply put, he was impressed by you. Constantly. You could handle yourself, skilled in your own right, already handy with weapons long before he was in your life and even more proficient now, deadly, with the things he’d taught you since.

You were resourceful and calm in tricky situations or when quick medical training was needed and yet none of the carnage of infected and worse terrors ever changed the soft way you tended to people, almost like you couldn’t help but give a little extra love.

And you had certainly spared many an ounce of that love for him; he’d forgotten how good it felt to smile this much over someone, can’t remember the last time he felt this way and definitely can’t remember the last time he’s seen his Ellie look at someone with such admiration either.

Everything about you captured his attention and he was grateful to be able to live some sort of life again after so much heartache, after believing he could never have these kinds of things for himself.

Those hands of his could scorch the Earth but you made him understand they could build things too, could show love and give pleasure just as well and just as fiercely.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of it.

All he knew was that he never wanted to let you go and that was enough for him.

–

When you venture into the bedroom you find him getting dressed, hair tousled from being towel dried, another wave of aching bloomed in your core as you thank yourself for having nudged him into letting it grow out a bit during the colder months.

He looked so handsome doing nothing at all in particular you were sure you’d implode if you didn’t just come out with it, you just hope he wouldn’t mind doing some undressing again.

“Hey, honey.”

His voice was low and gentle, the familiar pet name in his usual smooth rasp made you stride forward, sending you surging into his arms so that you were squished against his chest. He tilted his head at you just slightly in question before you were pressing your lips to his.

Your mouths met so tenderly at first, fingertips bursting with a nervous energy as they reached for his shirt, grasping needily as you lost yourself in the slow ease of the way he kissed you back.

But a little spark of anxiety makes you tense, overthinking the kiss, feeling a little silly for just how turned on you were, how much he could see it written all over you, dripping quite literally in desperation even if you tried to reason with yourself that you knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

“J-Joel…shit,” you whined and huffed through sloppy kisses, slowly finding yourself being walked backwards and held firm against the closest wall, “Oh…we don’t have to do this if-”

“The hell are you goin’ on about?” Joel grumbled against the column of your neck and all ability to articulate went out the window.

Rationally you knew it was a pretty good indication he wasn’t bothered by the spontaneity from the way those strong hands of his were already underneath your shirt, pinching almost in the haste to grip your flesh but you were already overthinking and it held persistent.

“Just…if you’re tired, I understand. We can wait till tonight. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Your words were huffed out in nervous gasps, trying to will your knees not buckle when his scruff teased a swipe across your jaw.

Joel pulled back then so you’d have to look at him, knowing the anxious flit of your lashes well.

He knew what to watch for, patient when you needed reassurance that you were free to run wild with your desires, that he was never tired of having you bare and wrapped around him at any hour of the day but this was of no consequence, he’d make sure you knew where he stood.

Shaking his head, he doesn’t give you more than a moment to suck in a breath before his hands leave your waist to hold your face.

“So much goddamn talkin’, sweetheart,” the words are a heavy growl against your lips in between heavier kisses, “Think I need to remind you of some things and put those thoughts out of your mind, yeah?”

Your whole body felt hot, flushed with desire and aching for whatever he was going to do to remind you, nodding before your tongue could catch up with your agreeing thoughts.

“Let me show you.” Joel caged you in against the wall, broad shoulders blocking everything else out.

The steady rise and fall of his chest became your focal point and new arousal sparked at his attentiveness, so easily able to soothe, to make you unravel for him.

“Please, I want you so much.” Your softly sighed plea turned into a whine when you were crushed to his chest again and this time there were no reservations to the embrace.

He was so good at this, making you burn for him so often you wondered sometimes how you were able to get anything done.

Hungry fingers pushed the collar of his flannel back, jeans already unbuttoned for your wandering attention to latch onto and he encouraged it with a push of his hips against yours.

It’s an easy movement, dropping to your knees like you’ve done a hundred times before to see how just a simple kiss already had him stiff and straining against denim, teasing the kind of thickness you so badly wanted to fill your throat with.

Your mouth watered, fingers outstretched to wrap around hot skin the moment his cock was free, unable to stop yourself now. Joel’s rough sigh following the steady pump of your hands made you glance up, meeting the intensity of his gaze and you held it there for a moment before your tongue was tasting him.

“Look at you...already have it in your mouth like the quick learner you are,” He hissed through his teeth and you could feel where he throbs against the hollow of your cheek.

Pride swells in your chest from the praise, knowing the tone of his voice meant the restrained edge of patience from letting you tease him back was slipping.

You could feel it in the flex of muscle underneath your hands where they’re braced on his thighs and you hoped he was proud watching your lips stretch around him, head bobbing nice and easy the way you know he liked it.

You’re unconcerned with being neat about it, slicking him up with your mouth and still trying to take him deeper, trying to take all of him in fact.

You liked to flirt with dreams of your nose being pressed snug against Joel’s pelvis, wanted to feel him through your entire chest even if burned because there was sweetness in being deprived of oxygen like that. Call it an unwavering trust.

You gave in to the feeling and kept your eyes focused upwards on him, trying to relax your jaw despite all the anticipation, happy to let him take control.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. Stay just like that.”

Listening is hardly even a thought when you’ve hung onto his every word, every movement, not minding the strain in your jaw as he rocked his hips into the wet heat of your mouth. Tongue swirling over his shaft, the thick head of him, desperate to earn it, to make him curse and growl out your name.

The pressure of his fingers against your jaw and then the back of your head had you moaning, trying to speak while he fucks your mouth.

“P-please, make me take it.” Your heart lept with each languid thrust of his hips sliding deep so he could feel the softening of your throat.

He’d give you whatever you asked for when you whimpered like that.

Firm and sweet was his grip, raspy grunts and cursed out praises that flowed from his mouth even sweeter to your ears as your tongue slid over the soft, sensitive head of his cock and back down the length of him.

You’re insatiable and any anxious thoughts still rattling around in your mind were quickly fading, replaced with his touch, his smell, his taste. The salty smear on your taste buds had you pressing your thighs together, craving relief.

“Good girl, yeah that’s it. Startin’ to understand now, sweetheart?”

Your head tipped forward and the only response you could give was a heady moan, doing your best to nod knowing how much he’d like seeing that, the tears already welling along your lashes from the effort but you didn’t mind.

Knowing you made him tip his head back, a heavy palm braced against the wall above your head while he grunted out curses and filthier praise made you feel a dozen more times ravenous, encouraging him to keep going with sloppy, wet whimpers that were barely held back from your kiss swollen lips, stretched over every thick inch of him you could take.

“Love watching you choke on it, honey. Fuck that's good, show me how much you can fit.”

The sight of him is something you hoped to never forget, searching for and finding the slight snarl of his lips when the tip hits the back of your mouth and the flex of his biceps when you slide your tongue around to lick the underside of him.

Joel could barely hold himself back, the urge to bury himself in your throat almost overwhelming but he wanted more than that, he wanted to reward you for listening so well, for how much you make him feel.

It had been building all day and he knew you had to feel it too. He was loath to pull you off his cock, an ache through his chest at your desperate cries from the loss of contact but he was quick to remedy that with a searing kiss.

You melt and are grateful your knees are already on the floor when your tongue meets his. It was so messy, hungry and neither of you cared.

“Get on the bed. Go on, darlin’.” Joel’s voice sounded like warm syrup, covering you in adoring instruction, taking you and leading you where he knows is best.

And god do you love when he was in this mood, nothing but a filthy edge to his affections.

So you complied, ignoring the twinge in your tummy as you moved to the bed, sprawling out across sheets that smell like the both of you.

He watches you get comfortable, loosening a few buttons and those jeans finally discarded on the floor before the distance is closed and he’s all over you.

Every touch and caress was intentional as he undresses like he’s unwrapping a present, greedy for all of you but so passionate, so easily able to steal your breath at the same time, slowing down the tempo now that your legs have fallen open and there’s nothing left covering you.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy…and she’s all mine.” Joel admires you for a moment, firm hands tickling your thighs while his thumbs circled the soft, sensitive junction of your thigh so close to where you wanted him most.

The praise has you sighing breathlessly, peeking down to see the way he was looking at where you glisten, a sureness to his features that made you feel safe all while the clench of his jaw sent goosebumps across your arms.

You want to echo that he’s right but he doesn’t let you have the chance, a broad palm sliding down over the hair covering your mound, tugging at it gently before two thick fingers are swirling over your folds.

Muscles jolting, you were rocking up into a touch that is so expert and familiar you are helpless against it.

“Joel, oh! That feels so good,” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath while your body responds to the tight circles he was rubbing against your clit.

“Yeah? ‘Can tell. You’re so slick, honey. Did suckin’ me off get you this worked up?”

Your nod is pure reflex, hips grinding against his movements needing to chase the pleasure that was slowly oozing its way into your system.

It’s only something he can do and he’s so steady, so thorough with you even as you squirm, those two fingers now stroking at your entrance eliciting sounds that sparked heat in your cheeks and spread down to your chest.

You want to be as connected to him as you can, almost pleading for him to sink inside you already just desperate to feel completely surrounded by him.

And Joel can’t seem to grasp enough of you under his hands, gone for the way you cling to him as he fits his middle finger inside, marveling at the way your walls take him in.

He would never get over your strangled little cry at being stretched around his knuckles.

“I asked a question, lemme hear you.” He spoke a little more loosely, his Texan drawl slightly heavier now.

“Yes, yes,” you’re remembering yourself after a moment, “Fuck, yes I love sucking your dick.”

The words are shameless, falling from your lips as a promise, a proclamation that you know he feels the weight of when he leans in to kiss you again, muffling your sounds while he slides a second finger in alongside the first that’s filling you so perfectly.

Any concept of time or day is somewhere in the background muted, far away and suddenly you know you’re right where you should be, right where you belong, no traces of anxious thoughts lurking any longer.

You could sink into these sensations now, enjoying how his kisses had moved to your neck exploring the sensitive spots and smiling against your skin when a new one is found because he loves feeling you clench around him when he does.

It’s a gift to Joel, being able to draw out this kind of bliss in you.

He wanted you to feel good, wanted to be the one to make your world shatter and then piece it back together again when you came down to the ground.

Your eyes rolled shut when he plunged deeper, the pads of his fingers massaging at your walls in tandem with what his mouth was doing between the valley of your chest and further down to where your stomach fluttered.

Somewhere in the haze of it all you realize his mouth was at your thighs, the white hot touch of his lips closing around a stretch of supple flesh bringing another wave of heat before he’s licking gently, bruising a mark into your skin that only he will know is there later.

“I could spend hours like this, you know that? Could have you makin’ such a pretty mess all over my hands, all over our bed…and I know you love when I do this.” Joel husks before he’s finally tasting you properly.

He starts at your clit, tongue flattened against you in anticipation of the inevitable flex of your legs, determined to keep you right where he wants and you’re already so far gone for him and this moment that your head tilts back against the pillows in a gasp.

You feel almost weightless as you succumb to the pleasure and how he presses his mouth into your pussy like he wants to devour it. You’re sure you’d let him swallow you whole if it kept feeling like this.

It’s not even a question really, you know you would, until you’re between sinew and bone and part of him forever.

The plunge and curl of his fingers combined with the flick of his tongue had you panting, heat skittering across your body while your hips circled on their own accord.

“More! Please, Joel!” It’s a chant and a sob all rolled in one and you don’t care how needy it sounds.

He keeps going, lapping at your sex greedily until you’re clenching down around his fingers and your toes are curling, crying out for him not to stop as you hurtle towards the cliff’s edge.

Skin dewy and alive, you decide that you don’t want to spare anything, not when he’s watching you as hungrily as he eats.

You give him all your sounds, all your pleas, handing him your body and your heart at once.

It’s amazing how it doesn’t take long for him to have you so close, right at the precipice, forgoing his own breaths to keep pace, to give you what your body is singing out for and when you finally let go, when your orgasm is finally coaxed from you he only presses his face into you further, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could in hopes of seeing that soft sweet look in your eyes afterwards.

“Attagirl, doin so well.” The words are a tether.

He’d take care of you and that’s perhaps what made it so easy to surrender yourself to the passion of the moment knowing it would linger long after you were both spent.

“Mmm you should see yourself right now,” Joel hummed, licking his lips while you attempted to catch your breath, “I always want you, don’t forget that yeah?”

The last part catches your attention through the curtain of bliss, a serious shift in his tone telling you that he meant every word; you had no reason to second guess yourself over your desires and he was making sure of that.

You nodded and sat up to reach for him, nevermind how you still trembled, your desire to be close to him was stronger than ever now.

“I need you, Joel! Please, I’ve been so good…” Your words tug at him, you can tell they do by the way he ruts his hips against the edge of the bed.

He crushed his mouth to yours before you could finish speaking, a much welcome relief, the burning flame inside you quelled for a moment.

“Sure have been, honey and I think good girls should be rewarded.” He nipped at your ear, stealing your breath with his words.

And even further when his flannel joined his jeans on the floor, climbing back onto the bed to follow the path of your body with his own, framing your limbs and wrapping you up in his embrace like you were made to fit against his chest.

Your legs fall open again to wrap around his waist as he settles some of his weight down against your hips, just giving you a taste, calling back memories and reminding you, funnily enough, of that novel you were reading earlier.

It felt like you were suddenly amongst the pages, chest heaving, your core tender and dripping as the man of your dreams was about to show you how much you’re his in every way.

Fairytales didn’t exist in this world but you felt like you were in one right now.

A giddy and timid smile spread across your face when Joel trailed warm hands down your body, catching on the bend of your elbow, wrapping around your ribcage to settle on the crest of your ass as he puts more of his weight down and uses his shoulders to nudge your legs apart and back towards your chest.

The air felt thicker but your breathing seemed to even out, everything in your body thrumming with energy and an intensity neither of you could ignore any longer.

Reaching down between your bodies you wrap a hand around where he’s thick and throbbing, guiding him closer with a soft smile, feeling how heavy he hangs in your hand, fingers pinching his skin when he rocks against your folds, the dirty sounds of his cock gliding through your stickiness.

Joel groans against your forehead, holding himself steady as your hips buck into his touch, the tip pressing against your entrance and finally, slowly, sinking inside.

Your moans are twined together in the quiet room. The stretch makes you keen, hands fumbling and grasping at strong shoulders, grateful he lets you have a moment to adjust.

But it’s not long before you’re squirming again, whining for him to go deeper, to fill you to the hilt and he made good on his promises to do exactly that.

He keeps your hips tilted up with the press of his palm underneath you, meeting little resistance the more he splits you open and it does something to him to see how much of a mess you are and he’s barely fucked you yet.

“You can do it, know you can…there you go.” Joel pulls back to give a shallow thrust, lips brushing your temple and a hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

The drag of his cock against your walls was everything, steady thrusts building up the tension coiling in your belly, fantasies from your novel melding with reality.

You felt like you were floating, your toes pointing when he changed the angle, brushing against a spot that had you crying out, ankles trying to lock around his torso.

Pressing heavier and faster with his hips however, your legs stay spread, the beginnings of a tremble rippling through your muscles now that he’s caught on.

His pace remained measured and deep, just the way you were begging for it, and he’s content to watch your brows pinch, your jaw slacken, content to hear every gasp of air and pretty sobs mixed in with your moans driving him crazy every time they slip from clenched teeth.

“Shit, I love watching you take me like this.” He cooed.

You can feel the heavy slap of his balls colliding with your ass when he pounds into you again and soon your hands slip from sweaty skin, scratching down his chest to pull at the sheets, so overwhelmed with feeling but never wanting it to stop.

“Daddy...Please, please keep going.”

You’re so caught up in the moment you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud, glassy eyes moving up from where you were trying to peek between your bodies to meet Joel’s careful gaze, only half registering how they widen for a moment.

He’s taken aback for just a second, almost questioning whether he heard it correctly but something’s been knocked loose within him now, his cock twitching from the reverence and adoration in your tone, bestowing him with a title he suddenly wanted to earn.

Joel was a grown man and had lived through many hells to be able to have you bare and underneath him like this, he reasoned he deserved to have a little fun in the bedroom especially when he hadn’t expected to be so affected.

“Ah so that’s what you’ve been reading in that book of yours. Just wanted Daddy to fuck you all day is that it, sweetheart? Yeah, I gotcha now.” He rasped low against the crook of your neck and started to fuck you harder.

His grip on you was less gentle but still just as passionate, the force of his thrusts stealing your ability to think properly. He wanted to make you say it again.

The burning in your cheeks only subsided a little at his acceptance, more heat flooding you from head to toe at being called out, wondering how he knew it was something you read in your novel, if it had been that obvious.

It didn’t matter now, you see where his dark eyes have narrowed, ready to make you come again with this newfound discovery.

So you try and be good for him while you moan and clench down on his length, your pussy swollen and aching but tingling for everything he could give you, “Yes, daddy! Just…oh! I couldn’t help it. Thank you, daddy!”

He knows you’re close, a familiar frenzy to your breathing, the slick wet sounds between your legs, it’s everything he dreams of and more, torn between watching your face as you come or watching the way his cock shines with your release.

With a few more strokes and the soft rubbing of his thumb against your clit you shatter, face pressing against the meat of his shoulder while you ride it out, feeling weightless in his embrace.

It makes you giggle when you can’t keep your head up any longer, neck lolling back against the pillow where he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you in place as he finds his own release swiftly after yours, pulling out to cover your puffy folds in hot ropes of his come.

You would never tire of being made a mess, even if you knew you’d be sore tomorrow, nothing quite ever beat the feeling of being fucked out like the way Joel could have you.

“Baby…” you’re breathless and bursting with emotion, “Thank you for that. Think I really needed it,” You laugh against his chest and sigh.

You’re almost too nervous still to look at him after your slip of the tongue but you know deep down there’s nothing you have to be worried about.

“Of course, honey. Anytime, and I mean that.”

–

You’re not sure how much time has passed, drifting in and out of a dreamy slumber still cradled against Joel, only now you realize you’ve been cleaned up and tucked under the covers but you don’t mind, you know you can simply lay here and soak it all in, he would take care of you.

Racing thoughts no longer buzz around in your head, all you can feel and see is Joel and you smile to yourself knowing the intimacy you just shared still lingered in your body, love etched in your fingertips where they’re laced in his hand against his stomach.

His lips press against your temple and you close your eyes again letting yourself be swept away with the sweet drawl of an “I love you.” in your ears and the gentle evening sun warming you both.

—

A/N: This was actually lowkey inspired by that scene where Joel is leading Ellie, Henry and Sam down the street after they come out of the tunnels and Joel just shakes his head and goes “so much goddamn talkin’.’ while looking like an annoyed father because they’re all being too loud…got very hung up on that bit of dialogue and could not let it go so here we are!

Also hope I added the daddy kink bit here in tastefully, it’s a fave of mine and I struggled a bit to think of how to incorporate it in a way that felt real for Joel so I only just dipped my toe in with it here but I hope you liked it! 👀

Thank you for reading <3

some no pressure tags! 💫 @eupheme @ozarkthedog @moreofem @tinydramatist @black-fairy3 @federalchickensoup @fluffyprettykitty @persona-enthusiast @moonstruksandco @ghotifishreads @communism-bitches

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x black reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x woc #amalia writes

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allfearstofallto · 2 months

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Day of the Wedding

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption

AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!

Diluc

Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.

Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.

When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.

Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.

Childe

So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.

“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.

The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.

You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.

Scaramouche

He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.

You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.

Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.

Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.

“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.

Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.

Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere Scaramouche

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risuola · 7 months

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DON'T HOLD BACK — F. READER x GETO SUGURU, who'’s as sweet as he's mean to you

If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie.

cw: smut, no-curse au, size difference, spanking, hair pulling, cunningulus, slight description of pain (tattoo related), so many pet names, Geto has tattoos and piercings (yup, that's a warning), there's an appearance od Satoru at the end, reader discretion is advised — 7,9k words

masterlist

If anyone would ask you few days ago what will you be doing on friday at 21:38pm, you’d probably respond with a large dose of confidence, that you’ll be resting in your bed. Maybe catching up on your favorite anime because you had no time to watch the newest episode during the week. You’d be lying comfortably, sipping on your favorite, fruity tea and if you’d feel fancy enough, maybe you’d even order yourself a pizza. That’s what you’d assume you’ll be doing late on friday, it sounded reasonable and reasonable is what you liked to call yourself.

Making spontaneous decisions is not a trait you’d give to your personality. You were always the one to think at least twice, usually more like seven times, before you commit to something, especially when it came to serious things such as body modifications or a choice of college. You were an overthinker, a helpless one to be exact, but that got you through life somewhat safely up until the point of reaching the sophomore year at uni. Your grades were fairly good, you had a little circle of people that were close to your heart, and you couldn’t think of many that you’d actually call your enemies. Being called a bore by your best friend was just a side effect of your usually cold and calculated thought process, but it never bothered you.

That was just who you were – a helpless overthinker – so it’s only natural, that you couldn’t find an answer reasonable enough to explain why on earth, on late friday evening, while the clock was slowly but surely heading towards 10pm, you were standing in front of the deep purple, slightly flickering neon sign that read Curseive.

A clever concoction of something so dark and mysterious as a curse and the intricate art of lines and shapes that the font cursive is all about – it hung up high above the entrance, written in a way that mirrored the conflicting feelings and somehow making it work. It was a tattoo salon, a relatively new one in your area, but it already had many good reviews online – or at least that’s what you assumed while doing the quickest research of your life. If scrolling through the messages left by customers for at most thirty seconds could be even called research. Why were you here? You had no clue, but you pushed the doors open and there was that little version of you sitting on your shoulder that wished you’ll just get asked out, because the salon was closing in about 20 minutes, but you decided to ignore the frail voice in your head and move forward.

When you stepped inside, it was empty in the lobby where the little sofa was situated for those who are waiting and a desk that was probably a reception. Dark walls around you were adorned by paintings that on the first glance looked to you like were handmade. Quickly you found yourself lost in the soft sound of buzzing that mixed with the quiet rock music playing somewhere in the background, as you began examining the artworks around you. One of the walls was made into a gallery of sorts, with the photographs of finished tattoos and printed patterns displayed in an array, supplemented with little descriptive notes and sometimes comments, that you assumed were left by clients. All of them were breathtaking and although you couldn’t see yourself rocking most of those heavy inks on your own skin, you were more than happy to appreciate and analyze. The precision of lines, the shading, the colors and composition – all of those tickled your artistic soul in ways not many things could and maybe it was the aesthete in you who stopped you from decorating your own body until this point, because fact is – you thought about getting a tattoo many times before. You really did and even had a pattern you really wanted, but it just scared the shit out of you to think someone could butcher it up and charge you for the mess. So, you never made an appointment. Until now. Now you were determined to do so.

You took one deeper breath, as if encouraging your own self to speak up and make your presence inside more obvious. The subtle scent of antiseptics and inks filled in your lungs as you inhaled, but instead of giving you more courage, you became more nervous. It’s just an appointment, you thought to yourself, you can always call later and say you have to call it off. Yeah, that sounded like a plan in your head and with that plan, your legs automatically moved towards the exit, despite what you wished to do.

“Running away, princess?”

That voice. You couldn’t mistake it for anyone else, you knew the soft, tender tone that even laced with malice sounded so pleasurable to the ear. You knew the owner, although not that close, but you met him many times – not one of them being all that nice. It was Suguru Geto, one of the biggest heartthrobs in your college. He rocked a disposable, black surgical mask that was pulled down under his chin and a pair of black gloves that he was in the process of taking off. Silver earrings glistened in the dim light of the salon, just as his rings were when he finally dealt with the hand protection. Your eyes glazed over the metallic accessories he had on – that also tickled something inside of you, triggering an unknown fantasy of having those long, ringed fingers of him deep in your… Suguru had nice hands.

“I’m not running away,” you told him, hoping that your voice was as firm as you intended it to be. Spoiler alert, it wasn't.

“No? Looked like it.” He chuckled, throwing the latex to the designated trash. His tone was taunting, you felt so small under the weight of his golden gaze. “Are you lost, little girl? You don’t exactly fit in that place now, do you?”

“You’re working here?” The question slipped through your mouth as if it wasn’t completely obvious from the very fact that he was here, alone, equipped in safety gloves and a mask, so near the closing time.

“Do I work here?” He took a look around himself, taking the mask off his ears and throwing it away before once again looking at you. “It’s kinda my place, so yeah, you could say so.”

That actually made sense the more you thought about it. Suguru was your senior, he was two years older and now finishing college. You had some of the faculties joint with his year and you were always the one to sit beside him – by the orders of the teacher, not by your own choice, although sitting next to him wasn’t that bad usually. You can clearly remember that during every lecture, he was doodling something on the screen of his ipad – something that you never really paid attention to because for your own good, you decided that staying away from the so-called frat boys was the best you could do. All this time, he probably was designing tattoo patterns.

“Right, so-“

“I assume, if you’re here that means you’d like to have something inked, is that correct?”

“Y-yeah, but, uh-“

“Are you 100% about it or did you come here to stutter?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious about your decisions or just mocking your nervousness, but either way, you felt it in ways you probably shouldn’t. This man had some power in his demeanor, and when he leaned over the counter, propping himself on the elbows and looking at you like a predator would glance at his pray, you felt small.

Suguru wasn’t the typical fuckboy, although he for sure was a magnet for the ladies, thanks to his absolutely stunning visual. That, you couldn’t deny – he was just gorgeous, with his sharp features that somehow still looked soft and inviting, the golden irises of his eyes that never faltered from eye contact, manly jawline and long, luscious locks of black hair that he often tied in a low bun. You never seen him in anything that wasn’t grey or black – white when it really was an odd day – but other than that, he was dressing in monochrome and you truly couldn’t blame him. He was a type to make the most boring sweats set look like the sexiest outfit on earth with just the fact that it was him who wore it. Yeah, he was gorgeous, you had to give him that, or rather blame him for that, because his apparition was for sure going to be the beginning to your end. Speaking dramatically, of course.

“I’m sure.” You forced out, mentally kicking yourself for being caught off guard just because it was him. You were never that taken aback near him, but you were also never alone with him. It was easier to stay indifferent when there were people around, when all of his focus wasn’t targeted at you and when that gorgeous pair of eyes wasn’t gazing straight into your soul. You felt like he could read your thoughts just by looking at you.

“Cool. So, let me close and you’d tell me what’s your vision.”

Suguru found your presence in his studio amusing. He’s seen you at uni, you were quite known in his circle of friends that unofficially were called the frat boys, even though your college didn’t really have this kind of organization. It’s due to your friendship with the cheerleader’s leader, but thing is – although you’re close with most of the fun girls, you were most definitely no fun whatsoever and for some reason, Geto found it interesting. And the fact you never faltered to speak up for yourself… How he’d wish to fuck the attitude out of you. He himself wasn’t exactly the type to party until blackout, drink until sunrise or have a checklist for girls to screw at the college. He had no wish to cross any names off of any list. Aware of his good looks, he used them to their limits to make his way through studies smoother and there were not many things that he couldn’t achieve if he tried hard enough. Even the principal of his faculty had a soft spot for him, so many things he was able to get away with. That being said, if he really wanted to have a girl, unless she was really hooked in someone else, he would probably face no issues of getting her. That’s what he thought, until you came to picture. Considering every charm and trick he had up his sleeve, he was almost certain that getting you wouldn’t be so easy for him, or for any of his friends. And now you were here, in his shrine, trying to sound confident when you most certainly weren’t. Adorable.

