#i didn't even reach the final chapter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saintobio · 2 months

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blank canvas. (2)

after offering a painful ultimatum to finally be enough for him, things ultimately get worse as he decides between keeping you or losing you as the only resolution.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. strong language, defloration (kinda), explicit smut, undertones of manipulation and gaslighting, toxic relationship, undertones of cheating

notes. 11.2k wc! thanks for the love on bc1, i didn't expect it to gain traction at all but tyty. last part will come soon, but that will be the final chapter to this mini-series.

part 1 | part 3

The ride back home was uncomfortable.

It wasn’t because you had promised to give yourself to him that night, but rather because his uncharacteristic silence was not what you had expected after delivering your ultimatum. You already proposed a wonderful solution to his needs, so why was he acting like you were the one being ridiculous? This was why you hated it whenever Sukuna chose silence over open communication, as it left you a hard time guessing about what was running through his mind. His expression didn’t offer any clues either, because he did pretty well at concealing his emotions behind a facade of indifference.

When you said you would do it with him, you meant it. But what did he think of it?

The sharp wind cut through your skin, the roar of his motorbike deafening your ears as your boyfriend accelerated his vehicle upon entering the tunnel. The vibrant yellow lights offered a cinematic view, tempting you to imagine yourself embracing the wind with open arms, though you knew better than to do so. Instead, you held onto him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning forward as he sped through the empty lane.

It was nearing midnight, and the sparse traffic allowed Sukuna to indulge in one of his habits: riding his bike in the late hours of the night through this particular tunnel and onto the highway. You knew this ritual helped him clear his mind since it offered a rush of danger that sharpened his focus on the road. His choice to take this route tonight also only confirmed to you that he was grappling with internal thoughts. The last time he rode this fast was when your parents made you choose between them and him, slapping it in his face that he was and would never be welcomed in your family.

To be honest, it frightened you. The speed at which he was riding was dangerous for both of you. Moreover, his bike was a YZF-R1, although street-legal, it was still a high-performance sport bike more suited for the track. It required agile and precise handling with its 1000cc engine. Yet, no other vehicle seemed more fitting for Sukuna than this.

Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t care to let you know. You two didn’t really speak throughout the ride while you clung to him like a backpack, praying in your head that you two wouldn’t get into an accident. Thankfully enough, he did safely take you home as you arrived at your shared apartment at exactly midnight.

“Please don’t ride like that again,” you muttered as he helped you out of his motorbike. “You could’ve gotten us killed.”

His fingers then reached to unclasp your helmet, pulling it up to reveal your face. “Well, we’re still alive.”

You looked at his face despite his best effort to avoid yours, standing centimeters apart while he switched off the engine. He didn’t return your gaze as though he was drowned by guilt. Should you speak at this? Or should you let him do it first?

“Baby.” After a minute or so, it was your boyfriend who sighed and finally gave in, pulling you close and resting his forehead against yours. He kept his eyes closed even when he was cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.”

Yes, you certainly shouldn’t. You didn’t have to do things unwillingly, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this on-going issue was putting a strain on your relationship and this would be your last shot at trying to salvage it. And you couldn’t have him looking for sensual gratification from anyone else other than you, so what other option did you have, really?

“I want to do it.”

“Not if you’re forcing yourself like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m forcing myself?”

“Your face tells me you are,” replied he, staring at your face in defeat. “So, let’s not—”

“What, and let this issue haunt us over and over?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head adamantly. “This has to be done. I need to experience it so I’ll finally understand.”

Understand what? His face almost spelled out those words, but he chose not to say anything of the sort and instead leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Alright. I’ll make it memorable.”

— —

Easier said than done, of course. You kept overthinking about whether your performance would be satisfactory to him given that you didn’t have enough experience to learn anything at all, aside from the make out sessions that you did once in a blue moon. Around thirty minutes of your time was spent hyperanalyzing your situation in the shower, while the other half of it was spent doing a little more than your nightly routines. Since Sukuna liked powdery scents, you placed a good effort in applying lavender-scented oil and perfume on every inch of your body. You also shaved any unwanted hair, especially on all the intimate places you knew he would be seeing. And by the time you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom blooming like a fresh flower, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel that hugged your womanly figure.

It didn’t feel right at all. It didn’t feel good knowing that you were preparing yourself like that, when these things should only happen on the first night after your wedding. It didn’t feel great that you were going to lose your virginity to a man who had not even proposed to you. This wasn’t even your honeymoon, but you had to pretend like it was.

Did Sukuna feel the same?

He wasn’t lying in bed when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead, he had just returned from outside—shirtless, wearing his favorite gray sweatpants, and holding a box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hand. It was clear he had made a quick visit to the convenience store nearby and got the essentials for your first night.

Immediately, he eyed your towel-wrapped body with restrained lust, clearing his throat as he walked towards the nightstand. “You look nice.”

Really? Did he really have to make this more awkward than it already was?

“Thank you,” was all you could softly reply. It was funny how he pretended to be busy placing the box and tube above the bedside table instead of lunging at you like a desperate man. But because you wanted to get this over with, you were the one who approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, and touching the firmness of his abs. For someone who had zero experience, you were definitely trying hard enough and that should please him. “You have to help me out here, my love. Guide me.”

When Sukuna turned around, your heart started racing. Of excitement? Maybe. Of anxiety? Perhaps. He made it better though when he finally caved in and looked straight into your eyes, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before lifting your chin with his hand. “You smell extra nice, too,” he added, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face.

You were feeling it now. The equal lust. The carnal desire. The feeling of his sweet kisses, which he made true as soon as he crashed his lips onto yours. His kisses usually ranged from tender to rough, but this time, it was an altogether different type of kiss. It was passionate and demonstrative, as if showing you exactly what he had been wanting to do to you the first time you got together. This must be the result of being celibate in over a year. He was clearly a man deprived of sexual pleasure, and you were responsible for it. You actually turned him into a monk.

Now, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. With his hand on your nape, he deepened the kiss to the point where you could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. You followed whatever he was doing like a good girl, like a very good girl, as he completely devoured your mouth with his. It didn’t take long for him to advance his kisses in other places too, being your jawline his next target, and then your neck as he feathered kisses around the soft flesh, leaving marks that would need a few days to be concealed.

Because his arms were tight around your waist, yours were locked around his neck. Where else should you be putting them? What does the girl usually do in this situation? You tried not to think much of it and listened to your own body while your boyfriend was sucking the skin around your collarbone. At first, your hand traced his toned chest, then it moved southwards to feel his abs, and further down to his…

“Y-You’re hard.” Your eyes widened as you felt his growing erection behind the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t your first time seeing his boner, but it was the first time you touched it with your own hand. It was the first time you had your palm stroking his length, swallowing hard as you realized just how hard and thick he was.

“It wants to be inside you,” he whispered through your mouth, kissing you back again, “so bad, baby.”

Gosh. Your knees felt weak and you two hadn’t even really started yet. How much more when he starts putting that thing of his inside you? You were breathing hard, trying to catch air as your boyfriend continued to lap his tongue with yours, guiding your hand to continue fondling his wood while it grew bigger the more stimulated it got. By letting you touch his hardened crotch together with his own, you realized that you had just unlocked a newfound fetish of yours. “D-Do you… do you think about doing it with me often?”

He bit your lower lip before pulling away, animalistic eyes sending you into an orbit of pleasure. “Do you mean if I touch myself to the thought of you a lot?” he teased, chuckling darkly at the obvious heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel excited at how vulgar he could be with his words. “I do jack off a lot, angel. And it’s always you in my mind.”

You didn’t even have the time to melt from his words, because before you knew it, he was already peeling the towel off your body to reveal your completely naked figure. Obviously, your first reaction was to get shy—with your heated cheeks, your inability to look him in the eyes, your little efforts in covering your breasts and crotch, but he made sure to pull your hands away while keeping his eyes on you. “…Don’t stare.”

Sukuna, however, didn’t listen. His dark eyes scanned every curve of your body, particularly around your chest area before he sighed and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe no other punk has seen you like this.”

Your confidence grew little by little because of his praises. “But isn’t that a good thing?”

“For sure.” He almost laughed at his own words, more so in disbelief, before he reached out to touch your bosom. “No one can touch you like this, either, baby.”

“That’s—”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend smirked at your reaction. While his other hand went to squeeze your breast, the other traveled to your bum, squeezing the cheek with equal fervor. “Can I have a taste of you, baby?”

He fondled your breasts with both hands now, massaging the rounded mass like they were his property. You had to admit to yourself that the feeling of being touched actually transcended your expectations. Or maybe it was only because of how erotic it was, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as his veiny, manly hands cupped your bosom.

And as soon as you nodded and permitted him to ‘taste’ you, he took no time in gently pushing you down the mattress, allowing you to lay at a comfortable position under him and his wanton stare. Taste you? He was more like eating you, when he pinned you against the mattress and sucked the skin on your chest. At first, his tongue rolled along your cleavage, inching closer and closer to your right breast while he had his hand squeezing the left. Your body naturally gravitated towards him as you arched your back so he could have better access to your chest. Not only your chest, but also your crotch as he started grinding his clothed manhood in between your folds.

“Mm…”

Sukuna’s mouth was on your breast now, suckling on your flesh and playing his tongue around your nipple. You couldn’t tell if it was pleasurable or painful because his tongue felt ticklish on your skin, but the suction definitely was an entirely different feeling. Both weren’t bad, anyway. They were just new to you. But even if they were foreign, you were curious and all the more interested, studying every little thing he was doing with your body and trying to make mental notes out of it.

Maybe you should have watched porn. That way, you could have been more aware of the step-by-step process of having sex. Who knew there were steps to follow at all? You didn’t think that foreplay could draw this much delay in your session because all you thought was that he was going to insert his cock straight inside you as soon as he saw you naked.

With all the touching, fondling, and kissing… what were you supposed to do? He was doing all the work here.

“Baby,” you spoke softly, staring at the ceiling, “C-Can I… touch you?”

Instead of pulling away, his mouth latched onto your left boob, giving it the same attention before moving south. “Not yet.”

When he said that, you didn’t expect his hand to land on your crotch. Your heart was thumping at an irregular rhythm as you felt his fingers moving in circles around your bud, playing with your clit before spreading your folds apart. “Nghh—!” you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, eyes widening at the sound of your voice, but your boyfriend shushed you by placing a peck on your lips before spreading your legs into a V.

“You’re so wet,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading your labia to reveal your entrance. Something about the situation made you increasingly self-conscious, but his undeniably hungry gaze kept you from covering your most sensitive area. It seemed like he was enjoying the sight of your pussy, especially with how wet and ‘untouched’ it was. “Your pussy’s so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, lowering his face closer to the area, “Can’t wait to put my dick inside it.”

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue in between your folds. No, you couldn’t even think straight after he started teasing your vagina, alternating between flicking his tongue around your bud to french kissing your entrance. His tongue was so deep in your cavern that you were raising your hips involuntarily, going insane from the pleasure it sent your body. Your hands even gripped the sheets and your back arched into a C as you held back from moaning like a wild animal. At some point, the slurping sounds and the feeling of his mouth kissing your vagina had your legs shaking.

Though, you could ask yourself: what turned you on the most? Was it him actually eating your pussy or just the idea of him doing it?

And just when you thought he was done, he replaced his mouth by inserting a finger inside your cunt, garnering a much louder whimper out of you. “B-Baby!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, eyes locked with yours as he slowly moved his middle finger in and out. “It’s so tight.”

“It hurts…” You nodded, feeling his finger moving in circles inside your cunt as though he was trying to get a feel of your walls, measuring the tightness and such.

He kissed you for a good minute. “Relax, angel. Don’t clench too much.”

Clench? You didn’t even know you were doing such a thing. “How to…?”

“Just relax.” Sukuna placed a hand on your abdomen, pressing it down while he was inserting yet another finger inside of you. “This’ll help you prepare so it won’t hurt as much later.”

Now, you were goddamn nervous. What did he mean it wouldn’t hurt as much? Because you were overthinking the pain of having him his actual cock inside of you. If you couldn’t even bear having his two fingers inside you, how much more with his clearly thick shaft? It was ridiculous to feel both anxious and yet aroused at the same time. Anxious, because you knew he could rip you open. Aroused, because his fingers were currently doing a great job at hitting your most sensitive spot. Whatever it was that he was reaching, it was certainly sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body.

His fingers continued to move. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Around. When he pulled his digits out, he sucked the juices on them, tasting every drip of your essence from his fingers. “Sweet.”

Were you? You started to get curious at how he tasted, too. Sweet? Salty? Bitter? You seemed to be moving on autopilot when you pulled yourself up and sat in bed on your knees. “Your turn?”

You asked the question as if you knew what you were doing, which was why Sukuna found it adorable and humorous at the same time. He did help you pull down the sweatpants that had been covering his erection for what felt like eternity, only to reveal a monstrous size that sprung out of the garment.

Holy fuck was all you could say.

He stood at the edge of the bed, a devilish smirk displayed on his saintly face as he saw the length of his cock compared to your face. You obviously hadn’t seen many cocks in your lifetime to be able to compare his size, but in your eyes, he was definitely big. He was girthy. He was lengthy. He was veiny. Meaty.

“Wanna suck it for me, baby?” he encouraged, pumping his shaft while looking at you. Fuck. “Open your mouth.”

You did as told, wrapping a hand at the base of his length while placing his tip on your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat on the surface of his tip, rolling your tongue around the head as if it were a lollipop. Was that what you were supposed to do?

“Eyes on me.” His voice deepened an octave. And it was also raspier.

Why did he want you to look up at him? It was already embarrassing.

“I said, eyes on me, angel.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to lock eyes with his darkened ones. Damn. No wonder girls were desperate to see him in his shop every single day. This was probably what they had been daydreaming about. “Suck my cock.”

In your head, you became a slut. In reality, you were still a shy, inexperienced virgin who didn’t know what to do. You relied on his instructions and looked at his expressions to know if you were doing a good job and to see what he liked and didn’t like. He definitely liked it when you sucked the head, liked it even more when you started to let him go deeper in your mouth, and surely liked it a hell lot better when you gagged after his cock hit the back of your throat. But in spite of the string of saliva that left your mouth after gagging from his cock, his arousal only grew harder, this time holding your hair in his fist as he began thrusting his hip forward. You were bobbing your head at a rhythm that satisfied him, feeling the stretch on your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair.

“Tighten your mouth around it,” he instructed, fucking your mouth senselessly like hitting your throat was driving him nuts. Your eyes were already filling up with tears because of your urge to gag again, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to stop now while he was just starting to pleasure himself.

This was the first time in your life to give someone a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to make of that experience. It personally didn’t give you pleasure, but you liked hearing his desperate moans. You liked hearing him curse and get vulgar with his words. You liked seeing him get rough. His taste, on the other hand, was somewhat a different experience. Since you were only sucking his flesh, it was a tad bit salty at first contact but didn’t taste anything much after tongue got used to the skin around his shaft. Perhaps his cum would have a stronger flavor, though it looked like he had no plans in releasing his load into your mouth as he pulled his member out.

“Fuck it,” he grunted, gently pushing you back and spreading your legs wide open again, “I wanna feel your pussy so bad. Can I fuck you raw, babe?”

All those condoms, and he wanted to have you raw?

“But… I don’t wanna get pregnant.”

His face was full of assurance, shaking his head and denying any chance of knocking you up. “You won’t be. I’ll pull out, I just… I have to feel you raw the first time. I have to.”

“Okay…”

You were nervous as hell. You had butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t silence. You had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, the reality of it was too overwhelming. Your mind yet again raced with a whirlwind of doubts and insecurities, and every nerve on your body seemed to be on high alert while you watched him getting occupied with rubbing his entire length with lube, ensuring a smooth entrance inside you.

He was nervous too, right? You couldn’t be the only one. You couldn’t be.

You just wanted everything to be perfect. To show him how much you cared. To feel that you were enough. But the thought was paralyzing. Tonight was more than just physical intimacy; it was a step forward in your relationship, a moment of connection you wanted so badly to cherish. This first intimate encounter should be filled with love, respect, and mutual understanding.

But what if after this, he’d come to realize that you weren’t the one? What if he’d get disappointed and tell you that you weren’t worth it? What if he’d leave you for someone else who could pleasure him better? What if, after you had given yourself to him, no one else would ever appreciate you anymore?

You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the intimacy of your connection. You wanted to explore this uncharted territory with him, to dive headfirst into the unknown and discover what lay on the other side. But were you really ready for this? Did you truly want this? Would it be everything you had imagined, or would you regret losing your virginity to him?

The fear of inadequacy gnawed at your confidence as Sukuna positioned himself back in between you, his tip rubbing at your slit a couple times before he finally sunk it into your entrance.

“Haaa—!”

“Shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“N-No, I—!”

It felt like your walls were being stretched so painfully, like your flesh was being torn open in the most agonizing way. This was not the kind of pain you pictured out when he put his member inside. Sukuna even tried to grab hold of your hips to keep you steady, but you were withdrawing your hips back, wanting nothing but for him to remove his cock.

“It hurts… It hurts… please, stop. Please!”

“Baby, I’m trying to be gentle—”

“I SAID STOP!”

Both of your eyes widened at the same time, and that was the only time you two were ever in sync. He was clearly shocked by your outburst, while you yourself were surprised at how you raised your voice at him. Neither of you expected that situation. As a result, he did pull away and completely withdrew himself from you.

Frustration was evident on his visage and he couldn’t even hide it anymore. “Fuck this,” he spat in exasperation, taking a deep breath as he reached to slip his sweatpants back on. “I knew it.”

��No, I…” You swallowed. “It just… You kinda forced it, I wasn’t ready.”

“I forced it, really? I forced you?” His laugh was out of complete disbelief. “I never forced you into anything, angel. I’ve asked you since the beginning if this is really what you want.” He took a pause, a very uncomfortable one, before he went on murmuring, “It was just my tip and you’re overreacting like this. I’m not even halfway in.”

His agitation had finally awakened you to your senses, realizing that you did end up doing what you were scared of doing. You ruined the moment. You were so caught up in your bubble of negative thoughts that you had once again failed to fulfill what you were supposed to do. No wonder he was aggravated, now sitting away from you and wearing his clothes as if telling you that he was done. Done being blue balled by his own girlfriend. Done expecting something he was never really bound to have.

You reached out to touch his arm. “Baby, I’m sorry… I just got scared, but we can still—”

“Still do it?” he continued your sentence by ironically cutting you off, “No, the fuck, I won’t. I’m not in the mood anymore.”

His reaction brought tears to your eyes, because the way he was acting stung your fragile heart. You didn’t mean to ruin anything. More importantly, you didn’t wish for everything to just turn out like this. “I-I’m sorry. Let me try again, please.”

The weakness of your voice seemed to have softened him, becoming calmer and more composed after a few minutes of contemplation, but he still held his ground when he massaged his temple and sighed. “Let’s just not push it, Y/N.” He looked at your eyes, with hurt and rejection reflecting on them. “Even if you say you wanna do it, you think I can’t see it in your face that you’re not really into it? You’re never ready for me and maybe it’s my fault, maybe there’s something about me that you’re so scared of. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel secure with me, maybe you wanna save yourself for someone better, someone who can give you a brighter future—”

“That’s not true!” You shook your head desperately, your eyes blurring from the pool of tears while you clung to his arm. Where was all this coming from? It sounded like he had been harboring those feelings for so long. “That’s not true. What are you even saying?”

“I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just…” Trying to give a reason why you won’t give it to me. That must be what he had wanted to say. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into this bullshit anymore. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m begging for your affection like this. Intimacy should happen normally for couples, and if we can’t have that, then we can’t. That’s it.”

Why did he sound like he was giving up?

You tried to keep your emotions at bay while listening to him battling with his internal thoughts. “I understand I disappointed you tonight, but…”

He was adamant at shaking his head, distancing himself from you by getting up from the bed. “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s your body and your choice. I’d never force you into anything.”

Then… then…

“I just think it’s not the perfect time,” he continued, shooting you a glance before looking away. Each step he took added another crack on your fragile heart. “From now on, I’m never gonna initiate anything intimate nor will I expect anything from you, aight? I’m over it.”

Alone in your vulnerability, you could feel the cold air hugging your naked body as you watched him walk towards the door, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. “Where a-are you going? Come on… Please.”

He no longer cared to turn around. He no longer bothered to comfort you as he walked away, muttering, “Just gonna go for a ride. Don’t wait on me.”

— —

Nearly three weeks had passed since that night and you would be lying if you said everything was okay.

No, everything was not okay. You could feel the distance growing each day even when you two still did everything together. Your normal routines didn’t feel normal anymore because he was acting too detached ever since he told you that he wouldn’t initiate anything intimate ever again. And to be honest? It hurt. A whole fucking lot. Hearing your partner say that they would never wish to do anything intimate with you was probably the worst way to experience heartbreak. Because he was truthful with it, and he showed it very openly.

Now, he’d lock the door whenever he would take showers. He’d spent most of his time outside riding his bike until midnight. He stopped texting you sweet messages while on tattoo shop duty. He seldomly joined you to eat breakfast and dinner together. His back would face you whenever you two slept in bed. His eyes avoided you even when you walked around in underwear. His hand wouldn’t touch you even when you were centimeters close to him. There were no kisses exchanged either, unless obliged to do so when leaving the house. No hugs. No hair-stroking, hand-holding sweetness ever shared. You were simply cohabiting in your shared apartment like strangers who had barely even said I love you’s.

“Man, that’s rough,” remarked Suguru Getou, your cousin and the barista, as he tidied up the counter behind the elevated bar. Having just served his friend an Americano, he listened intently as you vented about your situation with Sukuna. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. It’s not looking good for you.”

You knew that. You just refused to acknowledge it. “I mean, all couples fight.”

Suguru shook his head, however. “You two aren’t even fighting. Dude just gave up and started detaching himself from you. If that’s not a sign already, then I don’t know what is.”

“What sign?” you asked, hiding the obvious worry in your voice. You need not be dense about his words, but you wanted to have some kind of hope to grasp on.

“Sign that he’s falling out of love?” he continued.