You watched him pulling down the shades in the windows and turning keys in the lock, effectively closing you both inside the studio and in a matter of few minutes, you were situated with him on the couch, sitting quite snug as you scrolled through your phone to find the picture of your little drawing. It took everything from you not to melt into his side. The way he smelled was intoxicating, a mixture of cedar wood, pepper and some kind of citrus – a tangerine if you were to guess. And the warmth of his body was so inviting. Before being so close to him, you didn’t even notice how cold you were – apparently your shorts and a sweatshirt weren’t good enough for the October evening, even though during the day it still was way too warm for the fall attire.

Geto waited patiently for you to find the picture you just told him about. The sketch you did that was meant to present him the idea of what you wanted to have tattooed onto your skin and as you were scrolling through your gallery, he took this time to take you in. He noticed that you have a really nice profile. Your lips were pouty, just slightly pushed forward and so kissable right now, as you were focused on the display in front of your face. Your hair looked good also and he couldn’t deny the fact that you looked like you’d perfectly fit into his arms. And on his dick. You were way smaller than him, but that wasn’t unusual – he was a fucking giant, but something in your frame made you appear like you’d slip into his embrace just right and that thought make him go crazy. It’s been quite some time since he found a girl so captivating.

“Here, I found it,” you informed, showing him the screen, and he placed his hand over yours, slightly shifting the device so he can see it better. A hum left his mouth as he analyzed the drawing you did. It showed two betta fishes, one black and one white, positioned in circle, as if they were chasing each other’s tails. The pattern was intricate – the fins were ruffled and detailed, scales bearing a little bit of shading and yet, the whole image was quite a simple one. It also reminded him a little about the yin and yang symbol. He liked the idea, it worked well with his perception of you and what surprised him was the fact that he as well had a little tandem of bettas tattooed on his body and there was no way you’d know that.

“And where would that be?”

“I thought on the sternum maybe?”

“Oh, that’s going to hurt like hell, princess,” Suguru chuckled, already opening the new canvas on his tablet. “How are you with pain?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be good,” you accentuated the words with a nod at the end and leaned in a little bit to see what he began to draw. The pencil slid over the grey colored screen with skill that stunned you. Just from memory and the little reference you had in your hand, he quite quickly created the basic sketch of what you just showed him.

That night you spent two hours with him on the couch in his salon, admiring in quiet the process of creating a finished artwork. You enjoyed every second of it, the artistic sequence of lines made something unbelievably good, impressing you to the very core, even though you already looked through the little gallery he had on the wall. Seeing it being put down in real time made it that much more captivating and you didn’t even notice how during the process you glued yourself to him, nearly laying your head over his strong shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

When he was about to finish, you understood why he chose grey background to work with. As the last step, he dragged the white color over one of the fishes and that really made the whole piece magical.

“That’s perfect,” you told him when he tilted the screen so you could see it better. Taking his ipad in your hands to closer examine the creation of his hands, you nearly gasped at the incredible detail he put into the scales, shading each and every one individually. And the tails were so beautifully drawn, perfectly reflecting how they would just flow in the water.

Geto would lie if he said that the admiration your eyes were overflowing with wasn’t fueling his pride. Sure, his clients liked his projects – obviously, cause they let themselves be tattooed with them, but somehow the sparkle in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

“Is that so?” He purred, wrapping his arm around your back and planting his hand on the curve of your hip. There was no protest from you – quite the contrary, Geto noticed you even scooted a little closer, but the reason made itself apparent sooner than he’d expect. Even through the fabric of his dark washed jeans he could feel how cold was your thigh when it made full contact with the side of his leg. He placed a hand over your naked skin to check if his senses weren’t fooling him. “Gosh, you’re so cold.”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to shrug it off, but the feeling of his palm pressed against your plump flesh sent searing impulses through your nervous system. Slowly, you became almost painfully aware of how pleasant the near proximity of him was. How perfectly warm he felt next to you and your mind couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be even closer. You actively tried to suppress those thoughts, but it was damn difficult, when he was just right there, so easy to reach.

“You look great in those shorts, but the summer is over, pretty,” Suguru muttered, his voice just slightly amused as he let his fingers smooth over the supple flesh of your inner thigh. He was so close to where you wanted him to be and yet so far.

“Yea, I know. It was warm during the day though. I was supposed to be home hours ago,” you confessed with a sigh, already thinking about the cold you have to walk through to get to your apartment. It wasn’t far, but if you were freezing inside Curseive, you’d most likely turn into an icicle when you get out, considering it was already midnight.

“Well, let me schedule your appointment and I’ll take you home.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll set you up for next month, so you’ll have plenty of time to chicken out,” he teased, shooting you a wink and making you roll your eyes.

That night, you did many things you’d call unreasonable. You spent few hours in closed space with a man you probably shouldn’t have anything in common, you leaned into him without giving it a second thought. That night you made an appointment to your first tattoo. That night Suguru carried you home in his arms, wrapped in a blanket he kept in the studio in case someone felt cold during the inking process. And that night, you let him into your bed.

If anyone was to meet Suguru for the first time, they’d probably say he’s absolutely perfect human being. Kind and always keen to help, very soft spoken and caring and mostly, they would be right, because he really was all of those things to the public eye. Before, you considered him a red flag, but it turned out, he didn’t leave you alone after he fucked you. You expected him to be gone as soon as he pulled his dick out of you, you expected him to ignore you after that night, but he stayed with you till morning, not even once letting go of you. You woke up to the soft kisses smeared over your shoulder and a little tickle of his hair brushing against your flesh instead of the cold bed.

You spend day after day at learning things about each other. You got to know how he liked his coffee in the morning, what foods he enjoy and what shampoo he uses to keep his hair so luscious and gorgeous all the time. Suguru noted to himself what sweets bring you the most joy, he discovered that the little scrunch on your nose when you’re laughing is the most adorable thing in the world and he also studied the playlist of your favorite music, finding out you share similar taste when it comes to songs. You spent hours drawing with him, creating designs on his tablet while sitting in between his legs, your back pressed to his broad chest. Sometimes he was suggesting changes to what you created and sometimes you were the one to add some details to what came from underneath his pen.

It’s been a month since you got together with him, or at least, since you started paying more attention to each other. With good dose of confidence, you could call him your boyfriend – even though it wasn’t officially talked through between you two, your actions made it pretty hard to deny. It just happened, after the first night together, you just became closer and there was no need to give it a title, when everyone knew you’re in relationship. You were holding hands in the campus, kissing publicly and spending time together for most of the breaks. You got to know his friends, his brothers and even got the password to unlock his phone. Yeah, it’s been only a month, but your bond with him developed quite quickly. Turned out, Suguru Geto wasn’t anything that you assumed he is. He’s lovely, really. Saccharine sweet if he really wants to be, but what no one seemed to be able to notice was that he really is a meanie sometimes.

Just like now, as you laid on the dark leathery bed in Suguru’s salon, already having enough of this whole idea of getting a tattoo and he only just started. To his credit, he did warn you that it’s going to hurt like hell, even suggested picking another place for your first tattoo with real concern in his voice, but you weren’t anticipating this kind of hell when you insisted you wanted it below your cleavage. It really was something you couldn’t compare to anything else in your life – maybe a kick in the shin, but continuous and in the middle of your chest.

Geto was working in focus, keeping his eyes on the pattern he was permanently imprinting onto your skin and taking little breaks from time to time to check on you. Last thing he wanted was you fainting there, and you felt like you were close. You couldn’t even focus on how the chocolate tasted on your tongue – the one he bought you, so you can have something to snack on during the process. The way his needles were stabbing the delicate, sensitive skin of your chest millions of times made you feel sick. The vibration of the machine reverberated directly into the bone below, enhancing the horrible experience and you could have sworn you were actually hearing the pain, while he was going over and over again through some areas. The choice of white ink made it that much worse, because to even make it properly visible, he had to re-trace the shapes more times and you felt each of them.

“Oh, you’re such a crybaby,” he teased softly, noticing the glistening trace of a tear that just rolled down your cheek. “Told you it’s gonna be a painful process.”

“Oh, shut up, Sugu,” you muttered, wiping the salty mark away and taking another chocolate. “Can we take a little break?”

“Let me finish that one and I’ll give you a minute. Sounds cool?”

“Uh-huh…”

You weren’t looking at what he was doing, and those little moments that he promised will get you that breather you asked for seemed to stretch for hours. The constant, sickening poking of the needles seemed to never end and at some point, you really were that close to just yank him by the hair and throw the tattoo gun out the window, just so he’ll stop for even a moment. But the break never came, Suguru just kept going, telling you he needs to just finish that line until the relief washed over you, when he smeared some kind of gel over the area of your sternum. You felt almost orgasmic, when the cold, soothing fluid covered the burning skin between your breasts.

“You can stop crying now, baby girl, we’re all done,” he all but sneered, making sure to cover the entire pattern with the healing formula that he made sure was enriched with anesthetics. He ordered that specially for your session.

“We’re done?” You repeated after him, wiping away the tears.

“Yes, baby, save those tears for me later.” He teased, helping you get up from the bed and you hopped down on the ground to properly see the artwork in the mirror. The skin around the lines was red, but the pattern itself made you gasp. It was made so beautifully, the lines were crisp and very thin, perfectly mirroring the vision you had, and the white ink? Gorgeous. Suguru put his entire soul into your tattoo, it was a mark he left on you that will stay there forever and sometimes you wished he’ll stay with you just as long.

“You’re so mean,” you grumbled, admiring the shapes that now were stuck to you permanently. Geto laughed quietly and wrapped his already ungloved hands around you, standing right behind and checking his work in the reflection.

“And what’s my crybaby gonna do about it?” He couldn’t help the mock and the glare you shot him only made his laughter bigger.

“I’ll ban you from my bed,” you deadpanned, a soft pout forming on your mouth and you slapped his hand away when he tried to undo the only button that held your tiny cardigan together.

“Then I’ll take you to mine and you’ll have to deal with Satoru sleeping with us. You know he can’t help himself and you know how that will end, right?”

“I know, I know…” you sighed, too focused on the lines that adorned your skin to care about the clinginess of Gojo, although you felt the soft cringe washing over you quickly. The artist in you was screaming, giggling and kicking its legs – the tattoo was everything you wished it to be and more. “It’s so beautiful, Sugu.”

“You like it, huh?” Geto smiled, leaning in to have a taste of you. The kiss he pressed to the side of your neck sent immediate shivers down your spine and you tilted your head as an automatic reaction. Your body knew that giving him more space will result in more pleasure. “I like it too,” he purred against your skin. “No bra for you for at least few days, pretty. I’ll be checking.”

“No cum on my tits either, poor little you.”

“You didn’t just call me little, did you?”

“And if I did?”

“Isn’t my dick pretty much the size of your entire forearm?” He joked, looking you up and down in the mirror. It was comical in a sense, to see what buttons you were eager to push when it was clear as day that you’re just tiny next to him.

"I wouldn't say so."

“Oh, you little brat. And to think I felt guilty for making you cry today,” Suguru shook his head and it was you this time who chuckled.

“You shamelessly tortured me for two hours, where’s the guilt in that?”

“I could have tortured you for three. Am I not the best for making it quick?”

“You’d love to make me suffer for longer, wouldn’t you?”

“Not before, but now I might wanna make you cry a little more.”

You shook your head and followed him, so he could put the protective film over the tattoo and once you sat on the edge of the tattooing bed, Geto pressed not only the second skin to your chest but also his lips to yours. The force with which he leaned against you made you almost loose your balance as the metallic frame underneath you squeaked from the sudden weight change. With ease, the man encaged you between his arms, intimidating your small form with his much larger one. You were no match for Geto when it came to sizes. He is a damn giant next to you – tall and broad, nothing but wall of muscle with limbs long and strong. Sometimes, you found it unfair how easily he was able to overpower you, manhandling you any way he wanted, no matter how much you’d fight.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his weight overpowering you and you tried to push him away, desperate to catch some air into your lungs but that desperation only made you mewling into his mouth. The cold metal of his lip piercing never failed to send shivers down your spine, whenever he was kissing you like his life depended on it. He made you feel special, even though you were far from it.

“My sweet girl,” Suguru praised, his words being kissed away by you, because as much as you needed oxygen, you also needed him just a little bit closer. “My little crybaby.”

“I think you owe me some kind of apology for the pain you’ve put me through,” you muttered, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth and swiftly taking the elastic from his hair. The pitch-black locks fell down his broad shoulders, keeping the slightest curl to them from the way they were tied up.

“Oh yeah?” A grin stretched his lips and his fingers immediately found their way to the front of your jeans. “I’m not going to apologize for something you signed up for, but I’ll gladly eat that pussy as a form of payment.”

His remark made you roll your eyes, but any comment you wished to throw at him got lost when he pressed his digits to your clothed clit. Suguru smiled in satisfaction, feeling the wet patch spreading over your panties. Desperate to see it all, he pulled back and took those jeans off of you completely, taking your underwear along with it. Cold air hit your soaked folds, making you shiver as you spread out for him.

“Look at you,” Geto smirked, sitting down on his stool and spinning your panties around his pointer finger, “all wet and ready and I barely just touched you. Or is it that pain you’re so whiney about what made your panties so soaked?”

“Don’t focus on that,” you muttered, snatching the cotton from his hands. “Focus on me.”

“So demanding.” Suguru chuckled, but truth was, as much as he wished to tease you a little more, his mouth was already watering at the sight in front of him. You were a meal he’d choose to have as his last supper, the most delicious dessert he could slurp on for hours and never get bored. Every inch of you, he found to be perfect, you raised the bar of his standards to the point he couldn’t even look at other girls around him. You really got him addicted and he wasn’t even mad about it.

The feeling of hot kisses Suguru was planting all over your thighs made you scoot closer to the edge. Usually, you’d let him do his thing – you loved his mouth marking your skin. You loved the bruised spots he liked to suck on here and there only to claim his place beside you, you loved the soft touches and harsh grips. But now, you really wanted him to jump straight to action. Those nips and kisses can wait.

You allowed your fingers to brush through his silky locks, your nails scratched his scalp along the way and he purred softly before a gasp cut the sound short – it surprised him how roughly you grabbed the strands of his hair, right next to his scull and pushed his head nose deep into your pussy. It was new to him, no one ever dared to tug at his hair and when it was you, he was more than keen to get used to it. The stinging feeling of the pull at his hair follicles sent an impulse straight down to his already erected cock, making it now impossibly hard and Suguru was thanking himself that his work attire that day consisted of sweatpants and not jeans.

You couldn’t help yourself, you knew he had the strength to fight you back if he really needed, so his suffocation wasn’t any of your concerns. And Geto took the challenge with pleasure. His pierced tongue danced over your clit as if he was trying to tattoo his own name over the swollen bud between your folds. The mixture of his hot muscle and cold metal made you whine above him, squeezing his hair even harder, pushing his head even deeper. A low, deep purr that left his throat reverberated through your entire nervous system and sipping into the bloodstream, making the pleasure rush inside your veins instead of blood.

“Oh my god, Suguru-“, you breathed out, coming undone just underneath the skill he had in his mouth. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, like he would die if he won’t bring you over the edge just with his tongue, like he was born to pleasure you. A coil quickly began to form in your stomach, a string threatening to snap at any given moment if he’ll continue with the intensity of his actions. Your thighs trembled, squeezing around his head, but he held them apart with force. He wasn’t done with you yet.

You couldn’t control the way his name was leaving your mouth; it came out like a prayer that he’d love to listen on repeat for the rest of his life. A music that filled his ears with pleasure and that pleasure seeped down, creating a river of ecstasy running down straight to his straining cock. You really got him to the point he felt he’s going to cum in his pants, but then the hold on his hair loosened. He used that moment to catch a breath before going back to his work.

“Don’t hold back,” he purred, keeping your hand where it belonged over his head, getting rid of any guilt you felt regarding pulling at his hair. You came not long after and he happily slurped you through the bliss, licking away everything you gave him, devouring your pussy as if nothing better was ever going to happen to him. “So sweet,” he grinned, finally pulling away. His face covered with your slick and hair messed up from where you held it, and he looked so beautiful like that when you looked back at him. Surrounded by haze of your release, he looked nearly angelic when he got up, pushing back the stool and taking his rightful place between your still trembling thighs. Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Suguru used it to take off his t-shirt for no other reason that to feel your hands over his skin and you were quick to press your palms over his tattooed flesh.

Geto’s body was only one of things that were impressive about him, but unarguably one of the most breathtaking. Years of training martial arts made his shape resemble the stone statues of gods. A hard wall of muscles covered with a light layer of soft skin and adorned by black lines of ink. You never failed to trace your fingers along the dragon that curled around his entire arm and spreading onto his chest. He also had a line of letters underneath the side of his ribcage and two betta fishes swimming up along his spine, following a trace of abstract lines and dots. He had told you once about the meanings beside all of images that adorned his body, but you couldn’t recall them now as he was once more kissing you feverishly. You tasted yourself all over his mouth, you took in his purrs and low groans that vibrated in his throat when you pushed down the waistline of his sweatpants, palming him through his boxers.

Geto grabbed your thighs, repositioning you closer the edge.

“Shouldn’t I avoid any physical activities with that tattoo so fresh?” You asked him with the littlest teasing undertone and he grinned, kissing your lips and everywhere around them with fervor.

“I’ll go slow, babygirl,” he promised, but slow is hardly the word he’d use once he pushed his girth into you. If you were a drug, Suguru was addicted to the point of no return, he never had enough of you, always too little, always eager for more and more and more. You were a godsend to him, a gift he was certain he never deserved but he cherished it with all of his might. Just like with all of his might he began thrusting into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking them above his pelvis as if you needed to make sure he’s not going anywhere. Soft pants and whimpers were leaving your mouth every time his hips collided with yours and the sounds you were making concocted an erotic symphony with the low grunts he let slip through his throat. The melodic line of mixed voices, quiet praises and heavy breaths accompanied the desperate squeaking of the bed below you and wet reminders of how he was fucking into your dripping pussy.

Every ruthless push and pull of his hips sent surges of pleasure through your body. Lust and heat erupted inside of you like a volcano and the searing lava of endorphins turned your brain into a flurry. The room around was lapsing, nothing else mattered and even the untrusty bed underneath you, that held there just barely underneath the force of Suguru’s relentless slams couldn’t bother you when he was fucking you that good.

Flaming hot waves of white covered your vision as you hid your face in the crook of Geto’s neck. Panting for air, you held onto his shoulders harshly, digging your nails into the flesh there and marking it in red with crescent moons and scratches. The stinging pain made him whine in excitement, the sound low and prolonged enough to make your walls clench and flex around him. The stretch of his cock was setting your mind ablaze along with your body, your heart was beating fast and threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Sugu-ru-ah~”, you were panting, whimpering shamelessly under the force of his pelvis slamming against yours and he grinned above you, his grip over your hips merciless and bruising.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, smearing wet kisses along the line that led from underneath your ear to your shoulder. Something incoherent left your mouth and you felt yourself close, the swollen walls of your pussy squeezing him repeatedly and he knew you were close but wasn’t ready to give it to you quite yet.

It’s like you blacked out for a moment because it felt like you barely blinked and then your position changed. You didn’t notice how swiftly Geto slid onto the bed himself, situating you over his lap.

“Hop on baby, work for it a little,” he mocked lovingly, giving your ass cheek an encouraging slap. There was barely enough place for the two of you, but you made it work anyway, sliding back down onto his dripping from your juices cock. A soft moan escaped your lips as his girth once again squeezed into your oversensitive insides, pushing against every sweet spot on the way and making you shiver as the tip kissed your cervix. Desperate to feel more of him, you began rolling your hips, working your way into the palace of pleasure that Suguru Geto was and making the most out of the current position. His exposed chest and neck begged to be devoured and you couldn’t leave them neglected, so your mouth was on his skin in no time.

Suguru kept bucking his hips upwards, gasping and growling underneath you. His hands left burning marks over your ass, each slap sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body and the little whines you were letting out against his skin fueled the intense fire that burned inside of him even more. Sometimes Geto couldn’t believe you really were with him. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he’s high on something, maybe he’s imagining you, but only thing he really was high on, was you. Nothing could compare to the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock, to the way your little hands were grasping his arms and shoulders just to steady yourself when his force was becoming too much and absolutely nothing could stand even close to the intoxicating feeling of your lips on top of his. You really were made just for him, it had to be fate that once you stumbled upon his studio. He still remembers the first time you let him in, spontaneously inviting him over and after that, every day seemed to be somehow better than the previous one. Every minute he spent with you managed to surprise him with how good it felt. Suguru was hooked on you. But how could he not, when you had the ability to strip him of everything that was cool about him, leaving him raw and sensitive just for you?

“Fuck, c’mon, cry for me,” he panted, forcing your hips to move even when you clearly were running low on power. Your entire body was tensing, the velvety walls of your pussy squelching over his length and he felt himself flexing inside the hot embrace of you. The rush of ecstasy sent him overboard, it filled his veins and neurons with blissful daze of desire, and he found himself chasing the high, bracing for the impact of upcoming climax.

You whined and melted into him, lost in the haze and diving head first into the puddle of pleasure. The feeling overtook you, you couldn’t think anymore when he was pulling you underneath the euphoric sea. You felt light from pleasure, the ferocity of his movements burning you inside out, sending seething waves throughout your entire form. With vision blurred, nothing felt real anymore and if not for the rough grip he had on your hip and ass, you’d probably fly away and never get back.

Lost in the stars and haze of orgasm, you pushed yourself up, encouraged by few more harsh slaps and Geto followed you to sit up for no other reason than to be able to still taste you. At this point you were sure he tattooed not only betta fishes onto your chest but also the imprint of his hands to your butt cheeks. Gathering every last bit of strength you had in your muscles, you rolled your hips against him few times more. All of the intensity that was building inside of you snapped suddenly. Your spine arched and head rolled back, exposing your neck and chest to his kisses as he pushed you over the edge of bliss and you fell off that cliff with nothing but acceptance. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face and Geto was quick to kiss them away as they gathered along your lashes and down your jawline.

The weak sound of his name slipping down your tongue was enough for Suguru to let go. White hot ribbons of cum sprayed deep inside you as you rode him through both of your orgasms, the movements of your hips now slower and sloppier, bearing no more strength in them and yet, time after time you pulled them back and forth, desperate to feel him a little longer, to take more from him.

“My little crybaby,” he cooed, when you finally run out of battery, settling down on him and leaning against his broad chest, hiding there to catch your breath. You were sore, still overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings that just fell over your head but satisfied to the point of delirium – so much so that you let the little honey-covered taunt slip. Suguru smoothed your back softly, relaxing in your proximity, once again stunned how somehow, you managed to make all of it feel better than the last time you slept together. Highs with you were unforgettable. Nonreplaceable. Incomparable to anything else he ever felt with anyone.

“Thanks god you’re strong,” you muttered against his skin, planting there few kisses while you’re at it. “I don’t think my legs will work after that.”

Geto chuckled. Yeah, he was going to marry you one day.

“No worries, sweet thing, your place in my arms is secured for lifetime.”

“Good.”

“But first, let me get you cleaned up.”

Your legs were weak when you got off of him, but surprisingly carried you enough to allow you to slowly pull yourself together. Suguru cleaned the space a little while you got dressed and made sure the protective film over your fresh tattoo was unharmed during the activities before you buttoned up your cardigan.

* * *

“Suguru, you still here?” Gojo stormed in, even though the studio was locked, but truth was, nothing could really be locked when it came to Satoru.

“Don’t tell me you copied the keys to my studio.” Geto chuckled, finishing the final wipe of the bed. There was no force that could stop his friend from invading his spaces, he dropped the effort years ago.

“I won’t tell you, you got this.” Satoru shrugged and looked at you. Then at Suguru and back at you, repeating that at least few times. “Were you two fucking here?”

“And why would you ask that?”

“No, the real question is, did that thing endure it?” White haired man pointed at the leathery bed. “What a champ, I thought it’ll collapse.”

“Fair,” you admitted at the same time as Suguru, and handed your man the hair elastic that you snatched from him earlier.

“So, what were you doing here? Besides contaminating the area of course.”

“I got a tattoo,” you replied to him and Satoru grinned.

“For real? That chest piece he told me month ago that you’ll for sure chicken out for?”

“Yeah, that one.” This time it was you who laughed and Geto just shrugged, tying up his hair.

Satoru wasted no time, it’s like he teleported to you and before you registered what was happening, he was already unbuttoning your blouse and truly, you couldn’t really be bothered. It’s been only a little less than a month since you really got to know Gojo, but it was very quickly presented to you that him and your boyfriend have a thing for sharing. It was as natural for them as breathing and whenever you saw them together, you wondered how it happened that they weren’t brothers by blood.

“It’s so cool, Suguru. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you tattoo something on me too.” Snow white grinned, examining the concoction of lines over your sternum. He had to bend in half almost, to be in line with the pattern on your skin so you brushed through his hair, messing them more than they were already.

“Not that it’s my life mission to do so, Satoru.” Geto stretched his body and glanced over the room once more, making sure he can close the studio for that day without leaving any visible remnants of what happened just moments ago.

“Doesn’t it kinda look like us?” Gojo asked, stopping you before you covered yourself back. “The black and white contrast… am I the only one who think so?”

It wasn’t your intention, but as he said it, you began seeing it. It really made sense, especially considering that Geto mixed the tiniest bit of lavender ink to the white, to prevent it from yellowing over time. That lavender coincidentally being the exact shade as the undertone of Gojo’s hair.

“Well, not anymore,” the black haired one sighed and once you managed to button up your blouse, he swooped you up into his arms. “You’re gonna lock the doors, Satoru. Turn off the lights.”

“Sooo…” Gojo nearly sang, flicking off the switches and turning the keys in the locks, making sure everything is well secured before he joined you two, already walking slowly towards your home. “Are you ours now?”

839 notes · View notes

iaure · 11 months

Text

𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1: 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3: 𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴

CW: description of family death, ptsd, stalking, harassment, obsession. Written in the third person. Use of Y/N. Y/N acts as a mom/sister to the four teens. This mostly establishes her relationship with other characters.

Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ not quite sure how i feel about this one Ꮚ≡д≡Ꮚ it's very filler-y and explaining some of the mental process Y/N went through, but it's okay! it's a stepping stone to miguel confessing! we'll get there! ✩ᏊꈍꈊꈍᏊ the new updates tag is also #୨♡୧ gothic updates because of the font i'm using for the titles!

wc: 1.9k

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻❜𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀.

Y/N wondered what it was like. When her brother leapt to save the child from a falling building, he refused to look at her. They hadn't spoken in years, estranged because they lost sight of when they were kids. Separated by family politics. They hadn't spoken in years. And he knew Y/N was Spider-Woman. He knew, and when she tried to stop him, he just...tore away. Said he wasn't a child, said that he didn't need her help.

He, very evidently, did.

Y/N didn't get the chance to see his body. He was carted away too soon, and the child was rushed into her arms, a little thing sobbing.

That day, Y/N found out she had a soft spot for kids.

Y/N previously had lived her life as normally as possible. She worked as a manager for some joint she never really cared for and did her job as Spider-Woman as quickly as possible. It became a running joke that she never really 'cared'. Well, duh, she cared, or else she wouldn't do it, but she was quite...lackadaisical. Nothing so jarring human death had occurred to her aside from her uncle's death, but it was far easier to get over him. She found out six hours later that this was something called a 'canon event'; things that are impossible to stop, like earth-shattering trains. All you could do was lay on the tracks as comfortable as possible. The woman that told her was good. Beautiful. Heavily pregnant. Surprisingly quick on her feet for being (aforementionedly) pregnant. And she said she was Spider-Woman, too. It took a second for Y/N to process it. But the woman, Jess, was cool, and to be frank, Y/N wasn't too worried. And Jess talked to her about what was effectively an army of Spider-Men, trying to stop anomalies. She asked if Y/N was interested.

It's not like Spider-Woman 7290 had anything better to do, anyway.

The watches were weird, Y/N would admit that. And the tower was like a temptation stairway, to just get lost in and never be found again. The other spiders were kind, waving hello and offering sympathies for her brother. One, a Spider-Moth, kept on bumping into her. It was...funny, to say the least. All had, to some degree, accepted their fates as Spider-Men and Women and Things and Animals and Beasts and everything she could possibly imagine. There was a car, of all things. It was...delightfully absurd, after observing such a hellscape as her brother's death. She was still in her torn Spider-Suit, still bruised with the dirt-marked tear stains down her face. She tried rubbing away what she could, but when Jess shot her a look of concern, she stopped. She didn't need pity. She didn't need worry. She was Spider-Woman. She could do it on her own.

She, very evidently, could not.

Y/N realised that when she saw Miguel. He was massive, built like a brick wall and an upside down triangle with a stare that felt like he was prying her apart at the seams. She tried to match it, but nothing quite felt as harsh as his stare. He seemed downright villainous. If that thing was chasing her, she would've screamed. Y/N was glad he was on the good guy's side. Jess introduced her, and Y/N felt lucky that she was so confident. Spider-Woman 7290 felt like she was shrinking under Spider-Man 2099's gaze. She wanted to run, as stupid as it sounded. Every sense except her spidersense was lighting up, telling her to bolt. The introduction felt like it lasted forever, with how Miguel didn't say a word. And to be frank...it kind of pissed her off. She'd already been through so much that same day. Why did she have to deal with this guy?

"Spider-Woman, from Earth 7290. Also known as Y/N."

Jess said it so matter-of-factly, and Y/N made it a point to look Miguel in the eye. Despite the cold terror that gripped her, she was not going to back down. Who was this guy, even? He reminded her of how her brother was over-confident. Maybe this guy had the past to back it up, but Y/N didn't know that.

And he just stared.

Y/N and Jess shared a look, and Jess put a hand to her shoulder. There was another beat of silence, before Jess cleared her throat. "Miguel? Are you listening?" Miguel seemed to jump, not physically, but mentally, snapping out of whatever haze he was in. He waved a hand, looking away. "Yeah. Sure. Ger her a watch." That wasn't even what Jess had been talking about, and the two women shared a glanced before Y/N looked to Miguel one last time. And he stared at her, as though she were a ghost.

Whatever. Guy was weird. Leave it to a superhero to be weird. He had enough on his plate to let him be a little weird.

Y/N got comfortable in the Spider-Society. She thought it was a stupid name, and she came off a little meaner than most of the other Spiders, but everyone had such similar experiences that it was easy to talk. Pav and Hobie became fast favourites-kids who got dropped in too fast, too soon, and could use some help from someone who gave a damn. Pav didn't seem to quite get it yet, but Hobie did, and Y/N found it easier to try and talk to the two of them than anyone else. Soft spot for kids. More like a soft black hole where if it wasn't those two, she didn't care. Then Gwen showed up, and poor girl needed someone to look after her. Jess cared, clearly, but Gwen needed someone who wasn't so preoccupied with saving the multiverse. Whenever she caught Gwen crying over her father, there was a little bit of rage that built up, because who treats their child like that? What kind of nightmare did Gwen have to go through?

The three started tailing her, following her around. And against all reason...she liked it.

She began prioritising helping them. Jess told her multiple times that they needed to do their own thing, but they were kids. She was about to have a kid! Y/N didn't understand Jess's reasoning all too well, but she wasn't upset, either. Everyone did their own thing. In this case, her thing was taking care of the kids that needed adult supervision. This also meant she had three extra pairs of eyes looking out for her.

Hobie was the first one to notice Miguel. The two of you were out, handing an anomaly (a rogue Doc Ock), when the teen shot you a look. "On your six," He shrugged. "Guess he wanted to watch." Y/N never spun around so fast in her life. She got the barest glance of his neon webs, but nothing more. And the discomfort in her gut began to grow. Pav was next, far less casual about it and positively gushing about it. He thought it was cute, how Miguel 'watched over you'. Something, something, romantic tension. But he went quiet after Y/N said she'd only spoken to Miguel a handful of times. That day, the discomfort was shared.

Little things began to shift around her apartment. Groceries replenished themselves. A Vulture was found beaten so bloody that he turned himself into the hospital, speaking about a Spider that very much wasn't Y/N. Once, her clothes had been washed, folded, and placed on her bed. And Y/N could put up with all of it, if it was just her. But Gwen would stay with her, usually, if she wasn't visiting Hobie or Jess. The apartment was small, but when Gwen walked into the guest bedroom and saw it was tidied up while the two were out, Y/N knew it was an issue. Why Miguel would do something like this was beyond her. He had so much more to take care of than to harass some Spider that he'd only spoken to...what? Four? Five times? Y/N was angry. Couldn't she just live her life? She just wanted to help the kids, beat the bad guys, and go home to relax. Was that a crime? She'd barely looked at him, even. Granted, it was partially because he was still scary as hell. Was he handsome? Sure. But he was so serious all the damn time, and there was the rumour about his dead wife, so Y/N was just pissed.

But whatever. She could put up with it for a while. Just until the next anomaly was figured out: some guy named the Spot.

She'd talked to Jess about putting Gwen on the job. Begged, even. Gwen needed a big break, something for her ego, and Y/N figured some villain of the week ought to do it.

That, evidently, didn't do it.

The situation spun out of hand. Y/N blamed herself, begged Jess to give Gwen some leniency. And thank god, Jess listened. The idea of Gwen suffering because Y/N pushed her in too far, too fast, would eat her alive. But if there was one thing Y/N was curious for, it was meeting Miles Morales. Gwen never stopped talking about him. Was excited as all get out any time he was mentioned. So seeing the young man in the Spider-Society was a treat. He was nice, and it was clear to her that Gwen and Miles cared for one another. How wasn't any of her business, just that they did, and now Miles was encompassed into the small army of children Y/N had amassed.

Which...brought her to this point.

An army of Spiders to her right. An army of Spiders to her left. And the one man army himself to her very front. Y/N was pissed Miguel treated Miles like that. Miles was a child who, god forbid, wanted to save his father. And besides. Miguel had already built up enough bad blood between Y/N and himself, with his little antics. She didn't find it hard to pick sides. Which led her to trying to block off the window Miles leapt out of. Her webs weren't the strongest, but considering it was an active act of treason, she knew she had to act fast. A Spider pinned to the wall there. A Spider dangled from the ceiling there. Buying Miles as much time as possible. The look on his face as he fell...the confusion. The gratitude. Miles had become one of her own, and she was not going to forsake him. But no one can stop Miguel.

He rammed into her, knocking the breath out of her like a bullet the size of Peter Parkedcar. There was a brief moment where Y/N were only spinning, Miguel's arms wrapped around her as she was used as a battering ram against her own webs, flung out the window. Miguel spun back, inexplicably, to place her back in the tower, muttering under his breath in Spanish before he launched himself back out the window.

"¿Por qué me hiciste esto, mi amor?" He had whispered. But she was too far gone. The world was getting hazy, and Y/N had one last thought.

That bought Miles another thirty seconds.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ taglist @neteyamsbulletwound

#spider man 2099 #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #divagaciones (per)#yandere miguel updates #୨♡୧ gothic updates

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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months

Text

SLUT!

chapter one: and I know you heard about me

pairing: peter parker x reader

series masterlist

“Sign the attendance sheet, please.”

An attendance sheet on a piece of loose leaf paper was sent around the classroom to mark the start of a new school year. Peter signed his name and then passed the paper along to the girl next to him. He could see you looking for a pen out of the corner of his eye and wordlessly handed over his own.

“Oh, thanks Peter.” You smiled at him and took the pen from him.

“No problem. Wait, how’d you know my name?” Peter wondered as you signed your name in the sheet.

“Because it’s on the attendance sheet you just handed me.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Oh. Right.” Peter blushed and strained his eyes to try and see what name you had written on the sheet.

“Y/n.” You told him when you saw him looking.

“What?” He asked and looked back up at you.

“You were looking to see what my name was. Its Y/n.” You replied and held up the sheet to show him.

“Oh.” He smiled timidly. “Yeah, I was. That’s a nice name. I wish I had it.”

“Thanks?” You laughed at his strange joke as he squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Oh, and thanks for this too.” You said and went to hand him his pen back.

“That’s okay. You can keep it. I have millions. Actually, just 45.” Peter said and pulled a box of 45 blue Bic pens out of his backpack. You laughed at how serious he was, making him relax a little. He had just transferred to the college that year and was worried about being the only new kid in junior year, but you were making him feel comfortable already with the prospect of a new friend. And it didn’t hurt that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“44 now.” You smiled and held up the pen.

“Right. 44.” Peter blushed. A silence settled between you but class had not started yet. The attendance sheet was still going around and the professor was busy on the computer. Peter felt awkward and didn’t know if he should continue the conversation or leave you alone now that you’ve spoken to each other. You were wondering the same exact thing and raked your braid for something you could say to restart the conversation. You and Peter turned to face each other and spoke at the same time.

“So what’s your major?” You asked at the same time Peter said “Do you play?”

“Oh, sorry. You first.” Peter laughed in embarrassment.

“I asked what your major was. I haven’t seen you around before so I was curious.” You repeated now that you were the only one talking.

“Bioengineering. And you haven’t seen me because I just transferred here. What about you?”

“Undeclared still but my advisor said this class will fulfill my math and science gen Ed’s. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“So you’re not taking organic chemistry for fun?” Peter tried his hand at a joke. Luckily, you laughed even though his delivery wasn’t his best work.

“I am not. I’m only here so I can graduate. What was your question?”

“Oh, right. I wanted to know if you play.” Peter asked and pointed to the soccer ball sticker on your closed laptop.

“Yeah. I’m here on a varsity scholarship. There was no way I was getting into this school otherwise. I’m not very smart.” You said with a nervous laugh.

“I’m here on a scholarship too.” Peter smiled at having something in common.

“Oh, cool. For a sport?”

“No. For being poor but smart.” Peter said seriously, but you laughed again as if it were a joke. Peter felt himself relax around you and settled into the conversation. You chatted for a little longer until your professor finally started class. When class ended, Peter hung back in his seat and waited to say goody bye to you once you finished packing up.

“Could I get your number? I like to have at least one person number in the class in case I miss a day.” You asked Peter and handed him your phone.

“My number? Oh. Yeah, sure.” Peter tried to sound calm as he took your phone in his hands. He put in his name and number and smiled to himself for finally giving his number to a girl.

“And cause I think you’re cute.” You added as Peter typed, making him freeze. He looked up at you in shock as he added his contact to your phone.

“What?”

“See you later, Peter.” You laughed and took your phone back before walking away. Peter stood there frozen for a while before heading back to his dorm. Ned was already inside, working on something on the computer.

“I’ve fallen in love.” Peter said as he shut the door behind him. Ned immediately closed his laptop and wagged his finger.

“No. Cut it out. None of that. Absolutely not.”

“You don’t even know with whom I’ve fallen in love with.” Peter pointed out as he plopped down on his dorm bed.

“Fine. With who?” Ned asked him.

“Her name is Y/n. She’s on the soccer team and in my organic chemistry class.” Peter said proudly.

“Wait, Y/n from the soccer team?” Ned asked. “Oh no, Peter. Thats never going to happen. I heard she’s really popular, but for the wrong reasons.”

“What reasons?” Peter asked. “And can people really be popular in college? Is that still a thing?”

“She’s a different kind of popular than what you’re thinking of. I heard she’s very popular with the guys at this school. And that’s all I’ll say.”

“Well can you say more? Because I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh my God. Do I really have to spell it out for you? I’m saying that I heard she’s kinda a slut. Like, big one.”

“A slut?” Peter laughed in surprise. “Do people really still use that word? I thought shaming women for their sexuality went out of style.”

“Nope. People still say it. Especially about her. I heard she sleeps with guys to get them to do her school work for her and then breaks their hearts. And I heard she even slept with the son of the President of the school to get in.”

“What? Come on.” Peter rolled his eyes. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t think she’s like that.”

“How would you know? You’ve only had one interaction with her.”

“And you’ve had 0 interactions with her.” Peter pointed out. “I’m hearing a lot of “I heard” and yet none of those things were told to you by her. So I don’t think it’s fair to judge her based on some crazy rumor before you even talk to her.”

“I’m just saying.” Ned shrugged. “She has a bad reputation. And that has to come from somewhere.”

“Well it doesn’t matter to me if she’s slept with a bunch of guys. If that’s even true. That doesn’t make her a bad person. She was nice and funny and I want to see her again. No matter how many guys she has allegedly slept with.” Peter replied with a slight roll of his eyes.

“Let me ask you this then; does she know how smart you are?” Ned questioned.

“Yeah. I told her I was here on a scholarship. Why?”

“Come on, Peter. Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that the campus slut befriended you after finding out you were smart? She’s just gonna use you like she used all those other guys. I’m trying to look out for you, dude. I don’t want her breaking your heart, okay?”

“She’s not gonna do that.” Peter insisted. “And she’s not gonna try to sleep with me either. You’ll see. She just wants to be friends.”

Peter put his headphones on to end the conversation but Neds words didn’t leave his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to those rumors. You did ask for Peters number after finding out he was smart, but that didn’t necessarily mean you were gonna use him, did it? One the one hand, Peter would he sad if it turned out that all you wanted from him was homework help. On the other hand, he felt slightly excited that a pretty girl wanted to use him. He knew his friendship with you probably wouldn’t end well, but he knew the middle would be fun.

The next day, Peter was walking across campus when he found himself having to pass through the club fair. He squeezed by a few tables and avoided any flyers when he suddenly spotted you. You were sitting alone at a table with a sign for the girls soccer team. You looked rather lonely and Peter noticed no one was going to your table. You suddenly made eye contact with each other and your face lit up.

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey.” Peter greeted you as he walked up to your table.

“Can I interest you in signing your name next to one of our game dates? If you show up on that date, you get a free water bottle. Water not included.” You said and held up a clipboard.

“Oh, I’m very interested.” Peter joked and wrote his name down next to every upcoming game you had on the clipboard. You took the clipboard back and smiled when you saw how many he had signed up for.

“Are you sure? You’ll have to see me a lot if you come to all of these.”

“Sounds horrible. I’m in.” Peter replied, making your smile grow. He immediately pushed everything Ned had said about you out of his mind and let you speak for yourself.

“So where’s the rest of your team?” He wondered.

“Oh, I don’t know. They said they were coming but they haven’t showed up yet.” You said with a sad smile. Peter looked at the two empty chairs beside you and felt bad that your team mates hadn’t showed up. You noticed him staring and smiled in embarrassment.

“Hey, uh, what are you doing now?” You asked him.

“Nothing. I have a gap between classes so I was gonna go get some work done.”

“I have work too. You going to the library?”

“I might be.”

“I’ll join you.” You smiled and got up from the table. You took your clipboard with you and walked in stride beside Peter towards the library. You passed by a group of boys on the basketball team and Peter heard you let out a sigh. One of the boys, Brad Davis, whistled loudly at you as you passed by. You stepped closer to Peter and quickened your pace, but Brad just stepped in front of you.

“Well look who it is.” Brad grinned. “I haven’t seen you on campus yet this semester. But I figured you were, you know, busy.”

You kept walking and Peter stayed beside you as he gave Brad a strange look. Brad didn’t even acknowledge Peter and only kept his eyes on you.

“What? I don’t get a hello now? I thought we were friends.” Brad asked you as he slung an arm around you. You forcefully threw his arm off of you, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

“That’s fine.” He scoffed. “I see how it is. And I’d be careful around her, Peter. She’s a homie hopper.”

“I thought you played defense?” Peter asked you. Brad was so confused that he immediately stood still and stopped harassing you. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Peter unintentionally diffused the situation and linked your arm through his.

“I do. Let’s keep walking.” You whispered and quickly made it to the library.

“I hate that guy.” You mumbled once you sat down at a table together.

“You do? I mean, same, but why?” Peter wondered.

“Why don’t you tell me why you hate him first?” You laughed and leaned on your hand to look at Peter.

“It’s simple, really. Brad and I went to high school together so I’ve have a long time to build this resentment. But it stems from that fact that he’s rich and popular and into sports and I’m the other kind of boy you can be.”

“Ah, I see. The quiet, non-sports boy? Those are real? I thought they only existed in movies.” You teased him.

“Many would assume so, but we’re very real. And very jealous of big handsome jocks who drive cars that look like Hotwheels.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.

“Hey, let’s not pretend you don’t have some heat under those clothes. I felt your arm before. It’s harder than a steering wheel.”

“Thank you?” Peter blushed and scratched the back of his head.

“You’re welcome. And you’re plenty handsome so you don’t have any reason to be jealous of those boys. Especially not butt-wads like Brad Davis.”

“Oh. Well, thanks. You’re handsome too.” Peter said and then immediately regretted it. You gave him a look and he sighed.

“I meant-“

“It’s okay. I knew what you meant.” You chuckled.

“Oh, good. So what are you working on?” He asked to change the subject.

“Homework for our chemistry lecture. But I don’t understand any of it.” You sighed and flipped back and forth between your notes.

“Can I see your notes?” Peter asked and you slid your notebook over to him. Your notes were very unorganized and sentences often went unfinished. He assumed it was because of how fast the teacher spoke and you not having time to write it all down before the class moved on. Peter looked up at you and could tell you were embarrassed by them. He gave your notebook back to you and took his out of his backpack.

“Here. We can use mine instead.”

“Wow. You have girl handwriting.” You smiled in surprise and touched his perfectly organized page of notes.

“I appreciate that.” Peter said sincerely.

“How do you even know what to write down? I have no idea what’s going on in that class. I try to pay attention but the teacher goes way to fast so when she asks if we have any questions, I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.“

“I was pretty good at chemistry back in high school. If you want, I could tutor you?” Peter offered.

“Really?” You lit up. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah. I’d be happy to.” Peter nodded. You smiled brightly, but then your smile faded as you realized something. You looked out the window at where Brad Davis was before looking at Peter again.

“Can I ask you a vague question and then not elaborate?” You asked him.

“Um, sure.”

“Have you heard anything about me?” You asked, and Peter immediately thought back to what Ned had told him.

“About you? No.” Peter lied.

“So you’re offering to tutor me out of the kindness of your heart? Not because of what you think will happen if you do?” You questioned skeptically.

“What’s gonna happen?” Peter laughed awkwardly. He knew exactly what you meant; you were asking if he only wanted to tutor you because he thought you would sleep with him. But Peter wasn’t about to tell his new friend that he heard she was known for that.

“Nothing.” You smiled in relief. “Do you want to get together tomorrow after lecture for our first session?”

“Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool.” You smirked. “See you then.”

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker college au

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mikaaki · 6 months

Text

✧ ⁠— COLD HEART OF SNEZHNAYA

characters : tartaglia / childe / ajax

warnings : fem ! reader ( she / her pronouns ) , angst ( no comfort ) , childe & reader have a son. childe leaving. ALSO POSSIBLE MAJOR SPOILERS?? mentions of the reader being pregnant & labor. death threats. SIGNORA & SCARAMOUCHE SPOILERS

word count : 1.5k

notes : i am so sorry.

also i haven’t written in months so welcome back me !!🫶 i wrote this in like 30 minute so i am so sorry if it came out choppy

being a harbinger had never been an easy task. surviving the abyss , climbing the ranks of the fatui , and surviving constant attacks from enemies was not a lifestyle for the weak.

it also wasn’t a lifestyle he wanted for his family. he had never planned to fall so in love with you. when he first met you at liyue harbor , it was just a chance encounter. but then he kept seeing you.

over and over and over.

childe figured he may as well get to know you. he had always been a charming man , almost too charming. it always worked out in his favor…

he wondered how long he could keep the balance of his personal relationship with you and his life as a harbinger up for. it had been going so well.

he remembered the day you announced your pregnancy so clearly.

it was a bright sunday morning and the two of you were having breakfast together. it was rare for him to be home on the weekend , but there he was , happily eating a serving of eggs and toast with you.

you had been holding off the announcement for a few weeks. you knew exactly how busy he was. something about seeing him so content with your presence made you spill the beans.

he had never appeared happier. childe made it clear in the past he had always wanted to be a father , but now that it was exactly happening? he couldn’t contain his excitement.

it was hard keep the pregnancy a secret , but it was necessary. the less people that knew , the better. the 11th harbinger having a family wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge. it made everybody involved a major target to his enemies.

one of the hardest days of your lives came a few months later , when you went into labor. childe stood by your side the whole time. he held your hand tight while you struggled with the birth of your son.

love at first sight had always been an odd phenomenon to childe. his son changed all of that. seeing the bright ginger tufts of hair and light blue eyes of his son , he instantly fell in love.

childe was a man who’s life was full of blood and gore , but this child brought out an entirely new side of him. he wanted to change and be a softer , kinder man.

but he couldn’t do that. the fatui would never allow him to do such a thing. he was a weapon , not a father , as much as he wanted to be one. he had a place in the tsaritsa’s chess game. you were nowhere to be found on that board.

it didn’t take long for the first threat towards his family to come in.

childe had never been so antsy in his life. he rushed home as soon as he could , only to find you and your son alive and well. that was the first time he considered leaving.

would it be better if he left? he knew it would hurt you. he knew it would be difficult to care for your son alone. maybe he could transfer money to you so you could have a well - off life.

he couldn’t risk your life by being in it. hate him all you want , but at least you would be alive.

the night he finally decided to leave was the worst night of his life.

his family had received too many threats. too many people knew of you. your small home in liyue harbor was a target of the worst enemies of the fatui.

childe had spoken of moving several times before. after bringing it up for the upteenth time , you finally agreed. it was a small home on the outskirts of the city. it was certainly an upgrade from your prior home , though still small. it was big enough for three , but would be quite roomy for two…

the thought of leaving made him sick. childe would never get to see his son grow. maybe he could come by liyue and see glimpses of him , but he would never be able to be his father.

he felt ill every time he returned home. you’d happily greet him with a kiss , whilst your son laid in his crib , playing with toys or babbling senselessly in an attempt to speak his first word.

sitting in your small home , the moonlight shines brightly through the curtains , resting on childe as he held your son in his arms.

you were sleeping comfortably on your shared bed , blissfully unaware of the mental battle childe was having with himself.

maybe he was being dramatic. he was a harbinger. nobody would truly be dumb enough to go after his family. that’s what he thought…until signora was killed , and only a few months later scaramouche disappeared.

with harbingers beginning to drop like flies , he knew it was only a matter of time until he was targeted , or worse ; his family.

he held his son gently in his arms , taking in every detail of the small boy as if it were the last time he would see him…

because it would be.

he intended to enjoy the last few moments he had with his son. once the boy was asleep , he planned to put him in his crib , kiss your forehead , and never come back.

“i’m sorry,” childe whispered, his voice soft and nearly breaking as he spoke. it was so different compared to his normal boisterous personality.

a sudden stiring from your bed caught his attention. he quickly turned to look at you , his gaze meeting yours as you sat up.

in a tired state , you glanced around looking for your son. your eyes softened as you noticed the small boy in his arms.

“he’s precious, isn’t he?” you whisper , a tired smile pulling at your lips. you were never quiet about how much you loved the small family you built for yourself.

oh how unaware you were…

childe struggled to reply. he felt as if he were going to snap and spill the fact he was planning to leave you and your child behind.

“he is.”

“he looks just like you , you know?” you laugh. you’d made it clear that you were jealous your son took after his father. they were practically twins. it was ‘unfair’ how you carried him around for months only for him to be identical to his father.

childe didn’t respond. he quietly held the baby in his arms , gently rocking him back and forth.

“it’s rather late , ajax.”

childe looked up at you as you stated his real name. somehow , that name made him leaving feel worse.

he loved you. he truly loved you. he loved the family you built together. but he couldn’t stay. he didn’t deserve it. he couldn’t risk either of you to stay and enjoy this.

“i know,”

“i can take him if you -”

“no. he’s almost asleep anyway,”

a silence fell between the two of you as you stared at your son.

to you , it was a comfortable silence. just a small family enjoying a late night with their small baby.

to childe , this was worse than the abyss. he felt like he was lying to your face. he was leaving , and he couldn’t even muster the strength to tell you that. he didn’t deserve to be a father. he didn’t deserve to love you.

“go back to bed,”

“i am,” you smiled, laying back against the bed. you rested on your side, watching as he continued rocking your son back and forth.

“i love you,” he whispered. the words felt bitter coming out of his mouth. he knew it was true. but he also knew it would be the last time he spoke them to you.

“i love you as well,” you replied in that tired voice he loved so much.

it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep. only a few moments passed before your son fell asleep as well.

childe gently placed your son in his bassinet. a feeling of guilt overwhelmed him , but he couldn’t stay. this wasn’t the life he deserved. his family deserved better. you deserved better.

he wasn’t going to put you at risk every day of your life just so he could be happy.

he wished he could tell you how much he loves you , but that was no longer possible. you were already asleep , and he intended to be gone by sunrise.

he leaned over to your side of the bed , pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

the next morning arrived , waking you with the bright beams of sunlight. looking to your side , you realized ajax was gone.

that was nothing unusual. he often ran errands in the morning , or he was at work.

either way , you decided to start your day , picking up your small son. the two of you would get some housework done while waiting for ajax’s return.

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grison-in-space · 2 months

Text

You know, I've been reading things written by people on the internet for my whole life, or at least my whole life after I was about ten. I'm thirty three now. That means there are people whose words I read on the internet twenty years ago who are presumably still around and occupying the internet—sometimes using names I can recognize from back then, too. (hat tip to my fellow "changing usernames is unnatural actually" brethren; I've only changed one myself twice in the whole world since I was about fourteen or fifteen.)

Sometimes I think about a person I see around occasionally on the internet. That person wrote a story about a character in a rather silly fandom we shared, and I read it as a child just beginning to conceptualize being someone whose opinions might matter. And I remember reading that story at some point, because at that age I had a hyperfixation on that character in that fandom at that time and I read pretty much everything in the genre. I never really got to talk to anyone but the inside of my head about it. My friends didn't read fanfiction, and my parents viewed my reading fanfiction as some kind of depraved, shameful secret. Anyway, I read that story and I remember having some kind of deep realization about how adult humans work while I was reading it.

I learned something about the world from that story. (It was one of those insights that are now so molten alongside my core that it's difficult for me to disentangle them from myself, like "people outside you have their own perspective on your behaviors, but that doesn't mean they have to be right.") And I remember that they know it, because they taught it to me, without meaning to. One of the anonymous impacts on readers that writers never see unless they're extraordinarily lucky.

And I smile, because it's lovely to see them again, and they showed me a skill I still use today. We don't have a relationship of any kind—it would be very difficult to recognize me, I think—but they did me a favor a long time ago. And I remember. Now I get to be reminded that this person still exists, and is still a pretty cool human to be around today, at least for the specific circumstance of internet neighbor. Well, and our modern level of concern about once beloved elders from the distant past going terrifyingly cult-addled and bigoted on short notice.