And somehow, his white-haired friend thought it would be okay to chime in. “More like a sign that the tool's not interested anymore and is about to dump her.”

Your face felt hot and in the most terrible way. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t expected the guy to suddenly chime in, considering he had been quietly typing on his laptop just moments before. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, so don’t go listening to somebody else’s business when you’re not part of the conversation.”

“Jeez,” said the albino guy, grinning at your cousin as if amused by your barrage of a response. “She’s a yapper, too. I thought she was supposed to be this sweet and innocent type, Suguru?”

“Not always.” Suguru chuckled at his friend before turning to you, apologetic eyes now attempting to soothe your nerves. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Satoru just likes to tease people. Don’t mind him.”

You kept a straight face. “Well, then maybe tell your friend to keep his nose out of conversations he’s not invited to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru gave you a playful salute before extending his hand towards you. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I actually sympathize with you. If it were me, I’d never do that to you, baby.”

Oh, God. You were so bad at this. Was he flirting with you or was he simply playful like this?

Nevertheless, you rolled your eyes and ignored the hand he offered, essentially brushing off his advances. “I don’t need sympathy. All I’m here for is to talk to my cousin to try and have his advice on the matter,” you emphasized pointedly, making it clear to Satoru that he was the last person you wanted advice from. “I don’t need a stranger listening to my personal life.”

“Doesn’t hurt to receive advice from another guy,” countered Satoru, shrugging. “Right, Suguru? I mean, we’re both guys. We can give you some insight into how men think.”

You felt the urge to bury your face in your hands. It was clearly a mistake going there and putting yourself in that situation, and now having two guys aware of your sex life with your boyfriend. That alone was so wrong on many levels. But could it be helped? Suguru was your closest cousin, the only one who didn’t turn his back on you after you left your parents’ home. He was working at a cafe three blocks away from your flower shop and you happened to be delivering a batch of fresh floral decorations for their cafe. You obviously found it a good opportunity to open up to him about your struggling relationship and hoped he could offer some male perspective on Sukuna’s behavior. You just hadn’t anticipated his friend eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time.

Well, that should have been expected anyway, since only the three of you were in that cafe on a lazy Wednesday afternoon.

“I don’t kiss and tell, by the way.” Satoru was beaming as he gave you that assurance and you couldn’t help but admit that the man had some charm in him. He was attractive, no doubt about it. He was also tall, toned, and seemingly well off based on the way he dressed. He had a casual yet preppy style, something you would normally see from guys who went to private school.

“Do you work?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Oh, now she’s interested.” Satoru seemed to have found your sudden interest in him humorous. “I’m finishing my MBA, miss. Thank you for asking.”

“He’s a privileged rich kid with generational wealth and a family business,” Suguru remarked, playfully gesturing a cutting motion across his neck. “Definitely not your type, huh, Y/N?”

“Why, what’s her type?” The white-haired man looked intrigued, pulling his stool closer. He had that stupid grin on his face as though the topic just sparked his curiosity. “What’s her boyfriend like?”

Suguru, who wanted to play along, jokingly hummed in deep thought. “He’s got tattoos, likes to tattoo other people, is a college dropout, rides a big bike, smokes and drinks, listens to heavy metal, was probably a delinquent and a juvie alumni—”

“Excuse you, he’s never been in a juvenile detention center,” you defended your man, feeling like your cousin’s categorization of Sukuna was becoming a little too derogatory and you had to correct him for that, “and he’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring, he’s passionate, and he loves me sincerely.”

“Sincerely, not?” Satoru quipped, earning your glare in return. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I'm just joking. If you believe he’s all that, that’s your choice. I don’t judge booktok girls who romanticize typical bad boys.”

You rolled your eyes at his audacity. Each word that left his mouth seemed to stoke the flames of your irritation. “You’re so offensive, I’ll have you know that.”

The white-haired guy smugly took a sip from his coffee. “At least I don’t make girls feel guilty for not having sex with me.”

“Oooh.” Suguru was clearly enjoying the show, unaware that you were one step closer from smacking his friend across the face. “Touché. He kinda has a point, Y/N.”

“Be serious,” you warned.

To which he agreed to. “Okay, I am being serious now,” he said, abandoning his playful stance to lean in on a more solemn posture against the counter, “If you think Sukuna makes you feel guilty for not doing it with him, then shouldn’t that speak for the kind of relationship you two have? He wants something you can’t give. His reaction tells you everything you need to know about him.”

You tried to absorb his words with a better understanding and without any bias. “Isn’t his reaction normal? He’s a man, too. I understand his needs and I made him feel somewhat rejected.”

“It’s all about respect, Y/N,” answered Suguru, “If he’s a decent man, he wouldn’t make you feel that way. No mixed signals, no guilt tripping, no nothing. If you can’t do it, then don’t.”

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t feel the same if your girlfriend keeps rejecting sex with you?”

Suguru smirked. “I never said I’m a decent man, either. All I’m saying is if what you want isn’t exactly aligned to what he wants, then maybe it’s best you break it off with him because this shit won’t get you anywhere, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna dump you before you know it. I mean, it’s one thing to pretend he’s all fine with it, and it’s another to distance himself from you like he’s silently protesting.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Satoru joined in once again. “It’s impossible for a guy like that to be in a relationship for so long and not have any pussy. We think of sex 24/7, some of us are just better at restraining ourselves than others. He’s putting up with it now, but it’s only a matter of time he gets sick and tired of waiting. You do realize he can get any girl he wants, anytime he wants, right?”

Although you were still uncomfortable at Satoru casually chiming in on the conversation, it was true when they said they could give you the exact male perspective you needed to hear. This allowed you to go deeper into Sukuna’s psyche and understand why he was acting that way. You just didn’t know how to save the connection you have with your boyfriend when both your cousin and his friend were describing all the red flags on Sukuna’s behavior.

“I don’t know,” you spoke in a tone of defeat. “I kinda understand where he’s coming from, so I can’t just leave him for it. I love him.”

Satoru looked at your cousin like you couldn’t be saved. “She’s in too deep.”

“Yeah, gaslighted as fuck.” Suguru was shaking his head in disappointment.

The taller man chuckled and brought up a ridiculous offer to lighten the situation up. “Honestly, Y/N. I know we just met and all, but if you ever need someone to teach you how to do good in bed, just hit me up. He’ll never know.”

“Shut up,” you shot back at Satoru, eyes rolling at his remark.

“You’re out here feeling bad for that guy when he could be fucking his clients at the tattoo shop.”

You argued. “No, he’s not—”

“Are you sure he isn’t?”

It wasn’t Suguru nor Satoru who posed that question; it was Yuki Tsukumo, the café’s manager and Suguru's respected senior. She was in a relationship with one of your boyfriend’s stepbrothers, Choso, and was also a fellow biker, which allowed her to cross paths with Sukuna in their community. Despite this connection, she was never particularly close to him. In fact, Yuki didn’t personally get along with Sukuna and she was very vocal about it. She was, however, a regular client of yours and ordered floral arrangements from your shop on a weekly basis.

It had been awhile since you last saw her, and didn’t expect that the first greeting you would give her was a question. “Yuki, what do you mean?”

Great. Now, three people know about your relationship quagmires.

She was placing her helmet at the counter and sitting on a stool before answering you, “I really think you should talk to him about it, Y/N.”

No, no. Why did you suddenly feel a pang of anxiety out of nowhere? Something about the sympathy in Yuki’s eyes felt unsettling, and it sent a wave of fear through you. She definitely knew something. What was Sukuna doing behind your back?

“Can you please just tell me?”

Her gaze studied your face intently, as if deliberating on the right thing to do. “Well... I spotted him riding with a girl the other night. Initially, I thought it might be you, but last night, I saw them together again. I recognized her... because it was his ex. I think he’s been giving her rides home lately.”

Amidst the quiet of the room, your heart felt like it was breaking in two. The sudden revelation sent you into an abyss of pain.

“You might wanna visit his tattoo shop later.” Yuki encouraged me with a comforting smile. “It may be best to confront him about it.”

— —

Sukuna wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. It wasn’t like he was purposely avoiding you, but he just didn’t feel comfortable acting like everything was fine and dandy. Because if he was damn honest, the sexual frustration was fucking with his head. So much so to the point where he started questioning himself if he should still put up with a relationship like this.

First of all, there were pros and cons involved. He had to consider that it was a special connection filled with special memories, too.

If he was talking about the pros, he knew he would have a loving lifetime partner with you. You were beautiful, kind, and pure. You inspired him and motivated him to be better. You were unmaterialistic and happy with the littlest things. You gave his dominant side the urge to be a better man, like he was made to protect and provide for you. You became his muse; a blank canvas that was all for him to paint on. A canvas that no one had ever touched. Or, in your world, a white lily that was associated with chastity and virtue.

But then, there were also cons, and the foremost of it being you were too conservative for your own good. You grew up in a strict environment with uptight parents who wanted to control your life. He could never voice it out, but he really hated that you were square like your parents sometimes. You were too traditional and afraid to explore new experiences, oftentimes policing him for living his life as free as he wanted it to be. The ‘opposites attract’ thing did seem to work in your relationship at first, with your differences being exciting for each other, but as time went by, it became clearer to him that you two were too different to actually be in sync together.

Hence why your relationship became rigid and suffocating, forcing him to take a breather by distancing himself from you for some time. He did this for your benefit, because he had to clear his head before risking losing you for good. He didn’t want to jeopardize a relationship that he knew meant the world to him. Perhaps this was just a phase, a challenging period following the honeymoon phase, where all your differences seemed to become more pronounced.

But to repeatedly make him look forward to sharing intimacy with you, only for you to back out at the very last minute? Man, was that so frustrating.

It didn’t help that it was destiny itself that seemed to be stirring the pot. Because while you two were going through a rough time in your relationship, the irony presented itself outside of Sukuna’s tattoo shop late at night just as he was about to close.

“Ryo?” A tall woman with athletic build, long dark hair, and beautiful doe eyes came into view with a wide smile on her face.

His ex-girlfriend of three years.

Sukuna held the door for her albeit the confusion in his eyes. “Yorozu?”

The only difference he noticed was that she had become a lot sexier, with the curves on her body more womanly than ever. It was obvious that she was active in the gym to achieve such a fit physique. But other than that, her facial features were the same. Her heart eyes still shone bright at the mere sight of him, as if they carried stars and galaxies.

“I think I came too late,” said Yorozu, smiling in disappointment, “I should probably just return tomorrow.”

“No, you’re good.” Sukuna insisted on letting her enter his shop, closing the door as soon as she was inside. “What brought you here?”

She stood confidently in front him, wearing nothing but a blank tank top and some loose white pants. “Funny story ‘cause I actually just moved to this city recently and I just found out you had a shop in this area.”

Oh? That was interesting, indeed. Sukuna wondered how she even found his shop in that case, while he was leading her to the tattoo chair. “Are you here to get a tattoo or?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.” She was sprinkling some charm in her grin. He knew her too well. “I think it’s amazing that I’m gonna get it from you again.”

While Yorozu was talking to him, he couldn’t help but ask: was it wrong for him to be in the same vicinity as his ex? Considering how jealous you could get, this was definitely wrong in your eyes. But as he wasn’t doing anything sketchy, he figured there was nothing wrong about what he was doing. Yorozu was technically a client and he couldn’t deny her his services since she was basically a friend of his, too. So, was he breaking any code here?

“Well, only if you have time now, of course,” she added out of consideration, “It’s kinda late so I can always come back.”

Sukuna shook his head and headed to get his book of tattoo art samples. “It’s fine. I got clients lined up all day tomorrow, so,” he said, placing the book on her lap, “You wanna check that or do you have a design in mind already?”

Yorozu’s eyes fell on the tattoos marking Sukuna’s body, her gaze landing on every familiar inch as though she had seen them all the time before. It was true. She had seen more of him, actually. She had done more with his body, too. “I kinda wanna get a sleeve, but I want you to choose the design for me.”

A tattoo sleeve? Damn. It was something he would never in a million years see from you, but for Yorozu, it was totally normal. She was as obsessed with ink as he was. And although she’s had a couple of tattoos in her body already, which were done by him, it would be her first time to get a full sleeve.

“I get to choose, really?” Sukuna chuckled lightly. If he were to think of Yorozu’s traits, she was definitely a classic red rose. A seductress, alluring woman was how he saw her and the said flower would be a true-to-life representation of her personality. She was passionate when it came to loving someone, and was completely devoted to him back when they were together. The only reason they broke up was because they were too similar, as if she was his counterpart, and he saw fit to leave a relationship where they both constantly battled for dominance. Yorozu could get too aggressive on loving someone and he didn’t particularly like that. He made her understand why they weren’t working as a couple, and it took her some time, but she eventually accepted his decision. Now, you could say, they were somehow on good terms. “Alright, I’ll do your sleeve, but I’ll keep the design as a surprise.”

Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the thought. “I’d love that!”

“Since you want a sleeve, we’re gonna do some stencil application today.” Sukuna didn’t waste any more time in getting ready with his equipment, biting on the glove while wearing the other on his hand. “It’ll take fifteen to twenty hours to complete a sleeve, and each session could last two to six hours depending on your pain tolerance. My schedule’s actually full all day until next week, but you can come around the same time every night so I can finish yours.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely fine with that,” she enthused. For some reason, Yorozu was happy with the idea. The idea of coming to visit Sukuna every night in his shop. The idea that they get to be alone. The idea that they would be able to reconnect just like old times. Those were the things that Sukuna assumed was going through her head.

And as he did start with his ‘client’, it was probably best to admit that the sexual tension was high. The room felt stuffy as the both of them remained there until midnight, with her sitting on the tattoo chair, and him doing her tattoo to her left. His eyes were intently focused on the intricate patterns he was doing on her arm, but also couldn’t avoid seeing the contours of her breasts since she was wearing such a thin tank top. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. He’d seen every part of her body from her neck down to her toes. He’d put her in every position from missionary to doggy. Goddamn, he could even remember how warm she felt around his cock. Didn’t she like it when he came inside her? Or when he made her swallow every drop of his seed?

Sukuna cleared his throat, shaking his vulgar thoughts away as he continued with Yorozu’s arm. He may not be cheating, but thinking back on those intimate experiences with someone else other than his girlfriend was definitely not morally right either. But what sexual experience could he reminisce about with you? That ridiculously embarrassing night you two had shouldn’t even be counted since he was trying so hard to forget about it.

He cleared his throat. Again. For the third time. “What, uh, what’ve you been up to?”

Yorozu, who had no clue about his thoughts, turned her face to look at him happily. “Not much, actually. The bar I worked at closed down, but I got myself a new job in this club as a full time hostess and part-time promoter. You should come by. Drinks on me.”

By not exactly accepting or refusing, Sukuna decided to just smile it off. “That’s why you moved to this city?”

“Yeah, I mean… obviously, the rent here is higher, but it’s closer to my job. I get paid decently, too.”

“That’s nice.” He was just trying to make small talk at this point. “Do you know your way ‘round here? How are you gonna get home?”

She considered her options. “Probably a bus or something?”

Sukuna paused, contemplating the situation. “There's no bus here at midnight,” he remarked, concerned for the girl who would have to navigate her way home alone at such a late hour. She was new to the area and clearly still adjusting to the commuter lifestyle. Unlike her, he had a vehicle that could safely transport her home. There would be no harm in offering, right? “Look, I have a bike and I usually take midnight rides, anyway. I can drop you off on my way home.”

“Really?” Her voice echoed excitement in them. “I’d appreciate it, Ryo. Thanks so much.”

Life was ironic, truly. He didn’t see this situation coming because he never expected that he would even come across Yorozu ever again. They didn’t have any contact prior, but he still saw her on social media whenever he (on very rare occasions) decided to check his accounts. He never had her blocked, either, which was why you knew about Yorozu after snooping through his phone and reading through some of his old messages with her. Sukuna used to tell you not to worry about her, and that she was just his ex, and that she had nothing on you—which were all true, of course, but it was funny to him now that the woman his girlfriend was most threatened by was back in his life.

And she was riding at the backseat of his motorbike, her arms latching at nothing else but around his torso. She was seated at the seat reserved for you, wearing the helmet that was bought for you, and holding onto a man that was rightfully yours. It all didn’t feel right.

But because Yorozu delighted in his habit of speeding on the highway, he had somehow forgotten about the guilt that was forming in his heart.

“You still have your ex’s Instagram?” Your questioning eyes met his defensive ones as he joined you in the living room, finding his space on the couch next to you. “I read your dms. Why haven’t you blocked her?”

Sukuna’s breath remained steady. “Only toxic people do that shit.”

“But I’m not comfortable with it!” you nagged, letting him snatch his phone from your grasp.

“Do you see me talking to her still?” he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, “Baby, I don’t even talk to her. I don’t think she’s active there, either.”

You crossed your arms. “Then, block her?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being fair. You shouldn’t be keeping tabs with an ex.”

“What are you—” Sukuna decided to cut his own sentence after realizing that the argument was plain stupid. “You know what, I’ll just delete my insta.”

“How many times do you two do it?” you asked out of nowhere, sitting at the waiting area while he was closing his shop. “Your ex. How often do you have sex with her?”

What kind of trap were you setting now? If he told you an honest answer, you would get mad. If he lied or even sugar coated it, you would also get mad.

“Does it matter? Why do you keep asking questions about her and then get upset with me?” Sukuna’s frustration resonated in his sigh as he tidied the space where he tattooed his client a few minutes ago. “She’s an ex for a reason, so get over it.”

He was starting to get annoyed by your never-ending questions about his past experiences, but he knew you were simply coming from a place of no experience. You probably wanted to know what he liked in bed, what pleased him the most, what kept him from wanting more. Was that too much? No. Were you overdoing this entire thing? A little bit.

“Why are you defensive?” you asked softly, still sitting on the couch as you watched him avoid your eyes. “You make me feel so insecure every time.”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned around. “I don’t know, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, then do something about it.”

“Thanks so much for the ride, Ryo.”

Yorozu stood by her door, returning the helmet back to him while she kept her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was inviting, tempting him to give in and submit to his carnal desires. Any man would read her intentions the same way; Yorozu stared at him like that because she wanted to invite him to her place. She wanted him to spend the night and do unforgivable things. To remember the passionate exchange they once shared.

But Sukuna wasn’t like that. No, he wasn’t a cheater. “I, uh, gotta get going.”

“Oh…” Disappointment clouded Yorozu’s face. “Okay, then.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“...Alright.”

“Okay.”

“Wait!” Yorozu pulled his arm just as he was heading back to his motorbike. The sudden closeness in their proximity made his heart race fast. He knew what was coming. “I missed you, Ryo.”

He knew what she was about to do next.

And holy fuck did he guess right, as he was taken aback when Yorozu suddenly leaned in to press her lips onto his. Her soft, cherry lips moved desperately to taste his sweet kisses.

But he didn’t return it. Instead, he immediately pushed her away. “Yorozu,” he spoke softly, “I have a girlfriend.”

“You do?” She didn’t need to hide it. He could see the heartbreak on her face.

“Yeah,” Sukuna confirmed, maintaining a more appropriate distance now. “We’ve been together for some time, and I live with her.”

Yorozu tried to maintain her facade of indifference, making it appear as though she was unfazed by his revelation. “That’s... That’s cool,” she said, “I’m sorry for, uh, the kiss.”

Sukuna nodded, “It’s fine. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“You’re alright,” she reassured him, “It's totally my fault. I hope she won’t be upset with you or something.”

Sukuna had no plans to tell you, knowing well the additional turmoil it would bring to your already strained relationship. However, he realized the importance of clarity in his intentions and the need to set boundaries. “We’re just friends. We’ll keep things civil. I’ll finish your tattoo in a couple more sessions, and then we’re done. Sounds fair?”

Yorozu nodded her head with a reluctant smile. “Fair enough.”

— —

5 more days. Her sleeve required five more sessions, and days went by too fast for him to count. He had busied himself with his clients, while you had busied yourself with yours. He couldn’t even spend time with you because his shop took a chunk of his time from him, and even at home, things had become too awkward ever since your unspoken night.

So, in some ways, Yorozu became his routine. She visited his shop for the past four nights and he had taken her home afterwards. She was in absolute love with her rose sleeve and they weren’t even complete yet. He still owed her one last session and told himself that it should also be the last time she should be around him. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want to create another source of argument with you.

And in truth, he certainly felt a little guilty for spending more time with his ex than his own girlfriend. But did he purposely do it? No, it was fate that brought her to his door about a week ago.

In spite of his stubbornness to admit his wrongdoing, he still ended up stopping by the flower market to get you a nice bouquet of white lilies. He knew you could make a prettier bouquet than that, but he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to surprise you with flowers that didn’t exactly come from you. Besides, he had some making up to do.

Later that night, when he returned to your shared home, he found you sitting at the couch seemingly waiting for him to come home. The lights were dimmed and the television was turned off. For some reason, you were wearing outside clothes and had a somber expression on your face, too. That alone caused the loud thumping of his heart.

“Hey,” he greeted, nonetheless, sitting next to you on the couch and kissing your cheek. “Everything okay, baby?”

Your eyes carried sadness in them as you looked at him and searched for answers you couldn’t find. “Where were you?”

Sukuna handed the bouquet over. “Got you flowers.”

You didn’t accept them. Instead, every second seemed to torture you. “Where were you before that?”

“In the shop…?” He didn’t know where to start, but he was definitely scared. “Why? Sorry I’ve been busy lately. I’ll make it up to you, angel.”

“You close your shop at nine,” you pointed out, voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “Why do you always come home at two in the morning?”

Fuck. Fuck! What should he say? Should he make an excuse for it? Should he say he’d been checking on Yuuji after his shifts? Should he say he’d been riding to other cities to clear his mind? He didn’t fucking know what to say, especially not when you were clearly on the verge of bursting out.

“Answer me!” you cried, finally releasing the bottle out in the open. The tears that welled in your eyes now streamed ceaselessly down your face. “You’re an asshole. I-I hate you! I fucking… you think I don’t know? You think I’m too stupid to know?!”