That has not happened in the slightest. They're just still a pretty nice fandom person who is a bit older than me, who is recognizably the same person they have always been, but more intensely and thoughtfully—like a distilled brandy, not a sour vinegar left out on a countertop too long.

Weirdly, that's a thing I find comforting: this tiny, one way, invisible affection. Every so often I feel this intense affection for a person I've never spoken to or about, because I see them and I love them intensely for a moment and then we both go about our days.

Think about how many interactions you have with people as you go about your day. Wouldn't it be nice to imagine that other people feel like that about you?

I think I'm going to imagine that there's one person that read something I said and thinks that about me. I don't need to ever actually know if it's true: I can just imagine someone who happened to be at a formative moment when they learned something against the background of my words. We'll never know each other as our screennames are lost along the years and we move in and out of touch with parts of ourselves, but we still have that little fond impact on one another, those fingerprints in one another's clay.

It's a nicer world to imagine than the one where no one is paying attention to me, or the only people paying attention to me are mean. And there's really no way to ever know for sure, so why not inhabit the pleasant end of the imaginatory pool if you can?

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crow-raven-crow · 7 months

Note

i would LOVE something like enemies to loversss

between you’re preferred gwendoline character x reader

maybe hate sex

𝐈'𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟..

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~3.1k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, shifted cock, degradation kink, praise kink, desk sex, mommy kink, choking, fingering, dom!Larissa, sub!Reader, slight breeding kink

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

You sat towards the side of the room closest to the window, the hot sun rays shining through the glass and casting a comfortable warmth over you. Your pen moved between your fingers, sometimes stopping to take notes or to rest on your lips while you thought about what was said, sometimes never leaving the paper as you covered the blank pages with ink as your art filled each one.

The latter seemed to be the only thing helping you get through this meeting..

Her voice, strong, powerful, demanding, rang through the room as the all familiar pointer darted from board to board when she connected them with each of her main points. Everyone else was paying attention, or at least seemed to be, but you had long gone ditched the effort after she threw you another question.

When you took a moment to look around at your coworkers, you saw them all taking down the notes that were written down time and time again or looking up to the front as the tall blonde spoke about issues or upcoming events. They were all so loyal, so easily manipulated, that it pained you to acknowledge the sight, so you turned the next page and replayed your actions from the start.

Larissa seemed to notice this, to see how you had gone through pages of no sustenance, of no quality as you filled them with art instead of everything important that she had been saying for the past hour - it made a growl threaten to come out as it got stuck in her throat.

"Professor L/N…" Her voice rang out with your name for the second time that day as the meeting was near its end, "Care to explain what I had just spoken of?"

At the sound of your name, your head turned up slowly, the disinterest in your eyes apparent as you met hers. You were waiting for when she would call upon you again, and a sly smirk graced your features at the opportunity to call her suspicions of your inattention wrong.

"Outreach Day," you said as you looked around for the attention of your coworkers, before turning back and meeting a growing fire behind sapphire eyes, "is a day for normies and outcasts to work together and show that there is not that big of a difference between the two. We are all people in one way or another, and the day is one to improve relations between the two parties."

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, and the sight made your breathing still. As one of her eyebrows quirked upwards, you reveled in the knowledge that she was satisfied with your answer, and she was wrong about your actions. Before she was about to speak again, you decided to push it a step forward, not knowing exactly how much she thought you had taken in.

"It's next week - Friday, to be exact. We're gathering after 2nd period, and lunch is to be spent in Jericho. We hand each student their designated location then head out to the front of the school to load the busses. If all goes well, we'll all be back before 7pm."

You could feel everyone's eyes darting between the two of you. These moments weren't rare, especially in meetings, but they never failed to build an unbreathable, restricting tension within whatever room you two currently occupied.

"Thank you, Miss L/N.." She spoke through a smile as she turned back to the board beside her. There was a hint of something else there, something you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it made your heart race; the lightness found within her voice something new and awfully contrasting what you normally received. "Nice to see someone being so attentive to my words.. That is everything for today. If you all have any questions, don't be afraid to speak to me or send me an email."

The room filled with small chatter and light shuffles as every professor began collecting their things. It always made you chuckle, since it was so similar to the way your students left for class: hurried, more relaxed, filled with a bit more excitement.

When you stood from your chair, you pulled your bag onto your shoulder as you took another look outside. Though, it was as if your peace was always interrupted by her, as you heard her call for your attention.

"L/n, I'd like to see you in my office." You were just about to leave, but your name with her voice attached to it made you stop all movement and turn around. You watched as she collected her own items, the lack of honorific making you frown.

"Okay.. I'm just going to drop my things in my classroom and-"

She walked past you as she spoke, only looking at your for a sliver of a second before she stopped by the door. A crease between her brows formed, and her back straightened when you met her side so she could tower over you.

"Immediately." There was no waver in her tone, no room for you to respond as the space next to you had quickly become empty. You never understood how it became like this.

But, alas, you listened anyway.

You caught the door just after she slipped in, making note of how little she currently thought of your presence, before making way into her office. The room never failed to interest you - the mirrors on the ceiling, the beautiful fireplace, the golden light from the chandeliers, the grand window all being built to utter perfection.

You found it a shame to never be in here with something good laying ahead.

You placed your bag by the door, before turning to face the blonde. She was half way into the room, ready to make home at her familiar desk and spend the next several hours clearing her inbox, as you stayed near the grand entryway. You watched as she placed her laptop onto the middle of her desk, before turning around to face you.

She noticed the distance you kept and considered finding joy in making you come closer, but the way you fiddled with your thumbs, the way your gaze shot around the room told her that you didn't quite know why you were in here this time. Though she found it adorable, she used the thought to make your situation worse.

She rested an arm against the back of one of the chairs in front of her desk, before her voice echoed into the space. "Do you have a clue as to why I've pulled you in here?"

Her gaze burned over your body, moving from your face down to your feet and back up again. The way she took in your form so intensely made you squirm ever so slightly, but it was something that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde. A smile slowly rose to her face as silence continued to fill the room, finding joy in the difference between you in the meeting and you now alone with her. She loved playing this little game with you, loved toying with you in ways she thought she would never bring to light.

"No, Ms.Weems.." Your eyes met hers as you spoke, and you were unprepared for the challenging look she thew your way. You allowed yourself to take her in with all her power, the way her dress draped over her curves perfectly, the way her hair didn't have an imperfect curl, how her hands moved when she spoke, how her tongue came out to wet her lips after each sentence-

She looked at you expectantly, one of her hands coming to rest on her hip as her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. In your moment of rare admiration, you had missed everything she had said.

"I apologize, but I've seemed to miss what you had said. Could you-"

“I’d hate to repeat myself, Professor L/N.” She glared at you, her professional mask near slipping as she stood her ground.

You hated feeling so small, hated the way she constantly made you feel, maybe even hated her.. She always expected from you, always challenged you in ways that made your blood boil, her tone and constant annoyance with you making a lightness settle in your arms, clouding you over with anger.

You finally snapped.

“You know what? I am so sick and tired of the way you always belittle me. It’s exhausting even attempting to please you, and it seems like whatever I do is never perfect enough, never good enough for you. I have absolutely no idea what I did to you to get this kind of treatment, but I'm so tired of getting punished for a simple human mistake, for having my actions read into, for having every little thing I do be picked at. I hate to say it, Larissa Weems, but you're going to have to repeat yourself this time.“

By the end of your spew of anger, you had successfully pushed and pinned her against her desk, one hand poking onto her collarbone while the other rested on the side of her on the desk as her backside dug into the dark wood.

You were so close, closer than you had ever been to the woman. You could smell her perfume as it overtook your lungs, feel the heat of her own breath against your skin, see her chest heave and brush against yours as your fit of anger seemed to finally get your thoughts across - the fact had made nerves settle back into you, stealing any confidence the anger had given you.

In your moment of faltering, words slipped from your mouth, barely above a whisper but still equal in their anger. “Why do you hate me so much?”

As you looked into her eyes, there was a darkness that filled them that was different than the one you had met several times before. Maybe it was the way you finally snapped, maybe it was the way you dominated her for even just a moment, but something within her had changed, slipped, forcing itself to the forefront before she could act otherwise.

She flipped your positions, one of her hands grabbing onto your hip as the other held your jaw in a firm grip. The sharp edge of the desk settled against your lower back as you slowly got pressed against it more and more. In the quick movements, you reached out your hands for stability only for one of them to grip the fabric of her dress and successfully pull her closer, while the other shot behind you to balance you against the desk.

She tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to hers as she took in your features. A deep blush settled on your cheeks at the close proximity, and you found yourself getting drunk on her perfume. There was a roughness found within her dominance as her eyes landed on your lips and stayed here as she spoke, making warmth spread throughout your body.

“It’s quite the opposite actually..” Her lips ghosted over yours as she spoke, causing a whimper to leave your throat. The sound only urged her actions forward, one of her legs pushing under your skirt and between your thighs as she completely cornered you. "Do you want this, Y/n?"

The way your name left her mouth shot warmth to your core - there was a softness to it that made your heart swell, but it was overshadowed by the undeniable lust that filled her entire being.

"Please.."

You watched as her smirk turned sinister, as her eyes darkened when she placed her hand around your throat and loved how perfectly it look there, as the last of her resolve crumbled away when she squeezed slightly causing your hand to latch around her wrist and your eyes to flutter shut as a broken moan left you.

Her lips crashed into yours, and it seemed like a crime to wish for air. The kiss was messy, it was desperate, but it was oh so perfect. Her tongue swiped along your bottom lip, and you didn't think twice about allowing her entrance. The way her tongue felt against yours had you fighting to hold back moans, but nothing could slip past Larissa.

She pulled away when she noticed, a trail of saliva between your lips, as she enjoyed the way you chased her. Her voice was dark, low as it rumbled in her chest, delicious as she tilted your head and spoke next to your ear. "Don't you dare hide those beautiful sounds from me. I want to hear them falling from your lips as I fuck you like the wonderful slut you are. Will you do that for mommy?"

The way her voice ghosted over your ear, delivering delicious promises to you made you shudder and swallow hard. The pure need coursing through your body made you roll your hips against her thigh. The contact made you arch into her and your words come out in a moan. "Yes, mommy.."

She made quick work of getting rid of your shirt, marking any skin her lips came into contact with immediately after. Her tongue pressed against the side of your neck as her fingers pushed under your bra and swiped over your nipples. You couldn't help but moan out in pleasure, the desire for her building by the second.

"See? That wasn't so hard.." As she spoke, her hands quickly moved to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor as her mouth watered at the sight of more of you. You moaned as she took one of your nipples into her mouth, the sensation shooting goosebumps across your body, causing you to grab onto her shoulders for stability.

It seemed as though she couldn't get enough of you, her actions calculated but filled with desperation. With your focus on her tongue, you had failed to notice one of her hands slipping under your skirt, until it traced against your slit. The action made your hips buck into her hand, the growing need for her apparent in your gaze.

She slipped her hand underneath the fabric and moaned into your ear at the arousal that had slipped out of you. "Gods, you're so wet for me, so desperate for mommy to fill you up, hmm?"

Just as you were about to respond, two fingers were pushed into your core, the stretch delicious and making a moan get caught in your throat. You moved your hips, loving the way her fingers curled in just the right spot, as your moans and whimpers grew louder.

"That's it, baby.. Ride my fingers like a good little whore.." Her words only surged you forward, the sweet feeling of release consuming you when her thumb started circling your clit. With a curl of her fingers and another touch against your sensitive bud, you came on her fingers as your body shuddered.

She pulled her fingers from you, admiring the slick that fell down against your inner thighs before holding them up to you. You took them in your mouth without question, swirling your tongue against her digits as you moaned at the taste of yourself. The sight seemed to be intoxicating for the blonde as her eyes never left the sight.

She pulled her fingers from your mouth and immediately took the rest of your clothes off. Her dress followed suit, the pale expanse of her body making itself known to you, and you couldn't help but stare. Once she noticed this, she lowered herself down, kissing you gently as she hands traced over your skin. The softness in the kiss was a welcomed one, though heavily contrasting the actions that were about to come.

She flipped you over, the cool wood of the desk only adding fuel to the flame building within you. You felt a new bulge form against you, only to let out a whimper after looking back and seeing her shifted cock against your core.

"You look so good underneath me.. gonna look so good taking mommy's cock.." She ran her cock along your slit, coating it in your juices as it rubbed against your clit each time.

You gripped the edge of the desk, holding your breath until she finally pushed into you. She groaned as she pushed into you, your walls immediately clenching around her as her hips met your backside. She pressed a kiss to your back before she spoke. "You take me so well, sweet thing…"

"Please, please, please, mommy.. I need-" You were cut off by your own moans, the feeling of her thrusting into you making your brain short circuit. Her pace was slow for only a moment, the sounds that left your mouth spurring her forwards to pound into you.

"You feel so good around mommy's cock, taking me so well.." You pushed your hips back with every thrust, meeting her own and seeing stars. She was so deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot with every pound, filling you up so well that your peak was building back up again. "Look at you so desperate for me.. sounding so beautiful when you take me.."

"I-I'm- fuck.. Please, let me cum.. Fill me up, just please don't stop-" Her nails dug into your hips to leave crescent marks there, her moans growing louder as she felt her own release building, and you were so good for her..

"How could I deny you when you ask so nicely… Cum around mommy's cock like a good little slut.." The room filled with your moans and the sound of your skin slapping together. With a few more rough thrusts of her hips, you came with her name on your lips, and she followed right after as your walls clenched around her cock.

She kept thrusting as she rode out her high, filling you with her hot seed. Your bodies shuddered, her thrusts coming to a stop and pulling out of you a few moments later. She placed kisses around your shoulders at your whimpers, the emptiness that made itself known making you look forward to the next time this would happen, in your tired state.

She took you in her arms, carrying you through her office and to her attached private quarters, before placing you gently on her bed. She disappeared for a few moments, allowing you to catch your breath and ground yourself, before coming back with a wet rag and a glass of water.

She guided the cup to your lips, helping and watching you drink some before putting the empty glass on her bedside table. The gentleness in her actions made your heart flutter, taking note of the contrast of her movements compared to the ones just moments before. After she cleaned you up, she came beside you and wrapped you in her embrace, and you immediately nuzzled your head in the crook her of neck.

The energy in the room from when this had all started had been completely removed, a newfound calm replacing all of it. Her hands traced along your skin as she placed kisses against your hairline.

"So.. it's the opposite, huh?" Your tone was playful and paired with the growing exhaustion the started to take over you. She laughed loudly, her sound rumbling in her chest and moving you as each one escaped. It was beautiful, and it made you wonder what else was hidden along with the woman you now saw.

She pulled you closer, wrapping the covers around you both before speaking again. "We'll talk about it over dinner later, hmm? Get some rest. After all… I'd hate to repeat myself.."

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: HEHE HAHAH thiiiiisssss was so nice to write after not being able to do anything.

I traveled a lot this weekend, only for more to follow within the next week, so I wasn't able to post anything but ! i'm slowly working on my requests - I'm getting there

i've literally been thinking about this since I got it because I didn't know what route I was going to take but I really like how it ended up

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist :) I hope you liked this one, anon. Thank you for the request

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐯𝐲𝐧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @s-c-rambledeggs @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

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querenciasturniolo · 9 months

Text

strange ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: lots of inner monologue, awkwardness, swearing, corniness, she/her pronouns

summary: request

a/n: this was requested again by the lovely @rainsoakedphoenix!!! this was super fun, and i had the idea to write it from chris’ point of view (still second person pov), so hopefully it works 🤞🏻

(this fic has jokes written in it about “chris having a crush on matt” bc of how prominent the jokes are in the fandom, but it doesn’t solely revolve around those jokes)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

The comments had been going on for ages, and Chris genuinely didn’t know how everyone found out.

the way chris looks at y/n in todays vlog ?

i never would have guessed the girl chris has been talking about is y/n, but honestly the last few vlogs have really swayed me

okay no, but how has this never occurred to me ? i would have thought she’d end up with matt

Sure, he’d always had a hard time hiding his emotions on his face, but surely the fans didn’t really know he had feelings for you. He’d tried to ignore all of the comments about it, until the edits started rolling in. Every other edit on his for you page was the way he looked at you when you weren’t looking, or the way he’d look away when you turned to face him with pink cheeks.

It was his fault, for letting it slip on a live that he had feelings for someone, and of course the fans started sleuthing. It wasn’t like he’d declared his love for you on the top of a building with a megaphone, but the swiftness in which the questioning comments turned into matter-of-fact statements on any vlog you were in or any photo dump you were included in had Chris realizing he really should learn to control his face.

“Have you seen this one?” Matt asked. Chris looked up from his phone and watched Matt’s screen. It was an edit, a few of the clips from Wednesday’s vlog showing how disgustingly enamored he looked with you. Chris groaned and flopped back on Matt’s bed. “Did you read the caption?” Matt asked, his voice sounding as if he was holding back a laugh.

Chris shook his head and mumbled a reply into the pillow, not even understanding himself as Matt read it out loud. “Chris really went from having a crush on Matt to having a crush on the girl equivalent.” Chris pulled the pillow off of his face and glared, Matt’s laughter spilling out of him as he pulled his phone back towards him.

“Don’t laugh at a joke about me having a crush on you, it’s fucking weird.” Chris grumbled. “And she isn’t even that much like you.”

Matt huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Tell that to the countless comparison edits of the two of us on my for you page.” He retorted, Chris rolling his eyes and sitting up to throw the pillow in his direction. He stood, Matt glancing up from his phone with a frown. “Where are you going?”

He turned. “The living room, your presence is getting on my nerves.” He said, Matt scoffing and turning his attention back to his phone.

Of course he’d seen the comparison edits, how could he not? You were soft spoken, only occasionally getting loud enough when whatever you were talking about was important to you. You were incredibly observant, and never the first person to point something out. All of the fans had said you and Matt were one in the same, which made sense as to how comfortable Chris was around you almost immediately. But it was still odd that the fans said that, because to Chris, you were just…you, and he couldn’t help but catch feelings for you.

In all reality, it hit him like a truck, and it scared the shit out of him. One day, the four of you were hanging out, and then out of nowhere, he had a headache with how fast the realization hit him. Things were different after that, at least for him. It felt as though everything that came out of his mouth directed at you was awkward, and that you could see right through the facade he held up to keep his feelings from you unknown.

You’d continued to be yourself throughout everything, though it worried him that any time the jokes about Chris’ crush on you were brought up, you’d immediately blush and change the topic. He didn’t want to immediately think that you had feelings for him as well, but he also didn’t want to think you didn’t. He didn’t know what he wanted, truthfully. He wanted everything out in the open, but at the same time he didn’t.

Chris groaned and flopped forward on the couch, his groan being muffled by the couch cushions. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the buzzing on his phone until he heard Nick walking down the stairs.

“Dude, Y/n’s been at the door for like five minutes, why the fuck didn’t you let her in?” He asked, not giving Chris a chance to answer before he descended the second staircase and opened the door. “Sorry about him, he’s in a mood or something.”

Chris heard your quiet reply and the sound of you and Nick climbing the stairs again. He still hadn’t moved from his position on the couch, even when he felt the cushion dip next to him.

“Everything alright?”

His heart rate spiked at the sound of your voice and he shrugged, though it didn’t work well. You laughed softly, and it felt like every nerve was on high alert. He finally pushed himself up and sat next to you, running a hand through his hair before meeting your eyes. You always had a look on your face, like you knew something was bothering him even though he hadn’t said anything.

“How do you do that?” He asked. You frowned.

“Do what?” You asked.

Chris sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You always know when something is bugging me.” He said. You chuckled and shook your head, your eyebrows raising.

“Chris, I walked in and you were laying face down on the couch. It’s pretty obvious that something is bothering you.” You said, your voice light and teasing.

He blinked and sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Jesus, that was dumb, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s funny. One thing I can tell is that you want to talk to me about it, unless that’s just me being hopeful.” You said, Chris looking over at you. It was true, you were the only person he wanted to talk to about this. He nodded, and he couldn’t help but relax when you adjusted to face him completely, and just watched him patiently.

It took him longer than he was expecting. He usually could say anything without a problem, whether he messed up his words or not, but this was you. He’d never had a problem talking to you about how he was feeling before, but it was near impossible when it directly applied to you.

You hadn’t pushed him, which he was grateful for. You sat right in front of him and waited patiently, nodding your head in encouragement each time he was about to speak, but not reacting when he didn’t. He groaned and threw his head back.

“Jesus, why is this so hard?” Chris mumbled. You shook your head and rested your hand over his, lightly squeezing it.

“Chris, it’s okay. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” You said, Chris sighing and nodding his head.

He was silent for a few minutes, but eventually met your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Do you wanna, like, go out? On a date?” He asked. You blinked, your face heating up and your heart racing as you processed what he said.

“Like, for real? This isn’t just because of all of the comments?” You asked, Chris smiling shyly and shaking his head.

“Well, the fans were right. I mean, about me liking you.” He said, wringing his hands together in his lap to take attention away from them shaking.

You couldn’t help but smile at him for a moment, looking away when his eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know it was true.” You said, your voice almost a whisper.

Chris glanced over at you, his chest pounding when he realized you hadn’t answered him, and that you couldn’t look at him.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t feel the same. It’s fine, really.” He said, pushing himself off of the couch. He paused when your hand gripped his wrist, looking down to see you grinning up at him. You shook your head and stood, trying your best to keep your eyes on his. It was insane, how someone’s eyes could be so intimidating but so kind and full of love all at once.

“I’d love to, really.” You said, blush traveling from his neck to his face. He cleared his throat and nodded, trying his best to fight off the dorky smile on his face.

“Okay.” He said, his voice quiet.

You chuckled. “Okay.” You repeated awkwardly, Chris’ smile coming in full force. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his eyes widening slightly when you dropped down to your heels. You smiled at him, entwining your fingers with his.

Your hand fit so well in his, like a puzzle piece. He watched as you looked down at your hands. He ran his thumb over the side of your hand, smiling at the way you looked up at him shyly. He frowned when your eyes lit up and you smiled at him, confusion clouding his face as you lightly bumped his shoulder with yours.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting so strange.”

#chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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astronomoney · 25 days

Text

bookends, bestfriends, deadends

Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x reader, 1.6k Warnings: slow burn, once again and as always with my love Jason this is NOT canon-compliant, Jason may be a tiny bit ooc but I tired Summary: In the months between saving Hera and setting sail for New Rome, Jason finds himself making a friend Authors note: ok, y’all, here’s the deal; I took a nap and woke up with an idea, so I started writing; then I realized I needed set up, so I wrote this. Now I have a full fic that doesn’t include my original idea, so I will have to make pt: 2, but at least it’s already almost all the way written

Camp was far too busy this year; even for the off-season, it felt like there were campers everywhere. With all the bustle, it was hard to find a moment of peace. That’s why you’d taken to the woods that day. Following the path you’d walked a million times to a little outcrop of ruins not far from the beach, deep enough to not be disturbed. You’d taken a thick blanket and draped it over a vaguely couch-shaped block of stone ages ago to use as a reading nook. It was calm and peaceful and empty, usually.

This time, when you got close enough to see your little piece of peace, there was already someone there. A blonde boy with a scar on his lip sitting on your faux couch and squinting at the book in his hand. Jason Grace. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew of him and Piper and Leo, all working to get ready for the next great prophecy.

Sneaking up on a former Roman soldier didn’t seem like the best plan, so you’d spoken out. “Guess this place isn’t so secret after all,” geez, what an opener.

Jason looked up with a start and got to his feet before you could say anything else. “Hi, hey, sorry, is this your spot? I wasn’t sure who’s it was, so I stayed to read some. I can go.”

“Oh no, please, you don’t have to,” you were quick to put up your hands and stop him from leaving. You two hadn’t necessarily talked before, but he had always seemed nice at meals and campfires, if not a little awkward. “You were here first. I can leave if you want to be alone.”

Jason paused, it seemed he was actually taking you in now, noticing the book in your hand, Don Quixote as opposed to the copy of War and Peace he held. “I don’t mind company,” he offered you a small nervous smile, it was so pure you had to just stare at it for a second before responding.

“Neither would I,” you finally said, returning the smile. You walked over and sat down tucking your legs under you and leaving plenty of room for Jason to sit on the other side.

He joined and read next to you for what felt like both hours and minutes. Two days later, you had beaten him there, so when he arrived, you smiled and scooted to the left, giving him room again on your right. Over the next month, you crossed paths at the ruins what must have been a dozen times. There was never much conversation; it was more of a silent agreement to enjoy each other’s company, and each day, the distance between your shoulders seemed to get ever so slightly smaller.

After a while, you got comfortable being directly next to him. Your shoulders would brush each time Jason moved to turn the page, and you couldn't help but notice how warm and strong he was. Silent meetings became small discussions about your current read, which turned into talks about other books you’d recommend to each other, which eventually morphed into a solid friendship. You would invite him to eat with your cabin since he had no one else at his. He would update you on the progress of the ship and the quest, you even got to know the other campers involved.

Over the next few months, your lives became completely intertwined. You spent most of your day with each other. You watched him train for the quest, pushing his limits in sparring sessions until he was too exhausted to do much of anything. You would drag him out to your spot in the woods on days when he’d gotten so focused he had to be forced to take a break. You’d even tried to help him get some memories back. He would eat with you, read with you, help you with whatever chores you had around camp, anything to spend more time with together.

He was the first person you turned to when you had something to say. He was the only one who remembered which campfire songs were your favorites or which books you’d reread depending on your mood. You cared about him so deeply, and you weren’t even sure how you’d come to feel so much in so little time. You truly hadn’t realized how much you needed him around you until you thought about just how soon he’d be leaving.

Of course, he would go back to Camp Jupiter; you knew that. This was never meant to be permanent; you were sure he missed his old life, his old friends, his old home. But part of you, somewhere in the deepest, most selfish part of your heart, wanted him to stay. You wanted him to forget about Rome, and Jupiter, and the quest. You wanted him to stay here with the strawberry fields and the books and the beach and with you. You wanted him to forget his sense of duty to a place that never cared and stay with someone who would give their whole heart away just to see him be happy for a moment longer. It was a feeling that filled you with guilt every time it crossed your mind.

It had occupied your thoughts nearly the entire day when Jason came to your cabin that evening. He knocked on the door until one of your siblings answered, and they called you over, muttering something about stupid and lovesick and so annoying that you hadn’t totally caught.

You stepped onto the porch and closed the cabin door, leaving Jason and you alone in the dim light of the setting son. He was handsome as ever, a fact that you had resolved not to dwell on; plenty of people found their closest friends to be stunningly beautiful, it wasn’t a big deal.

In fact, it was totally normal for someone to notice exactly when their best friend had skipped their usual haircut and started letting the military style grow or how their eyes exploded with color when the sun hit them just right. And, of course, there was no deeper reason for why you would pick up on every scrape or bruise he’d gotten from training. You were just hyper-observant, never mind that it only applied to one person.

As you took him in, scanning for the weariness you so often saw and he so often dismissed, you noticed more than anything how nervous he was. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um, I just wanted to, well.” He took a deep breath and let his words spill out a mile a minute. He told you that the Argo II would be ready to fly any day now. He told you how they were going to find Percy and how the first place they were going to check was New Rome. He brought up his old life, a life he wanted to remember, a life he thought he would remember when he got back there. These were all things you’d know and that filled you with dread, but you let him talk without interrupting. His rambling soon turned to a topic you haven’t expected, it turned to you. He told you how important you were to him, how much you’d helped him adjust to life at camp, and how much he appreciated everything you’d done for him.

As he went on and on, you felt your heart begin to pound. The way he was talking lit a spark inside your gut, and the borderline desperation in his voice made you dare to hope. The emotion in his eyes made you think maybe, just maybe, he felt the same kind of connection that you felt with him. You could tell it was going somewhere important, somewhere that made him nervous and hopefully at the exact same time.

“I guess I just realized while we were planning in the bunker,” he began to close in on his point. “How important you are to me, and I can’t imagine what it’d be like without you. You can say no of course, it’s a lot to ask of anyone but,” he took another breath. “Do you want to come with me to New Rome?”

That wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. The funny feeling in your gut shifted and morphed, flashing through disappointment for a brief moment. As Jason waited for an answer, you had to process exactly what he’d asked. Going back to New Rome meant he was going back to his old life, a fact you were all too aware of, but now, maybe you didn’t have to lose him to it. He still wanted you by his side. He still wanted you to be a part of his life.

“Yes,” you finally replied. “Yes, of course, I’ll go,” you watch the relief wash over him, his nerves visibly dispersing as one of the widest smiles you’d ever seen etched itself across his face.

In the next moment, he wrapped his arms around you. It was a bone-crushing hug that squeezed the air from your lungs, and you wrapped your own arms around him as tightly as you could. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered to you as you tried to stop your heart from exploding. This wasn’t how you wanted it, but at least for now, this would be enough.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

There's pt1 :) part two is almost done already because I wrote most of it before I even started all this, but what I can say, the keyboard got away from me. let me know if any of y'all want to be tagged in pt2 or in my general Jason taglist.

#jason grace x reader #percy jackson #writing fanfic #writing fanfiction #jason grace #jason grace x y/n #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #pjo x you #pjo hoo #hoo x reader #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #heros of olympus x reader

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mystsee · 7 months

Text

MY LOVE ✦ SIMON GHOST RILEY

¡FLUFFTOBER!

✦ about: simon was back from his mission with one purpose on his mind, you :D

✦ content: soft!simon, fluff, slight nsfw themes, make outs, established relationship, little anxiety, cuddles

✦ a.n: somehow seeing that ghost cosplay irl today gave a sudden burst of inspiration, INEEDTHATMAN

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

today was a very tiring work day, having to write a full written document of what was spoken in yesterday’s meeting was not tiring, but boring.

re listening the conversations at least 5x trying to understand what they where saying, sometimes the british folks in here tended to speak a bit fast, making it hard for you to understand whatever the heck they were discussing!

you could say, ever since simon left for that mission, you’ve been like a lost puppy around base. you’ve been used to just do everything with him next to you.

every time you sat down to work, there he was, by your side—sometimes even on his lap, your favorite place. his fingers would playfully trace patterns on your stomach, occasionally grabbing at the adorable rolls or gently pulling you closer, resting his face on your shoulder just watching whatever you were doing, sometimes even helping you when you were stressed or tired

it was like a sweet distraction, and his touch was nothing short of heavenly. his hands seemed to know the perfect spots, making every moment a delightful pause in your routine.

but now, you found yourself buried under the weight of the workload, yearning for the comforting touch that once turned mundane hours into blissful interludes.

the room echoed with the ticking of the clock, each passing second amplifying the anxiety that clung to your shoulders. the playful distractions had faded, replaced by a pressing realization that this night would be a lonely one.

you wanted to sleep, to escape the mounting pressure, but the looming uncertainty about simon’s return kept you on edge. the ache of not knowing when simon would be back or if he was okay gnawed at your nerves, pushing you to the brink of a nervous breakdown.

you craved his return more than ever. and simon was no different than you.

the separation, now stretching into a month, had carved an ache in his heart. each passing day fueled his anticipation, and the nights without you felt longer than ever. the need to have you back in his arms, to feel the warmth of your presence, became an insatiable craving.

now, on the plane back, he could almost taste the reunion. the hum of the engines seemed to sync with the rhythm of his heartbeat, both propelling him towards the destination that held the promise of your embrace.

his mind was a whirlwind of images – the way you'd smile when he surprised you, the laughter that echoed in shared spaces, and the softness of your presence as you slept in his arms.

as the plane carried him closer to you, his eagerness reached a crescendo. he was ready to step off that plane and into the warmth of your world, to wrap you in his arms and just keep you there forever.

and it almost seemed like that was about to become true. simon was out of the plane in an instant, the cold hitting his face but he didn’t care one bit, he just cared about finding you.

he just got rid of the big cold jacket and his vest, not wanting any barriers when he finally felt you again, went straight to your room. it was late already, close to midnight, you’d probably be sleeping he thought!

but it was quite the contrary, you were about to cry, it was the 10th time you heard this small 5 second fragment, and you couldn’t understand a shit, it was like he was speaking a whole other language, enough to make you frustrated.

you were on your desk, knees close your chest, head on top of your knees, and your index finger just clicking and clicking again everytime the audio stopped. it was making you mad.

two minutes later you just couldn’t anymore, your mind was overthinking about simon, simon and simon. gasping for breath, you needed fresh air, your feet carrying you to the backyards, a retreat from the suffocating walls. the chill in the air bit through, but the warmth of your fluffy sweatshirt provided a comforting shield.

meanwhile, Simon, nearing your hallway, was jarred by the abrupt slam of a door. curiosity knitted into his features as he wondered about the disturbance at such an hour. time seemed to pause when he turned the corner, catching sight of you. your world hanging on the precipice of a breakdown, weariness etched on your face as your gaze lingered on the ground.

unbeknownst to you, simon punctuated his steps more, you, lost in the swirl of your own emotions, remained oblivious until the familiar cadence of footsteps broke through your solitude. at the speed of light, your eyes flickered up, and there he was – your simon, making his way toward you.

"simon" you breathed out, a soft whisper escaping your lips. the astonishment painted across your face mirrored the surge of emotions within.

the uncertainty of when he would return made the sight of him standing before you, muscles defined beneath a black sweatshirt, feel like a dream. as you sprang running toward him, the anticipation built, and the tears you hadn't realized were brimming spilled over.

without a second thought, you dashed towards him, his arms already open wide for you. as your arms wound around he whispered “my love” in a voice so relieved that it melted away the distance and uncertainty.

as your faces drew near, his breath whispered against your hair, a whisper of promises and unwavering devotion.

“i missed you so so much lovie” said simon while hugging your head even closer to him. his voice sounded so soft it was even unreal to him.

his hands traced soothing circles on your back, a gesture so familiar and comforting. it was as if he was trying to convey all the love that words couldn’t capture.

but simon wanted more. he effortlessly lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. the world blurred as he spun you around, a gesture that felt like a dance in the moonlit night. his arms, a fortress of warmth, held you securely.

simon pressed you against him, his heart beating in tandem with yours. the fabric of your hoodie pressed against his sweatshirt, and the chill in the air was forgotten in the warmth of shared laughter.

as if memory muscle, your hands instinctively went to his balaclava, pulling it to the middle of his face, the familiarity of his lips, so soft and kissable, now revealed, made your heart swell.

without hesitation, you kissed him, pouring all the longing and joy of the past month into that single moment. it was a kiss filled with the weight of separation and the relief of reunion. his lips met yours in perfect harmony, and the world seemed to pause, allowing this shared ecstasy to unfold.

simon, in that moment, became not just a figure of your imagination during the lonely nights but a tangible reality, warm and alive.

in response to your passionate embrace, simon deepened the kiss, pulling you even closer as if trying to defy the very forces that separated you. his lips melded with yours, making all kind of noises of appreciation, of being back with you, making you even more needy to be near him.

he missed you as much as you missed him.

“i missed you so much simon” simon could hear the agitation from your voice. he knew you’d be having very heavy work this week, you had a very important meeting, a very important step in your career. yet simon couldn’t help but feel disappointed for not being there.

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t there love” “don’t you worry about that simon” you said looking him straight to his eyes “all i care is that you’re here now” he saw you smile, the smile that made him all warm inside, the smile he absolutely loved seeing every morning.

“how about we take a shower big guy” simon just laughed, he came straight to see you he forgot he did just came in fact from the dessert, probably stinking.

the shower was filled with love, your hands expertly massaging tender spots on his back making simon groan from satisfaction. washing his hair, his face, his arms, all of him, every now and then just you clinging onto him to hug him for a few minutes. he was here again with you.

you two were basically one in that shower, not a small space in between you.

simon kept turning you over to help you “clean” yourself, but that just meant him just massaging your breasts, waist, bum, basically all the things he absolutely loved holding on to when you were distracted. and you laughing at him “you’re getting distracted again” “i’m sorry i just can’t deny them attention” you just rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny how much you loved the attention you were receiving hehe.

after cleaning up, simon changed into the hoodie you absolutely adored, and laid in bed waiting for you. he saw all your work piled up on your desk, clearly seeing the stress you were going through moments before he found you.

as you went outside the bathroom, you saw simon, literally waiting for you, patting his chest. your second favorite place. smiling you reached to his side, cuddling next to him, clinging like a koala, your leg on top of his hip, hands on his neck, the other under his back hair, just playing with it, making simon shiver once again from satisfaction.

"how was the dessert?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued about simon’s experience in a place you've never been, let alone lived in for a month. his voice, deep and resonant, rumbled like an earthquake, making you giggle.

"ugly as hell" came his reply, and you couldn't help but laugh at the honesty. "what do you mean? didn’t you see any camels?" you added playfully.

simon chuckled, his laughter carrying a hint of amusement. "oh, plenty of camels. i even tried to have a conversation with one, but they're not great at small talk."

you couldn't help but snicker at the mental image of simon engaged in a one-sided chat with a camel in the vast desert. the quirky exchange became a moment of shared laughter, turning the conversation about a "dessert" into a sweet and funny memory.

along the conversation, you shifted positions, now lying on your side, and simon followed suit. the moonlight painted the room in a gentle glow as simon’s fingers delicately played with strands of your hair. you were pressed against his chest, your leg draped over his hip, creating a cozy tableau that felt like a warm hug.

with a softness in his voice, simon began lulling you to sleep with tales of the mission. each word was a whispered melody, painting vivid pictures of his adventures that unfolded in the vast desert.

"imagine this," he began, his voice a blend of playfulness and warmth, "a camel giving me side-eye because I accidentally interrupted its afternoon siesta. i swear, I've never seen such a judgmental camel."

you couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image, feeling the vibrations of your laughter against simon’s chest. his tales continued, each one sprinkled with his unique sense of humor.

as his hands gently massaged your hips and traveled up to your chest, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of cuteness wash over you. the tenderness in his touch was a language of its own, expressing care and affection without uttering a word.

you found yourself in a dreamlike state, murmuring sweet nothings and declarations of love. "i love your hands" you blabbered, a smile playing on your lips as simon’s warmth enveloped you.

his heart swelled with affection, seeing your drowsy contentment. he absolutely loved how affectionate you became when you were sleepy.

simon, feeling the warmth of your love, whispered, "and you don't know how much I love you." the words lingered in the air, a sweet promise exchanged in the quiet of the night.

as sleep claimed you, simon held you close, savoring the precious moment of having you in his arms again. he slept like a baby, content in the embrace of love that had transcended the distance of a month, finding solace in the shared dreams and whispered affirmations that filled the night.

he felt complete again ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

i live for soft simon 🥲 wishing i was reader rn, anyway!

hope i made this fluffy enough jiji!!!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #cod fic #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost cod #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x female #ghost cod fic #ghost cod fluff #fluff #fluffy #fluffy fluffy #soft simon riley #soft simon ghost riley

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arvandus · 8 months

Text

The Divine

Barbatos (Obey Me!) x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ content! Minors DNI and DO NOT follow my blog! All minor and ageless blogs will be blocked! Fem!Reader (dress, heels, fem-coded terms of endearment, etc.), AFAB!Reader, short-coded reader (but Barb's a demon so we can say "magic!" and just suspend disbelief; aka let's pretend they can adjust their own height if they want); friends to lovers, romance, hurt/comfort, first date, lots and lots of talking, first kiss and first (and second) time together (aww yissss), questionable uses for a tail, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), clit stim, shared bath, reader goes pee (is this an issue for people...? practice good sex hygiene, peeps!), reader gets carried (he got that demon strength, babyyy), rough(ish) sex (did I mention demon strength??). UHHH I think that's it. This is long as hell, almost 15k GOOD LUCK BYE.

Author's Note: This is my submission for The Coffee Corner's "Slice of Life" Collab Event! There are so many amazing writers, please go check it out and see if there's anything that piques your interest!

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The opera house was filling up quickly, hundreds of demons taking their seats. Barbatos was calm and efficient in finding yours amongst the bustling of busy bodies. They were excellent seats, to be expected from Lord Diavolo’s butler who prided himself on his perfection. Not too close, not too far, and located central enough without having to climb over multiple sets of legs if you needed to step away at all during the performance.

Barbatos helped you to your seat first, his hand gently placed on your lower back, before sitting down next to you.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile. “Very much so, thank you.”

You normally weren’t so formal with him. After all, you’d known each other for more than a year during your time here in the Devildom and been on many outings together as acquaintances and later as friends. But there had always been a wall in place, a boundary that was never crossed nor spoken of.

Barbatos was kind, polite, and witty; he was caring and doting, a perfectionist, and by far one of the most mature demons you’d had the pleasure of getting to know. However, despite all of that, Barbatos was also a private individual, even when he freely provided facts about himself and his interests, and was forthcoming with his motivations. No matter how much he exposed, there always seemed to be far more lurking beneath the surface that was left unsaid. Add in the fact that he took his job as Lord Diavolo’s private butler so seriously, and it sometimes made it difficult to distinguish his acts of kindness as obligation versus personal desire. No matter how kind or sweet his words were, no matter how close you felt with him at any given moment, you were always, always aware that he kept himself at a distance. It made your own affections for him feel one-sided, a heavy gift you held in shaky hands with nowhere to put it.

You’d always had the keen sense that he knew, of course; you weren’t exactly good at hiding it. But he’d never acknowledged it, at least not out-right; even though you could have sworn there were times where you felt his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, or moments where he held your gaze for longer than necessary. But each time, you’d written it off as wishful thinking, your heart desperately looking for patterns within the random coincidences of life.

But now, things were different. They had been, ever since that moment he’d plucked that leaf out of your hair with soft affection in his eyes, followed by a quick stolen glance at your parted, stunned lips. It was all the evidence you needed, and all the evidence that you’d likely get, to know that Barbatos was harboring a flame of his own. After all, you’d only seen it because he’d let you see it. You had acted on it immediately, the invitation to dinner tumbling from your lips in place of a confession. He had accepted with a smile, and you could still feel the elation weaved into your chest like a keepsake as you revisited the memory.

You were yanked from the heart-pounding past to the nerve-wracking present when Barbatos’s fingers intertwined with yours. Your pulse quickened at the contact. The touch of his skin against yours was so intimate and new, that it felt foreign and strangely forbidden.

“I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said. “I apologize that the invitation was so last minute. There were... complications.”

You gave a small, teasing laugh, more to trick your own nerves than anything else. “You act as if we haven’t gone out together before. And I don’t mind last minute; spontaneity keeps things fun.”

Your words felt like lies, a feigned nonchalance in the face of what was so obviously a shift in your relationship with each other, a testing of deeper waters.

“True,” he said. “But this time is different, isn’t it?”

It was so like him to say outright what was already in your mind. Yet he always managed to do it with such simplicity that it stripped away the anxiety while still leaving the importance. You swallowed the dryness in your throat and gave a small nod.

He was correct, of course... this - whatever it was – was still very much new for the both of you.

“Besides,” he continued, his lips curving playfully, “it has been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Four weeks,” you blurted out. Then you clamped your lips shut in embarrassment.

He gave a soft laugh. “Three weeks and six days, to be exact.”

You gave him a surprised glance. “But who’s counting?” you teased.

Barbatos smiled. “I often find myself counting the time when we are apart.”

Your body grew hot at his confession, his words vibrating against your skin as they buried themselves into you, becoming a part of you. No doubt you will be reflecting on that single line for days to come.

Barbatos watched the change in your expression with intrigue.

“However, it is hardly our fault, is it not?” he continued. “The brothers have been keeping you plenty busy I hear, and the young master requires constant supervision to keep him from chasing his flights of fancy.”

It always amused you when Barbatos referred to the massive, muscular Prince as ‘young;’ it reminded you time and time again how ancient Barbatos really was. He sounded like a tired uncle reigning in a toddler, and looked the part too, his eyes tired as he watched other demons pass by to take their seats.

“Speaking of Lord Diavolo,” you chimed, “wasn’t he the one who was supposed to join you for this?”

Barbatos returned his eyes to you, only to be met by a narrowed, mischievous gaze and grinning lips. Barbatos’s smile reappeared deeper than before.

“Something tells me that he intentionally had me set this up and then abandoned it at the last minute in order to allow us this opportunity,” he confessed.

“How very generous of him,” you whispered as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

Barbatos drew his thumb over the soft pad of your hand where your thumb and finger joined. The sensitive nerves tingled, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Yes,” he agreed as his emerald eyes stared into yours. “Very generous.”

You leaned towards him slightly, your own thumb drawing along his hand in return, as your voice dropped to a whisper. “It would be in ill taste if we did not maximize this opportunity that he’s provided.”

“Ill taste indeed,” he muttered as he glanced down at your lips. His gaze lingered there for one heartbeat, two. Just long enough to get you leaning slightly closer in hopeful anticipation. Then he broke his gaze and stared ahead. “Lets us fully enjoy this performance then,” he stated.

You stared at him, mildly stunned by his reservedness, until you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He was toying with you. On purpose.

Your lips turned downward into a pout and you gave a humph as you leaned back in your chair. Beneath the hum of the audience settling in, you heard the faintest hint of a quiet chuckle in his chest.

You still had yet to kiss him. The first date was very nice and sweet, a simple dinner at a restaurant you knew you both enjoyed. You had wanted to keep the first date familiar and unassuming, to allow for the possibility that you’d been wrong, that he’d taken your invitation as a dinner between friends rather than love interests. It wasn’t long before that worry was eliminated by the touch of his hand over yours at the table, followed by a long swipe of his thumb over your knuckles.

But of course, the private moment was short-lived, because wherever you were, a brother wasn’t far behind. It was Asmo this time who’d spotted you, miffed at the realization that you were out with someone other than him, and looking dolled up to boot. Which then, of course, led to him inviting himself to your very obvious one-on-one with Barbatos. The demon had given you a look to silently inquire if such behavior was acceptable, and you were too kindhearted to give Asmo the boot, so you surrendered, folding like a deck of cards.

The regret and guilt still sat heavy on your mind. You should have been firmer, set some boundaries. But boundary setting was always difficult when the brothers were involved.

Barbatos would have been able to do it; the look that he’d given you had made that clear enough. He was a kind demon, yet firm if he needed to be. And you had a keen sense that you never wanted to get on his bad side. But he’d taken the intrusion gracefully, and parted ways later that evening without a hint of disappointment or disapproval.

Even so, you’d assumed you’d botched any future opportunities at a second date with him. Sure, he may not have expressed disappointment in the moment, but you knew he was a master at disguising his true feelings when he wanted to. So, it had taken you by surprise when he had texted you that he’d enjoyed himself and wanted to try again, albeit something that could be either more structured, or more private to prevent future interruptions.

It had taken far longer than expected to follow through, to the point that you’d almost lost hope. But finally, here you sat with the apple of your eye looking delicious and refined in his black tuxedo, while you donned a simple strapped gown of your own. The lights above dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, as the orchestra completed the final checks on their instruments, ensuring everything was in tune.

Barbatos’s hand continued to hold yours, the action feeling almost possessive in nature, a warning to any who might see the two of you together. A part of you wondered if any of the brothers had managed to sneak their way in and were watching from a distance, and if so, did Barbatos know. There was no way to know for certain. Either way, if they were out there somewhere, they couldn’t reach you now, not without causing a scene.

Now your seats made more sense. You had wondered why you weren’t located in one of the more private balcony boxes above; it certainly seemed like a place Barbatos would have preferred. And had he come with Diavolo like originally intended, he very well might have. You certainly couldn’t have the Lord of the Devildom sitting amongst the masses.

Which means Barbatos likely figured out a way to change the seating arrangement as soon as he learned of Diavolo’s little scheme. This was clearly by design, a way to ensure your second date would not be interrupted like the first. You let out a relaxed breath and reclined against the back of your seat as you prepared yourself to become immersed in the opera.

The lights overhead went black, leaving only the stage washed in a white glow.

“Y/N...” Barbatos started, his eyes on you. “There’s something you should know about this performance...”

“Hm?” you replied distractedly with barely a glance.

But then the orchestral music began, and you shushed him with a pat on his arm. Barbatos’s words died on his tongue, as his hand tightened around yours.

The music started strong and then fell like cascading water into a flurry of notes. You watched as the music played, as the singers entered the scene.

You had expected English, or one of the romance languages that you often associated with opera, or even an older, biblical language such as Hebrew. But instead, the language was like nothing you’d ever heard, notes sung in such a way that it felt entirely inhuman and beyond the realm of possibility. You stared, bewildered, unable to understand any of it, even as the earth-shattering beauty of it crashed over you. There were no screens with subtitles framing the stage, no form of translation at all. There was nothing; just your eyes and the music to try to decipher the story that was unfolding. It was clear it had to do with angels and demons, and that there was a forbidden love story between them, which, you could deduce would lead to conflict. But the details were lost as soon as they had opened their mouths.

Barbatos watched you in silent observation as your emotions transformed and danced across your face from confusion, to wonder, to awe, to fear, and back again.

His hand squeezed yours, a tether keeping you from losing yourself in the panic of your mortal brain trying to make sense of something beyond its understanding.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern. Your wide eyes shot over to him; it took a moment for recognition to register in your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. But I don’t understand them at all. What language is this??”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he replied. He watched and waited for your brain to process.

“...wait. What?”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he repeated. “The language of God, spoken by angels and demons. It’s no surprise you don’t understand it, you’re not meant to unless it’s directly intended for you.”

You didn’t know how to put into words that it felt like you simultaneously understood yet didn’t. The language didn’t sound like words, and yet it left imprints upon you, feelings and emotions stamped upon your soul that you could only vaguely understand.

Barbatos continued as you stared back at the stage in shock. “Many of the operas composed here are done so in the Divine Language as it withholds the purest meaning and form, and the notes cannot be duplicated in mortal speech. Had I known you were joining me tonight instead of the young master, I might have selected a more appropriate performance.”

He watched you as you grimaced against a particularly moving crescendo.

“Why does it feel like it’s in my head?” you whispered.

“Because it is,” he whispered back. “You are fortunate that you have Angelic ancestry in you.”

You gave him a confused look. “Why?”

“Because if you didn’t, you’d be bleeding out your ears.”

“What??” your voice raised in panic, and multiple demons seated near you shushed you. You lowered your voice again, but the panic was still there. “Barbatos!”

Barbatos gave a quiet chuckle as he pulled something small from his pocket. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just put these in your ears. It will lessen the impact.”

You took the small black box from his hand and opened it to see a set of ear plugs. You wasted no time in putting them in. Immediately, the panic and chaos you felt eased, the thrumming reduced to a hum.

“Why didn’t you give me these earlier? A warning would have been nice,” you quietly seethed.

Barbatos almost rebutted that he’d tried when the lights went down, but decided against it when he saw you fold your hands protectively in your lap. You were angry. He gently pried your hands apart gently with his and twined his fingers with yours in a soft hold. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t look at him either.

“I promise you weren’t in any danger,” he whispered close to your ear. “I would not have brought you here if it wasn’t safe.”

Your body remained stiff, but you finally looked at him. “It felt intentional,” you replied. “Like it’s something Diavolo would have you do to test me. Tell me, Barbatos... are you here for work or pleasure?”

Surprise flashed across his face, followed by the return of his gentle smile. He leaned even closer to your ear until his lips ghosted over your pinna. “Pleasure,” he whispered, his voice low. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly. “Definitely pleasure. I assure you there were no ulterior motives.”

The way his voice alone nearly unraveled you... your thighs tightened against their impact and you swallowed as you stared ahead at the stage, struggling to follow the story that you were missing.

But you could be horny and angry at the same time. You set your jaw stubbornly.

“You swear?” you asked as you kept your eyes on the stage.

He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to look at him, his expression serious.

“I swear,” he replied.

Then he placed as soft brush of lips to your forehead. It stole your breath as a shiver passed through every nerve.

Your anger finally dimmed, soothed by the genuineness of his words and the reassurance of his affection. Your fingers finally closed around his in reciprocity, and Barbatos returned his green eyes to the stage.

A long moment passed as you both watched the performance. The impact of the Divine Language continued to wash over you, dragging vague meaningful pictures to your mind as your emotions danced like puppets. The earplugs helped, keeping you from feeling like your head was splitting open. But you still felt lost in it, carried away on a foreign tide.

Barbatos noticed. He leaned close and whispered. “Would you like me to translate for you?”

His breath tickled your ear and your chest tightened as your heart tried to grow wings and escape. You angled your head to him slightly; your eyes breaking from the stage briefly.

“Please,” you whispered.

And so, he quietly summarized the plot and dialogue into your ear as his eyes watched. The male and female lead sang to each other, their voices rich with emotion, their body language communicating their love.

“They are of two different worlds,” he explained. “Yet they love each other unequivocally.”

You smiled softly. “Romantic...”

“Very,” he agreed. “She is expressing worry that heaven will cast her out for falling for him. And he is promising to never leave her.”

The music rose in crescendo. It filled you, and your chest tightened like a balloon about to burst. You took deep breaths to allow the sensations to pass through you.

You had anticipated appreciating the music, being impressed by the vocal gymnastics. But this was proving to be so much more, a visceral experience that would leave you reeling by the time it was over.

As you watched, Barbatos continued to translate. The angel was cast out as predicted and was cursed to walk the earth and live her life as a human. This allowed them to continue their romance without judgment and they rejoiced. But shortly after, things took a turn for the worst, as they often did in operas.

“She’s sick...” you commented quietly as you watched the performance.

Barbatos glanced at you briefly from the corner of his eye. “She’s mortal.”

Something inside your chest twisted, a stirring of something heavy that you’d been struggling to ignore ever since you committed to staying in the Devildom. You tried to push it back down, to watch the story continue.

But maybe it was the way that it hit too close to home; or maybe it was the way the Divine Language seemed to invade every crevice of you like a living thing, forcing your body to experience something beyond what it was built for. Either way, it brought forth every worry, every fear that plagued you late at night when you were alone in your bed. It was the way the loneliness that you struggled to ignore within yourself began to gain weight, a black hole pulling you into its relentless gravity. It was the type of loneliness that came with the sense of otherness, of being separate; the awareness of being where one did not truly belong no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you stared at Barbatos’s hand holding your own. Suddenly, this – all of this – felt foolish. So foolish. What were you doing, going on a date with a demon? Allowing yourself to open your heart for someone who would outlive you ten times over? The time would be gone in a blink, your mortal life small and insignificant.

Your tear-rimmed eyes looked back to the stage. You watched as the female lead died, succumbing to her illness, and her partner mourned her.