Sukuna calmly received the fists you had swung on his chest as he tried to grab ahold of your arms. “Baby, I’ll explain everything.”

“No, damn y-you!” The tremor in your voice squeezed his heart in the most painful way because he hated seeing you breaking down in front of him and over him. This wasn’t the first time he had made you cry, but this was the first time he had seen you actually sob like this. “I-I gave myself to you! I left my p-parents for you! And this is what you do to me? You’re cheating on me with your ex?!”

He was desperate to hold you, hug you, cage you in his arms. He wanted to take your pain away. Wipe your tears away. However, you didn’t allow him to touch even a strand on your hair as you kept on pushing him off. Sukuna felt like he was going to lose his mind. “Baby, listen to me please. It’s really not what you think—”

“I don’t care!” you spat, moving away to wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t fucking care! You sleeping with her or not doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you get it? I’ll never be enough for you!” Despite your loud voice, the cracks in her facade only revealed your longing for validation and acceptance, etching into every tear-stained moment you two had shared over the course of your relationship. He watched you, paralyzed by the sight of you breaking down, as you grabbed a luggage you had been hiding behind the couch as if you were ready to leave. “I’ll never be the person you want me to be and staying with you will always remind me of it!”

“No, no, no… Let’s talk.” Sukuna had to suppress his own tears while he tried to reach out for you. “Baby, please. I don’t feel anything for her, or anyone. It’s just you. You are enough for me, baby. I’m sorry, please.”

You, on the other hand, were adamant at your decision. “I can’t stand what you’re doing to me anymore. I don’t like how you make me feel about myself. I hate how you make me question my own choices!” Tears continued to flow, and your voice wavered, transitioning from anger to a more subdued, pained tone. “I hate… I hate that I love you so much, that I lost all my backbone just to make you happy.”

“You don’t need to.” He was feeling more and more miserable now, his heart sore from all the emotions he had seen from you. “Y/N, you don’t need to. I’m sorry, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

…

“It’s over, Sukuna,” were the last words he could recall hearing before passing out drunk in his bed that afternoon. “We’re done.”

— —

It was your first heartbreak. Your first actual relationship. Your first everything. Surely, people shouldn’t expect you to move on easily, especially not when the subject of your heartache worked across the street from you.

You were a mess. You had cried enough tears after you moved out of his apartment that night, screamed your heart out as you suffered from the pain of loneliness once more. You couldn’t even bear the thought of returning to your parents and hearing them say they told you so, because loving Sukuna was a choice you thought was good for you.

In the end, he was just a poison without any antidote. A toxin without remedy. The most effective solution was to sever all ties to prevent further contamination.

But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen him in his shop ever since that night, either. The tattoo parlor remained closed for more than two weeks without any notice. While a small part of you worried for him, a bigger part of you cared for yourself. He no longer held any importance to your life, and you should let it remain that way.

What you should focus on, instead, was living your life without any trace of him. A life of independence, away from the toxicity of a manipulative man who constantly made you doubt yourself and what you offered. As they say, you have to learn to love yourself first before you can fully learn to love others.

And in your journey of knowing the truth of that saying, a certain white-haired man entered your floral shop on a somber Friday afternoon just as you were arranging preordered bouquets for multiple customers to pick up.

“Hey,” you greeted the man, surprised at his sudden appearance at your shop.

Satoru grinned as he approached you closer. “I’m here to pick up two bouquets.”

“Oh, it was your order?” Your eyes widened. Silly you. Of course, Suguru would order on his friend’s behalf. He wouldn’t even get his girlfriend some flowers, let alone his mother. So this being Satoru’s order made much more sense. “Okay, you got a bouquet of blush peonies and another bouquet of pink tulips, am I correct?”

He smiled handsomely, displaying his set of perfect white teeth while listening to you talk. “Correct.”

“For your mom?” you asked before you made your way to pick up the bouquets, handing them to him carefully.

His response came with a soft, affirmative hum. “Mhm. One for her,” he said, taking only the bouquet of tulips, “The other is for you.”

Oh, no, no, definitely no. You had seen this before and it didn’t go well.

“That’s lovely, but…” You offered a smile. “I’m not taking those peonies.”

Satoru acted innocent, his vibrant blue eyes coruscating under the ambient lights. “But it’s mother’s day.”

You playfully shook your head. “I’m not even a mother.”

“Yes, you are,” he went on teasing, “the mother of my future kids. I like to think in advance, you know.”

Honestly? This man started off with a bad impression on you, but he wasn’t actually so bad. He was an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person who carried positive energy around him. That, and he was decent, too. He was the type of guy your parents would have surely approved of. He was a degree holder like you, even pursuing graduate studies to run a business that was already generating an income that you could only imagine of getting. He was set for life with no uncertainty with what he wanted for his future.

“Satoru?”

He met your gaze. “Yeah?”

“About your offer last time,” you recalled, recalling his earlier jest about teaching you some things in bed, “I think I'd like to take you up on that.”

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader

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golden-cherry · 11 days

Text

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

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A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder.

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh.

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly.

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment.

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes.

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple.

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family.

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins.

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers.

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?"

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second.

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again.

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour."

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot.

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip.

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends.

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good.

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks.

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me."

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news.

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it."

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on.

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods.

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him.

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back.

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear.

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now."

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back.

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

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soaps-mohawk · 4 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 8: The Thing About Ghost

Summary: You should have expected something bad would happen. You just didn't expect this. Perhaps something good could come of it after all.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, slight Gaz x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, nightmares, violence, medical stuff

A/N: I started this chapter this morning. It just came spilling forth and thus you're getting a bonus update this week. I'm honestly so glad to have this one done. Now I can finally say something more than "you'll see" when you ask about Ghost.

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You reach a hand out from under the mountain of blankets, fumbling blindly across your nightstand until you reach your vibrating phone. You pull it under the blankets, blinking blearily at the name on the screen.

Kyle.

“Hello?” You mumble sleepily, your eyes already drooping again.

“Oh, so you can hear your phone vibrating but not me knocking at your door for fifteen minutes?”

You let out a quiet groan, burrowing back under the covers. “Comfy.”

“I’m sure you are, but it’s breakfast time, love.”

You let out a quiet groan, still not moving. “Not hungry.”

“You need to eat, love. You’ll be grumpy all morning if you don’t.”

He’s right. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get snippy and hangry. Yet, the comfort of your bed is calling, threatening to lull you back to sleep again.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me again.”

You startle back awake, groaning. “I wasn’t.”

“Come on, love. I don’t want to have to get Soap to kick in your door.”

You let out a loud, dramatic groan before grumbling acquiescence. You slide out from under your covers until you’re sitting on the floor, rubbing your eyes. You don’t bother hanging up as you set your phone on the nightstand before crawling over to the door, just close enough that you can reach up and unlock it.

You sit back on the floor, hair mussed and still in your pajamas. The door slowly swings open, Gaz leaning against the doorframe. He smiles softly down at you as you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily.

“That’s cute, but if we don’t get to breakfast, Price might send the cavalry searching.” He says.

You grumble, pushing yourself up to stand before you grab a sweatshirt and shoes, running your fingers through your hair to make it at least semi-presentable.

You lean against Gaz as you walk to the mess, resting your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. It’s quieter in the mess than normal, Gaz leading you through the line to get food, making your tray for you before you shuffle over to the table where the others are. You sit down next to Price, letting out a yawn as you stare sleepily down at your tray.

“Was starting tae get worried about ye.” Soap grins at you.

“Yeah, heard her phone vibrating but not me knocking for fifteen minutes.” Gaz says, taking the seat next to you.

“I was comfy.” You shrug, picking up your fork.

“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you slept.” Price says, grinning fondly down at you.

“Like a rock.” You say, before taking a bite of sausage.

“Good.” He says, almost beaming with pride that your little shopping spree yesterday worked, and that the added comfort in your room helped.

Your face warms under his gaze, practically able to feel him preening with pride. It makes something twist in your stomach, knowing that you made him feel that way.

The moment is broken as Ghost sighs, standing from the table to dump his tray and leave the mess.

Soap shakes his head as you watch him go, a frown pulling at your brows. “Don’ mind him. He could do with some soft blankets and more pillows of his own.”

The image of Ghost curled up with fluffy blankets and a stuffed strawberry of his own has you laughing loudly, not even bothered by the looks you get from the tables around you.

You lounge against Gaz’s chest, his arm wrapped around your chest. Your back vibrates every so often as he chuckles at something that happens on the TV. You’re focused on your book, content with a lazy Sunday afternoon.

“Don’ you two look cozy,” Soap says entering the rec room. “Don’ mind me.” He kneels on the couch next to your feet before flattening himself out between your legs until his head lands in your lap.

Your cheeks warm as he sighs out a breath, making himself comfortable. You set your book aside, electing to run your fingers through his mohawk. You wonder if you can put him to sleep that way like you almost achieved with Gaz. He lets out a content hum as your nails scratch at his scalp, running your fingers over the short cropped sides of his head.

You let yourself relax further against Gaz, absentmindedly massaging Soap’s scalp. Your gaze is on the TV but you’re not really watching, too caught up in the bliss of the moment to really care.

The moment is ruined as Soap’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He lets out a groan, shuffling around to fish it out, lifting his head to stare at the screen.

“Have to take this.” He murmurs, pushing himself up off of your lap.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning over your shoulder, kissing Gaz. Your eyes widen as he leaves the room, your heart starting to race. Of course they kiss each other. It’s probably the most natural thing in the world to them. You’ve just never seen it.

Much less be stuck in the middle of it.

The images begin to flood your mind, your face getting warmer and warmer. The mental imagine of being sandwiched between them while they kiss over your shoulder, hands everywhere, skin against skin.

“Enjoyed that, did you?” Gaz’s voice is husky in your ear, his lips brushing the delicate skin.

Of course he can smell the hike of sweetness in your scent. His hand drops from where it had been wrapped across your chest, his hand trailing down until it rests against your stomach. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, tongue darting out to taste.

“Soon.” He murmurs, before leaning back, resting against the couch once more.

Your face is burning hot, heart thumping in your chest. A shiver runs down your spine at the idea, your body relaxing further back against Gaz’s, your stomach fluttering as the warmth of his hand seeps through your shirt.

You’re ready when he knocks, standing in front of your door again. You open it before he’s finished knocking, his hand falling back to his side. He stares at you for a breath before he turns on his heel, making his way from the barracks.

You scramble after him as usual, following him into the gym and into the private room. You follow his lead of removing your shoes and jacket, falling into what’s become a routine for the two of you.

“We’ll work on combos again.” He says, wrapping your hands for you, before his own.

You go back through what you had done last time, all the combos you’d learned. Well, he told you. You’ve forgotten most of them after the exhaustion and a couple days off. You can tell he’s agitated already as he walks you through the combos, correcting your punches and stance.

“Move your feet when you punch.” He says, kicking your back leg out from under you, dropping you onto your knee. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re going to hurt me doing shit like that.” You murmur, fixing your stance again.

He grabs punch mitts, moving to stand in front of you. He calls out numbers, working through combos and punches. You miss a lot, still trying to memorize which punch belongs to which number and which order to swing your fists in. Part of you wants to drive your fist straight up the middle and into his face.

A sudden hit to your shoulder sends you sprawling to the mat. You lay there for a second before looking up at him in shock.

“What was that?” You say, getting back to your feet.

“Dodge or block, just like I taught you.” He says, swinging at you again with the mitt, forcing you back a step. “Your opponent won’t be standing still. You have to know how to throw punches and avoid the ones coming at you.”

You huff out a breath, trying to stay aware and throw the right punch. You don’t manage to block or dodge every one, your shoulders getting sore as he hits you. He’s not pulling his punches by much, and you can imagine the bruises you’ll sport later. You’re getting tired fast, the combination of the physical effort and the brain power growing to be too much at this intensity so soon.

A solid hit to the center of your chest as you sprawling out on the mat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a horrible wheezing sound. For a moment you think he might have actually injured you, fear in your eyes as he looms over you.

“Get up.” He says, shoulders squared like he’s the one in a fight.

“Give me a second.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I need a break.”

“There are no breaks in a fight.” He says.

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe I should just give up and die if I ever get in a fight.” You snap.

Something flashes through his gaze, the mitts hitting the floor with a thud. He grabs the front of your tank top, lifting you to your feet. He holds you in front of him, leaning down until you’re eye to eye.

“You think it’s that easy to die? When the time comes you can just lay down and let it happen?” He growls, emotions flickering like flames in his eyes.

“If this is what it’s going to take to live, then yeah.” You say, not backing down despite the prickling feeling at the back of your neck.

“You have no idea what it’s like, when death is looming over you. The fear, the regret, the overwhelming push to fight to survive.” He’s close enough that if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you could have felt his breath on your face.

“I don’t know because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter, I’m not trained like you. When I asked you to teach me to defend myself, this is not what I meant.” You say, shoving against his chest.

It takes him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. He catches himself easily, hands closing into fists at his sides. He’s ready to fight, you can see it. You’ve unlocked the alpha, angered the beast within him.

His scent bowls over you, sending you scrambling back out of instinct. The prickling at the back of your neck intensifies and you try to clear your head, preparing you for this fight. You don’t stand a chance, you know that. Going off instinct alone, he could overpower you easily.

Despite everything in your brain telling you to run away, you do the opposite, racing towards him. He catches you before you can hit him, your feet leaving the ground as he slams you into the mat. You kick and claw at him, catching him in the ribs but it doesn’t even seem to phase him.

“What was your plan?” He growls, pressing harder against your chest as he keeps you pinned. “Try to take me off my feet? I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s never going to work.”

“Then stop being such a dick!” You yell, landing a kick against his hip. “You’re just a bully. A big bully. You’re just like my dad!”

Both of you freeze at your words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. His hand closes around the neck of your tanktop and for half a moment you’re scared he might sink his hand in and pull your spine right out through your chest. Instead he releases you, pushing himself up with a growl and making for his shoes.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he slips them on, grabbing his things before leaving out the door.

You stare at the door wide eyed as it slams closed. You’re still laying there, chest heaving. You stare at it, half expecting it to open back up, for him to come back. He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? He’s not supposed to. You’re supposed to have one of them with you at all times.

You push yourself up onto shaky legs, slowly approaching the door, half expecting it to fly back open. Maybe he’s just standing right outside, maybe he’s just taking a breath and clearing his head. The handle is cold against your heated skin as you pull it open, sticking your head out.

The hallway is empty.

You quickly duck back inside, closing the door. He wouldn’t leave you. He wouldn’t leave you. Maybe he went to the bathroom. Maybe he just needed a moment to clear his head. Maybe he’s coming back.

You sink onto the bench, trying to control your breathing as it starts to get heavy. You can feel that buzzing sensation in your head, your fingers and toes starting to go numb with panic. The one time you leave your phone behind, it’s the one time you need it. Maybe he’s coming back.

You continue to sit there, waiting, fingers trembling as you put your shoes back on. Someone has to notice your absence eventually. Someone will notice you’re not in your room and you’re not answering your phone. Someone will come looking.

Or is this a test?

You’re panicking now, breaths coming in short gasps. You can’t just walk out of here using the front door. There’s alphas and betas crawling all over the gym and there could be a hundred between you and the barracks now. Someone will stop you. Someone will make a scene.

You can’t reach the windows. Even then, they don’t open and it would be a straight drop to the ground on the other side. You can’t go out the front, but there’s an emergency exit just a few feet down the hallway the other direction. The medical center is the closest building to the gym. Even if Dr. Keller isn’t in her office this early, any of them would be the most likely to help you, to alert Price to your abandoned state.

You have to get out of the gym. Your scent will reach the others in the building eventually, and someone will take notice. Someone will be bold enough to come after the lone omega. You’re panicking, your entire body trembling. Just out the door to the left and through the emergency exit. Then it’s just a few hundred yards to the medical center and then down the hall to Dr. Keller’s office.

You can make it. You spent three months running with the CIA. Speed has always been your strength. Get out the door before anyone notices. You have to get out before someone notices and blocks your exit.

Your mind goes blank as you throw open the door, feet slipping as you race around the corner and down to the emergency door. You don’t even feel the ache in your shoulder as you jam yourself against the door, not caring if it sets off an alarm as you shove your way out to the cool morning air. Your feet move without your brain needing to tell you as you sprint towards the medical building. There’s no one outside, no one milling in the area. No one sees you as you race through the doors, the automatic sliding doors almost catching you as you speed through them and down the hall. Your shoes squeak on the laminate floor, squealing as you slide to a stop in front of Dr. Keller’s office.

You don’t even check if the light is on before you’re frantically knocking. Your breaths are coming in shallow gasps, black dots dancing in your vision as you fight to get air into your lungs. You need to be somewhere safe, you need somewhere safe before you pass out. You can’t pass out in the hallway. It’s not safe.

You nearly fall as the door swings open, stumbling into the office. Dr. Keller says your name but you barely hear it, your legs giving out. She catches you before you fall, easing you into a chair. You sink into the plushness, shaking violently as you stare at her with wide, panicked eyes.

“What is it?” She asks. “What happened?”

“He...he left me!” You sob, your body starting to curl in on itself. “He...he just left me!”

Dr. Keller’s voice sounds far away as she speaks, your vision starting to tunnel. You barely register the blanket being draped around your shoulders, the soft fabric tickling your cheeks.

You don’t hear Dr. Keller on the phone, far too gone in your distress to hear the urgency in her normally calm and composed tone.

Dr. Keller opens the door almost as soon as the knock sounds. Price is slightly out of breath, having reached the office faster than she had expected him to.

“She’s in distress.” Dr. Keller explains as she lets Price into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him. “I need you to be clear headed.” She tells the alpha. “We can worry about why later, right now we need to get her calmed down, understood?”

“Yes, Doctor” He nods, fighting the urge to recoil at the sharp bitter tang of omega distress heavy in the air.

He’s angry, beyond angry but he knows he can’t let that take over right now.

“You’ll need to hold her.” Dr. Keller says, approaching where you’re sitting on the chair. You’re hunched over, arms clutched to your chest as you gasp and wheeze, almost hyperventilating. “It might be easiest on the floor.”

It’s like moving a stone statue as he takes you into his arms, muscles tense and joints locked as your body attempts to protect itself. He sinks to the floor with you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to support you.

“Slow deep breaths.” Dr. Keller pushes your head against his chest. “Get her to copy you. If her blood pressure gets too high, or she passes out we might risk losing her to her omega, and that will be dangerous for all of us.”

“I know.” Price says as he puts a hand on your head, keeping you against his chest. “I’ve seen it happen.” He presses his cheek against the top of your head, taking slow, even breaths. “Come on, sweetheart. Alpha’s got you. Need you to breathe for me.”

Dr. Keller slips a blood pressure monitor around your arm, fighting the stiffness of your limbs as she sticks a pulse monitor to your chest. Price continues to speak to you, trying to get you to relax.

Slowly as the minutes pass, your breathing begins to slow. Dr. Keller monitors your blood pressure and heart rate, watching it slowly begin to come down as the presence of your alpha soothes your distressing omega.

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your arm gently.

Your breathing slows, but your breaths are still heavy and shaky as you slowly begin to sink into Price’s hold, your muscles slowly relaxing from their tense state. You let out a high-pitched whine as the discomfort begins to set in, tears leaking from your eyes.

“I know.” Dr. Keller says gently. “You’re doing so good.”

You begin to shake uncontrollably again, Price tightening his hold around you. His hand moves to the back of your neck instinctively, gently massaging the tense muscles.

“It’s just the adrenaline.” Dr. Keller explains, moving to the closet and pulling out a stuffed bear. She kneels back down, working your arms away from your chest just enough that she can slip the bear into your arms. “Squeeze that for me.” She says, pushing on your arms until you take over, squeezing the bear to your chest.

You’re still crying as the shaking slowly begins to subside, another whine leaving your lips. You continue to squeeze the bear to your chest, brows pulling into a frown.

“Don’ feel good.” You slur, taking a deep breath in.

“I know, honey, I know.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your leg. “You did really good, coming down from that. Just keep breathing and relaxing for me.”

You continue to follow Price’s breathing, trying to will your muscles to relax in your exhausted state. Price continues stroking the back of your neck, his heart thumping steadily beneath your ear.

“One more squeeze on your arm and then I can take the monitor off.” Dr. Keller says, taking your blood pressure one more time. “It’s normal if she’s a bit achy and sore for a couple days.” She explains to Price. “She might be a bit disoriented later too. The best thing she can do is rest and someone should stay with her at all times just in case.”

Price leans his chin against your head, fighting the anger building within him. Something happened to cause this, and he has an inkling as to what it was. He tightens his hold around you as you sink into him even more, the shaking starting to subside.

“You don’t sedate for distress?” He asks as Dr. Keller removes the heart monitor and the blood pressure cuff from you.

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Sedation can make distress worse in some cases. It’s jarring and disorienting and in some cases the omega might wake up and continue distressing. It’s only useful in cases of an actual medical emergency, or if there’s no alpha to provide a sense of safety and the omega starts to take over. Then they become a danger to everyone around them and themselves.”

“I know how devastating that can be.” He says, staring down at you. “The worst people in the world like to use omegas as shields and bait. Sometimes there’s no other way...they get caught in the middle of bullets flying and explosions. The scent of blood and fear around them.” He shakes his head. “Even if they survive that, even if you save them, it’s too much and you just lose them to the omega.”

“It makes me sick.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “They’re human beings just like you and me and they get treated like chattel. They’re seen as nothing but property and valued only by what they can be used for. Omegas are incredible beings. In ancient cultures they were revered, worshiped. Some cultures believed they were closest to the gods, and some thought they were gods sent to earth to bless those that deserved it. How far humanity has fallen.”

“You have a lot of respect for omegas.” Price says.

“Respect, love, care. Someone in this world has to. That’s why I became a specialist.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Didn’t think I’d end up here, but if I can help even just one omega, that’s more than enough for me.” She pushes herself up to stand. “Let’s get her back to the barracks. She’ll be more comfortable in a familiar atmosphere.”

Price pushes himself to stand, keeping you close to his chest. Dr. Keller locks her office behind her before following Price as he carries you from the medical center.