Would Barbatos mourn you in such a way? Would he watch you grow old and feeble while he stayed young and flawless? Did demons and angels even love the same way that humans did? How much could one human life really matter anyway, to someone who was essentially immortal? You were a blip in his life, a small blink of time that would come and go, a nice little hobby to pass the time. Whereas for you, he would be your entire world, your entire life if things panned out the way your foolish heart hoped they would.

Because there was no one else you wanted. No one else that even came close.

The thoughts shook you to your core until it felt as if you were being split in two, a great chasm running right down the center of you between what your heart longed for and what your head knew to be true. It made you begin the grieving process of what you would inevitably lose before you’d ever had a chance to even have it. The pain was a wild beast in your chest, threatening to break free, to rip open your rib cage and let your heart bleed out in front of everyone. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream.

You wanted to leave.

You unlatched your hand from Barbatos’s, avoiding his eyes as you grabbed your purse from the floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Excuse me...”

You made your way past the few seated individuals that blocked you from the aisle. As soon as you’d freed yourself, you walked quickly towards the exit, a race against time between the sobs in your throat that were rising to the back of your tongue and your proximity to the door.

You crossed the threshold with your hand over your mouth. Already, you felt the wet tears sliding down your cheeks, your makeup effectively ruined.

And so was your date, you were certain. The way you’d bolted from Barbatos without a second thought, without explanation... If you hadn’t offended him before on your first date, then you certainly did now.

You removed the earplugs from your ears and stuffed them into your purse.

You could still hear the music, could still hear the anguish in the male demon’s notes as he mourned the loss of his love. Even from here, the Divine Language found you, gripped you, choked you. You practically ran out of the opera house into the cold, wet evening of the devildom, and with it came silence – blessed, sweet silence. A soft rain was falling, coating everything until it shined wet.

You quietly walked out from the covered entryway, past the great pillars that held up the grand architecture. You turned your face up to the sky with closed eyes and let the water mist your skin. Then you sat down on the steps and put your head in your arms and cried.

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar soft steps of Barbatos’s polished black shoes on the wet stone. A moment later, the rain above you stopped and the sound of pitter-pattering on fabric met your ears. Still, you didn’t look up, your shame too heavy to lift your head.

You felt the presence of him, felt him as he circled around to your front. You peeked through your arms just in time to see him kneel in front of you on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed through sniffles.

“What happened?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...”

More tears welled up as your words caught in your throat. You wiped at your eyes in an attempt to make them stop, but more took their place. Barbatos took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to you. You took it and held it in your hands, your fingers rubbing across the soft silk.

“Did you not like the performance?” he asked, his tone laced with worry. “Perhaps the earplugs were not enough.”

You couldn’t help but give a sad, soft laugh. “No, I did. I did like it. It’s just...”

Again, your words faltered. Why was it so difficult to say? It was as if the emotions you felt were too large, unable to fit into the neat little boxes that human language provided. If only you could speak the language of angels and demons...

“Barbatos...” you started softly, “why did you ask me out?”

His veridian eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You mean to the opera?”

“No, I mean ask me out. On a date.”

His gaze softened, although the confusion in them remained. “Because I care for you. I had thought that years of mutual pining and silent eye contact every time we were in the same room together made that obvious.”

You half chuckled. It wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was...

He tilted his head slightly, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the sadness that flitted across his face.

“Do you not feel the same?” he asked. “Perhaps I have misunderstood-“

“No! No, that’s not it,” you protested, your hands reaching out to grasp his.

Not that. Anything but that...

You kept his free hand in yours, your fingers following his knuckles from one finger to the next.

“What I mean is, why me?”

Barbatos’s fingers wrapped around your own. “Why not you?”

“Because. I’m mortal.” Your voice cracked, and Barbatos straightened slightly.

“Ah. I see.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m making a mistake. Like I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“Feel what way?”

More tears fell from your lashes as a sob escaped your throat. “Happy.”

You released your hold on him and buried your face in your hands.

Barbatos touched your arm, his fingers wrapping around it gently. You felt the rain suddenly return followed immediately by the sound of the umbrella touching the stone steps. You looked at it slightly confused, just in time for Barbatos’s other hand to take your chin and tilt your face up until you were looking at him.

“And why shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

You stared at him, watching as his hair flattened in the rain, running rivulets down his pale skin.

“Because my time here will be so brief compared to you, to everyone. I’ll keep changing and grow old, and you’ll all stay the same.”

Barbatos stared at you for a long moment, his expression soft yet neutral. He cocked his head slightly and released your arm to wipe your wet hair from your face before trailing his fingers along your cheek to your jaw line.

“What makes you think your longevity will be brief?”

You furrowed your brow. “Because I’m human...?”

“So is Solomon...”

He had a point there. But...

“But Solomon is a powerful sorcerer.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like him... I’m just barely beginning to grasp the things he’s teaching me.”

“Do not mistake knowledge for power,” Barbatos said.

“I thought knowledge was power,” you teased, the first hint of a smile on your lips.

Barbatos smirked at your cheekiness. “I stand corrected. However, the point I’m trying to make is this: your power is your own and always will be. And trust me when I say that your power is vast. Already you’ve been able to wield it in ways that Solomon could only dream. All that you require now is the knowledge, and that will come with time.”

“But my time is limited.”

“So it is for all of us, one way or another,” Barbatos replied. “Do not let a little thing called Time stop you. You will have plenty enough of it to figure out how to bend its effects to your will just as Solomon has.”

“Is that what your visions of the future show you?” you teased.

Barbatos’s soft smile tightened slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t look into the future unless Lord Diavolo instructs me to. But even if I could, I wouldn’t look at yours.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

Barbatos stared down at the ground, his lashes hiding his eyes. “Because no good could come of it. Despite my age, I am not immune to the impact of loss. And witnessing the loss of you in the future would only taint what time I have with you in the present.”

A silence fell between you as you thought upon his words. They brought a warmth into your chest at the realization of how much you meant to him. And yet... it only made your concerns feel that much more valid.

You didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the present, and not in the future. Even if it was due to circumstances beyond your control.

“What if... what if I can’t do what Solomon does? What if I can’t figure it all out? The lifespan of a human seems so short...”

Barbatos looked back up at you, a sad smile on his lips.

“If your time is to be so short, then perhaps it is best to enjoy the time that you do have, freely without the burden of guilt. You deserve happiness, in whatever way you can find it. Don’t let your fears taint what your heart wants.” His hand found yours, and he stared at it as his thumb brushed over your fingers. “And... if I may be a little bit selfish... let me have this time with you now, if you’ll have me. I will feel your absence regardless, and I’d rather be able to look upon the past with fondness instead of regret.”

“Barbatos...” you whispered. Your hand came up and brushed his long locks back, tucking them behind his left ear. “Of course I’ll have you.”

He smiled softly at you. “Nothing pleases me more.”

A thought still bothered you though, a question itching at the back of your mind, springing up more worry. It made your gaze distant, distracted.

“Barbatos... what happened at the end of the story?” you asked.

“Hm? You mean the opera?” he replied. You nodded. His smile grew. “When the female lead dies, her soul is unable to ascend to heaven due to being cast out. So, there is only one place left for her to go.”

Your eyes widened. “She went to hell. She got to be with him in the end.”

Barbatos’s smile filled his face, his eyes crinkling and perfect white teeth showing. He was so beautiful it made your chest ache. “She did.”

Your gaze became distant again with thought. “When I die.... where do you think I’ll go?”

“Hmmm,” Barbatos pondered, his fingers on his chin. “Well, to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess. Although as the keeper of the Seven Deadly Sins, it may tip the scales more in favor of here. Relations between heaven and hell have been improving, but there are still rules that must be followed. And any who support demons usually end up coming here.”

“Wait, so I’m going to go to hell??” you said indignantly as mirth danced in your eyes.

Barbatos grinned. “As if I’d ever let my girl go to such a place. No, I would bring you here to the Devildom.”

Your body flushed hot at his words. “Your girl...”

Barbatos took your chin in his fingers, his thumb brushing against your lower lip gently. “My girl,” he affirmed.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you, his lips cool and soft against yours in the cold of night. You leaned into it, your hands coming up instinctually to cup his chilled face as you reciprocated his affection.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, before returning for a second kiss, his lips firmer, warmer. You opened your mouth to him, every part of you aching for more of him until he filled you, surrounded you, until your head couldn’t think anymore and all that mattered was him, you, this moment. Barbatos’s grip on you tightened as his warm tongue found yours, tasting you, claiming you.

He pulled away just a fraction again, his eyes shining as the bony wings framing his head flickered and vanished. His grip on you was strong, one hand holding you by the curve of your jawline, and the other gripping your waist. You had the keen sense that in that moment, he was torn between behaving like the gentleman he felt you deserved, versus taking you right there on the cold, wet steps in the empty street.

The evidence of Barbatos’s desire for you shocked you. He was always so reserved, so in control, that seeing him grapple with his lesser instincts because of you made your own instincts want to respond in kind, to lure him out of his carefully crafted persona. You’d been so starved for his affection for so long, that now even the smallest crumbs of his desire felt like a feast.

But of course, his reason won out. Slowly he stood, his hand holding yours as he helped you to your feet.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” he stated, even as his eyes remained locked on your lips.

Numb with need, your body buzzing, you nodded silently.

Barbatos picked up the umbrella and shook the water off it before placing it over the two of you. Then he offered his arm and you hooked yours with his as he led you to the car.

The ride back was silent, although you continued to hold his hand in your lap for the entire duration. The drive felt far too short for your liking. A sense of dread filled the pit in your stomach as the House of Lamentation came into view and it didn’t leave even as Barbatos released your hand with a kiss and exited the vehicle to open your door for you. You took his offered hand and stepped out, your gaze locked on the many windows that stared back like countless eyes. You could feel them on your back as you turned around at the gate to face Barbatos to begin your goodnights.

Barbatos could sense your unease.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I’m ready to go in yet. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Your eyes were downcast bashfully as you stared at the buttons of his white shirt, the black bow tie at his neck.

He gave a gentle laugh. “I don’t want the night to end either. It is far too early to be saying goodbye. Where would you like to go?”

You glanced up at him as you felt heat roll across your body, the memory of your kiss still fresh in your mind. “Some place quiet... and private.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared down at you. “I know just the place,” he finally said.

He led you back to the car, and with a final glance back at the mansion, you sat down in the passenger seat. He closed your door, and soon you were on the road again. It wasn’t long before he pulled the car up through the lavish, scroll-decorated iron gates of Lord Diavolo’s castle. Your eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Here?”

Barbatos glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You said you wanted private. This is the only place I can guarantee for sure that no one else will find you.”

“I would have thought it’d be the first place they’d look,” you replied as you stared up at the great, towering spires.

“Oh, they most certainly will. But as you know, the castle in vast, with many rooms and dangers. And there is one room they will never be able to enter without explicit invitation.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“Mine,” he stated with a small smirk.

A giddy dizziness clouded your mind as he got out of the car and came around to assist you.

As you stepped out, he continued. “Due to the dangerous nature of my room, there are many wards and spells that keep unwelcome guests from entering. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

You realized Barbatos was referring to the many doors that led to infinite pasts and futures.

“I’ve been to your room before; I don’t recall it being very... comfortable,” you confessed.

Barbatos laughed as he led you up the steps. “That’s because you only entered the part I wanted you to enter. My personal space has far better amenities than just stairs and doors. Did you think I just hung like a bat from the ceiling while I slept?” he teased.

You chuckled. “The thought had crossed my mind...”

Up the stairs and down the winding, complex halls he led you, taking sharp turns and walking around blank spaces of floor to avoid hidden dangers. Finally, you were outside his door. With his hand holding yours, he opened it to reveal a pristine bedroom with an ornate four post bed with a canopy. A large fireplace sat to the right, already lit, an ornate rug and sofa sitting in front of it. There was a sitting area near the tall glass doors that opened onto a balcony with a tea cart close by. It was simple in its elegance, the room cast in a warm yellow-orangish glow from the fire. Not a speck of dirt was present, and suddenly you felt very unclean, your dress and hair still wet from earlier.

“May I use your bathroom?” you asked.

“Of course, right through there.” Barbatos motioned to the double doors to the left as he made his way to his tea cart. “I will fix us something to drink.”

You stepped into his bathroom and shut the door. It was incredibly spacious. Not as grand as Asmo’s of course, but it most certainly had every necessary amenity and then some. You checked yourself in the mirror and nearly gasped at the state of your makeup and your hair.

To think he kissed you while you looked like this... twice, in fact.

You did what you could to clean yourself up, removing the washed-out makeup and letting down your hair to run your fingers through the damp strands. Once there was nothing more you could do, you stepped back out.

The delicious smell of tea was fragrant in the air, carried on the warmth of the fire. Barbatos had set the tea out on the small round table of the sitting area and turned when you entered. He was still fully dressed in his wet formal wear, and you realized with amusement that he’d gotten engrossed in ensuring the tea and setup were perfect. The porcelain cups and saucers were delicate and beautiful, with floral designs and golden rims. The spoons were made of silver, polished to shine in the firelight.

“Welcome back,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled in return. “What’s all this?”

“What does it look like? I thought we could talk over a cup of tea, let our bones warm a little,” he replied as he made final touches to the setup, adjusting the napkins ever so slightly, turning the teapot just so.

“Barbatos...” you chided playfully. “Is this Barbatos the demon, or Barbatos the butler?”

He stared at you for a moment, stunned, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Haha, I suppose you’re right... old habits, as they say...” His laugh left his eyes and he stared at you. “I just want you to feel comfortable. I know we’ve known each other for some time; however, it is only our second date.”

“I am comfortable,” you said softly. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been since I first arrived here.” You stepped closer towards him until you were less than a foot apart. “I always feel safe with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled in return, warm and soft as his eyes drank you in. “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

You rested your hand against his chest. “Your coat is still wet,” you commented.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to undo the buttons. He removed it and you watched as the muscles of his shoulders rolled beneath his white shirt. He laid it carefully over the back of his chair. “It will dry by the fire soon enough.”

He began to undo his bowtie, but your hands came up to stop him.

“Please… allow me,” you said softly, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Barbatos swallowed slightly, but let his hands fall until they found their place on your hips, gentle and unassuming.

Slowly, carefully, you began to undo his tie for him as the air warmed between you with each shaky breath. Once it was loose, you gently pulled on the black material, watching as it slid along his collar before falling off.

Your eyes locked with his.

It was enough to make the last of his gentlemanly resolve vanish, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours needily. The tie fell from your grip to land in a careless pile on the floor as your arms went up around his neck to pull him closer. His hands tightened around you in return, fingers spread wide as they traveled across your back. The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath the soft fabrics of his clothes... it was better than every fantasy you’d ever had, dreams paling beneath the shadow of the very real demon in front of you.

Barbatos’s hands shifted from your body to your jaw, cupping your face in a delicate hold. Once again you opened your mouth to him, eager to revisit that sinful moment on the steps of the opera house, as your fingers tangled into his hair at the base of his neck. The strands were soft between your fingers, his tongue sweet with the hint of tea. He must have tasted it before you emerged from the bathroom earlier, no doubt to ensure its perfection.

But now it sat abandoned as your fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting at the one high on his neck. As soon as the smooth skin of his chest was exposed, you abandoned your task to run your palms up his chest and back to his neck as you clung tightly to him, your body slotting against his.

He chuckled against your lips as his hands returned to caressing your curves. “What about the tea?” he teased.

You nibbled on his lip, pulling back with your teeth until it released with a pop, earning a growl from the usually reserved demon. “No offense, but screw the tea.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened, his eyebrow raising in judgment. “No offense she says, and yet she wounds me in the same breath.”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips. “Forgive me… but perhaps we can enjoy it after?”

“After?” Barbatos echoed, his eyebrow raising ever higher as the corner of his mouth curled up. His hands slid from the curve of your back to the plush of your ass and squeezed. “After what exactly? What expectations have you brought with you tonight?”

Your breath hitched at his bold touch, yet your eyes narrowed at his obvious teasing. Two could play that game.

You widened your eyes innocently. “Expectations? None.” You looked at the tea setting. “Perhaps we should enjoy a cup now, before it gets cold…”

You began to disentangle from his hold and turn your body toward the seats, but Barbatos’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, blocking you. When you turned to look up at him, he was staring down at you with darkened eyes, his smile gone.

“You know… your dress is wet too...” he hummed as he pulled you back against him.

Checkmate.

Your arms returned around his neck. “Is it now?”

Barbatos’s hands once again moved along the curve of your back. “Perhaps we should slip you into something more comfortable?”

As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the line of your spine until he reached the top of the zipper. Slowly he pulled it down, the material relaxing around you, every soft bit of your skin freed from restraint. His fingers traced back up along your now naked spine as his lips gently brushed yours, the tip of his tongue teasing your mouth open. It pulled a wanton moan from your throat, a sound that would have made you falter in embarrassment in any other moment... except his touch was far too distracting to care anymore, his chest echoing your own in a low, satisfied hum. The delicacy of his long, slender fingers skated across your shoulder blades to catch beneath the straps of your dress and slid it off your shoulders. You removed your arms from the falling straps, and Barbatos’s hands helped the dress the rest of the way over your hips until it fell to a puddle around your feet.

He withheld his kisses for a moment to allow his eyes to drink you in from head to toe as his hands followed your silhouette.

“Did you match for me?” he mused as he stared at your matching bra and panties. “A bit hopeful tonight, were you?” he grinned as he nuzzled your jawline with his nose. “Expectations indeed.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you replied. “And yes, a little bit hopeful...”

His nose continued to follow the curve of your neck then your shoulder as he talked, his breath coating your skin. “Then I’ll consider this a fortunate turn of events. I typically don’t expect such intimacy on the second date, but for you I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

Barbatos’s teeth caught on the strap of your bra as his eyes stared over your shoulder to observe the tantalizing view of his hand caressing the curve of your lace-covered ass. It made your stomach flip, your head spin, and your heat grow between your legs, the slick already building thick within your thin panties. You were eager; you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right this instant, in any which way. But Barbatos was the opposite; he took his time and savored. It was driving you mad. You shifted your stance just slightly in impatience, the sound of your shoes clicking on the stone floor of his room.

It was enough to catch his attention, to release your bra strap from his pearly white teeth and look down at your heels. “Hm, perhaps we should remove those shoes of yours...” he smiled against your lips.

Before you could protest, he bent just enough to wrap his arms around your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, your body pressed against his. It shocked you how easily he lifted you, as if you weighed practically nothing, his lean muscular figure disguising his demonic strength.

Slowly he walked you back towards his bed as his mouth began to leave kisses in your cleavage, his tongue flicking out occasionally to lick and taste. It made your breaths come out in pants, made your body squirm slightly in his hold, and yet he held you steadily until he reached his destination.

You had thought he would have tossed you onto his bed, following with his body. Or at least that was what you had hoped for. However, Barbatos always managed to surprise you with the unexpected. Instead, he set you gently back down on your feet.

“Sit,” he ordered. His tone was soft and not at all overbearing or firm, yet you found yourself following the command instantly.

Then he kneeled before you and gently lifted your left foot. His hands carefully removed your shoe followed by a trail of gentle kisses up your ankle to your calf. Then he set down your left foot and repeated the action with your right, once again removing the shoe carefully and following it up with kisses.

However, this time, the kisses didn’t stop at your calf. His lips kept traveling. Past the knee, up the inside of the thigh... your legs parted willingly as your breaths began to quicken, your clit pulsing heavily for him in anticipation. As he got closer, he pushed your legs wider still, his palm firm against the inside of your knee, and pulled you closer to him until your ass was barely on the edge of his soft, plush mattress.

He paused once he was between your legs, and inhaled through his nose, his eyes closing as if he were savoring a rich, herbal tea.

“I love your scent,” he whispered.

His eyes opened and you gasped as his green irises glowed, his canines slightly sharper and longer. The human illusion faded away like a mirage and now you could see the small, bony wings in place of horns, could see the long, double-ended serpentine tail curling and twitching behind him, shining wet. He still wore his clothes from the evening, his shirt half unbuttoned.

Barbatos watched you with an unreadable gaze. “Are you afraid?” he asked.

You shook your head vigorously. “No,” you breathed. “Just amazed at how beautiful you are.”

Barbatos chuckled, low and deep, ending on a soft hum. “She says with her legs spread wide for me...” His finger trailed the shape of you through your panties and your body twitched as you bit your lip. “Trust me when I say you are the beautiful one.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed your core, right on that tight bundle of nerves through the delicate fabric. You gasped against it, a moan bursting from your chest as you leaned back further, bracing your weight on your hands. Barbatos’s eyes flashed up at you, brows low and pupils blown wide with lust. He kissed you again, firmer this time. Again, you whined for him, your thighs tensing as pleasure tickled your nerves from the epicenter of his touch.

On his third return, his tongue flicked out to lick you through the fabric, followed by the press of his lips as his mouth closed over your clit.

You were panting heavily now, your heart pounding against your ribs in desperation. Again, he licked and kissed. And again. Slowly, steadily, with more pressure than before. His fingers began to stroke your entrance through the fabric, his long fingers drawing up and down.

As his mouth worked you higher and higher through your panties, you felt the warm wetness of his tail wrap itself around your leg and slowly slither up in a spiraling, winding trail. It was foreign, stimulating, and entirely erotic. As the tips of his tail reached the height of your inner thigh, they slipped beneath your panties, gliding against your lips and teasing your entrance, causing it to spasm. Then the tail hooked around the sopping wet fabric and pulled it aside, allowing Barbatos unimpeded access to your cunt as his hands remained firm against the inside of your knees, keeping you spread so wide that the hamstrings of your thighs burned.

“Beautiful...” he murmured as he stared at your pussy with heavy lidded eyes.

Then his mouth was on you, tongue dipping, lips pressing, sucking. You cried out, your head falling back as your back arched. The arousal tightened, sharpened, until you were sure you would cut yourself on it, bleed out all the desire in a gush. Your breaths grew heavier, faster. Your hips began to rock, your legs tremble.

But just as you were about to reach your zenith, Barbatos pulled away.

“W-what??” you protested. “Hey!”

Barbatos chuckled as he wiped his shining wet lips with his thumb. “My apologies. I am not usually one to leave a duty unfinished. However...” his gaze on you grew dark as he stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You were still salty he’d stopped, stealing your orgasm from you. “What promise?”

With his shirt unbuttoned and removed, he began to undo the buckle of his pants. He pulled the belt from the loops around his waist, then continued to unbutton the top of his slacks. His pants loosened, sagging to catch on his hips and the hard cock that tented his pants.

You swallowed as you stared at him, your eyes following the curves of his iliac crests, the muscles of his abdomen in soft relief against the firelight. The soft tuft of dark hair below his navel gave way to the base of his cock, still barely hidden beneath his slacks.

A realization hit you. Barbatos didn’t wear underwear. No boxers, no briefs, nothing. Nothing but the thin black fabric of his slacks between his cock and the world.

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto the fabric to tug it down and free him as he watched you with amusement in his eyes. His cock sprang free, perfect and beautiful. Your hand wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of it, the smoothness of the skin, the veins that trekked along its sides...

Barbatos’s finger tucked beneath your chin and forced your eyes to look up at him.

“I promised myself,” he continued, “that the first time I make you cum, it’ll be on my cock.”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed. His smirk turned into a devilish grin as he dipped his head down and captured your mouth with his, the scent of you still on his lips. As his tongue forced its way past your lips, his body invaded you, bearing down on you, forcing you to back further into the bed that smelled entirely of him.

He kissed you hungrily as his hand quickly undid the clasp of your bra before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down off your legs, the clinging wet strings of arousal stretching and snapping as the material left your throbbing cunt. Then he was over you again, surrounding you, caging you with his body as his thighs pushed your legs open for him, the head of his cock nestled against your entrance.

“Please...” you begged, your body taut with need.

He stared at you, the affection heavy in his gaze and written in the flush of his cheeks like paint on paper.

“You will tell me if it’s too much, yes?” he said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

You hooked your legs around the back of his thighs and pressed, and he obliged, the leaking head of his cock pushing into your wet heat as his lips parted in a silent breath. You inhaled, your ribcage expanding and your back arching as his cock dragged across every awakened nerve within you, causing your walls to clench tightly around his girth. He was long, and he filled every inch of you and then some, pushing you past your limits as you gasped in a short cry.

Barbatos froze for a moment, concern in his veridian eyes. But your body quieted, your expression one of bliss rather than pain, and he breathed as he pulled out and entered you again slowly, feeling the way your body greeted him, took him, made a home for him. Every inch of you was trembling; the air leaving your lungs on shaky breaths, your thighs practically vibrating, your walls fluttering.

Barbatos’s hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his forehead to yours as you looked at him through half-open, lust-blown eyes.

“My pretty girl...” he whispered tenderly. “My pretty little human. So fragile, so beautiful. Look at you, laid out before me, shaking like a leaf.” He pulled out slowly and pushed in again, the muscles of his biceps shaking with restraint. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment...”

You smiled and gave a breathy laugh that ended in a hitch as he bottomed out in you. “At least as long as I have, I hope...”

Barbatos smiled against your lips. “Longer,” he promised, followed by a stolen kiss.

But words could only last for as long as you both had focus, and it quickly waned in favor of the pleasure that washed over you with each thrust, your body and mind immersed in the feel of him. With your body fully acclimated and pliable beneath his touch, his thrusts quickened as speech gave way to sounds of pleasure; of grunts and groans, gasps and pants.

Barbatos’s knowledge of the human body was not to be underestimated. With each dip of his hips, his cock rubbed against your most sensitive parts, each thrust ending in a grind of his groin to roll your swollen, sensitive clit against him. His hand caressed your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, before sliding down to grip your thigh against him as his mouth devoured yours.

Your body shifted, your breaths quickened, catching in your chest as the arousal swelled, nerves on fire. “Please...” you begged as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, I’m so close...”

He sat up, adjusting his angle to allow his cock to press harder against the top of your walls where you were most sensitive. The change position allowed him the full freedom of his hands, and he took full advantage. He held your right leg over his shoulder while his other hand drew fast, steady circles over your swollen clit with his thumb. He quickened his thrusts for you, spurred by your pleas, your confessions of pleasure. He watched in rapture as your eyes glazed over then widened, as your back arched when your orgasm piqued, igniting across your nerves. Over and over, it crashed over you, drowning you, stealing your voice in favor of gasps of air and primal moans.

Barbatos relished the sight, the way you broke before him, because of him. He relished in the feel of you tight around his cock, your walls pulsing, sucking him in. He released your leg from his grip and leaned over you again, his lips stealing yours as he pistoned even faster, now that he was able to finally chase his own release. He buried himself in you with each thrust, the ‘pap’ ‘pap’ of skin hitting skin loud in his ears. You cried out against him with each thrust, your teeth digging into his shoulder. If it weren’t for your legs tightening in an iron grip around him, he would have stopped, checked you for injuries. But instead, you clung to him, your body beyond words, beyond control.

Were you going to cum again? So soon?

The thought alone was enough to send Barbatos over the edge, hot cum spilling from his cock with a groan as he rode out the burning wave of pleasure that washed over him. With each release of his load into you, a new wave followed, and he chased it relentlessly, savoring every second of you pinned beneath him, wrapped around him...

Your body spasmed against him and you half moaned, half cried into his shoulder, your arms tight around his neck as your hips rolled and bucked, your breaths forced out on a parched, hot tongue and burning lungs. It only added to his own pleasure; not just the fresh spasming of your cunt around him, milking the last of what he had to offer, but the way you moaned for him, clung to him, needed him, as if you’d shatter if every inch of you weren’t touching.