“She needs to eat.” Dr. Keller says. “She won’t feel like it, but she needs the calories after that. She might be emotional and resistant for a bit, but once she’s fully awake she’ll be alright. Well...that might be a bad way to describe it. If anything happens, or she starts getting worse. Call me.”

“I will.” Price tightens his grip for a moment, pushing down the anger. He can’t let it take over yet. He still has you to take care of. He still has his omega to look after.

Dr. Keller opens the door to the barracks for him, watching him walk down the hallway for a moment before turning and leaving.

Price opens your door, carrying you into your room. He lays you on your bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he steps back out the door. The scent of distress is heavy on him still, as is his building anger.

“MacTavish! Garrick!” He shouts, both of the beta’s doors opening almost immediately. “Have either of you seen Lieutenant Riley this morning?”

Johnny frowns, both of them approaching the obviously agitated alpha. “Naw, I havenae seen him all mornin’.”

“I thought he was training this morning.” Kyle says, a frown pulling at his brows too. “Did something happen?”

He steps back into your room, the two betas following. Kyle sucks in a breath as he stares at you laying there, seemingly peacefully but the quickly suffocating scent tells him otherwise. He moves to your side, sinking down on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” Johnny asks, a subtle tremble to his voice.

“There was an incident this morning.” Price says, digging into the very depths of his training to keep his head on straight. “Sent her into distress.”

“That bastard.” Johnny growls. “When I find him-”

“Easy.” Price says, putting a hand on the beta’s chest to stop him from his rampage. “You and I are going to get some food and then come back here. Garrick, you stay with our girl. If anything starts to go wrong, you call Dr. Keller first, then me. Then, I’ve got ghost hunting to do.”

“Ye sure we’re alright, bein’ in her nest like this?”

“It’s not much of a nest. Besides, our girl needs us.”

“‘S cozy, that’s for sure.”

“Could get used to it.”

You have no control over the whine that’s pulled from your chest as you’re thrust into consciousness. You feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck, tossed from an airplane with no parachute, and like you just ran a marathon with no training, all at once.

“Easy, love.”

Hands smooth over your face, calluses rough on your burning skin. You feel hot, yet not warm enough at the same time. Your skin is prickling, needing freedom but to be held tighter than you already are. Someone is in front of you, their hand the one on your face. Someone else is behind you, wrapped around your back, arms keeping you held tightly against them.

“Can ye open yer eyes for me, pretty girl?”

Your eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. You don’t want to. You want to keep your eyes closed and sink back into oblivion where nothing hurts and you’re not confused. You let out another quiet whine before you force your eyes open, staring up at the blurry shape above you.

“That’s it, lovely.” Soap says, his fingers still stroking your face. “That’s a good girl.”

“Soap?” You whine, your voice cracking.

He shushes you, tucking your face against his neck, letting you inhale his scent. “We've got ye, lamb.”

Another hand trails down your arm, gently squeezing. You're sore, even your breaths make your body ache.

“You remember what happened, love?” Gaz says quietly, his hand the one gently stroking your arm.

You inhale sharply, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Ghost...” You breathe, the images coming to your mind but the words are lost. “Left me.”

“Aye.” Soap says, sounding hurt and disappointed. “He was being a right bastard and left ye in the gym alone. Ye ran for the med center. Found the doctor.”

“I...” You take a shaky breath, remembering the panic, the feeling of getting further and further from your body. “I was distressing.”

Gaz hums, wrapping his arms around you. “You distressed, love. Dr. Keller got Price in there in time, worked you through it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself go limp between them. It makes sense why you feel so awful, why your head is swimming. “What time is it?”

“Just after lunch.” Gaz says.

“Gave us hell tryin’ tae feed ye.” Soap says. “Half fightin’ us, half out of it.”

“Ghost?” You ask, almost afraid to find out the answer.

“Got quite the verbal lashing from Cap'n Price.” Soap says. “Was gone for an hour yellin’ at him.”

It doesn't feel like enough, but you won't admit that out loud. You lean back against Gaz, letting both of their scents wash over you.

“How do you feel, love?” Gaz asks.

“Hurts.” You murmur, wrapping an arm around Soap.

“I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this.” Gaz says pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Just relax, love. We've got you.”

You let your eyes slip closed again, relaxing between the two betas. You don't care that they're in your room, squished together in your bed with you. You need them and their support.

You'd prefer having Price too, but you won’t dare say that out loud.

You fade in and out of sleep, letting them help you up a couple times as they move around, and move you around, helping you stretch to ease the ache in your joints and muscles. You wind up laying on Soap as Gaz goes to get dinner, his arms wrapped around your middle as you rest on his chest.

“I am sorry about Simon.” He says quietly, lips brushing your forehead.

“Don’t apologize for him.” You murmur. “It was partially my fault. I was egging him on.”

“He shouldnae done tha’ though.” Soap says. “Leavin’ ye like that. ‘S dangerous, and not just for you.”

“I did good. I got out without running into anyone.” You say, trying to reassure yourself before you lose it again.

“You did perfectly.” A voice says, making you jump.

Soap gently rubs your back as you blink up at Price. He’s standing in the doorway, holding two trays of food. You hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Go on and eat in the mess, Johnny.” Price says, setting the trays on your desk. “I’ve got her for now.”

Soap gently eases you off of him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with Price. He carries over a tray, setting it on your nightstand before kneeling down in front of you. He turns on your lamp, illuminating the room more than it was with your nightlight and the fading light outside.

“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his.

“Sore.” You say, squeezing his fingers. “But less than I was earlier. Moving around helped.” You sniffle, wiping the tear that escapes. “A bit weepy too.”

Price smiles softly at you. “That’s expected. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.” He cups your face. “You did the right thing, taking the back exit and going for Dr. Keller’s office.”

“Was closer.” You murmur. “Less risk of running into someone.”

Price nods. “I doubt anyone would have stopped you, but that is still a risk.” He grabs the tray from the nightstand. “Eat up. I know you don’t feel like it, but you need it.”

It’s almost like he read your mind. He moves to your desk, sitting in the chair. The food looks less appetizing than usual, but you know he’s right. Omegas expend a lot of energy while in distress. You’ll feel better if you eat. From the sounds of it, Gaz and Soap had attempted to feed you while you were still out of it, though you’re not sure how successful they were.

You eat mostly in silence, but you don’t mind. You don’t have the brain power to think enough for a conversation, and you’re more than happy to just bask in Price’s calming presence.

Gaz and Soap return after dinner, Price taking his leave again. You’re sure he’s busy, especially after this incident, but you can’t help but feel the sting of it just a bit. He had helped you through your distress, calming you down. You want him to lay next to you, to hold the back of your neck and remind you that he’s here, that he’s got you.

That he’ll never leave you like that.

Instead you curl up between Soap and Gaz, letting the calming present of betas relax you back to sleep.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. Soap is gone, but Gaz is still pressed against your back, breathing evenly. You grab one of the phones off the nightstand, glancing at the time. It’s just past one a.m. You’re feeling thirsty again, and like you need to stretch your legs. Gaz is coiled around you, and you’re not sure how to get out without waking him up. You don’t want to disturb him, and you want a second to breathe and clear your head without the influence of his scent.

You carefully roll away enough to grab the strawberry pillow off the floor from where it likely rolled after Soap left. You slowly ease it between your bodies until he’s wrapped around the pillow, settling with a sigh. You let out a quiet breath, rising from the bed slowly and padding quietly to the door. Your eyes are on him as you unlock it, slipping out quickly. You leave it cracked open before sneaking down the hallway towards the rec room.

It’s quiet in the barracks, almost eerily so as you slip into the empty room, heading for the fridge. You stand there, half debating on a beer instead of water. Perhaps a little alcohol might numb at least some of the ache in your joins, or at least clear your mind a bit. You hate the taste of beer, though, and Gaz would know immediately.

You sigh, grabbing a water, the back of your neck prickling as you stand up. You close the fridge door, whirling around, a scream caught in your throat.

“Are you going to scream?” Ghost’s voice rumbles from behind his mask. He’s standing just inside the rec room, blocking the doorway.

“Are you going to hurt me?” You ask, flattening yourself against the fridge.

“Why would I do that?” He has the gaul to sound almost confused.

“You seemed pretty eager to this morning.” You say, clutching the water bottle to your chest. “You abandoned me.”

“I didn’t. I was right behind you the whole time, until you went into the med center.” He explains, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” You snap, getting agitated by the alpha and how he’s treated you thus far. “You just up and left me by myself in a vulnerable place. How was I supposed to know you were still there? For all I knew you were halfway back to the barracks. Was I just supposed to blindly trust that you would be there, that you would follow me if I decided to brave walking past a bunch of worked up alphas? I can’t trust that. I can’t trust you like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you haven’t given me a reason to!” You almost shout it, just managing to keep control over your volume so you don’t accidentally wake the others. “You don’t like me, you keep treating me like shit. Just going off of that, I wouldn’t put it past you to just up and leave me to fend for myself.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But you did! You did today! You put me in danger! I distressed because of you! I haven’t distressed since-” You cut yourself off, deflating a bit at your near slip of words. You’re not sure you want to open that can of worms, allow for that kind of vulnerability with the alpha that had nearly killed you earlier. But, maybe you do need that kind of vulnerability. Maybe he needs it. “Since I was taken to the institute.” You finish, feeling yourself deflating a bit.

Tears prick at your eyes, his own figure visibly deflating a bit. That scent is back, the one from a couple nights ago when you had run into him in a similar situation. You want out of here, you want back to the safety of doors around you, doors that could be opened and Ghost pulled from you easily if needed.

“Move.” You say, bravely squaring up to the alpha blocking you in.

He says your name like a warning, not budging an inch.

“Move!” You shout, going for his middle with your shoulder, but he’s faster, catching you before you can hit him.

“Calm down.” He growls, trying to hold your squirming form.

One scream. One scream and the others would be on you. How quickly could Ghost act, though? How quickly could his hand close around your throat and squeeze, or maybe even twist?

“Calm down!” He growls again, forcing you backwards.

Your feet slip on the tile, sending you back onto your back. You wince at the jolt to your already sore body, the air leaving your lungs in a harsh gasp. Ghost sinks down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the side of it like he can’t bear to hold himself up anymore.

“It was a long time ago.” He starts, the tiredness evident in his voice. His eyes are on the floor in front of you, not even looking up as you push yourself up onto your elbows. “Back when I was a newly made Sergeant. My first deployment, first mission. We were hunting a man, real scum of the earth, chasing him through the jungle.”

You almost want to stop him, unsure if he can even be telling you this, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything.

“Things got complicated when he swept through a village, picked up all the local omegas. He was using them as human shields. We cornered him in some run down shack. Him, his men, and the poor omegas. The commanding officer in charge of the mission started hostage negotiations, tried to get him to let the omegas go. He knew he’d lost, he’d never get out of there without being captured or killed.” Ghost shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. “So he agreed. The commanding officer had to have known. We all should have known.”

He goes silent, the quiet of the barracks and the world outside almost eerie. You’re sitting up now, almost holding your breath in anticipation. You’re not sure he’s ever spoken this much to you at once before, much less something that’s obviously so vulnerable, and potentially confidential.

“He sent the omegas out in all directions, running straight at us. We were ordered to stay where we were. We couldn’t run out there, we couldn’t help them.” His hands close into fists, his scent souring. “They started firing at the omegas. There was one running straight at me. I still remember her, the look on her face. The fear in her eyes as she raced towards me.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember how the blood felt splattering on my face. The bullet shot right past my ear. She fell close enough I could have reached out and touched her. Clean shot right through the back of her head.”

He shakes his head, finally looking at you. Tears have gathered in your eyes as you stare at him. His scent is sour, tinged with the tanginess that you had smelled a couple nights ago when he ran into you coming back from the rec room.

Fear.

That scent is fear.

“I still think about it. What if I had disobeyed orders? What if I had just reached out to help her? Would she have made it? Could we have brought at least one omega back to that village? Would the bullet have hit me instead?” He lets out a long breath. “I still have nightmares about it. See it clear as day, that look on her face seconds before her life ended.”

You’re moving, crawling closer to him. He doesn’t move, not even a blink or a flinch as you get closer and closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to see the light blonde color of his lashes. He still won’t look at you, his gaze on the floor as you sit in front of him.

“You saw me.” You say softly, not needing him to explain further. “Instead of some omega, it was me in your dream. You’re afraid. That’s why you treat me the way you do. You’re scared if you get close to me, if you allow me into the pack, allow me into this life, that something like that will happen to me. That’s why you were afraid that night, when I went to the rec room to grab water. You woke up from a nightmare about me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You’re beginning to understand him now. One moment of vulnerability and the complex specter that is Ghost is beginning to become clearer and clearer to you. He’s beginning to take shape, forming out of the mists of confusion and aggression that have plagued you since your arrival in his life.

“That doesn’t make what you did okay.” You say, breaking the eerie silence again. “It doesn’t make the way you treat me okay, but I guess...I guess I can understand why now. Why you’re so hard on me, why you resist my mere existence here. You don’t have to like me, I’d just like you to be nice to me a little bit. You’re never going to convince Soap not to pursue anything, so, you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.”

The corners of his eyes crease. It’s a half a second of movement, but you manage to catch it. He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes emotionless as they usually are when they look at you.

“I still don’t forgive you for what you did.” You say, staring up at him. “And I don’t trust you,” You pull your knees up to your chest. “But I suppose I was also a bit at fault, saying those things to you.”

“I deserved it.” He says. “I was being a dick.”

Your brows raise as you stare at him. “Are you...apologizing?”

“Don’t rub it in.” He says, the warning clear in his tone.

“Well, I guess it’s a start.” You say. “I should probably get back to bed before Gaz notices I’m gone.”

Ghost lets out a huff. “I’m surprised you escaped without him noticing.”

You shrug, pushing yourself up to stand slowly. “He’s snuggling a stuffed strawberry right now, so...that probably says a lot about one of us and I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Come on.” Ghost motions with his head. “Last thing we need is another panic at 2 am.”

“Another panic?” You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper as you leave the rec room.

Ghost chuckles. “You’ll have to ask Johnny about that one.”

You stare at him for a moment as you stand in front of your cracked door. “Goodnight, Ghost.”

He nods to you before you slip in, closing and locking the door. He stands there, listening to the bed shift as you crawl back into Kyle’s hold. He can picture the way the beta’s limbs coil around you like a snake. Would you lie facing him and cling to him like a koala? Or would you prefer facing away from him, letting him envelop you in a feeling of security and protection?

Ghost shakes his head, inhaling the faint whiff of your scent still in the air before he turns, staring at his door for a moment before moving back down the hall, slipping into Johnny’s room instead.

Taglist:

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o

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jellys-compendium · 17 days

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Eat Me

A Nanami Kento x F!Reader Vampire AU Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DNI)

Pairing: Vampire!Hunter Nanami Kento x Vampire F!Reader Summary: An aristocratic vampire working in the corporate world is a thing rarely seen, but you're determined to live the normal life you've always longed for. Once you escape your oppressive family, a friend recommends you reach out to the higher ups at JJK Inc., and before you know it, you find yourself settling into a new life. Everything is going smoothly once you settle into your new job; that is until you discover that your stern but outrageously handsome boss, Nanami Kento, knows all about your little secret. CW: smut, vampire au, human/vampire relationship, boss/employee relationship, forbidden love, mutual pining, vampire bites, blood drinking, grinding, dry humping, biting, finger sucking, nanami kento probably has a biting kink but you didn't hear it from me Word Count: 9.2K A/n: This is a rewrite of a previous fic that I posted in the past but have since deleted. Initially I had structured it as a multi-chapter work, however I want to explore some other AUs with Nanami so I decided to rework this into a standalone oneshot. Scenes have been expanded and added so I hope this feels like a fresh read to you all! <3

The putrid scent of burning flesh slams up Nanami Kento’s nose as he enters his target’s opulent office. It’s a familiar and deeply unpleasant smell, one that fosters bad memories and a nauseating churn in the pit of the hunter’s stomach.

Looks like someone beat him to the target.

Nanami’s nose scrunches against the offending aroma, briefly betraying his distaste before his trained gaze scans the spotless space around him. There are no signs of a struggle. Not a single table, chair, or speck of dust is out of place. Everything in this obnoxiously expensive office sits completely undisturbed, as if Nanami were the first person to enter it all week.

Cursing under his breath, Nanami removes his glasses. There is only one vampire hunter alive that is capable of such a feat, and Nanami has no desire to deal with his colleague's theatrical antics tonight.

Satisfied that there are no other uninvited guests in the shadows, Nanami pockets his shades in his breast pocket and journeys deeper into the darkened office. Like a hell hound he follows the scent of death. The soles of his shoes clack ominously against the polished floor with each step he takes, signaling his approach to his colleague.

Not that Gojo Satoru needed the warning.

The smell leads Nanami towards the massive windows that display the city’s beautiful skyline. The sight of the shimmering neon lights against the black backdrop of the night sky provides Nanami with the briefest of mental reprieves. Looking upon those lights, Nanami envisions with longing the night he could have had if he’d only not answered Masamichi’s call.

Enjoying the serene solitude of his apartment across town, sipping away at a glass of bourbon while he languidly worked away over his stove, experimenting with that risotto recipe that he’d seen while perusing a magazine easier that day. That would have been a night worth having. Not one where he had to think about corpses, monsters and death.

Rounding the ludicrously expensive desk that sits in the center of the room, Nanami’s honey brown gaze trails down to the floor, finally arriving at the scene he had expected to see.

A mangled corpse in the process of burning from the inside out lays on the floor. Its eyes are wide with terror and its mouth is stretched open in an eerie, silent scream that would have sent shivers down Nanami’s spine had he not seen this exact same scenario hundreds of times before.

A vampire in the throes of death is a gruesome thing. The sight, sound, smell, and brutal agony of it all will always haunt him. But even though dispatching them is rotten work, Nanami understands that leaving them to their own devices is even more so. The gluttony of their kind when their thirst overcomes their senses is unparalleled. That and their lust for cruelty.

As Nanami silently watches the body burn, the red veins glowing disturbingly before the skin and bone turn to ash, he notes that the form remains perfect and pristine through its destruction. Its blood was uncorrupted. So it had been a noble after all.

Abruptly, a playful chuckle rings through the office and Nanami turns his attention to the source, his brown eyes meeting the inhuman blues of Gojo’s.

The playful hunter smiles.

“Looks like they haven’t all been wiped out.”

Nanami’s brows furrow, the muscles in his shoulders tensing instinctively. The creature truly never stood a chance. No one—human or inhuman—ever saw Gojo coming. They were dead before they even knew they were in danger. In fact, Gojo is so effective at his job that frankly Nanami almost feels sorry for the creatures they hunt. Almost.

“Seems so.”

Gojo’s smile spreads wider across his handsome face. He steps forward, his unmistakable snow white hair illuminated by the glowing lights from the city below. The crunching sound of his boot as he steps over the ash is a perfect allegory for the world at Gojo Satoru’s feet. It truly is only a matter of time before he completely wipes them all out.

“Glad you could make it, Nanamin,” The man teases, his expression gleaming with satisfaction. “Our dusty little friend here told me the most interesting little rumor.”

Nanami’s expression sours, his hands curling into fists as he feels the tension in his body coil tighter. He knows exactly what Gojo’s next words are going to be.

“Another assignment?”

Without a word, Gojo reaches into his pocket and produces a cell phone. Nanami watches, silently annoyed as the man nonchalantly whistles a merry little tune as he opens the phone’s contents. After a few seconds of scrolling, Gojo turns the phone towards Nanami and shows him the target.

A woman. The picture had been snapped at a distance, capturing her in mid stride as she climbed out of the back of a Rolls-Royce Phantom.

Nanami reaches up and zooms in on the picture, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail. Every part of her is in pristine order. Her hair, her clothing, shoes, make-up and nails. Impeccable, immaculate, like a model who had just stepped fresh out of the pages of a magazine.

Everything about her screams untouchable luxury, prestige, and old money. Everything, except her eyes. They are…glassy and distant, as if the soul inside were somewhere else at the moment this picture was taken.

That familiar state of forlorn disconnection, of going through the motions while dissociating from the world around you because that’s the only way you can survive…

A pang of sympathy hits Nanami square in the chest. He understands that feeling all too well.

“A vampire.” The hunter dryly surmises, glancing up at his coworker. “One of the nobles I take it?”

Gojo Satoru’s lips pull back into a spine chilling smile.

“Oh, far more interesting than that.”

The office is plunged into a foreboding silence as Gojo turns the phone in his hand. He types away for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket. Not a moment after, Nanami’s own phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the notification.

Gojo Satoru

Target’s image attached. Have fun Nanamin~ <3

“She’s royal.” (xxx)

21 months later

Groggy, your mind surfaces from the depths of sleep. One by one, you slowly feel your senses returning to you.

The first thing that returns to you is touch. The feeling of the soft, warm fabric of your pillow and sheets forming a pleasant cocoon of warmth around you is one of the best things in the world.

The second sensation is scent. The smell of the cool, crisp morning air tickles the tip of your nose. It’s wet and fresh, meaning that it must have rained sometime in the night.

The third sense that returns is sound. From your open bedroom window, you can hear the traffic and bustle of the city below start to swell, building into that buzzing morning rush crescendo that you’ve become so accustomed to in the last year.

To many, mornings like this are predictable and mundane, but to you it’s a little piece of heaven. This is your home, your space, and your time to yourself. No one else's.

And sure, while there may be some days that may feel lonely, overall you are at peace, and that is invaluable to you.

Living this quiet and mundane little life in this dingy yet cozy little apartment, there’s no one here to tell you what to do. No one to lord themselves over you, or tell you what to think and say. No one to tell you what to wear, who to talk to, and who to shun. No one to sneer at you should you prove a disappointment.

Here, you’re allowed to be your true self. You can finally breathe, grow, and rest.

Rest.

Snuggling deeper into the blankets, you plan to do just that. However, something in the back of your mind compels you to open your eyes. You usually wake up a few minutes before your alarm clock, but it feels a little later than usual doesn’t it?