With the majority of his orgasm already falling to the wayside, he kept his pace until he was sure you had finished, when your death grip on his neck finally loosened and your head fell back damp with sweat into his rich bedsheets, panting heavily for air.

Barbatos was less winded of course, thanks to his superior strength and stamina. It allowed him the opportunity to lift himself on his arms and stare down at you, memorizing every detail.

As your breaths finally eased, your eyes fluttered open. As soon as you saw him staring down at you, you covered your face with a giggle. Barbatos smiled and grabbed your hand in his, pulling it off your face and pinning it above your head. He kissed you with smiling lips, and you returned it in kind, your free hand wrapping lazily around his neck, your fingers gently threading through his sweaty strands. He kissed you again, and again, moving from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw. You giggled against it, and he smiled against your skin as he buried his face into your neck and allowed himself to rest some of his weight onto you.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked. His voice was low and reverberated into your chest.

Your fingers lightly grazed back and forth along the back of his neck absently.

“Yeah,” you replied drowsily. “You?”

“Hm, yes.” he confirmed. “Very much so.”

After a long quiet moment, you spoke again, your eyes staring at the ceiling. “That was... wow.”

Barbatos pulled back sightly to look at you. “Do you regret it? Was it too soon?”

You looked at him in confusion and gave an amused laugh. “Definitely not. I’ve been wanting for that forever.” A pause. “How about you? Do you regret it?”

Barbatos smiled as he allowed the tips of his fingers to trace your body. He followed your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your breast. His smile widened as your nipple perked and hardened under his touch.

“No,” he replied. “It happened sooner than I expected, but trust me when I say I have zero regrets. Had I known it would be like this, I would have claimed you sooner.”

You stared at him with poorly masked surprise. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle as his fingers continued their trek down along your hip to your thigh.

“I meant what I said earlier this evening...” he said as he watched his hand travel. “I do not look into your future. I did not know this would happen.” His hand trailed back up your side to visit the gentle slopes of your arm, following the lines to your sensitive palm. His fingers twined with yours and he looked back at your eyes. “And I’m glad. Seeing this future would have dulled the experience. It was meant to happen like this; unexpected and perfect.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you pulled him against you as you kissed him tenderly. When your lips parted again, amusement colored your expression.

“I think I’m ready for that tea now.”

Barbatos grinned down at you. “Absolutely not. I will make us fresh tea.” He glanced down pointedly at where your bodies were still joined, although his white, sticky cum had long since begun to leak out onto the bedding. “But first, perhaps a bath.”

You laughed as you followed his gaze. “Yes, a bath would be nice.”

You had expected him to pull out of you, to help you stand and walk with you. You were prepared for the walk of shame, the humorous waddle of cupping your hand between your legs to catch any remaining drops of Barbatos’s gift that would inevitably leak out on your journey to the bathroom. But instead, his tail slithered its way between your back and the mattress and wrapped around your waist, as his hands gripped the globes of your butt.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

“What’re you—AH!”

He hoisted you up in his arms, your body securely pressed against his. You giggled into his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom, his tail loosening around your waist in order to open the door while he continued to support your weight easily with his palms.

He set you down near the toilet. “If my memory of human anatomy is still correct, you should pee.”

You sat on the toilet to do as he asked, and watched as he began to fill the very large bathtub with hot water. The sight of him nude in front of you was both arousing and odd. He always kept himself covered from head to toe, so much so that even the slightest hint of arm or shoulder had been enough to make your blood run hot and your thighs squeeze together on more than one occasion. But now, you could see every inch of him, and you realized what an absolute insult it was to have his figure covered up at all times.

He looked up to catch you staring at him and you averted your eyes quickly. He smirked.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

You nodded as you cleaned yourself.

He held out his hand to you. “Then come join me.”

You did, stepping into the bathwater with his body behind you. You sighed as you leaned back against him, the water coming up to barely cover your breasts. His hands caressed your arms, your legs; any part of you he could easily touch.

It was a soft silence, a gentle togetherness where words had no place. There was no need for them. They were too loud, too plain... there was no way to capture what either of you felt, and there was no need to define or label, to announce or question. Before the two of you were not, and now you were. The transition into togetherness came with ease, forged through intimacy and surrender, through the carefully laid bricks of friendship and time.

Barbatos washed your hair for you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you tilted your head back to rinse. He washed your back too, and your arms, the soft washcloth trailing over every inch of skin. Your knees, your thighs... But then the washcloth was abandoned in favor of his fingers between your legs, parting your lips beneath the warm, sudsy water to find the pearl of nerves nestled protectively at the apex of your folds.

“Barbatos...” you moaned as you felt that familiar heat reignite. He planted a silent kiss to your temple as he began to move his first two fingers in small circles. Your legs spread as far as they could within the tub, and he took that as an invitation to increase his pace as his other hand cupped and massaged your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers with small pinches.

He worked you quickly and with ease. Within a minute, your head was tilted back against his shoulder as he watched his hand work you beneath the water, your body tensing and flexing each time he passed the pads of his fingers over you. Quicker and quicker he circled, increasing the pressure until that familiar sound of your heavy panting greeted his ears and your hips rocked, causing your back to press against his hard cock. He pressed kisses against your jaw line, your neck, and he watched your face as your eyes fluttered closed and your brows drew together, your mouth slightly parted.

You came with a groan, your back arching against him, and he maintained his pace, his digits circling vigorously as he whispered soft praises into your ear.

“Good girl. My beautiful girl...”

As the pleasure receded to a low hum across your skin, you slumped against him with a sigh and closed eyes. After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him. He smiled and kissed you.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Do I need a reason?” he replied. His hands caressed your shoulders as his lips grazed the curve of your ear. “Because I wanted to,” he whispered.

You turned as best you could in the tub and kissed him tenderly.

You wanted to reciprocate, to run your fingers through his dark green hair as you washed it, to cleanse his pale skin with soap on your palms and affection in your touch. You wanted to make him feel as good as you felt, to know the weight of him in your hand, your mouth...

But he spoke first.

“Come,” he ordered.

Before you could protest, Barbatos disentangled himself from you and stepped lithely out of the tub. He grabbed one towel and wrapped it around his lean frame. Then he grabbed a second towel for you and held it open in quiet invitation. Unable to say no, you stood and stepped out of the tub, the cool air of the bathroom kissing your skin for only a moment as turned your back to him. He wrapped the soft cloth around you, his arms wrapping around you as he did so. He pulled you close against him until his chin rested on your shoulder.

“There is a spare robe on the rack by the door,” he explained. “And you may borrow any of my clothes if you so wish. I will make us a fresh batch of tea.”

With a kiss planted against your wet hair, he stepped away. You watched as he abandoned his towel and grabbed his other robe, pulling his arms through the sleeves before crossing the fabric over his nudity and tying the sash. With a brief glance and a small smile, he stepped out and closed the door, as if to give you privacy you no longer needed.

You breathed a heavy breath slowly from your lungs, allowing the release to steady you as you processed the reality of all that had transpired thus far.

The mellow acceptance you’d felt earlier when Barbatos was with you gave way to a mixture of elation and shock that hummed through your body and mind, reverberating against your isolation within the bathroom. It felt as if your heart would explode, the beating muscle unable to keep up with the demands of the emotions that swirled inside of you like a vortex. You felt up-ended, chaotic, yet free.

This wasn’t at all how you thought this would happen. You had always pictured the process as slow, requiring a level of patience you weren’t entirely sure you possessed. You’d ease into it, learn how to navigate Barbatos’s complexity on a level that you had yet to explore or fully understand, like learning to sail for the first time in uncharted waters.

Instead, the tether of caution, of safety, had been snapped from its mooring, and now you felt you were spinning, drifting, carried out on a heavy tide with no knowledge of where it led or how to navigate it; a small boat in deep waters, large waves, and not a paddle to be found.

You wanted to trust in it. To trust in him. To trust the softness of his touch, the delicacy of his kisses, the honesty of his words.

You wanted to trust that you would be kept safe, protected; that your small little boat would not be capsized by the weight of all that he was – an ancient, timeless, a creature beyond human understanding. You wanted to trust that he would not let you drown, would not let you sink into the bottomless black, dragged deep by the limits of your mortality and understanding.

To trust your heart to him, your soul... it was like trusting the ocean to be kind to you, as if the ocean were anything but indifferent.

But Barbatos was not indifferent. In fact, he was far from it. But he wasn’t human, either. His view of life, death, the world... it went far beyond your own comprehension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you, in all of your insignificance, had managed to even catch his attention to begin with, let alone hold his eye.

You began to gather yourself, your movements slow and sluggish as you dried your body. Your thighs and your cunt ached, but it was pleasurable, a soft reminder of the intimacy you’d shared. It helped root you to the present, to tear your eyes away from that distant, unknown horizon and focus on the sand beneath your feet.

You stepped out of the bathroom to the smell of a sweet, floral fragrance. You quickly noticed the new bedding on his bed, and wondered if you’d lost track of time, or if he’d used magic to quickly change them. Either way, it looked ready to sleep in.

Barbatos was by the small table with a fresh pot of tea, the arrangement prepared. He was still in his robe, the silky fabric loosely open towards the top providing a pleasant view of his chest. He looked up from when you entered and smiled as his eyes raked over your figure.

“Perhaps I should let you keep that,” he said.

You looked down at the robe. “If I did, then it’d have to come back with me to the House of Lamentation,” you teased as you walked towards him.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes. “Then, perhaps not. Such beauty should be for my eyes only.”

He took you into his arms as soon as you were within reach and kissed you. Then he motioned to the table and chairs.

“Tea?” he offered.

You laughed. “Yes.”

You both sat, the air between you warm and comfortable, the conversation between you flowing easily. It eased your nerves and quieted your fears. In private moments like this, it didn’t matter that you were a human, and he was a demon. What mattered was the happiness, the laughs, the comfort it brought you to be in his presence. The foundation of the two of you remained, and yet there was a newness that coated it, a novelty and open curiosity. Your feet played with his under the table; his tail teased your leg. And the looks shared were a newly opened secret, an invitation to explore each other’s hearts, while sensitive hands itched to explore each other’s bodies.

Once the tea was gone, the conversation moved to the couch in front of the fire. You curled yourself up against Barbatos’s side as your eyes watched the flames dance.

“How come I’ve never heard the Divine Language before?” you asked, your brow furrowed. “I talk to you and all the other demons and angels just fine.”

Barbatos gave a small smile. “That’s because we are naturally fluent in every language. We speak to you in your language because we have to.”

Your head lifted from his shoulder. “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense...I just...huh. Never really thought about it.”

Your head went back to its resting place.

“I did mean it, earlier…” he said softly. “You were safe at the opera.”

You were silent for a long moment. “I believe you. But for me, as a mortal, even the slightest possibility of not being safe was terrifying.”

Barbatos’s arm tightened around you. “I assure you; I had multiple failsafes in place in the highly unlikely possibility that I was incorrect.”

You lifted your head again to look at him. “Like what?”

He glanced at you and returned his gaze to the fire. “In the worst-case scenario, I was prepared to teleport you instantly.”

“But that’s not the worst-case…” you said softly. “Worst-case would be if teleporting is too late.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, his expression locked in stillness. “If such a thing happened, then I would be forced to use my ability.”

“With Lord Diavolo’s permission…”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Yes, of course.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced by his response, which alarmed you. Barbatos was always absolute in not using his time travel ability without the Prince’s explicit permission or instruction. Even the hint of possibility that his commitment to that single, most important rule would potentially falter... because of you...

“However,” he continued, his gentle smile returning, “even average humans can withstand the power of the Divine Language for at least a few minutes.”

Relief filled you. “Really?”

“How do you think God and his angels talked to the prophets?” He grinned. “So, I will tell you again, you were safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at his reassurances, but it dissipated as you had another curious thought.

“If you were so worried about the risks and had so many plans in place, why didn’t you just... not invite me? Or maybe take me somewhere else?”

Barbatos gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Yes, I did consider that option first. However, we’d already been struggling to find time for each other recently. And I did not want the young master’s efforts to go to waste, even though he hadn’t considered the concerns regarding the Divine Language.” He tilted his head slightly as he watched the flames. “Besides, I thought the love story was somewhat... fitting.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In a strange way, it was. You snuggled tighter against him.

An idea popped into your head.

“Can you speak the Divine Language?” you asked.

“Of course, I can. I am a demon after all.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shining. “Say something to me.”

Barbatos stared down at you with wide eyes. “Like what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know... Whatever you want.”

Barbatos stared at you as he thought. Then he took a hesitant breath and spoke.

The sounds were a melody, a chorus of voice tuned to his deep tone. It washed over you gently, blanketing you until every inch of you felt warm and safe. It chased away your fears of death and loss, and instead, it made you want to trust him with your life. His finger gently traced the line of your jaw as he spoke, a gentle smile on his lips. It was short, lasting mere seconds, yet it somehow felt longer.

Silence fell between you as your mind gradually cleared.

“Did you understand it that time?” he asked curiously.

“I... I don’t know. Was I supposed to?”

“It was directed at you, so I had hoped you would.”

“It wasn’t so much words, but more of a... feeling?”

“What did it feel like?”

“Being safe... and warm... Is that how it works? Through feelings and pictures?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never been human.”

You made a face. “Eh, that’s okay. It’s overrated.”

He laughed deep and rich, and the sound of it made you laugh too, the joy contagious. Then his smile faded, and he tilted his head at you.

“So, what did you say?” you asked.

Barbatos was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself. Finally, he spoke quietly, his voice solemn. “I told you I will always protect you.”

Your stared at him with parted lips, hoping to find the words that could equal his own, but there were none. Instead, you kissed him gently, your hand cupping his jaw. He reciprocated, his hand covering yours as his arm tightened around you. It made the latent desire in you reawaken, and you deepened the kiss with your tongue. Barbatos welcomed you, his mouth opening with yours, his warm tongue swiping and tasting.

You hummed and crawled into his lap, your legs straddling him. The action forced your robe to part below the sash, exposing yourself to him. The sight brought a pleased hum into the back of his throat, and his kisses deepened, battling your tongue for supremacy. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips through the fabric to pull you closer against him.

His cock awakened within seconds, hard and hot, and you pressed your wet cunt against the length of it. You rolled your hips until your clit rubbed against him, and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound with his tongue swiping along yours as his hands forced your hips to roll on him again. Your hands began to untie the sash of his robe and he chuckled against your lips.

“Again?” he teased.

The sash gave way, and you pushed the edges of his robe aside to expose the length of his body beneath you. “Shut up,” you replied playfully as you savored the feel of his chest with your hands.

Barbatos’s cock twitched beneath you, and he began untying your robe in return. “You lose your manners when you’re horny,” he grinned. “My impatient little human.”

He pushed the robe off your shoulders, and it dropped behind you off the couch. He started at your silhouette in the firelight, his hands caressing your curves.

Your hand wrapped around the shaft of him and gave him a couple of languid strokes, teasing the flushed head with your thumb. Barbatos closed his eyes and hummed.

You tutted at him. “Yes, well this impatient little human is going to ride your very big demon cock,” you breathed lustfully.

He growled low, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed like emeralds caught in sunlight. “You should be careful what you say to a demon, my dear.” He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you lined yourself up with him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock head. “I have more control than most, but even I have my limits.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into soft flesh, as you lowered yourself onto him slowly, your gaze hazy and lovesick. Your eyes rolled back, your lids closing, as you reached the base of his cock, taking every inch, his tip pressing deep into you. It ached, your body still sore from earlier. It blended with the burning pleasure as he stretched you, creating a sweet harmony of love and pain, pleasure and danger. You rocked your hips slightly, then slid back up, only to come back down again with a slowness that even rivaled Barbatos’s patience.

“Then again…” he muttered as his eyes watched his cock disappear into you, “perhaps I made you wait too long.”

You moaned softly, your head nodding in hazy affirmation as you slid up and down his cock again. Barbatos’s hands began to move your hips, forcing you to rub your clit against him with each descent. The pressure of his hands forced you to quicken your pace.

“Humans…” he continued teasingly as he watched your breasts start to bounce deliciously. “You always want everything now, now, now.”

Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your head lolling back. Your lips curled into a grin. “Are you saying I’m spoiled?” you breathed.

He forced you down harder onto his cock and you moaned as your cunt tightened. Fresh arousal coated his shining shaft, dripping slowly down his balls.

“Not yet, my sweet girl. But you will be.”

Then Barbatos wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close against him as he snapped his hips up to meet yours, his cock slamming into you. You yelped and clung to him, your face buried into his neck. He did it again. And again. Each time, he pushed your hips down to meet his as he thrusted. Each time you cried out in high pitched whines as your breaths were knocked from your lungs. And each time, his cock grew harder and harder as he felt his own pleasure rapidly rising. Your body caught his fast rhythm, your thighs and your hips working yourself frantically on his cock as you rode him. Your breasts were pressed against him, his teeth digging into your collarbone as you panted, your whines rising in pitch with each hit of your sensitive walls. Your hands gripped the couch on either side of his head, your brows drawn together as you chased the release you so desperately craved.

Barbatos looked up at you, watched the curve of your neck, your jaw. Watched every little way your muscles and tendons twitched and spasmed as the tension built within you. His own pleasure was building swiftly, and he was determined to have you cum with him while he spilled himself inside your sensitive walls. His thick tail wrapped around your waist, the tips of it dipping between your legs. The tips were dexterous, wet and warm, and they tickled your clit, pressing against it, pinching, swiping. With your eyes squeezed shut it nearly felt like being eaten out while being fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried.

He timed it perfectly, your orgasm cascading over you just as his crested, his load filling you as you rode him. He couldn’t suppress the grunts and groans that overtook him, couldn’t fight the way his strong hands forced you down onto him over and over again with brutal intensity as his tail tightened around you. You cried his name, wrapped in moans of pleasure as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks that dripped onto his shoulder.

He felt them, cold, wet drops landing on his hot skin. He took your face in his hands and kissed you passionately as his tail kept you in place, helping your body to rut against him through the final stretch of your shared orgasm, his cock twitching the last drops into your cunt.

Finally, his tail relaxed around your waist, and you collapsed against him with your arms around his neck and your face buried into his shoulder. Your entire body heaved as your lungs gasped for air. The elation pumping through your veins faded away to reveal the pain waiting beneath it in the form of burning thighs, fiery lungs, and a cunt that felt bruised and battered.

Barbatos’s hands gently caressed your back as he waited for you to recover. Once your breaths steadied and your heart no longer pounded loud enough for Barbatos to hear it, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

There was a pause that worried him, and then you nodded your head against his shoulder.

But you didn’t speak yet, and so he continued. “Was I too rough?”

Your response was quicker this time, your head shaking in denial.

He gave a soft, worried chuckle. “Can you talk?”

You giggled softly and forced yourself to sit up just enough to look at him. Your face was shining with sweat, and your eyes looked tired. “I’m okay, I promise,” you finally said. Then you laid against him again, your body feeling like stretched out rubber.

He tightened his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. “Do you feel satisfied yet?” he asked.

You laughed against him, even though the action made your ribs ache. The richness of it warmed him, pushing his lingering worries back to the distant horizon of his mind.

“Yes, very much so,” you replied. “But I probably won’t be able to do that again tonight.”

Barbatos sat up slightly from his slouched position, and the action made you wince, his soft cock still nestled inside you.

He paused for a moment before making you sit up enough to look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he commented, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sore, there’s a difference,” you replied with a grin. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m fine. I’m just... gonna move real slow for a while.”

“You will not move at all until you’re well again,” he replied firmly.

You put your forehead to his, a playful grin on your lips. “Hmm, does that mean I get to stay in your bed while you dote on me?”

Barbatos smirked and he kissed you with a peck. “Perhaps...”

“Then yes,” you replied. “I’m sore. So sore. Suffering, even. I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a week.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to recover so quickly if you’re in my bed?” he replied mischievously as his hands lightly squeezed your ass.

“Barbatos,” you scolded mockingly, “are you telling me that you would take advantage of me in my weakened state? That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Barbatos chuckled. “I’m a demon, not an angel,” he replied. “I told you earlier even I have my limits.” He kissed you softly. “But... I promise to be gentle.”

You kissed him softly in return. Then he wrapped his arms and tail around you, and this time you were prepared as he lifted you up again and carried you once more to the bathroom.

He was dutiful in his care, his touches gentle and patient. And when you were both clean again, he picked you up in his arms again and carried you to his bed, a gesture you were quickly growing accustomed to. He set you gently into the plush bedding and followed after you, pulling his thick, clean covers over the both of you. As soon as your head hit his pillow, sleep claimed you, your eyes drifting shut as you drank in the warmth of his skin against yours. They would not open again until the morning.

And as you slept, Barbatos stared at you in the dying firelight of the late night. His fingers absently danced along your arm, your hair, your back. And as he touched you gently, the time passed, seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours. The embers turned to ash, the room pitched into blackness, and Barbatos still could not sleep, as he battled within himself. Finally, in defeat, he allowed himself one confession, to be spoken barely at a whisper in a language your soul would feel but your brain would not understand. The lilting, singing words spoken on a divine, immortal tongue drifted past his lips, unable to be recalled or undone.

“I love you.”

#obey me shall we date #om barbatos #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x you #obey me barbatos x reader #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #barbatos x you

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heesdreamer · 1 year

Note

omg can u do a story thats like summer fling comes to ur school and interrupts what u had going on with ur current situationship something like that i saw a smau like this and a long fic with ur writing will really just be *chefs kiss*

GIVE UP ON ME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ you’re moved back to your hometown and finally moving on from your toxic 4 year long relationship with your highschool sweetheart heeseung when you get the email that the 5 year reunion is approaching

WC ➩ 8k

WARNINGS ➩ mentions of sex and death, extremely toxic relationship between yn and hee, not cheating but sorta shady, just a ton of angst

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ written at 5 am not proofread yadada same stuff as always! slightly strayed from what the request suggest but i like it so hope you do too

It wasn’t like you had necessarily planned to stay in your hometown post your eventual graduation.

In fact, like almost everybody else your age that you’d spoken to about it, you couldn’t wait to be old enough to get out of where you’d grown up. To leave behind the familiar neighborhoods and the memories wrapped around every tree and building, you’d be in a new place as a new adult who could conquer the world.

You did eventually leave, following the crowd of students a few states over to the nearest large city and it wasn’t that you particularly didn’t like it, it wasn’t all too bad.

But it only took two years of constant bustling city life, your office job that stretched you past your limit and didn’t pay you nearly enough, and the overly expensive fees and bills for your apartment that was basically a walk in closest, before you were calling it quits and moving back to what was familiar.

Your parents had been delighted that you’d returned, living with them for about a year before you turned 24 and your ego couldn’t handle it. You longed for that feeling of freedom and maturity you’d found by having your own apartment and soon enough you were finding a place not too far from where you’d grown up.

As it turns out, you weren’t the only person who had either stayed or moved back home either. Knowing at least two dozen friends or classmates who were now adults and working throughout your city.

This comforted you for a number of reasons. It was nice to see their faces and have people you were familiar with but you also couldn’t help feeling disappointed in your self when you made the decision to come home, slightly embarrassed you couldn’t handle the demanding life of the big city like you’d wanted to. So seeing others in a similar boat helped you understand you weren’t apart of the minority here.

Currently you were sat with one of these old classmates inside a half flower shop half cafe, watching him race around as he tried to fulfill online orders.

“Technology is going to be the downfall of small business.” Sunghoon was complaining for about the sixth time since you’d gotten there, shaking his head and groaning when his long blond hair fell in his face again.

“Soon you’re going to need a hairnet if you keep that up.” You were commenting from your table, back leaned against the wall as you played with your empty coffee cup.

Sunghoon and you hadn’t been friends in high school, almost the opposite actually. You frequently had relationship drama with one of his best friends and he was a jock on the football team who was far too concerned with girls he could actually hook up with to ever acknowledge you as a human being.

It was a pleasant, although confusing, surprise when you’d stumbled upon a new adorable little shop while going to the grocery store and walked in to see Park Sunghoon himself, in a little pink apron and he greeted customers enthusiastically.

His face had dropped when he’d saw you, faltering slightly like he was embarrassed before you smiled and casually asked him what the best drink on the menu is.

Thus a friendship finally bloomed between the two of you and you spent almost every break sat in this exact place, even coming on your off days to help him maintain orders and the plants as he started to gain more and more traction.

“I could get a haircut if Jay could make some time for me.” He was scoffing and shaking his long hair again.

Almost on cue, the bell above the door was ringing and you glanced over to see Park Jay entering casually, looking over towards Sunghoon with a raised eyebrow when he just barely caught a whisper of the end of his sentence.

“Are you complaining about me being busy again?” Jay was sighing and approaching the counter after giving you a small wave in greeting. He didn’t need to tell Sunghoon his order, just passing him his card with the knowledge that he already knew.

Jay was here almost as frequently as you, maybe more so considering his salon was only two doors down in the small strip mall. He was also somebody you had known from high school although you didn’t really remember him much, your school being overly large and populated.

Sunghoon had told you once, the first day Jay had walked in at the same time as you and you commented on his familiarity, that they had run in the same circle back in school but Jay was absent from their parties or football activities a lot more often, hence why you most likely couldn’t exactly place his face to anything specific.

“Does he know me then?” You had asked him, muttering a small thanks when he passed you your ice coffee.

“Do you mean does he know that you used to hook up with our team captain after every practice?” Sunghoon was raising an eyebrow and taking the empty seat across from you. “Yeah Y/N, he knows.”

Sunghoon was referring to the exact reason you and him hadn’t been friends in high school.

Lee Heeseung was somebody you’d spent many years trying to rid yourself of, both thought wise and the terrible reputation you’d been given just by being seen in his vicinity more than a dozen times.

Heeseung had been the captain of the football team which, in true cliche high school form, had meant he basically ran the school in terms of power and popularity. He wasn’t exactly the worst person to have this position considering his personality, he was nice to almost everybody and hilarious without meaning to be, but he was still Lee Heeseung.

You’d known of him before anything ever happened between the two of you of course, growing up together considering neither one of you ever switched districts or moved to one of the rival schools.

Still you weren’t necessarily falling high on the popularity scale, sticking to your group of friends and never bothering to join any extracurriculars that took up your precious after school time.

So it was particularly confusing that he had noticed you, and noticed was a small word for it.

Your friends had forced you along to the first game of the season despite your complaints, not caring for sports especially ones that required you to sit in a cold metal bench while freezing your ass off. Still, you subjected to their pleads and demands and found yourself begrudgingly entering the football fields gated concession area.

Almost immediately you’d been stopped by a boy, taking a second of scanning him to realize who it was underneath all that gear and face paint. Lee Heeseung was removing his helmet and shaking his messy hair to give it back some volume, offering you a toothy smile as you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Cheerleader section is over there.” Had been the first words out of his mouth and judging by the gleam in his big eyes, he had figured that to be a pretty good pick up line.

He has faltered slightly in his confidence however when you glanced down at your sweatpants and large sweater, looking back to meet his eyes with an unimpressed stare as you leaned back slightly.

“Do I look like I’m here to cheerlead?” You mumbled, although you’d realized he was trying to sweet talk you, you still didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an awkward laugh or you thanking him.

Your friends had come back from getting their hot dogs and drinks then, not realizing who exactly you were speaking to before they were grabbing your arms and excitedly making their way over to pick a good seat in the bleachers, leaving you to spare Heeseung a look over your shoulder and shrug when you saw him standing dumbfounded.