Heaving a sleepy groan, your eyes flutter open, only to shut so that you can rub away the blurry fuzz that clouds your vision. Once satisfied, your eyes squint open again and focus on the glowing red numbers on your alarm clock. It takes a second, but the moment you’re able to process the numbers 8:43 AM, panic immediately floods your every nerve.

“Oh shit!” You shriek as you jolt awake. “No, no, no, no!”

You’re going to be late on the one day you can’t be late. Oh god, you’re going to get an earful from your boss.

Like a speeding bullet, you make a mad scramble for your bathroom, turning on the hot water taps for both your sink and shower all while cursing yourself out.

God, you can’t believe that you slept past your alarm! This is so unlike you, you’ve never slept through your alarm like that. Well…not on an important work day like today that is. It was so unusual, even if you had been sleeping more heavily, the blaring sound of that heinous clock had always gotten you out of bed on the dot before.

Racking your dozy brain for answers, you fiercely stick your toothpaste coated toothbrush into your mouth and hop under the hot spray of the shower. It isn’t until you’re half way done lathering yourself with soap that it hits you.

You had consumed your last blood pack yesterday morning, and had been so swamped with completing your proposal at work that you had completely forgotten to contact your supplier and restock on your way home last night.

Doing the math in your head, you quickly realize that it has been well over 24 hours since you’d last fed—the longest time you’d gone without blood, and it’s safe to say that your body is already cashing in on the grueling consequences.

Lethargy and brain fog are your main symptoms, but there’s also that gnawing little sensation of hunger that sits at the pit of your stomach. Occasionally, the sensation bloats, crawling up your spine to tease at the base of your brainstem, coyly stimulating that little feral part of your brain.

Luckily, these are all symptoms that you can manage for the time being. You don’t have any time to stop by your supplier before work, so you’ll just have to hold out until the day is done.

The next five minutes are a blur of toweling, styling, moisturizing and make up—all done poorly but done nonetheless. You tie up your wet hair as best as you can before dashing back to your bedroom. It takes only two additional minutes for you to get dressed in your business attire and out the door, and only another three to make it out of your building and into the nearest cab.

“JJK Inc, please!”

The driver nods, and you look down to check your watch only to realize that you’ve forgotten it on your nightstand. Cursing under your breath, you reach into your briefcase and pull out your phone, thankful that you didn’t forget that too. 8:58AM. You have exactly two minutes to get to work and you know that this drive takes at least twelve.

Reaching for your purse, you pull out a couple of the biggest bills you have, and towards the driver’s seat.

“Excuse me mister, I’m in a really big hurry today. Could you please go a little faster than usual? I’ll pay you triple for your trouble.”

The grizzled cab driver makes eye contact with you through his rear view mirror, then his gaze falls to the money in your hand.

“You're bribing me to break the law, ma’am?”

A sheepish little smile spreads across your lips and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. If you had just gotten your ass out of bed at the right time, you wouldn’t even be in this situation.

“Um…well only a little.”

The cab driver snorts and his dry chuckle fills the cabin.

“Unless you’re willing to pay me my year’s salary, we’re getting there in twelve minutes.”

Begrudgingly, you accept that you are now at the complete mercy of the city’s brutal traffic. Your heavy sigh of defeat answers the cab driver well enough, and he turns his attention back to the road while you sag against the back seat.

That’s it, you’re going to be late for the monthly department meeting. The meeting in which you are scheduled to present your financial proposal for the company’s next fiscal year. You’ve been working so hard on it for the last four months. Way to foster a sense of competence and reliability. Instead you are going to show up ten minutes late, looking like you’d just had a run in with an angry grandmother armed with an umbrella.

Your eyes land on the phone in your hand. 8:59 AM. Your mouth instantly becomes dry and your panic flares.

You have to text your boss and let him know that you’ll be late for the meeting. Although, truth be told, you'd much rather jump out of the cab and let the oncoming traffic put you out of your misery.

But despite your shame, you know it’s the right thing to do. Especially since your boss has supported you so diligently throughout the entire year. Staying late nights at the office with you to help crunch data, patiently answering all your questions and never sparing you details that others may think are “over your head”. He never undermines or insults you when you don't understand something and he has proved time and time again to have faith in your competence.

He may be stern and generally unapproachable, but the subtle emotional support Nanami Kento has given since the first day you walked into JJK Inc means the absolute world to you.

And…you can't help but feel completely downtrodden at the very idea of letting him down. You’ve actually come to like him.

A lot.

…

Maybe a little too much, actually.

You heave out another sigh, hands falling limp on your lap.

Just stop being such a coward. Just call him. He’s not going to fire you over something so miniscule, right?

The cab is suddenly filled with an instrumental little jingle, and your phone begins to buzz in your hand. The sound snaps you out of your thoughts, calling your attention to your device. Your heart nearly stops when you see the name flashing on the display.

Mr. Nanami Kento.

Oh shit.

You’re frozen, suspended in momentary panic as you watch those haunting letters light up with each vibration. Should you let it go to voicemail? What’s worse, getting chewed out now or later? After about half a second of contemplation, you realize that letting the call go to voicemail would only serve to land you in the hottest seat in the house.

So with trembling fingers, you swipe right on your green call button and bring the phone to your ear.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Our department meeting has started. Where are you?”

Straight to the point, like always.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you resist the urge to twist the fabric of your pencil skirt between your fingers. It’s not even lunchtime yet and your day has gone terribly so far, like you want to add to it by showing up in wrinkled clothes.

“I’m so sorry sir,” You lick your lips, your tongue like sandpaper. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

A pause of silence on both your ends serves to add kindle to your blazing nerves, but you wait patiently for your boss to respond. After a few more beats of silence, Nanami speaks. His tone is low and soft, like he’s pulling you aside for a private little word in a large gathering of people.

“This is unusual for you. Is everything alright?”

A tingling shiver runs down your spine, the rhythm of your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his low and concerned drawl. God, it should be illegal for someone to sound that good—that sensual.

He’s your boss.

So what if he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen? So what if butterflies swarm and swell in your stomach everytime you think about him? So what if his face is the one on your mind when you slowly glide your fingers between your thighs in the dead of night?

It would never work out between the two of you, despite your fantasies to the contrary. Nanami Kento is a human and you are a vampire. Your life spans are different, your lifestyles are different, and you’d be damned if you dragged a good man like him into the complicated shit storm that is your personal life.

A soft call of your name gently coaxes you to the surface of your thoughts. Nanami pauses again, but his silent urge for you to proceed is palpable. So you close your eyes, inhale a deep breath, and lie.

“I’m alright sir, thank you for your concern. I just mistakenly slept through my alarm, that’s all. I’ll make my way straight up to the boardroom once I arrive.”

Another beat of silence, then a deep, affirmative hum.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

And the call disconnects.

(xxx)

In spite of your tardiness, the department meeting had gone off without a hitch. In fact, upon your arrival you were elated to discover that not only had a seat been left open for you, but sitting on the table right in front of it was a steaming hot cup of coffee and a singular pain au chocolat wrapped delicately in a brown napkin.

You had nearly cried at the sweetness of the gesture, but managed to hold it together as you took your seat. Once situated, you looked at your coworker, Akari Nitta, and mouthed a ‘thank you’. To your shock, Nitta had then responded with an unsubtle shake of her head and then an even more unsubtle glance towards your boss who stood at the head of the table.

Your eyes widened, and impulsively your gaze flew towards Nanami Kento. He paused in the middle of his debrief, a single blonde brow rising at your reaction to his gesture.

Realizing that you were causing a scene, you immediately sunk into your chair and whispered a quiet apology as your face blazed hot. You got out your laptop and focused with all your might on your proposal and its presentation to the department. Fortunately, the presentation went well, garnering you lots of praise from your coworkers, and even a nod of approval from Mr. Nanami himself.

Now you sit at your desk, feeling simultaneously relieved but also like you’re going to jump out of your skin. The stress from the meeting and the presentation of your proposal have long since passed, however in its place another problem has reared its ugly head. It pokes at your every nerve and buries its claws into your sanity itself.

Hungry…

Eyeing the clock every few seconds, you’re desperately willing for it to go faster. Your hunger for blood has grown exponentially since the morning started—so much so that even your coworkers are beginning to look delicious. Especially one man in particular…

It’s okay. Just make it to lunch, then get a rare steak from the restaurant downstairs and that should appease you until the end of the day.

And yet as each agonizing second ticks by, your hunger only grows and grows, and it’s not long before you start to feel weak and a little bit dizzy.

If you aren’t careful, it won’t take much to trigger a nip at someone’s neck. And given the sexual (and unfortunately sometimes violent) connotations of the act of feeding, you’d really like to avoid that if at all possible. You never want to be in one of those unfortunate situations where a vampire has denied their hunger for too long and sadly ended up attacking a human.

Luckily, you aren’t in dire straits yet as the process of descending into that blood lust-fueled madness takes several days. Still, that doesn’t mean that you’re comfortable and willing to suffer the side effects.

Your eyes once again look at the clock on your laptop’s screen. 11:46AM. Close enough.

Quietly, you put your computer to sleep and stretch, groaning with pleasure under your breath as your tight muscles tense and then relax.

In a few quick movements, you collect your coat and purse and start to make your way down the hall of cubicles. Once you reach the cubicles of your friends, Nitta and Ijichi, you poke your head in and whisper.

“I’m heading out for lunch, I’ll be back in an hour.”

Ijichi raises an eyebrow, and both he and Nitta exchange a quizzical glance.

“What?” You ask.

“Did you forget? Mr. Nanami is going to take us all out for lunch today.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“He…he is?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Nitta sighs, tossing the document in her hands onto her desk. “Mr. Nanami announced it at the end of our meeting this morning. He said that he wants to treat us to lunch for all of our hard work. Well, all of your hard work.”

“Ours,” You correct firmly. “I wouldn’t have managed it without everyone’s help.”

“Oh, so modest.” Nitta teases. “No wonder you’re Mr. Nanami’s favorite.”

You roll your eyes. Seriously? Of all the days to—

“I’m not his favorite. Mr. Nanami acknowledges anyone who's done a good job.”

Nitta and Ijichi exchange knowing glances with one another before turning their attention back to you.

“Sure.” They reply in unison, waving your words away like smoke.

Irritated, you decide to end the conversation and continue to make your way down the hall of cubicles and towards the elevator.

“Hey!” You hear Nitta call. “What about lunch? Aren’t you going to join us?”

Not if you can help it. You want to eat lunch alone since being known as the office lady who enjoys eating borderline raw meat isn’t exactly the reputation you’d like to garner for yourself. Plus, having a moment away from the office to clear your head will do you good.

“Are you declining to join us for lunch?”

Your body jolts at the sound of that familiar, deep voice. Turning around, of course you see none other than Nanami Kento standing a few steps away from you. He approaches you, the differences in your height becoming alarmingly apparent as gets closer.

And despite the fact that you’ve seen hundreds of handsome men come and go throughout your multiple lifespans, for the briefest of moments you can’t help but feel a little awestruck.

Nanami is so tall compared to you—not to mention built like a bulldozer. Armed with his steely demeanor, freshly pressed suit, polished shoes, perfectly styled hair and the smell of that aftershave that is to die for, you can say with full confidence that there are few men who can hold a candle to Nanami Kento.

Nanami’s presence has always been nothing short of imposing. No matter which corporate hot shot from the other departments stormed into his office, he would always put them back in their place. In fact, it’s a common sight to watch them scurry down the hidden path of shame between the cubicles, their tail between their legs after they had a meeting with your boss.

“Well?” The soft, honey brown color of Nanami’s eyes does little to counteract the sternness of his expression. He leans in closer, covering you in his shadow. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin as you stifle the lascivious tremor that courses through you.

“Do you have some other previous engagement that you neglected to share?”

As you lock your gaze with Nanami’s, you suffer the briefest moment of weakness.

You wish you could confide in him who you really are and what you’re going through. You’d give anything to have just one person know the real you. Not the confined and sheltered vampire you used to be, nor the workaholic vampire pretending to be human. Just you. And maybe someone like Nanami would be able to handle it, but you can’t take that risk.

“Um…no. I’m not declining.” You reply. “I’m just uh–really hungry.”

Nanami studies you silently for a moment. The weight of his gaze, taxing and on your already frazzled nerves. He sees more than what he lets on, you’re sure of it. But right as you’re about to squirm under his scrutiny he breaks his stare, then checks his watch before turning towards Nitta and Ijichi.

“Since your colleague seems to be eager to go, let’s make it an early lunch today. I’ll meet you all at the restaurant in ten minutes.”

Then, the three of you silently watch him as he disappears into his office.

Following Nanami’s orders, you wait for Nitta and Ijichi as they pack up and then join you in the journey to the elevator. You are absolutely exhausted, but Nitta looks totally ecstatic. Ijichi, as per usual,follows behind in silence.

“Lunch on the boss!” Nitta exclaims. “That means we can get anything we want, right?”

“I don’t think that’s very good manners, Miss Nitta.” Ijichi advises as he hits the call button. “Mr. Nanami is already being generous enough as it is.”

“Awww,” Nitta pouts. “You’re no fun, Ijichi.”

Nitta looks at you, her friendly smile widening.

“What do you think? We should indulge ourselves today, don’t you think?”

You shake your head.

“I think Ijichi is right, we shouldn’t take advantage of him. Even if he can afford it.”

Nitta scrunches her nose and crosses her arms with a half-hearted huff.

“Oh all right. It was mostly a joke anyway.”

(xxx)

The sky has long since darkened, the only thing illuminating the horizon now is the glowing moon and pink and blue neon lights from the city.

You had said goodbye to your coworkers as they trickled out of the office hours ago, wishing that you could have joined them. But your proposal needs finalizing and Nanami’s final seal of approval before you can call it a day. He gave you until 10:00PM tonight to finish it.

A tired groan escapes your lips as you focus on easing the tension in your shoulders. You give your eyes a break from staring at the screen as you reach your arms up for a good stretch. As you move, you glance at the empty cubicles around you. Admittedly, it’s strange and a little spooky being the only one in the office at night, but luckily you aren’t alone. Nanami is holed up in his office at the end of the hall and he has made it clear that you are welcome to come and find him if you need anything.

Letting your arms fall back down after that long stretch, you reach for the steaming mug sitting by your computer and bring it to your lips for a sip. The remainder of the tension in your body eases as the comforting scent of peppermint wafts up your nose.

It’s so liberating being out on your own and away from the pressures of your family. While you hold no hatred in your heart for them, being at the mercy of their tyrannical sheltering in combination with all the stifling traditions, gaslighting, and the social pressure that came with being a member of the royal family, was a torture that you are grateful to no longer endure.

In that place, you were nothing more than an ornament— a possession. All you amounted to in their eyes was something pretty to perch on a pedestal and look at. Back there you had no right to your own words, or thoughts, or feelings, or even to your own body.

Then that one fateful night the incident occurred and you finally reached your breaking point. You ran away, smuggling yourself out of your family’s compound and into the big, wide outside world you’ve only ever seen from a distance.

Admittedly, it had been very difficult in the beginning since your sheltered past had left you with little survival skills, but thanks to the friendships you had developed and the stability offered by your work, you found yourself thriving within half a year’s time.

Gazing out of one of the office windows, you admire the beautiful glowing moon. The callous words of the people you once called “family” resurface in your mind.

“The world is dangerous. Those humans and the other vampires are savages. They’ll eat us alive.”

“Careful. Don’t want to misbehave now do we? It would be terrible if the hunters got a whisper of your whereabouts.”

“There’s no way someone like you could survive on their own.”

They couldn’t have been more wrong. And you’re so proud of yourself for being able to prove that each and every day. You were born a royal to the vampire world and a monster to the human one, but you are the master of your own mind, body and soul. No one has the right to tell you who you are.

A sudden growling sound interrupts your contemplation. Startled, you look down as your stomach tightens and twists painfully, immediately alerting you to the culprit.

The hunger is creeping back with a vengeance. The time you bought is running out.

Luckily, the lunch you’d ordered did the trick in satiating your appetite throughout the afternoon.

Unfortunately though, you now have to carry the lifelong joy of replaying the scene of your very confused and concerned coworkers asking you if you were okay after you had ordered an “exceptionally rare” blue steak with a straight face.

God, the complete silence that had fallen over the table as the waiter brought out the practically bleeding slab of meat and placed it in front of you had been mortifying. It ended up stalling your appetite and—you imagined—the appetites of your coworkers.

As the silence persisted, you remember practically feeling the secret glances your colleagues sent towards you and to one another. Your cheeks had grown hot, and your mouth as dry as a desert as both embarrassment and anxiety sat heavy in the pit of your stomach. Flustered, you felt compelled to apologize and make up some kind of excuse.

“Sorry. I ah…grew up on a beef farm and it wasn’t unusual for us to eat meat like this.”

But then, your boss speaks up and effectively breaks the tense atmosphere with a single statement.

“There is no need for you to apologize or explain your preferences.”

And that had been the end of it.

Gently placing your mug of tea back down, you make quick work of replacing your smudged lipstick before leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. Of course, the first and only thing your fevered mind conjures is him.

You wish that your thoughts could stay in the realm of innocent admiration, but as your hunger grows and your brain juggles the phenomenon that is Nanami Kento, all your thoughts go straight to the gutter. A sweet lick of heat pulses between your legs and you clench your thighs, groaning quietly in your attempts to stifle it.

You want Nanami Kento. You’ve always wanted him. You have tried so hard to keep your feelings and lewd fantasies under control, but like opening Pandora’s box, your hunger has revealed the truth of your longing.

The way that man sternly commands a room. How he simultaneously supports and takes responsibility for those around him, how caring he can be despite the subtlety of his emotions. All of these are the qualities that have drawn you to him.

But that being said, Nanami’s physical qualities are nothing to scoff at either. The way that man rolls up his sleeves while he’s hard at work, or how his strong brows furrow when he’s faced with a particularly complex situation. The large breadth of his hands and shoulders, the smell of his aftershave and skin, how unbelievably mouth-watering he looks in those form fitting dress shirts with that perfect blonde hair just slightly tousled…

The roar of your hunger intensifies, and you can feel your fangs throb and start to emerge.

Oh no.

You inhale deeply, fingers digging into the seat of your chair. You lick your teeth in a foolhardy attempt to help yourself settle down. But the fire in your body sparks and burns brighter, your lust for blood and a certain CFO flaring with a vengeance. Your body is punishing you for daring to distract it with some cheap imitation, especially when the person that you truly want to sink your teeth into is just down the hall.

Ignoring the dampness between your legs, you take a series of long deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself. Then, once you manage to get that burning lust to taper, you exhale a sigh, place your fingers on the keyboard, and force yourself to ignore their trembling.

You are going to finalize this proposal.

You are going to email it to your boss.

You are going to review it with him and finally put this project to rest.

Then you are going to climb into his lap and wrap your arms around him before latching onto that delicious notch between his neck and shoulder and…

Stop it.

You give your head a furious shake and force yourself to focus on the numbers on the screen. You are going to be done by 10:00 PM, come heaven or high water.

True to your promise to yourself, you work furiously into the night, but by 9:40 PM your blood withdrawal symptoms return with full force. The trembling in your hands has spread to the rest of your body making it significantly harder for you to focus. You're starting to sweat down your back and between your breasts and your heart’s rhythm quickens as the sweet ache in your sex only grows.

Intrusive flashes of your lewd, late night fantasies of Nanami play in your mind on repeat and the feeling of your elongating teeth scratching against your lower lip makes your actions all the hastier.

Almost there…

Through sheer force of will, you finish the last portion of your proposal ten minutes before your personal deadline. Breathing a sigh of relief, you quickly send Nanami an email, letting him know that it’s ready and that you’ll make your way to his office to discuss it. Only one nail biting minute goes by before he sends his reply.

“I have time now.”

You’ve never been more thankful for Nanami’s punctuality and curtness. Closing your laptop, you stand up and immediately your body sways. You grab the desk, steadying yourself as you’re suddenly demobilized by the onset of a pounding headache that swallows all sound and blurs your vision.

Shit, you’re going to pass out.

Tightening your grip, you try to focus on your breathing.

It’s okay. You’re okay. Just go in there and finish this. Then you can contact your supplier, go home and pass out.

You hold on to your desk for dear life and wait for your hearing and vision to return. Once they do, you thank all your lucky stars.

Knowing you don’t have a lot of time left, you grab your laptop and immediately make your way towards Nanami’s office. Your knees tremble with each step you take and you grip your laptop close to your chest for fear of dropping it.

Almost done. Just a little more.

You knock once you reach Nanami’s office.

“Come in.”

Clenching your hand around the doorknob, you take a deep breath to help steady yourself before opening the door and stepping inside.

The office is warm, almost cozy with its dimly lit atmosphere. With the exception of a singular lamp that sits on the far left of his desk, Nanami’s computer screen is the only other source of illumination in the room.

Nanami’s office is quite tasteful, with the exception of a few decorative items it’s filled with only the essentials that the man needs to do his job. Nanami himself sits at his desk, his brows furrowed as he pours over the documents on his desk.

Despite your sorry state, you can’t help but steal another moment to admire him.

God, he really is breathtaking, the dim light betraying you by slyly highlighting his best features. Combed blonde hair that beckons your fingertips, rolled up sleeves revealing the powerful, veiny arms beneath, his sharp brown eyes that never miss a detail, and those strong and chiseled features of his, Nanami makes you weak in the knees every time.

Standing silently at the door’s threshold, you wait for Nanami’s tired eyes to look up. Once his gaze meets yours, he exhales a heavy sigh. Your tongue swipes along the throbbing tips of your fangs as you watch him lean back in his hair, all raw masculinity and tempered power as he removes his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“Let’s have a look at it then.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you make your way deeper into his office, fingers clenching around your laptop as you pray for your legs not to give out.

The moment you reach Nanami’s desk, his warm and tantalizing scent hits you like a freight train. You can practically feel the steady beat of his heart on your tongue. The painfully throbbing ache in your fangs increases as your vision blurs again for another brief second.

Calling upon the strength of your willpower once more, you manage to suppress the raging hunger inside you for just a little longer. Your lips press into a thin worried line and without a word, you place your laptop on Nanami’s desk, turn it to face him, and open it to show him your finalized proposal.

But Nanami’s attention is focused squarely on you. Those brown eyes of his feel like they are slowly taking you apart and then putting you back together again. Maddeningly. Piece by piece.

You’re on the verge of screaming, or bolting out of his office by the time your boss glances at the screen you’d presented to him.

The wait is torture. You have to resist the urge to chew your lip, hiding your trembling fingers behind your back in a desperate attempt to conceal your distress. It feels like an eternity before Nanami’s attention finally returns to you. He pins you again with that intense stare of his, holding you captive like a wriggling insect caught in a spider’s web.

Then, Nanami breaks the silence and you are surprised to see both that intense stare and the harshness of his tone soften.

“You’re unwell.”

A statement, not a question. Nanami’s words are enough to freeze the words in your throat. He saw right through you. Of course, he did.

Desperately trying to save face, you scramble for the words to deflect Nanami’s astute observation.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Wow. Phenomenal.

Nanami sighs, his heavy hand reaching up to gently close your laptop. Your eyes linger for a second too long on his thick fingers before your body stiffens at the thought of being caught.

The sound of a chair sliding against the floor makes your heart jump. Your breath stalls as Nanami stands up from his seat and circles the desk towards you. He stops his advance when your bodies are only mere inches apart.

Then he leans down and whispers,

“Don’t lie to me.”

Instantly, your senses come alive. You feel your fangs extend fully in your mouth as your eyes latch hungrily onto Nanami’s throat. His intoxicating scent, the thick muscle of his body, and the pulsing veins beneath his skin all have your mouth practically watering.

“You’re unwell.” Nanami continues. “In fact, you’ve been unwell since yesterday.”

Nanami hit the nail on the head. There’s no point in keeping secrets anymore. Twisting your fingers behind your back, you have no choice but to answer him.

“I uh—”

You pause and study Nanami’s expression.

He’s patiently waiting, his gaze unwavering from yours. It’s firm and solid, but beneath that stoic professionalism you can see a flicker of warmth and understanding. And even though you are currently in the hot seat—panicked and on the edge of being exposed—you also feel strangely at ease.

“I’m anemic so uh…just feeling a little faint. It runs in my family.”

Nanami’s expression shifts into one of undisguised doubt.

“Anemia. That’s what’s left you in this state?”

You slowly nod. Your tongue darts out in an attempt to moisten your lips before carrying on with your explanation.

“It’s not that bad, really. I’m just tired and a little dizzy. I’ll be able to finish up this proposal and then I’ll go h—.”

And then in an ultimate gesture of betrayal, your body starts to sway again. Your pounding head begins to feel light, sounds disappearing once more as your vision blurs and then goes completely black.

Fortunately, in the midst of all this you still have enough of your wits to make a grab for Nanami’s desk and steady yourself.

Unfortunately however, you end up missing the desk entirely and instead are sent plummeting into the awaiting arms of gravity. Or at least, you would have been, had Nanami Kento not used his own arms to scoop you up and keep you from falling.

The feeling of Nanami’s arms around you is enough to bring you back. Your vision returns and your entire body freezes as alarm bells go off in your head. You’re reaching your limit.

The heat of Nanami’s body radiates through yours, turning the blaze inside you into a raging inferno and reigniting the sweet ache in your core. Your fangs throb and your sex pulses as your arousal pools in that private little space between your thighs.

God, you want him. You want to taste him and fuck him so badly you feel like you’re going to go insane.

“You’re not fine,” Nanami’s tone is low, almost sensual. “You’re on the verge of passing out.”

“N–no, I’m—”

Nanami cradles you closer, shouldering the entirety of your body weight as he holds you steady against him. He guides your body towards his desk, leveraging you against it before securely wrapping his grip around your waist. Your head falls on his shoulder. Exhausted, you surrender everything.

“I–I’m sorry.” You whisper, fingers tightening around his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself against the rabid haze that’s taking over every last lick of sense you possess.

Fuck, he smells so good.

Then without a word of warning, Nanami abruptly picks you up and sits you on his desk. Your pencil skirt naturally rides up your thighs as he slots himself between your knees.

The next words that fall from Nanami Kento’s lips change your life forever.

“Eat me.”

Both your heart and breath stop for what feels like an eternity. Your eyes widen as your mind struggles to process the meaning of Nanami’s words. Eat him? What does he mean by that? Surely he can’t be talking about…

“W-what?”

Nanami leans in closer.

“You need blood and I have an abundant supply.”

Panic, hot and sharp, stabs right through your chest.

Holy shit. He knows.

You had taken so many painstaking precautions to conceal your true identity and had done everything in your power to make sure that your secret was kept safe. How did Nanami Kento discover it? Had you slipped up at some point? Or had you been outed by a member of your family?

The venomous words of your father, the ones that he always used to threaten you with, ring like a gong in your head.

“Careful. Don’t want to misbehave now do we? It would be terrible if the hunters got a whisper of your whereabouts.”

It all snaps into place.

Breathless and freshly teary eyed, you look up at your boss.

“You’re a hunter.”

Nanami’s jaw clenches, hard bone grinding beneath tight skin. Then finally, he nods.

“I am.”

You do your best to try and make a break for it, wriggling to the best of your ability out of Nanami’s hold. But the man’s grip is like iron and your body is too weak. All you manage to do in the midst of your trepidation is dishevel your clothing and bring your body closer to his.

Nanami silently holds you captive, his expression betraying nothing as he watches the rebellious little fire inside you snuff out, surrendering to the merciless gale of your starved exhaustion.

Only when your body stills does he speak again.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you. I will never harm you.”

Frustrated and distraught tears roll down your cheeks, your fingers grip and twist the pristinely pressed dress shirt covering Nanami’s chest. More lies. For once in your life won’t someone just tell you the truth?

“Stop lying to me. You’re a hunter. Killing vampires is what you hunters do, right?”

Nanami pauses, his lips thinning as he contemplates his answer.

“Yes.” He finally admits.

Your heart sinks, despair tightening your chest as the realization dawns on you that perhaps all the kindness and support that Nanami had shown you throughout your time at JJK Inc had been part of an elaborate ruse. Easing you into some false sense of security before finding the perfect moment to take you out.

And as you look at him, tightly cradled in his grasp and unable to escape, you wish that you could be anywhere else right now.

“If you’re going to kill me just do it already.”

A tired sigh falls from your boss's lips, his left hand coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose. You follow the motion, gaze lingering on the plains of his handsome face. The bags under his eyes are a bit more prominent than usual.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Right,” You sniff, voice frail and taunt as you fight back against your tears. Nanami Kento is the last person on earth you want to see you cry.

“So said everyone else.”

The weight of Nanami’s grip leaves your side, and when you feel both of his hands gently cup the sides of your face, you practically melt. Nanami’s hands are warm and comforting and they soothe away your fear and despair. He regards you gently, smoothing his thumbs along the soft edge of your cheekbones—wiping away your tears.

“I’m not just anyone.”

Nanami releases you and you watch, spellbound, as his fingers reach for that signature leopard print tie. Your eyes widen and your heart pounds, the beat roaring in your ears as he loosens the flimsy article of clothing with a single elegant movement.

“Now,” His words are stern, deep. Undeniable in their finality.

“Eat.”

As Nanami loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt, your eyes immediately land on the thick column of his throat.

“You—” Another swallow as the saliva in your mouth begins to flow and pool. “You don’t know what you’re offering…”

“I know perfectly well what I’m offering. Take it.”

Your body grows hot to the touch—near feverish as your arousal reignites. Your grip tightens, grasping at his shirt as you desperately resist the animalistic urge to just sink your teeth into Nanami’s thick flesh without a drop of restraint.

“Mr. Nanami…”

His hand reaches up again and he cups your chin, thumb gently tracing along your slack bottom lip, smudging the lipstick you’d replaced just an hour before. You shudder as his thumb precariously brushes against one of your exposed fangs.

“I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never drank blood from another person before.” You confess in a hushed whisper. “The rules around feeding where I come from are very strict and the act itself can be very…intimate.”

Nanami’s hand glides to the back of your head then down to your neck. His touch is electric–addicting–like a hit of pure ecstasy.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me.”

You shyly lick your teeth and avert your gaze to the glowing doorway. You’re stalling and he knows it.

Nanami leans down, the feeling of his warm breath caressing the side of your face as you teeter on the edge of unchained desire.

“Go ahead.” Nanami coaxes. “Eat.”

And with no more words, you arch your body upwards, open your mouth, and then sink your teeth into your boss’ neck. Nanami grunts, and the moment his blood touches your tongue every inch of you sings.

Nanami’s taste is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s rich and warm, powerful and potent. Like a spiced wine only served to those with the most expensive palates. And as his blood flows your mouth it invigorates you with a heat that is as searing and as all consuming as that of the sun.

A lewd moan bubbles in your throat as you instinctively draw him closer, lips latching and sucking hungrily against his neck. Nanami responds with a moan of his own as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and pressing the entirety of your body against his.

You cradle him between your soft thighs, hands reaching under his arms and around to his back so that your fingers can dig into the delicious muscle they find there.

Nanami’s heart pounds against your tongue, feeding you all the more as you deliberately press the swell of your breasts against him. The sweet softness of your panty covered pussy is next, and you’re so love drunk, so caught up in the moment that you don’t even think twice about rubbing yourself against the growing tent in his pants.

Nanami's deep groan in response to your actions makes your pussy clench. He leans forward, pushing you down until your back hits the polished mahogany desk he’d perched you on. His heavy hands slam against the wood as he climbs on top, steadying himself against the shuddering waves of bliss that tear through him.

Perhaps you’re taking a little too much…

With a pleased sigh, you release Nanami’s throat, kissing the little red wounds you’d left there before trying to pull away. But Nanami’s hand slips under your head, cupping the back of it and ushering you back to that bite mark.

“Keep going,” His voice is low and raw, rumbling like a thunderstorm on the horizon, on the verge of losing his restraint.

“Don’t stop until you’re full, darling.”

That sweet and genuine term of affection nearly knocks the air out of your lungs, and you can’t help but whimper wantingly. You’ve never wanted anyone like this before.

Staring into his eyes, your hands wrap around Nanami’s body again. Your fingers sink back into their rightful place along the muscles of his back before you tilt your mouth back up towards his neck.

Then, greedily, you sink your teeth back into Nanami’s flesh.

“That’s it.” He praises, lips pressing comfortingly against your temple. “Good girl. Take what you need.”

An intoxicating cocktail of love and lust roars inside of you, intensifying with each swallow. You’ve had your fair share of selfish lovers and cold sheets, but never anything like this…never something so hot and wild and that felt so fucking right.

Another wave of intoxicating ardor sizzles along your skin and your body responds by arching against him, rubbing yourself lewdly against his hard cock.

Nanami growls, the deep sound curling your toes as the hands he had rested by your head curl tightly into fists.

“Touch me.” You plead, licking a wicked stipe up his throat.

Cursing under his breath, Nanami pushes your skirt up to your waist, exposing your soaked cotton panties. His hands find your hips, tightening in a vice grip as he angles you just right before beginning to rut his clothed length against your pussy.

You lick the bruised bite mark on Nanami’s neck in apology before laying back down on the desk, arching and moaning as you’re overcome by the hot friction between your bodies.

You’re dizzy, blissed out and utterly intoxicated as you grind your sex against his. The hurried rustle of fabric and the stifled moans from both of your lips rises like the sweetest music.

Nanami’s eyes meet yours, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands travel up your waist. Abruptly, he pulls you down, forcing your sensitive pussy harder against his throbbing cock. You can practically feel him pulse between your folds.

Crying out, you grasp onto Nanami as he hikes up your leg over his shoulder, exposing you further before surrendering the weight of his massive body onto your smaller one. Pinning you deliciously on that desk and grinding against you with animalistic fervor, he makes you feel breathless and trapped, but oh so far from helpless.

“M–Mr. Nanami…p-please, don’t stop.”

“Not until you come,” Nanami promises, licking his bottom lip before popping his thumb into your wet mouth.

Moaning, you instinctively bite into the fleshy pad. When you catch a glimpse of Nanami’s jaw clenching, his eyes glued to the seductive glimmer of your fangs biting deliciously into his flesh, you nearly come then and there.

“Harder,” Nanami commands, snapping his hips against you and hitting your swollen clit with the head of his cock just right.

Mewling with pleasure, you sink your fangs into his thumb and Nanami shudders. The pleasured purr that leaves him is one of the most erotic things you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Good girl.”

He thrusts against you harder now and your combined moans harmonize as the two of you lose yourselves. The hot coil in your stomach tightens as you roll your hips, grinding against Nanami desperately while spreading your legs wider to accommodate his size.

“Suck,” Nanami groans. “Suck on me as you come.”

Eagerly, you suck his thumb into your mouth, eyes drooping with euphoria as the taste of his blood couples with the force of your oncoming orgasm.

“N–Nanami,” You whimper sloppily–pathetically—around his finger, drool falling from the side of your mouth.

“C–coming–I’m going to come—ah!!!”

Nanami pulls his thumb from your mouth, but not before gliding it along your lipstick smudged lips and coating them in his flavour.

Thrusting his hips against you one last time, he leans down and claims your mouth with his, swallowing your scream of ecstasy as you come in his arms.

“That’s it,” Nanami coos, the pleasured hum in his throat lulling you in tandem with the tender little kisses he presses to your lips “Hold onto me, baby.”

And you do, for dear life, until the last pulse of your pleasure fades and you’re left a completely exhausted mess on Nanami Kento’s desk.

The two of you stare at one another in that dim light, chests heaving and cheeks burning. Wondering if he came too, you look down at Nanami’s beige slacks. You almost die of embarrassment when you realize how drenched you’d made them.

“Did you come?” You ask him.

Nanami’s low, rumbling chuckle is your answer.

You’re about to protest and are ready to offer your body so that he can have his pleasure too, but Nanami halts your words by pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever been gifted.

“Next time, darling.”

dividers by @/saradika

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jellywrites

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everythingne · 6 months

Text

christmas in monaco - cl16

You are Charles Leclerc’s best kept secret. Twin of his best friend, a racing prodigy, and his secret girlfriend of two years. The first six months had been secret, just to make sure you’d actually survive a relationship, but then Max said something to Charles that made the idea of ever telling him impossible. So you end up here, half in your brothers apartment half in your soon to be fiancés, trying to celebrate two Christmases in one day.

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

warnings/notes: cursing, jos is there for a bit in the beginning, poorly translated dutch and french, danny is in red bull bc i said so

next chapter..

Warm. That was the best way you could explain the way the bed felt as hot breaths fanned across your chest from the head tucked against your neck. One arm draped across your waist, pulling you closer as you stir and reach up to turn off your phone's alarm. The second arm sleepily comes to wrap around your chest, dragging you back into the warmth of your two year secret.

"No," Charles sighs, eyes still closed as kisses are peppered along your neck and jaw, "Don't go..."

"I have to, Char." You murmur, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you sit up and look at your still very sleepy boyfriend who blinks wearily at you and the sun that halos you, "We don't need Max getting suspicious as to why I'm never home."

"I wish we could tell him." Charles sits up next to you, a hand coming up to fix some loose hairs that were sticking up at odd angles against your head. You didn't answer, just humming. A year and a half ago, during the summer break, you and Charles planned on telling Max. He and Charles got along like a house on fire, there was really no reason you wouldn't have been able to tell your brother about your little blooming relationship.

And then Max had said something to you and Charles, moments before you had planned to tell him, about how you were strictly forbidden from dating any Formula racers. For no specific reason. You had played it off like a joke that night, but once you'd returned to Charles apartment a few nights later you realized just how much your brothers words had affected the both of you.

So, you agreed that night it was (questionably) better to keep it secret.

But Charles and Max knew each other like the backs of their hands. They had been destined from the start to be together, even back in the days of them literally hating each other on the track. You had tagged along with your brother, never driving because of your fathers beliefs, before moving away to live with your mother around the age of fifteen. You and Charles had only reconnected when he debuted in F1, and instantly clicked, even before he and Max did.

Somehow through the busyness of your brothers seasons, he had been distracted long enough for him to not catch on. It was even better when you had moved in with him in Monaco and established a good, core friend group you used as your excuse most times. All of them knew if Max called and asked, to say you guys were together last night since you told them every time you went to go see Charles. It felt foolproof.

“You really have to go?” Charles whines, sitting up finally and stretching his shoulder out, “You can’t stay for breakfast or anything?”

Humming out a maybe as you check the time, you roll to your side and then curse, giving Charles a quick peck on the lips before shoving him off of you and down onto the bed. He crashes amongst the blankets and such tangled together from the way you both toss and turn, nearly whacking his head on the headboard as you scamper to your feet and the cool breeze through the window makes goosebumps run along your skin. Leaning down, you grab your jean shorts off the floor and a hoodie you think is one of Charles' old ones you'd been wearing around.

“Ow?!” his voice echoes behind you and you throw a sorry over your shoulder, scrambling to find your bag and other items in his apartment. Half of your life was here, so you were able to find a spare pair of your socks in his drawer.

Getting to his feet, Charles grabs his shirt from the floor and tugs it over his head as he asks, “What is happening?"

“My dad is visiting today and I forgot I had to leave early!" You curse, jumping to slip on one of your sneakers and bending to fix the parts of the shoe that fold under your heel, "Fuck fuck fuck—!”

"Jos?" He inquires, pausing mid movement to scrunch his face at you. As far as Charles was aware, you and Max had some sort of huge blow up fight with your father and now you both no longer spoke to him.

"No, Charlie, my secret second father." You deadpan, turning around as you toss your bag over one shoulder, "Yes, Jos! Who else?!"

"Sorry!" He apologizes and comes besides you to give you a kiss to your hairline as he wipes a bit of fallen makeup off your cheek, "I thought he wasn't visiting this year?"

You know he means to say, I thought you and Max emancipated from him.

"I thought the same." You huff as you step back from his grasp to find your car keys on the bedside table.

He knows you mean to say, Max can't say no to him. It's a problem.

Charles just hums in response, and when you throw your purse over his shoulder and capture his lips in a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out of his apartment, a small smile peeks across his lips. Soles squeaking in the dew covered grass, you make your way to your parked car. Searching the streets as you walk and dipping between two cars when a guy who slightly looks like he could be Max passes, and then you continue down the road.

Monaco was small. It was a little country, beautiful and bursting at the seams with life, but still so small. So, seeing Max, especially if you were out and about, was likely. Every precaution was taken, and luckily your best friend Jolie lived in the apartment building next to Charles', so you could just park your car there to not raise suspicions.

Getting in your car you slam the door, cursing when you see the missed calls and messages from Max.

And... Daniel?

"I'm back!" You shout, shutting the front door and taking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack as you walk in. There's a tense feeling in the apartment and you set your backpack on the ground as Jos smiles.

"Ah, Y/n, how are you?" He says and you cross the room to give your father a quick hug.

"Fine fine, I slept in on accident, otherwise I would've gone with Max to get you at the airport." You sit on the couch next to Max, who's jaw is locked tighter than you've seen it before. The two of you share a look of 'why is this guy here' before your father waves off your words.

"It's fine, how's the degree going?"

"Good good, I'm working on finishing up my degree in Sports Management right now. Charles has been trying to set me up with an internship for Ferrari since Red Bull filled their internships for the season already." You cross one leg over the other and your father nods. Luckily your able to hold civil conversation with him until he takes a rideshare back to the airport. You and Max groan, flopping down on the couches as soon as he's gone and you bury your head in your hands. A typical Verstappen household afternoon.

It's fucking hot in Abu Dhabi. Though not as bad as Qatar, you're still sweating through your thin sundress. Wandering into Red Bull's paddock you're greeted by your brother, and then quite literally--and not anyway discreetly, escorted to the drivers room by none other than Daniel Ricciardo who claims he has a sports management question for you.

You know it's not about sports management when he locks the door to the drivers room and turns to you with eyes wide, mouth open in some sort of half grin half shocked expression.

"Charles fucking Leclerc?!" He hisses when you make a vague motion for him to explain and a groan leaves your throat involuntarily. You had been so safe for two years and of course it's Daniel of all people who figures it out. The only other guy who your brother trusts with his life.

"Danny you can't say anything, also why were you even in Monaco?" You snap back, poking Daniel in his throat right above his Red Bull logo on the collar of the fireproofs, your nail digging into the skin there.

"I was stopping by for media stuff," He puts his hands up, stepping back from you, "and how about you answer my question about Charles?"

"I was just--there?" You try and Daniel crosses his arms and looks at you with the most incredulous look in his eyes, head cocked and everything as he laughs.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Well, I--augh, okay," You groan, sitting on the back of the couch in the drivers room, "this isn't exactly easy to say. I'm kinda not trying to tell my brother about this?"

"Woah woah, Max doesn't know?" If Daniel could look more shocked at this point, he does.

"No and he can't know because he'd kill Charles." Your voice is small, frustratedly bringing heat to your cheeks. Other than your small group of friends from Monaco, and some from back home, you hadn't told anyone about this yet, "Do you promise you won't say anything?"

"I can pretend I saw nothing if that will make you feel better?" Daniel offers and you shake your head curling your hand around the edge of the dress you wear.

"Charles and I..." You huff, crossing your ankles, "have been dating for... two years now? I practically live at his apartment in Monaco when I'm not with Max and Kelly. And Max, apparently, doesn't want me dating any drivers so we... can't exactly... tell Max."

"Two and a half years? You've kept this a secret for two and half years and I'm the one who figured it out?" Daniel scoffs, "Honestly, Y/n, I'm impressed."

"Thanks? But I... I don't know what to do, Danny! We wanna tell Max so bad, but if I do I risk ruining everything!" You bury your head in your hands, groaning, "I can't lose Charles, but I can't lose Max either."

"Do you really think Max was serious about that rule?" Daniel asks, sitting next to you, "Because you're a fully grown adult, so like... how much control does he really have over who you date?"