You hadn’t thought much about it while waiting for the game to officially start, knowing it was probably a one off encounter. Heeseung had a known habit of flirting with everything and anyone that moved, all genders included, and you didn’t think it was something you needed to care about for more than 20 minutes.

He was quickly proving you wrong however once the starting whistle was ringing out and he was immediately finding you in the stands. Every time he made a successful pass or scoring a touchdown, he was looking towards you in the crowd and shooting you a smile or a thumbs up.

It took about an hour for your friends to realize who he was looking at and you spent the rest of the game listening to their squeaks of excitement as they shook your shoulders, paired with the glared of jealously others were giving you once they also caught on to who it was that had caught their football captains attention.

Despite your best attempts to keep rejecting him, Heeseung’s efforts to woo you got more and more intense and eventually you were playing into them in return.

This lead you into four years of near disaster, entering a rocky relationship, if you could ever call it that, that was mainly you breaking up every few days followed by makeup sex that you never told anybody about. It wasn’t necessarily a secret considering everybody knew about your situationship but neither one of you would ever confirm it, brushing off questions or assumptions.

You never dated officially but everybody knew you were together, although this never stopped girls and guys from trying to get with Heeseung. As far as you knew he never took the bait, remaining faithful to you and your arrangement although he had no reason to ever honor this silent code of monogamy.

You imagine the football team had gotten the most inside scoop out of the rest of the school, often seeing you and Heeseung arguing in the parking lot after practice or you walking away with tear filled eyes just to return a few days later kissing him and glued to his side with a bright smile.

Things were messy but you were happy to be around him during the good times, both of you at fault when things got rocky. He didn’t treat you bad necessarily, you just weren’t good for each other but too obsessed to ever let go or move on. That didn’t mean there wasn’t times where you’d sit in bed and wish it was over, hovering over the send button on the break up message you’d formulated just to delete it for the 100th time.

Then Heeseung was offered a sports scholarship to a university in America and things were over just like that.

It was a bit more complicated considering the nights you spent crying together, curled up on his twin mattress or the arguments you had that left him storming out and slamming doors. But regardless, it was the official end to your four years of trying to make it work.

“What are you thinking about so intensely?” Jay’s smooth voice was breaking you from your trip down memory lane as he took the seat next to you, watching you with a concerned frown. “Is it the reunion?”

“Am I the only one who thinks a five year reunion is a little bit overkill? Half of us are still the exact same.” Sunghoon was adding on from behind the counter and you sighed.

They were referring to the fact that earlier this week, school president Yang Jungwon had sent a mass email to all ex students announcing he was throwing a five year reunion party at your old school, right here in your hometown.

“Yeah Hoon, like anyone would’ve guessed you’d become Mr. Flower Boy.” Jay was shaking his head and turning back to look at you with that same expression. “I really doubt he’s going to be there. He’s a super busy guy these days.”

“Why would she care if he’s going or not?” Sunghoon was chiming in again before you could and you sighed in irritation.

“She can speak you know.” You gave him a warning glance and he mimicked zipping up his lips, smiling when you laughed at the way he threw away the key after. “But I don’t care, he’s right. It’s been five years since I’ve seen him and plus I’ve moved on now.”

“So it’s safe to say you’ll be taking your loser as your plus one? Sorry Jay.” Sunghoon was kissing his teeth as he finished the last part and you rolled your eyes.

He liked to tease Jay about having a secret crush on you all these years although the other boy strictly denied it every time it was brought up, getting the same nasty scowl on his face that he had right now.

“Jiung isn’t a loser.” You attempted to defend your coworker who you had been going on casual dates with for a few months now but your voice was weak and you winced slightly. “At least he’s nice.”

“You might as well call him a loser. No guy likes to be called nice.” Sunghoon remarked.

He was joining you at the third seat of the table then and you sighed softly knowing he was right, guilt rising up in your chest considering you were having second thoughts about taking him as your date to the reunion. You glanced at Jay who was already watching you with a soft expression.

“Well I think nice is good.”

——

It was only about two weeks later that the reunion was approaching and you felt sick to your stomach as you sat in your car, your schools logo shining a bright light into the dark parking lot and causing you to groan as you rested your forehead against your steering wheel.

Your phone was lighting up with a text message, letting you know that Sunghoon and Jay were waiting for you near the entrance so you could walk in together.

You took a deep breath before giving yourself a small pep talk, finally getting out of the car and adjusting your dress before meeting them underneath the archway. It was strange to see them in such a familiar place but looking so different and meaning a lot more to you now. They seemed to be feeling the same thing as they watched you with nostalgic looks.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N L/N.” Sunghoon was chiming and meeting you half way, throwing an arm over your shoulders and leading you towards the entrance doors. Jay followed quietly behind, watching the two of you with a half smile. “So whats your first period?”

“Wrestling if you don’t take your arm off me.” You groaned and pushed him away from you, not needing rumors to start before you’d even entered the building. Jiung would be arriving after his shift ended and you didn’t need to be seen with multiple men by your old judge classmates.

As much as you didn’t want to attend you couldn’t deny how beautiful the gym looked. Jungwon had done an amazing job of decorating it and making the space feel less like early PE and more like a grand ball, an upgraded version of the homecomings he had thrown back then.

You made a mental note to find him and compliment his interior design skills before following your friends over to the drinks and snacks.

Your skin was still buzzing with anxiety at the thought of seeing people you once knew, one in particular, but you reminded yourself he most likely wouldn’t come. If he did it would be okay regardless, you’d moved on and it had been almost half a decade since you’d seen his handsome face.

Which is why it was almost too intense of a shock wave that hit you when you spun around with your drink in hand and were immediately face to face with the same boy you’d been praying you didn’t run into tonight.

Heeseung was already watching you from a few feet away, having recognized the back of your head despite being confused considering the two boys you were hanging out with, his old friends who he never once thought you’d encountered. But when you turned to the side to laugh at something Sunghoon said as he poured your drink, he was certain it was you and his feet instinctively started to move in your direction.

You were both frozen as you looked at each other with wide eyes, not saying anything as you took in the others appearance and presence.

Heeseung looked the same but different somehow. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, still overwhelmingly round and beautiful but calmer now. He was lacking his boyish spark that always made him seem like he was one burst of energy from absolutely exploding.

Physically he was larger although he’d always carried lean muscle from playing multiple sports. While then he had relied on speed and being agile, now he seemed stronger and more sturdy judging by the way his button up stretched slightly over his chest. You felt uncomfortable as he looked at you, knowing he was probably making similar judgements about you and you nudged Sunghoon with your elbow to get his attention.

“Whats wrong sweet?” He was spinning around to address you kindly but faltering when he followed your frozen gaze and saw his old friend standing a few feet away. “Oh dude, what’s up Heeseung?”

Sunghoon’s voice was excited as he addressed him but you watched the way the older boys jaw clenched at the use of the nickname towards you, shifting on his feet and not even sparing his high school friend a glance as he gave you a knowing look. You recognized the signs of jealously and annoyance on his face and you sighed softly as you realized he hadn’t changed as much as you thought.

He finally turned to address Sunghoon as they exchanged bro like high-fives and a side hug before he was leaning back again to glance between the two of you.

“So you two…?” He trailed off but you knew what he was implying as he pointed a finger back and fourth a few times.

You tried not to think about how different his voice sounded or the way his half smirk he was offering the two of you didn’t match his gentle face, heart in your throat as the previous image of him youd held so dearly the last five years disappeared and molded into this new version of him in front of you.

“Oh no man, no way.” Sunghoon was laughing once he realized, not catching onto the fact the other boy was clearly irritated and you were growing more uncomfortable by the second. He glanced over at you and your other friend beside you and you immediately knew what he was going to say judging by the mischievous look in his eye. “She’s with Jay.”

All three of you froze in shock, although you had expected him to say it it still didn’t make the impact any less heavy. It fell completely silent as you waited for Sunghoon to break the joke and laugh, tell Heeseung he was only kidding so you could finally say your goodbyes and leave the awkward situation behind. He didn’t however, watching you to wait and see what you would say.

“What a surprise.” Heeseung’s cold voice was filtering in instead and you felt Jay stiffen from beside you. “So you finally grew a pair? Only took you a decade I guess.”

Now Sunghoon was freezing alongside the rest of you and his mouth parted softly, despite being the one who constantly teased your friend and brought it up, even he was thrown off by how mean the comment Heeseung had made was.

You felt sick to your stomach once you processed what he was saying, implying both that Sunghoon hadn’t been joking when he talked about the other boys crush on you and also the fact he had seemingly known about it since before you even got together freshman year. You were turning your head slightly to glance at Jay to see him still completely stiff, his face ghost white with bright red cheeks from his embarrassment.

“Jay?” You whispered and the sound of your voice seemed to break him from his trance, shooting you a panicked look before he was awkwardly placing his drink back down on the table and clumsily excusing himself.

He was gone before you could object and Sunghoon sighed before following him, patting you on the back and glaring at Heeseung as he went.

This left you alone with the boy and although he still looked as irritated as he did a few minutes ago, now there was confusion masking his features as well. You glared at him but didn’t say anything, just shaking your head before turning to try and follow your friends out of the auditorium.

However a hand on your arm was stopping you and you whipped around back towards the boy, yanking your arm away from him and trying to ignore the fact your skin lit up with a fire the second he had touched you. A flash of hurt passed by his face before it was hardening again and you scoffed.

“Don’t leave yet.” He was rushing out and for a second he sounded like he had last time you’d seen him, a hint of desperation in his voice. “We haven’t even talked.”

“Why would we need to talk?” You practically hissed at him although you weren’t sure why. His comment had been mean but he didn’t know any better, obviously not realizing the stupid joke and just retorting in the way a childish ex boyfriend would.

Heeseung faltered at your tone and he finally let some expression show, a confused and hesitant look on his face as he glanced down to your feet and then back up to hold your glare. He shrugged and took a step away from you, letting you know you were able to go and follow the other boys.

You sighed at his reaction and made no move to leave, watching him for a second and trying to think about a way to handle this that would create the least amount of drama.

“Come with me to find Jay and then we can go somewhere and talk.” You were eventually saying and he was thinking for a moment before nodding and following you out of the gym.

The two of you walked in silence down the hallways and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him every few seconds, your mind having a hard time understanding the visual of adult Heeseung walking down the same floors he had last time you’d seen him. You figured he was doing something similar judging by the way you kept awkwardly meeting each others eyes and hurriedly looking away.

“How’d that happen anyways?” He was asking you once you pushed through the doors back outside and you looked at him in confusion. “You and those guys being friends.”

You smiled at the mention of them and shrugged softly, pulling your jacket up on your shoulders tighter once the cold night air nipped at your skin. “I imagine we could’ve been friends in high school too if I wasn’t so busy.”

He was laughing softly and turning to walk sideways so he could look at you more clearly, your heart picking up in speed when you looked at him to see that familiar smirk and cocky glint in his eyes that arrived at the mention of your activities in high school.

“Remind me what it was that had you so occupied back then.” He was asking but he already knew, just wanting to hear you say it and see your reaction.

You considered humoring him for half a second before deciding against it, rolling your eyes and looking away from his intense stare before you did something stupid.

He was taking a step closer to you then and you stopped walking, watching with saddened eyes as he took a few more, his hand coming up to hold your arm again although a lot more gentle this time around. Your stomach turned at the feeling of him touching you and you could’ve cried if you thought about it for too long.

“I missed you.” He was whispering suddenly and you hated that you could hear the sincerity in his voice, breaking around his words slightly as he softly squeezed your arm. “I really fucking missed you.”

You were turning your head downwards softly to try to stop yourself from tearing up and being an embarrassing ex, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of something you could say to him that wouldn’t hurt either of your feelings.

You were swiftly interrupted by the sound of a car door closing a few parking spaces down and you took a step away from the boy just in case, his hand falling off your arm and dangling in mid air for a few seconds before he removed it. You glanced behind you towards the sound and your sick feeling got worse when you realized who it was that was approaching you.

“Y/N.” Jiung waved at you with a big smile and you tried to offer back a small one, wincing when he approached and wrapped an arm around your side. He was turning towards the other boy in greeting. “This must be one of your classmates.”

Heeseung had lost the gentle expression on his face again, eyes hard as they shot down to the hand sitting on your waist. He was looking back up at you with a raised eyebrow and you sighed softly when you noticed his jaw clenching again. Still he surprised you when he stuck a hand out towards your date, gripping the others firmly in a handshake before giving him a forced smile.

“Heeseung.” He offered his name and Jiung froze beside you.

“Oh…. this is Heeseung.” He glanced down at you and you bit the inside of your cheek awkwardly, nodding slowly as he pieced together who it was that was standing in front of him, finally putting a face to the name.

Heeseung on the other hand seemed pleased at the realization that you had talked about him, especially to this guy that was slowly loosening his hold around your body the longer he glared at him intensely. You felt a surge of annoyance that the boy still held a childish amount of possessiveness and jealously over you despite the fact you hadn’t had contact with him in years.

“This is Jiung my… friend.” You eventually introduced him, trying to lessen the awkward tension that was building to a suffocating amount.

Jiung faltered at the title you gave him but you weren’t lying necessarily, you’d been going on dates every since he asked you out at a company dinner but you hadn’t talked about it in detail or really moved towards anything serious.

This seemed to calm Heeseung down for a second before he was glancing at you, trying to decide what you considered a friend. He recalled you introducing him as that back in the day and he most definitely didn’t have you in a friendly way most of the time. You shot him a warning glare and he lost his intimidating expression immediately as he listened to you.

You ushered Jiung inside after that, telling Heeseung to go find Jay and apologize and ignoring him when he groaned and tried to follow on your heels like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” Jiung was whispering once you got inside and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not liking the harsh tone he suddenly had with you. “I’m your friend now?”

You stared at him in disbelief knowing he only cared because the person you had said it to. You’d called him your friend for months and vice versa but clearly his ego was wounded at the fact you’d said it to Heeseung. You were a bit sick of the amount of male ego floating around tonight and you were about ready to leave at this point.

“When have you ever been otherwise.” You spat back at him and he scoffed, uncharacteristically angry. He normally was quiet and pretty shy hence why Sunghoon had taken to calling him a loser, never to his face of course.

You figured the night wouldn’t be much fun but you didn’t expect to be sat at one of the tables in awkward silence with your coworker, your friends no where to be seen still. Your arms were crossed and you weren’t bothering to mask the annoyed look on your face as Jiung the as in a similar position, still throwing a hissy fit over the title you’d given him.

Jungwon had stopped by your table at one point, greeting you warmly despite being slightly awkward considering your date had completely ignored his arrival. You paid him no mind and enthusiastically told your old president what a good job he had done, citing that everybody seemed to be having a good time.

He smiled and thanked you despite clearly being able to tell you weren’t necessarily apart of that, noticing you sitting with a frown on your face earlier.

The rest of the night carried on like that and then it was finally ending, masses of feet finding their way outside the school again. You walked past the groups of people saying goodbye to each other, not bothering to join in on the charade considering you weren’t in the best mood and definitely at risk of being accidentally rude to an old peer.

Jiung was following you silently and when you reached his car and stared at him he took a moment before speaking.

“I’m sorry if I ruined the night.” He was stating and you gave him a tired glance. “I don’t know why I acted like that… just seeing him and knowing how much he meant to you…”

“Well he doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” You were cutting him off before he could finish, shaking your head and contemplating giving him a hug goodbye before deciding against it, offering a small wave instead as you turned to go and find where you had parked.

You took your time as you walked to the other side of the parking lot, watching Jiung’s car as it pulled off and feeling strangely sick again with overwhelming nostalgia.

It was that same feeling you had when you first moved back home and arrived in the local airport, the disappointing ride back home as it stormed like the sky could feel how saddened you felt. It didn’t go away for weeks, that heavy hole in your heart, especially as you adjusted to the places you would frequent with Heeseung, having to get used to not seeing him around every corner.

“So I don’t mean anything then?” His voice now was a stark reminder of that as he rounded his way through the cars closest to yours, clearly having listened in on your conversation a few minutes prior.

“Do you always spy on your old classmates conversations?” You were sighing and putting your keys back into your pocket, leaning against your car as you watched him.

He joined you, scanning your new vehicle first for a second before he was leaning onto it beside you and touching your shoulder to his. The car was slightly wet from the earlier drizzle but he didn’t complain as it sunk through his long sleeve shirt, sending him a cold chill that you could feel on your arm that was pressed against him.

“Is that what we are? Old classmates?” He was asking with a small laugh but it lacked any humor, his voice sounding slightly wounded like it had earlier.

“Let’s not do this.” You shook your head softly, the longing and desperation on his face making your heart beat almost painfully in your throat. “Please Heeseung.”

Lee Heeseung had always felt like a drug to you and he knew this more than anybody considering he felt the same way.

You remembered after you and him had first started to fool around with each other, you hadn’t thought too deeply about it. He was a known player and although he’d been around your life since you were young that didn’t make you exempt from his flirting and advances apparently like you had figured. He’d never paid you any attention before but you weren’t going to get your heartbroken by him.

Still, he was cute and you liked the way he smiled so naturally you didn’t decline once he continued to show interest in you. That’s all it was at first however, quick hookups in his car before practice or once or twice you went to his house on a free weekend to see him.

You never acknowledged each other in public, especially not at school, and you rarely talked outside of having sex and saying meaningless words. This was okay with you and you never expected anything else, almost preferring how easy and simple the arrangement was as of now.

Then one day after lunch, one of Heeseung’s more publicly known hookups was pouring her drink over your head. She’d barely gotten a few words out before she was being dragged away by teachers but you vaguely heard her screaming something about you being a slut as she cried and kicked. When you asked him about it the next weekend while getting dressed in his room, he casually told you he had broken stuff off with her because of you.

You’d stopped midway from putting your bra back on to look at him in bewilderment, him casually avoiding your glance despite the fact he was anxiously fidgeting with his fingers.

“Why the hell would you do that Hee?” You remember hissing at him and he raised his thin shoulders in a careless shrug.

“Maybe you’re just my favorite.” He was retorting with a small smirk, dodging out of the way when you chucked your shirt in his direction.

He had said it like it was a joke but that didn’t stop you from paying extra attention to his behavior from there on out. Heeseung was clearly obsessed with you and you would’ve been annoyed by his antics if you weren’t in the same boat, almost feeling sick every time you went more than a week without being able to see him.

You spent almost all of your free time together, even on the days where you had been “broken up”.

Your friends had been excited for you at first, being not only noticed by the most popular guy at school but also being the first girl he seemed to actually care about. Their excitement turned to worry the longer your toxic relationship went on and the more weekends you spent crying in bed after another nasty argument.

It was always stupid things you’d argue about, childish assumptions and major jealously issues on both sides. Heeseung didn’t like the way boys are parties looked at you and you hate the girls on the cheerleading team who called his name louder than they did the rest of the boys.

So you’d scream and you’d fight and you’d slam doors so hard the wood would crack but then less than a week later you’d be underneath him again, murmuring about how you can’t live without each other and you’d never love somebody as much as you loved him.

“What are we doing?” He was speaking again now regarding your warning for him to stop speaking the way he was. “We are just talking, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You know it’s never just talking with us.” You laughed a dry laugh and looked down at your feet, sadness ripping through you again at the reminder you weren’t stupid kids anymore.

You were older now and more mature, supposedly moved on, yet your heart still raced every time he smiled and your entire arm was on fire just from the feeling of his sleeve against your jacket. The pit in your stomach full of longing was screaming out at you to lean into him, to scratch that itch that never left and always begged you to pick up the phone and call him.

“I knew I missed you, I mean I think about you every day but….” He trailed off for a second and you looked over towards him, watching the side of his face as he took a deep breath. “I feel like this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe in 5 years.”

“We were terrible together.” You whispered back to him, trying to keep your sad tone lighthearted so he understood you were mostly joking.

You didn’t like that when he looked at you, you felt 18 again. His eyes were teary and you wanted to reach up and hold his cheek, wipe your thumb gently under his eye and whisper nice things to him until it cleared away.

You remembered the first time you’d ever seen Heeseung cry and you felt like your world had collapsed. He always was so strong and optimistic, calm in bad situations and cracking jokes when you were so frustrated you couldn’t find it in yourself to even laugh at him despite appreciating his ability to always make light of a situation.

So when he had shown up on your doorstep your junior year soaking wet from the rain and sobbing so hard he was leaning against your door for support, you felt like you had quite literally died.

You’d pulled him inside quickly and he wrapped you in a bone cracking hug, completely soaking your clothes although you didn’t mind or object in any way.

You hadn’t seen him for a few days considering you’d fought the previous weekend after a boy at a party had snaked his hand around your waist and squeezed slyly before Heeseung was ripping him off of you and nearly pummeling him into the ground, only stopping his attack when a few of his friends heard the yells and gasps and helped you pull him away from the boy.

After storming out of the party you scolded him for being so careless, only one year from graduation with a near perfect record that would help with scholarships.

“You think I give a fuck about any of that?” He had sneered at you under the streetlight and you remembered the way his voice echoed throughout the quiet street, his cheek red and swollen from the other guy getting a few good hits in.

“You should.” You had yelled back, hands coming up in confusion.

“All that matters to me is this.” He was approaching you swiftly but you didn’t flinch back, not even with the aggressiveness from earlier still floating through his eyes, knowing he’d never hurt you. “You are what matters to me, this is all I have.”

You’d told him he was crazy for saying things like that and tried to remind him how important football was and how he needed to get this scholarship, he needed these opportunities and you weren’t going to let him throw them away for you. This upset him and he’d called you a ride home before disappearing somewhere, now returning on your doorstep like a stray dog.

“What’s wrong?” You were gasping into his wet hair, a cold chill running through you considering just how soaked he was.

You shuffled the two of you over to the door so could close it, taking a peak outside briefly to see his car wasn’t in your driveway. He had either gotten a ride and stood outside for a while or he’d walked the two hours from his own house.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me what happened?” You tried to pull back from the hug to look at his face but he was squeezing you tighter, a panicked cry slipping through his lips at the feeling of you even attempting to pull away from him.

You didn’t try again and you didn’t talk either, both of you sinking to the floor as he cried and shook in your arms. You were petting his hair softly and ignoring the small puddle that was building up around you on your floor.

Eventually once he calmed down he was able to tell you what happened. Heeseung’s grandma, who he lived with full time and was raised by, had passed away a day or two prior and he’d only gotten the news once he finally came home and found her gone.

It’d been a long time since that night now but as you looked at him now it’s all you could think about. You think, in a way, that’s when you fully realized how much you truly loved him. This wasn’t a high school fling or you both being unhealthy obsessed with each other to the point you thought you were in love, it was serious for you and the thought made your stomach hurt.

Not because you had any doubt he loved you too, that was never a concern of yours. Quite the opposite considering he was a lot more open in his care for you than you were towards him, instinctively keeping him at an arms length distance sometimes.

It made you feel so terrible because you knew how it would end before it even did, you knew he would do great like he always did and he’d be given opportunities that didn’t have room for you in them. He would get too busy or too full of himself and you’d be left on the back burner, then he’d move on and forget all about you.

Hearing him now express how terribly he’d missed you, equating it to years worth of suffocation, made your stomach turn for other reasons.

“We weren’t terrible we were just kids.” He was retorting and you watched him as he shifted closer to you against the car. He’d always been taller than you but he seemed especially large now, his face and voice more mature.

“I saw the way you looked at Jiung and Jay earlier.” You reminded him and shook your head in denial. “It’s the same, you would’ve beat him bloody if you could have.”

“Moment of weakness. I’m not like that anymore.” He was quick to reply, almost like he knew you were going to bring it up. You glanced at him again and he was already watching you curiously. “But I’d do it if I had to yeah, I’d do anything for you.”

You were pulling off the car so you could fully face him, standing in front of him and looking at him with an incredulous expression. He was directly going against his first statement that he had changed for the better and you felt frustrated that he wasn’t understanding your point of view.

“How can you say that to me?” You whispered to him and he winced at the pain in your tone, reaching a hand out to hold your arm softly and feeling relieved when you didn’t immediately swat him away. “It’s been a long time Heeseung, you’re just confused because you’re back here.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He was shaking his head and scoffing, playing with your jacket sleeve and pinching it softly between his reddening fingers. “It hasn’t been a long time to me, I’m still here every day in my head. Every morning I’m still waking up beside you even when you’re not there.”

You knew it was probably stupid to lean forward towards him, everything in you telling you you’d regret it but you couldn’t help it as you listened to him talk.

You didn’t kiss him or anything, just simply leaned your body forward against his on the car so he could wrap his arms around your lower back and hold you tighter than he’d been holding your sleeve, but it was enough for him to know you were listening and attempting to hear him out.

He sucked in a breath now that you were pushed against him and for a second you thought he’d start to tear up again, a similar overwhelming feeling of relief and comfort washing through you at just the small act of being close to him again.

“So you miss me too?” He was whispering now that you were closer, looking down at you. You were close enough that if he leaned down your noses would touch but he didn’t, just watching you as you peered up at him.

“Of course I miss you.” You finally surrendered and told him part of the truth, not liking the way his eyes immediately lit up in happiness and the way it made your cheeks flush with warmth. “I miss you so bad it hurts sometimes.”

“Then come with me.” He was practically pleading and you felt his big hands squeezing against your back, pulling you against him tighter as he watched you with big earnest eyes. “Come with me and…. And I-I’ll do better, we can start over.”

You were crying now as he spoke so desperately and he immediately stopped talking once he realized, pulling you in fully for a hug and letting you cry into his chest like you had done for him all those years ago. You let your hands come up to rest flat on his back, feeling the way he took shuddering breaths and the fast beating of his heart.

There was no possible way you could give Heeseung what he wanted, you couldn’t leave with him and you knew there was no place for your love in the universe as much as you wished it was different.

You thought back to the last time you’d had a similar conversation to this, when you found out he’d been offered the scholarship of his dreams all the way in America.

“You can come with obviously, they’re giving me my own little dorm and everything.” He’d been so excited as he rambled and packed up his desk, not noticing the way you were silent and emotionless just behind him on his unmade bed.

When he had finally turned to look at you and see why you weren’t giving him any reactions, his face dropped seeing your teary eyes as you softly shook your head. You were still in your pajamas from the night before when everything was perfect and just the two of you laying in bed together watching Toy Story, now your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest.

“Angel what’s wrong?” He was rushing back over to the bed and climbing on it, stopping right in front of you and holding your face gently as you started to cry. “No no no, don’t cry my sweet girl. What happened, tell me what happened?”

You didn’t need to voice the fact that you wouldn’t be going with him, giving him a heavy glance that only took him a few seconds to understand. There wasn’t much of a conversation after that despite his deep desire to beg you to change your mind, to reconsider. Heeseung wasn’t going to make you do something you didn’t want, even though getting on the plane without you changed him forever.

You were pulling back from the hug gently so he didn’t think you were mad at him, looking up at him and holding his face softly as you tried to think of what to say or do.

“I’ll show you.” He whispered before you could, nodding his head softly as his voice cracked from his own sob. He was biting his lip softly to stop from crying too hard and you stopped thinking he looked so different, only able to see the boy you knew before as you looked at him now. “Give me time and I’ll show you, I promise. Don’t give up on me.”

You were taking a deep breath as you watched him speak, slowly making up your mind and just simply wrestling with the knowledge that what you were about to say would change things for you drastically, change them for a long time to come.

“I could never give up on you.”

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