"Well, I am viewed as an extension of my brother so therefore he gets a bit of a say. And if people find out the baby sister of Max Verstappen is dating Charles Leclerc?"

"Point taken." Daniel hums, "Media nightmare."

"Yep." You stand, pacing the room as you talk with your hands, something you'd picked up from Charles at some point, "there have been a thousand times I've wanted to say something! Thousands! Everytime the two of them are together, I can't ever imagine Max being upset about it. But then I get that little gnawing feeling in my gut. I just... can't do it. Because... if I do, and it ends in disaster, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

"And if it doesn't end in disaster?" Daniel inquires after you pause. You turn slowly to face him, watching as he tilts his head to further push his question. You've dreamed of it. Finally being able to tell Max everything about it, Charles had made it clear to you he was itching to tell his practical best friend too, and it would clear the main argument you and Charles had.

You laugh, "I'd be the happiest person alive."

y/nverstappen made a new post !

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 238k others...

y/nverstappen: mon nounours <3 j'adore les fêtes

maxverstappen: who?????

⤷ maxverstappen: also when the fuck did you learn french?

⤷ y/nverstappen: i have a tutor or two

user1: omg baby verstappen has a boy???

danielricciardo: 'i can't say anything' and yet u CAN post that. ITS NOT EVEN SNEAKY??

⤷ y/nverstappen: a moment of weakness i admit. ALSO YES THE FUCK IT IS DANIEL

⤷ user2: danny tell us what u know

charlesleclerc: babys first rolex?

⤷ y/nverstappen: im too afraid to wear it !! i dont want it to break or get lost or stolen 😵‍💫

lewishamilton: rolex + bracelet combo perfection

user3: i need to know who shes dating.

charlesleclerc made a new post!

liked by y/nverstappen, arthurleclerc, danielricciardo, and 289k more...

charlesleclerc: deux ans de toi, mon étoile. pour toujours.

maxverstapen: two years?? and I don't know her???

⤷ charlesleclerc: look i can keep a secret, surprisingly.

danielricciardo: good man

user1: CHARLES SOFT LAUNCH???

arthurleclerc: oh so you left out the part where you've been dating her FOR TWO YEARS??? CHARLES???

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops !

user4: 'two years of you, my star. forever' im going to SCREAM

liked by charlesleclerc

carlossainz: am i allowed to say who she is yet?

⤷ charlesleclerc: no and i still owe you for not locking the door

⤷ user2: HELP???

⤷ user3: poor carlos has been scarred for life.

⤷ carlossainz: honestly it was kinda funny

#f1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

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punkshort · 6 months

Text

i'll be home for christmas | part three

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant

WC: 12.4K

A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.

Series Masterlist

He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.

So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.

But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.

That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.

"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.

"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."

He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.

"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.

"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"

Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.

"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."

He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.

"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.

He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.

His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.

"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.

"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."

"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.

"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"

"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.

You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.

"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.

His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.

"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.

You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.

"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.

"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.

You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.

Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.

Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta

Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut

You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.

"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.

"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.

"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.

"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.

"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.

"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.

"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.

"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.

"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.

He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.

But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.

"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"

He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.

"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.

"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.

You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?

He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.

"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.

"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.

"Should be fun," you said.

"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.

"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.

"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"

"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.

"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.

"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.

"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"

Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.

"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.

"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.

"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.

"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.

"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."

Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.

"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"

"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.

"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."

"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.

"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.

Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.

You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.

Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.

You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.

You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.

You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?

You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.

Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??

You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.

Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess

Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.

Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.

Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.

Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.

You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap

With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.

You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.

Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.

Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.

"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.

"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.

"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.

Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."

Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.

"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.

"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.

You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.

Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.

"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.

"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.

"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.

"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.

"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.

"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.

"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.

"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.

"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.

"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.

"Do you love her?"

Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.

"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.

"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.

"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.

He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.

"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.

Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.

"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.

"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."

You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.

Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.

"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.

A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.

"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.

"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"

"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."

"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.

"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.

"You heard her," he said with a grin.

"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.

"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.

"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.

"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.

But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.

"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.

"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.

You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.

Joel Miller: Miss you already.

"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.

When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.

"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"

You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.

"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"

"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."

"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."

You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.

"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."

"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.

"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.

"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.

"These are in Austin," you said slowly.

"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."

"Cas-"

"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"

"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.

"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.

"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.

"What?"

"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."

"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."

"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.

"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.

"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.

"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.

"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.

"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.

"I heard about that, might be a lot."

"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"

The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.

"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.

When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.

"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.

Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.

"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.

"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.

"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."

"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.

"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.

"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."

"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."

After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.

Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.

"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.

"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.

"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?

"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.

"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.

"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.

Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.

You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.

"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.

You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.

He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.

"It's not a big deal, just-"

"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."

"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."

You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.

"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.

"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"We're going to New York City?!"

"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."

You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.

"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"

He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome," you said with a smile.

He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.

After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.

When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.

The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.

"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.

"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.

"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.

Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.

The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.

When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.

"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.

"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."

He nodded and took a shaky breath in.

He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.

"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.

Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.

"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.

"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yep," was all Joel said in response.

"What time's her flight?"

"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.

"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."

"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.

"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.

"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.

"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.

"Yeah, but-"

"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."

"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.

"Get goin'."

Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.

Joel Miller: You awake?

He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.

You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.

"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.

"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.

"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.

He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.

"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.

"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.

"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.

"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.

"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.

"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.

"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."

He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.

You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.

So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.

You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.

He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.

"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.

"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.

He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.

"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.

"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.

"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.

God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.

"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.

"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.

You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.

He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.

You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.

"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.

You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.

"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.

"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"

"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.

"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.

You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.

"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.

You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.

"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"

"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.

She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.

You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.

"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.

Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.

He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.

The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.

"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.

"What?"

"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.

"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.

Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.

"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.

"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."

"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."

Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.

"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."

"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.

"'Course I didn't ask her-"

"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.

"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.

"Did you tell her that you love her?"

Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.

"How did-"

"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.

"Go get her, Dad."

Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.

He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.

"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"

"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.

"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."

"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"

"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.

"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.

"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.

"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.

He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.

He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.

What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -

"Joel?"

He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.

"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.

"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.

"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."

He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.

"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.

You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."

"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."

Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.

"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.

As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.

He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.

And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.

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floatyflowers · 4 months

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Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter One

You look up at the sign that says camp half blood, exhaling and inhaling, trying to calm your nerves down.

Thoughts of doubt encircle your mind, but you finally decide to step into the camp.

However, the moment you step into the camp, you feel something engulf your body.

But, you don't pay any attention to it, thinking that it must be the camp's atmosphere.

You walk around the camp, trying to search for any adult around to introduce yourself.

After three minutes of searching around, you get tired and before you know it...

...you burst into tears.

After all, it's too much for your mentality to feel such pressure.

You are thirteen, got chased by a monster, your mother barely explained anything to you before she dropped you off at the camp.

She didn't even say goodbye as if she was ashamed that your demigod side started to show.

While crying, you don't notice the figure approaching you until you feel someone pat your head.

"You are new here, I guess?"

Looking up, you are met with the sight of a handsome boy with dark brown hair and eyes who looks to be a few years older then you.

"And also your godly parent laimed you it seems"

You look above your head to see a hologram of small pink cherubs flying above your head.

"My godly father is...Eros?" you inquire slowly, amazed by the hologram

Suddenly the hologram switches to a golden sun with 21 rays made of arrows.

"I think it's Apollo"

Luke is confused at what is happening as the hologram changes again and gets replaced with glowing caduceus.

"You are my sister?"

The hologram keeps changing which confused you and Luke more until it stopped at the cherubs.

Once Hermes' son is sure that the hologram is not going to change again before he confirms your parentage.

"You are certainly Eros' daughter"

Luke seems disappointed that you aren't his sister.

"Who are you?" you ask, wiping away your tears.

"I will tell you who I'm once you tell me why you were crying"

You smile at him when you see his warm expression.

He reminds you of your kind stepfather.

"I was crying because I was stressed"

Luke chuckles and guides you further into the camp until you reach the dining pavilion area.

"Don't worry, we are now your family, I'm Luke Castellan, Hermes' son"

Some demigods turn towards you as he pushes you gently to join them.

But someone caught your eyes.

And it seems like the blond demigod also notices you.

His gloomy expression turns into one of shock before smiling brightly.

"(Y/n)!"

He walks up to you and hugs you tightly before pulls away with the same lovesick look on his face.

"You are also like me, a demigod?"

"Yeah...hey, Percy"

Percy Jackson, your school stalker, who has a huge crush 'obsession' with you.

You always remember him staring at you.

And bumping into him by accident in many occasions.

"I'm glad you are here with me"

You chuckle nervously and nod your head slowly.

"Yes, me too"

"You two know each other?"

Luke asks, seeming jealous of Percy.

After all, he already considers you his younger sister.

Percy answers with a confident smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"She is my girlfriend"

Chapter Two >>>

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #platonic yandere #romantic yandere #daughter reader #possessive #yandere percy jackson x reader #yandere luke castellan #annabeth chase #Grover underwood x reader #percy jackson and the olympians

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osachiyo · 3 months

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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — 1.7k+ words, vampire!fyodor x fem!reader, fluff + n/sfw, virginity loss, spitting (not like u think lol), soft!fyodor, cunnilingus, blood, biting, etc • this surprisingly won the poll soooo here u guys go ! also i didn't originally intend for him to be a vampire but like the latest chapter did something to me.. anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni & NOT PROOFREAD

"fedya i —"

"hush, my dear, let me take care of you," fyodor hummed, smooth but warm voice effectively cutting you off. "it's your first time, after all — we can't possibly have this be an unpleasant time for you," he spoke calmly, reaching out a thumb to smooth the crease between your brows, "i've got you, angel."

you nodded, hesitantly — wanting to please fyodor but it seemed like he was dead set on making this special for you. "now," your train of thought got cut off by fyodor's rich voice once again, "do you trust me, myshka?" he murmured the words into your neck — inhaling the sweet scent of your body lotion mixed with your natural smell. "do you even have to ask that, my love?" you chuckled, soft fingers brushing away a stray hair from his face, tucking that piece behind his ear and he smiled, "no, but it doesn't hurt to ask, right sweetheart?" cold lips pressed themselves against your neck — before his tongue darted out to lick at the sensitive skin.

you gasped when he finally bit down on your neck, fangs etching themselves deep into your soft flesh, you could feel your face flush at the way fyodor's hands were trying to grab anywhere he could, until they settled on the small of your back, pressing you as close to him as possible.

"f-fedya.." you pressed against his chest when you started to feel light headed, immediately catching his attention as he pulled away — you could see your blood staining his vampiric teeth and running down his lips in a line. "apologies, my dear — i was simply drunk off of your taste," he licked his lips clean before pressing them against your cheek — merely brushing them against your eager lips for a second before pulling away. damn tease.

"why don't you take this off for me, hm?" long fingers brushed against the straps of your nightgown, his hands itching to just rip the flimsy piece of clothing off — but he had to be patient. he didn't want to rush things with you, after all.

you happily obliged his request, slipping the thin straps off your shoulder, before shimmying out of the dress. now only in your undergarments, you shivered from the night air hitting your sensitive spots. but before you could even complain, fyodor suddenly captured your lips in a heated kiss — your inexperienced ones struggling to keep up with his.

you didn't even notice he had you pinned on the bed until your back hit the mattress, your hair sprawled on the sheets like a halo around you — making you look like an angel in his eyes. "..beautiful," fyodor whispered against your collarbones, leaving small nips and bites there — his cool lips a great contrast to your heated skin.

"f-fedya," you moaned once his hands found your breasts, fondling the soft mounds in his palms before looking up at you with those amethyst eyes. "yes, my dear?" he grinned, brushing his sharp teeth on the side of your tit, restraining himself from biting you.

"touch me more, please," you begged, hips twitching up involuntarily when his fingers found your nipples, pinching the hardened buds between his lithe digits while pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts.

"i'd be a fool not to," he chuckled, happily obliging to your pleads. "let's take this off, yeah?" he put his fingers in the waistband of your panties, admiring the pretty little bow on the skimpy garment. it felt like he was unwrapping a present — your pussy.

he watched as strings of your arousal stuck to the fabric as he pulled it away, revealing your awaiting and untouched cunt to him. "absolutely gorgeous," he breathed out, the air fanning on your folds made your head spin. fyodor eventually took your panties fully off, chucking it somewhere on the bed, but his eyes were on you the entire time — on that perfect cunt.

"may i, darling?" fyodor licked his lips, trying his best to not just shove his head between your thighs — he needed you to say it, to want it as bad as he did.

"please, need you so bad right now —!," you whined, tossing your head back once he licked a flat stripe up your cunt, groaning lowly at the taste. "taste's s'good," he purred, gathering your slick on his tongue before dipping the pink muscle into your hole — almost tongue-fucking you.

"mmh," you tried your best to muffle the sinful noises escaping your lips — biting down on your hand so hard it's almost enough to draw blood, until you felt fyodor's cold hands pry it away — "i want to hear you, my love, don't be shy —" his tongue swirled over your clit deliciously, "sing for me."

and you did — back arching so sweetly while those intoxicating little moans and whines rolled off your tongue, all while fyodor's was moving in and out of you.

" 'm gonna cum — fedya, please," your hand found purchase in his soft ebony locks, tugging on it gently and hearing, feeling him moan into your cunt — sending vibrations throughout your whole body.

"please what?" he finally opened his eyes, mischief written all over his features as he worked his mouth on you. "what do you want me to do, pretty girl?" fyodor hummed, pulling away to spread your folds with his thumbs — before spitting directly onto your hole, watching the tight ring clench and unclench rapidly. how cute, he thought.

you gasped at the lewd show he was putting on, before reluctantly speaking up, "please make — make me c-cum, fedya," the tears gathered on your lashes finally fell, earning a soft coo from the man between your legs.

"is that right, my love?" he mused, reaching down a finger to collect some of your slick before plunging the long digit in — breath catching in his throat once he felt just how tight and warm you were. "cum for me, beautiful," that was the last thing he rasped before diving in — groaning unashamedly into your cunt. that was all you needed, the final push before releasing all over his face and mouth, drenching his chin down to his collar, and he wasn't even mad about it.

"oh oh go— gosh, feels s'good," you clenched your eyes shut at the unbelievable amount of pleasure, it was so good. fyodor continued to lick and gulp down all your juices, muttering praises in between.

once he finally pulled away, he finally took a good look at you and fuck — you looked utterly debauched. tits spilling from the bra he was yet to completely take off, the bite marks littering your skin and your face. especially your face — eyes glazed over and unfocused as little pants left your mouth, drool and tears running down your chin. you looked like a ruined mess — a beautiful ruined mess.

fyodor didn't waste any time before beginning to undress himself, he needed to fuck you — now. he could feel how unbelievably hard he was, it almost hurt how turned on he was, not that he'd ever admit how crazy you make him.

"you're ready," he breathed, before kissing you deeply — hardened cock rubbing against your folds and spreading his precum on them, mixing with your arousal. "so ready," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, pinning you against the headboard this time.

"do tell if this hurts too much," he groaned, biting his chapped lips as he slowly pushed the tip in — feeling you contract around him nearly drove him insane. you gasped and writhed in pain as he entered you — but it felt so good at the same time, to be so impossibly close to the man you love — you didn't mind the pain too much, instead focusing on the blooming warmth in your chest.

that warmth intensified once you glanced at his face — usual pale skin now flushed, brows furrowed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he looked almost angelic — as if he wasn't a creature of sin.

fyodor's eyes opened and he caught you staring at him in awe, his lips twitching up to show a genuine smile — filled with love and warmth for you. only for you.

"you feel so good, moya lyubov," he almost moaned out — hips thrusting so sensually it almost had you rolling your eyes back.

"a-ah fyodor —!" you mewled so cutely when he brushed his fangs against your neck — so sharp they almost drew blood. "can i? please, milyy," he pleaded — and who were you to say no to him?

you didn't answer him with words, only craning your neck to give him more access — and he got the memo. sharp fangs sunk into your neck, making you tightening your grip on fyodor — his hips quickening their pace, now becoming desperate, and hungry for release.

the taste of your blood filled fyodor's senses — you tasted so good, so sweet he had to hold himself back from cumming immediately — he had to make his girl cum first, right?

your eyes shot open once you felt cold fingertips rubbing your clit in hurried circles, walls clenching even more on the vampire's length which had him muttering small curses in russian. you could feel yourself getting light-headed from the loss of blood — but it wasn't fatal, he'd never hurt you like that. "close, milaya?" he grunted, now licking up the blood dripping from the punctures on your neck — his eyes rolling back slight from the metallic taste.

"yes — yesyesyes —!" you squealed, gushing all over his cock, soaking the bedsheets in the process. fyodor couldn't last much longer either, your taste along with the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him had him cumming seconds after you — both of you moaning in unison as he filled you to the brim.

you yelped when fyodor slumped against you — for a vampire, he didn't have the stamina of one. "tired?" you breathed out, brushing some stray hair from his pretty face. fyodor only hummed in response, eyes opening to take in the sight of you underneath him — pants leaving the both of you. your hair was messy, dried blood and tears staining your skin. "so beautiful," he hummed, pressing his lips against your temple. "you did so well, my love," he praised, chuckling at the way you suddenly became so shy.

"get some rest, my dear — i'll have ivan make you something rich in iron. i may have took... a tad too much blood," he sighed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. you could only nod absentmindedly, eyes fluttering closed as the tiredness finally got to you.

an "i love you, sleep well, beautiful girl," was the last thing you heard before slipping away in dream land.

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

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redfoxwritesstuff · 1 month

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A Taste of Sugar, Part 2 (18+)

Here be the smut- proceed with caution if you're over 18 Alastor x reader Rated: E Chapter warnings: Blood Kink, Blood Drinking, Tentacles, Dom Alastor, Restrained Reader, Vaginal Fingering, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex. Part 1

AN: Here lies spitesmut, 11k fucking words born out of spite. Nonny, do not tell me what I will and will not do. Enjoy the cartoon smut you didn't want to see. The blood drinking you didn't want to read. The shadow tentacles you didn't want to see. The demon you didn't want to fuck. Cuz, I know you're going to read this- After all, scrolling on is far too fucking complicated for you. Welcome to my "I'll fuck a cartoon serial killer era" Love, Kit. (PS. 3 things published in 48 hours is *never* going to happen again)

~~~~~<3

You were pretty sure he was no longer talking about desserts. You were pretty sure he was talking about another appetite that you’d heard speculation that he didn’t partake in. You were pretty sure you were losing your mind.

“What circumstances?” You whisper as he dragged his thumb out of your mouth, dragging the pad against your lip again.

“Should someone catch my eye and sufficiently hold my attention,” Someone, not something. There was no doubt in your mind what you were discussing now. “I may partake.”

“Do,” You hesitated, before asking the question you hadn’t ever considered yourself. “Do you wish to partake tonight?”

You hadn’t thought about Alastor in this way before and yet, it was like you were seeing him now, truly for the first time. He was a handsome man in his own terrifying way. Tall and lean, quiet confidence and sheer power radiated off of him. He was chaotic, driving those around him mad.

“You make me wish to partake,” Alastor said, leaning into your space as you puzzled over what that could mean. Surely it was just for tonight. But if it was just for tonight, why would he have been sending you treats with the hope that you’d share? That you’d think of him?

What did it all mean?

“Oh?” You whispered as you finally braved meeting his red eyes only to instantly find yourself captured by the way he looked at you, lids heavy and pupils blown.

“May I?” Alastor’s other hand snaked around your waist, hovering, not quite touching but painfully close to doing so. “Partake, that is?”

“Okay?”

As soon as the whispered word left your mouth, his thumb dragged down your lip and chin. His fingers gripped your chin and pulled your face up as he stepped into the last of your space and leaned down.

His smile never faltered, even as his lips closed and met yours. The miniscule distance between his arm and your waist disappeared in an instant as he held you to him.

Alastor lacked the bulk of muscle but you could feel the power thrumming through his body as your hand reached up, resting against his chest. You were far from a blushing virgin though you were also not the most promiscuous woman in hell and yet touching him felt scandalous.

The way his tongue snaked out from between his lips, lapping the sticky sweet sugar his thumb left on your lips. Your mind was too preoccupied by the feeling of him licking the sugar up to question it when he took your hand from his chest.

Shadows flickered, you didn’t know if they were real or a figment of your imagination playing images behind your eyelids. There was a shifting feeling, as if the world itself was somehow moving around you, under you. It felt somewhat like if you had been standing on a moving bus, eyes closed and trusting. Not exactly, that didn’t come close to the feeling but it was a start. It was as close as you would ever come to explaining the feeling.

“Forgive me, my dear. I did not wish to be observed.” He spoke softly, still standing suffocatingly close as you observed the room you found yourself over his shoulder.

A fireplace against the far wall gave off flickering warm light and heat that wasn’t needed yet was relaxing just the same. Thick carpet muffled your shuffling step but in the distance that thick carpet along with the rich red walls gave way to a landscape that looked so hauntingly human and yet was nothing you’d seen before.

The portion of the room that was still a room was dark, save for the firelight and moonlight from where it gave way to the outdoors. It was magical and yet as disorienting as Alastor’s kiss or the way he had transported you there.

“Where are we?” You ask, already knowing the answer but not really being able to understand how such a space could exist within the hotel.

“My room,” Alastor answered, hooking your chin with the backs of the fingers he had wrapped around your hand, drawing your attention back to him, silently demanding once again that you pay attention to him.

Alastor pulled you to him, pinning you against his body as his sharp teeth nipped at your lips. Reflexively, your tongue darted out, running over the stinging skin. The lingering sweet of the sugar still clings to her lips, mostly gone now.

Alastor guided her as his grinning lips worked down her jaw, tracing the sweet taste of sugar his fingers had left behind as he walked you back toward his bed. Sharp teeth nipped at your throat, leaving stinging lovebites that leaked drops of ruby red.

No, Alastor didn’t care for desserts or sweets much at all but this was a flavor that had him humming in delight. The hint of sugar on your skin, the salt of you and the coppery taste of your blood made for a treat he would savor.

You weren’t sure when you wrapped your free arm around him, hand snaking up his back and clinging to his shoulder as he moved you through is space. The position you had found yourself could be mistaken for dancing, should anyone peek in on the room.

The back of your knees hit the soft edge of his bed causing your balance, already teetering, to fail you. Alastor’s hand around your waist allowed him to control your decent, leading your back onto his bed while driving you forward with his lips.

Reaching up, you ran your hands over his chest before working the buttons of his coat free. If this was going to be the only time you got to have Alastor, you intended to make the best of it.

Slipping your hands under his coat, you take in the strong planes of his abdomen and chest, the way his muscles defined yet lean, moved as his lips worked down your neck. Slowly, you ran your hands up his shoulder before pushing the coat back, sending it down his back.

Leaning back, Alastor freed his arms from the coat, tossing it blindly to a chair near by. You were entranced as he reached up, pulling his bowtie from his neck and sending it soaring too. Long fingers worked the first few buttons of his shirt free, exposing a tantalizing amount of his neck.

It felt scandalous to see Alastor’s high collar undone. The way his chest and clavicles could just be glimpsed as he moved sent fire through you. It was silly, really. The man was still fully dressed and yet it felt to you like he had not a stich of clothing on.

As he invaded your space again, driving you back with the intensity of his presence, you wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch him. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you from scooting away from him on instinct alone.

Your fingers grazed him before black wrapped around your wrists, pulling your arms up and back as you gasped in shock.

“I said I wish to partake, not that you may.” Alastor said, wicked grin seeming to glow in the dim room.

His hands were so strong on you as he resumed his work, nipping down until your soft night shirt blocks his progress. The fact that it was common knowledge that it was a favorite of yours didn’t stop him from gripping the fabric and using his nails to rip it apart.

You hadn’t left your room with the intention of finding Alastor, or anyone else for that matter, for a romantic tryst and were far from dressed for it. There was no sexy lingerie for him to find under. There was no lacy bra.

Just you, breasts on full display and core covered in a pair of shorts that would have otherwise been too short to wear around the hotel. You hadn’t intended anyone to see you but he was seeing far more of you than anyone had for a long time.

You wanted to apologize or make excuses for your lack of preperation for his eyes. He was Alastor, after all, the great and powerful overlord who could have any woman on her knees for him if he showed an interest in having her. Your face was hot with the knowledge that you were so-

“Beautiful,” he said as he looked down at you, running sharp tipped fingers along the curves of your sides.

You flinched away from the tickling touch, not able to go anywhere with your arms pinned above you. One of your legs was pinned by him when he had climbed up onto the bed, the other hanging limp and unsure what to do, any attempt to squirm away from him would result in you opening your legs up to him more or running your thigh and calf along his leg.

“Beautiful,” He said again, this time you registered the word, his hands moving lower. Warm palms smoothed down your hips, finding your shorts and making quick work of them as well.

“Alastor?” You wanted to touch him. You wanted to feel him, to see him like he was seeing you.

“You have denied me, my dear.” He looked up at you from where he had been nipping his way down your chest, leaving red marks from his sharp teeth along the tender swell of your breasts. “Time and time again, you have denied me your treats. Are you going to deny me again?”

“No?” Your breath caught in your throat as your head spun.

“Good girl,” He drew out the words, singing them slowly as he nipped the underside of your breast, nose nudging the pebble of your neglected nipple as again, a droplet of blood was lapped up by his tongue.

His breath ghosted over your nipple, teasing it with the breeze as he exhaled a deep sigh through his nose. You arched into the feeling, his hands gripping around your ribcage, making you aware of just how much bigger than you he was in so many ways.

He towered over many weaker demons and you were no exception to that. Long fingers caressed your back as the pads of his thumbs ran along the front of your ribs. In an instant, he could break your body if he wanted to, crush your ribcage by simply tightening his grip.

Your life could be ended by his hand should he change his mind, there wasn’t a single goddamned thing you could do about it. That realization only served to stroke the fire his words had ignited.

Pain was never something you would have said you were into before. The lovebites stung, sure but his teeth were so sharp that the sting came after each bite, as he licked up the bubbles of blood. As his sharp teeth scratched over the nipple he took into his mouth, you surprised yourself with the gasping moan that slipped from your throat.

Long, dexterous tongue lapped at the nub, soothing every cutting scratch and erasing every trace of blood.

“Beautiful and delicious,” Alastor mused as he made his way down your abdomen.

Something cold and firm wrapped around your free leg, pulling it out from where it was resting against Alastor. A new wave of heat flooded through you as Alastor shifted his position, freeing your trapped leg and nestling his knees between them. A similar force grabbed ahold of the freed ankle and pulled, spreading you open before him.

“You’re so timid.” He mused, fingers digging into your hips as you were spread even wider by black tentacles you had only ever seen cause carnage before.

“Tell me what you want,” He ordered, red eyes looking into yours, “Tell me what you want to share with me.”

“Alastor?” You knew he knew, why should you have to say it?

You’d been dancing around it. you’d been hinting at it. The idea of saying it explicitly terrified you.

You watched as his eyes traced your face, neck, shoulders. They swept down your chest and up your arms. They were everywhere and yet he seemed unconcerned with taking in your core spread before him.

“Say it. Tell me,” His hands ran up your thighs, thumbs stretching to caress your inner thigh, coming so close to your heat as his fingers wrapped around the exteriors. “And perhaps we can reach a deal?”

A deal. Alastor was a deal maker. Powerful. You needed to get yourself out of this situation. Whatever the hell was going on here, you needed to run away. You had no business making deals with Alastor, let alone while you were spread naked and wanting on his bed.

This was a bad position to be in. He had all the power and you had nothing to offer him except what? Some treats? Your body?

His thumb came even closer, caressing the curve where your thighs met your lips. The contact had your heart stopping in your chest and your breath trapped in your lungs.

“What is it your desire?” Alastor’s voice was thick with static, radio overlay cackling and distorting the sound. Colors seemed to invert, shadows grew and yet you couldn’t look away from him. The antlers atop his head grew, branching out. Colors snapped back to correct but now over saturated. The darkness was too deep. The reds too red.

“You,” You breathe out, not even fully aware of what you were admitting. You should be terrified but need burned through you as the power, his power, surged around you.

For all of eternity women have fallen at the feet of powerful men for a sip of what they could offer. For centuries, it had been the only way women could obtain any power for themselves.

It turns out, you were no different. Sipping at the alter of power seemed to be ingrained in your very DNA. You had no hope of becoming powerful on your own but if you could just taste his power, just for a night, you would give anything.

“And what will you give me?” Alastor said, joints shifting unnaturally as he towered over you, thumbs still caressing the edge of your lips even as he pulled your thighs further apart by the shadows handling your ankles.

“Me,” You said, fearing it wasn’t going to be enough. You would never be enough for him. There was no power within you that you could give him.

“For eternity.” Alastor said, eyes now black, red dials burning into you, green stichs standing out in vivid contrast to the black and red that made up all of him. “I shall have you for eternity?”

“If you’ll have me?” You were gasping, feeling like you were being smothered by the raw power in the air as he leaned up your body, somehow doing so without shifting off his knees between your legs, “If you want me.”

“You will be mine.” Alastor said, terrifying face close to yours’, “Your treats will be mine. Your body, mine. Your heart, mine. Your very soul, mine. You will share it with none. In exchange, you get me. Is it a deal?”

This was insanity. Madness. You knew better. He had asked for your soul. You don’t just sell your soul to get laid. He had asked for your heart.

Your heart.

And your soul.

But, he had asked for your heart.

“Why do you want my soul?”

“For safe keeping.” Alastor’s breath washed over you, hot and moist. “To ensure none can take what is mine.”

“Yours?” You twitched, wanting to touch him even as the idea of giving your everything to him for a night terrified you. “Give you everything for eternity just to have you-” You gasped as the thing wrapped around your ankle snaked higher, caressing your knee. “For a night?”

“An eternity for an eternity,” Alastor offered, “That is the terms I am laying out. Do you accept?”

“Deal,” You whispered and his lips crashed into yours as his expanded form seemed more likely to devour you than kiss you.

Powered washed over you, flowed through you as the weight of a shackle settled against your neck. The chain attached to it pulled taught, drawing you to Alastor with what little ability you had to move as the back of the collar bit into your neck.

As he kissed you, his body shifted, pressing you into the mattress before he shrank down to what you considered as his normal size.

Your leg was pulled up by the knee wrapped in shadows, spreading you out even more. Your other ankle was pushed up, forcing your knee to buckle. As soon as you tried to use the freedom of movement this granted you to preserve any ounce of modesty, black wrapped around that knee as well and you were pulled wide open before red eyes that finally took your most intimint place in.

“Beautiful,” Alastor remarked as his hands returned to your inner thighs, running up the expanse of exposed skin, savoring the contrast of it against his bloodstained hands.

Your face was hot as you struggled to breathe through the way his eyes devoured your exposed sex. Slick already coated you, having begun to pool as you had been fed pastry ever so intimately in the kitchen.

You could feel how much worse the situation was now. With your legs held so far open, there was nothing to obstruct Alastor’s view as you could feel a wave of slick slip from you as muscles clenched.

His fingers caressed over you weeping hole, scooping up the slick on the pads of his fingers and held them up for you to see the evidence as he asked, “Why are you so wet?”

You hid your face against your arm, unable to take the power of his eye contact any longer. There was no part of his physical body touching you in that moment and you weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

“What has your body so excited already? Tell me.” When you failed, instead trying to hide in shame, Alastor demanded you use your words or he would leave you as you were for however long it took. There was not an ounce of doubt in you that he would follwo through with the threat.

“You,” You tripped over the simple word.

“But I’ve hardly touched you?” Alastor teased, bringing his hand closer and closer to your face, ensuring you can smell your arousal on his fingertips .

“You’ve been touching me,” You struggled to force the words out, unsure if he was teasing you, torturing you or actually unaware of the impact his actions had on you.

“Wonderful,” Alastor said, leaning back and running his long tongue over his slick covered fingers. Could he taste the sugar on his fingers in addition to the taste of you? The question drew a shameful moan from your throat regardless of the fact that he was only touching you with shadows.

“How terribly rude of me!” His voice was bright and cheery, as if wasn’t kneeling between your spread legs, body on display. “I chastise you for not sharing and here I am, keeping a treat all to myself. Where have my manners gone?”

He shifted, supporting his weight over you with a hand on the mattress close enough to your ribs for you to feel the warmth of him yet not touching you. Bringing his fingers, still coated in the slick he had scooped up to your lips as if he was offering a taste of some treat.

It was lewd. Never had you found yourself one to even think about tasting yourself. It wasn’t something that interested you in the past. You turned your head as he presented his fingers closer.

The slippery pad of his fingers ran along your lower lip. When you failed to open to him willingly, cringing away instead, he forced his fingers into your mouth. His sharp nails pinched and cut your lips in the process causing you to gasp and make his task all the more easier.

“You will take what I offer you.” He said simply as he caressed your tongue with the pads of his first and middle fingers. The taste of you wasn’t terrible. Hesitantly, you ran your tongue over his fingers, twisting around them.

“Good girl.” He praised, voice warm and musical as his fingers pushed deeper into your mouth. “When did it start?”

“Wha?” It was difficult to form the question with his fingers, sweet from sugar and you in your mouth.

“When did your body start preparing itself for me?” Leaning down, Alastor swept his tongue over your bleeding lips, groaning at the taste after he withdrew his fingers. You had finally been given the ability to clearly speak only to to have him suffocate your ability to think with his presence.

“Was it my lips on your skin? The feeling of my kiss?” He teased, voice musical.

“No,” You were not sure where this night was going to go, you couldn’t even be sure what Alastor was going to do with your body as he tormented you. He teased you with his words and his eyes more than anything else.

“Was it my hands, ripping your pathetic simple clothes?”

“No,” You couldn’t look away from the red of his eyes.

“Was it my shadows? Gripping you? Spreading you? Presenting you?”

“No,” Your voice was little more than a whine as you tried and failed to struggle free from his grasp.

“What was it?” Alastor demanded, stattic growing. “Tell me.”

“From the start.” You whined when he demanded elaboration, “Feeding me. The sugar on your fingers. The look in your eyes. From the start.”

“Interesting,” Alastor leaned back, pulling the warmth of his body away from you as he seemed to work over the information.

You flushed under his eyes, unable to read him. You wanted him to want you but fuck, did he even? Was this just a game? A way to pass the night?

The shadows wrapped around your legs crept up your thighs, wrapping around your waist and pulling your lower body up into the air. Blood rushed to your head before your arms were hoisted up as well, leaving you suspended and spread in the air.

Right in front of Alastor.

Your hair hung loose from your head as your neck strained to hold your head up to allow you to look down your body and into his eyes. It was impossible to look away as his large palms ran up your inner thighs, long fingers caressing you slowly as he inched forward, eyes locked on yours.

His hot breath fanned over you, making your heart beat faster in your chest. It felt like it took forever for him to inch forward and then, when the distance was closed it was far too much. Alastor’s tongue swiped up your spread folds, scooping up slick greedily as he groaned at the taste.

“And to think,” Alastor spoke while making what felt like aggressively violent eye contact, “This was yet another treat you’d been denying me.”

You moaned at his words as he turned his attention back to your cunt, spread in front of him as if it was an offering placed at an alter. His tongue was dexterous and long as it snaked into your hole, lapping at the source of your slick as if it was a dessert prepared just for him.

And perhaps it was.

The weight of your head was too much for your neck to support while distracted by the warm pleasure granted by his mouth as he sipped from the source. His nose bumped against your clit as you struggled against the shadows that held your legs and hips in the air, a sharp gasp fell from your lips before you could stop it.

Alastor hummed as he shifted his attention, tongue leaving your core empty as it sought a new target. He poked at and caressed the sensitive nub that drew such lovely gasps from your lips. Sucking and blowing, he teased the little nub every way he could think of as he studied each of your reactions, searching for the stimulation that would send you soaring under his touch.

You trembled under his touch as his hands rubbed your thighs, caressing your hips and up your back as if the black tentacle wrapped around you didn’t exist. Lightening and fear lit up your brain as you felt the flat backs of his nails run over your folds before a sharp tipped finger pushed inside.

You had no doubt that he could rip your inner walls with no effort at all.

“Trust me,” He demanded and you wanted to. Hell, you had no choice but to and yet it still took time to relax as he worked the finger inside you.

Warm lips and sharp teeth returned to your clit, making it hard to focus on the threat of his nail and not the pleasure he was drawing from you. A second deadly finger pushed inside, drawing a true moan from you that earned a chuckle from Alastor in return.

Your neck hurt from the weight of your head hanging limply. Muscles tensed and bunched as you fought to chase the stimulation. Every touch felt sharp and pushed you closer to that cliff within you.

And then there was nothing.

No fingers.

No tongue.

No touch.

Nothing.

Alastor leaned back and watched as you clenched around nothing at all, smile wide as he asked, “What do you want?”

You groaned, struggling as the shadows lowered you.

“Please?” You didn’t want to beg. Hell, you shouldn’t have to beg. It was a part of the deal. He said you could have him. In your eagerness, you had failed to iron out the details of what having him meant. His idea of giving himself to you may not have anything in common with yours, you realized with a cold shock.

“Please what?” Alastor hummed, wiping your slick from his face with the palm of the hand that hadn’t been bullying your walls.

“I want you.” Fuck it, you’d beg. How could you not when he looked at you so intently, palm hiding the smile you knew lived on his face. “Please. You said I could have you.”

“You’ve had me.” Alastor chuckled as he continued to not touch you. “You’ve had my mouth. You’ve had my fingers even! That’s more than anyone’s had in a rather long time.”

“I want-”

“You didn’t stipulate what you wanted me to give you, my darling.” Alastor grinned wider as you whined. “It appears that it’s your lucky night however!”

Alastor’s belt clinked as the shadow’s lowered you the rest of the way to the bed. He whipped the belt free from the loops with such force that it snapped as he sent it flying with a dramatic swing of his arm.

Your fingers twitched as you watched him unbutton his pants. Freeing him from his clothes was a task you wanted to see to. You wanted to indulge in the process of stripping him as bare as you were. You wanted to feel his skin under your hands as you pushed the shirt from his shoulders, as you freed his cock from the confines of his pants.

“Something the matter?” You hadn’t realized you were whining, whimpering soft pleas of ‘please’ as you watched him.

“I want to touch you.” You admitted shamelessly.

He hummed for a moment, eyes cast toward where the ceiling gave way to the illusion of a night sky before snapping down to yours, “No.”

“No?” You were sure you had to have heard him wrong. You had to have heard him wrong.

“No,” He said as if that explained everything as he pulled his straining cock from where his pants had been strangling it.

Alastor climbed over you, cock in hand as he drew his face closer to yours. Arching your back, you tried to touch him in any way you could with what little movement you could manage as he slowly stroked a dark hand along his length, thumb swiping over the red tip. Not one part of you was able to touch him.

“Please? Please, Alastor. Please?”

“You beg so prettily.” Alastor said, red eyes drowning you in a sea of fire. “Do you need me?”

“Yes.” Shame was long gone, you didn’t know her anymore.

“I should make you wait.” He threatened, kissing you softly in contrast. “I should make you long for a taste of what I can offer you as you have had the gall to do to me. I should make you mad with longing, as you did to me. I should drive you to the edges of sanity for a simple consideration, as you did to me.”

“I need you,” You begged, terrified that he would leave you unfulfilled as you had been unknowingly doing to him. You whimpered it with ever accusation, a pea of need and a longing for mercy.

God, what did his words mean? You hadn’t intended to do that to him. Fuck, you couldn’t even begin to say how you had done it. How had you captured his gaze? His attention? His longing?

His words sounded dangerously close to obsession.

“Good,” He said, grinning down at you.

“I want to see you,” A gasp slipped from you as he ran the head of his cock along your slit, head of his cock bulling your clit as he swiped up, coating himself in slick with each pass.

“You are seeing me,” Alastor knew damn well what you meant, “You’re seeing as much of me as you need to.”

“I want more,” Tears gathered in your eyes and one had the audacity to trace a path slowly down your face.

“No,” Leaning into you, he licked up the salty trail from your face as he pushed himself inside painfully slowly. The feeling of his soft tongue on your face contrasted with the silky steel of his cock as he inched deeper and deeper inside.

He didn’t give you time to adjust. There was no teasing. Alastor didn’t hesitate or pause to see how much of him your smaller body could take.

He simply kept pushing forward even as he grinned down at you, demanding you take all of him. You moaned, arching as he filled you, stretching to try and somehow make room for his considerable length as pain tinged the pleasure. Your teeth bit at your lip as you tried to choke off the sound of your whimpered moans.

You wanted more contact. You needed it. Yet there was nothing you could do to obtain anymore. The only point of contact between you and Alastor was his cock pushing inside one inch at a time.

He was long and thick, not overly so but fitting his body well. That worried you. His body was larger than yours by a good amount and that looked perfectly reasonable on him felt monstrous inside you.

Tentacles shifted, pulling your body taught as you neared the end of what you thought you could take. He kept giving though until his hips kissed your body and a delicious pain tinged the stretch.

“Good girl,” Alastor praised, smile tight. “I knew you could take all of me,” He said as if he had given you a choice.

He bumped his hips against yours hard, taking delight in the moan that fell from your lips at the harsh nudge of his head against your cervix. Pulling out just as slowly as he had pushed in, you squirmed as you tried to get more.

He paused, head just kissing your soaked opening and admired the shine of your slick coating him. It was a mess and he found the way it spread onto his trousers to be distasteful but that was alright, for now. They could be cleaned.

“So needy,” He mused as he leaned over you again, bracing for a moment before slamming into you only to pause, fully seated in your warmth.

“Am I touching you enough yet?” Alastor loomed over you again, fucking you and yet not.

“More,” You wanted to scream from the frustration.

“I’ve got you stretched around me,” He pulled out slowly as he spoke, only to once again harshly slam his way home. “So tightly. There’s nowhere I am not reaching.”

He was right but still, you begged for more.

“So greedy,” Alastor tsked in mock disappointment as he fell into a slow rhythm.

Shadows lifted your hips as he rose up onto his knees, changing the angle of his trusts. Strong hands wrapped around your hips as he picked up his pace, each thrust punctuated with the harsh slam of his hips into you.

“Are you happy now?” He teased, running his hands along your sides as he fucked into you still too slowly. “I’m touching you more.”

More. You wanted more. You needed more.

“Well?” His eyes burned into you. “Use your pretty little words and tell me.”

“More?” You wanted to hate how pathetic you sounded, whining for more of his touch, to be granted more pleasure by him but you couldn’t manage to draw the shame to the surface.

“More?” Alastor laughed, his body shifting to fold over you as he blocked out your view of the ceiling, not that you’d been able to take your eyes from him for more then fleeting moments. “More what?”

“More touch,” You moaned as he thrust into you harder. “Please, touch me more. Let me,”

Alastor’s shadows let go of your legs and hips. He thrust into you as your hips fell to the bed with the force of his hips hitting yours. You struggled against the shadows around your wrists but gained no ground there.

At least your legs had been freed. You ran them up and down his hips and legs. It was maddening how good it felt to feel him under the smoothe fabric of his trousers. Greedy, that’s what you knew he’d call you as you squeezed at his hips with your thighs, trying to expose some more of him, desperate for the feel of his skin.

“You are a naughty one, aren’t you?” Alastor leaned back and wrapped one of your thighs in his strong hand.

As if it took no effort at all, he pulled your leg up to stretch up his torso, ankle hooking over his shoulder near his neck. You could feel the flex of his muscles with each thrust.

He allowed his grip on your thigh to slacken as he pulled from you, cock dragging against your walls each time. His hand not clutching your leg rested on your abdomen and fuck, you could feel the pressure of his hand from inside with each thrust.

“Greedy little doll,” Alastor ran his tongue along your calf as he pushed harder down against your soft body.

The pressure made every punishing thrust of his cock into you all the more intense. Your arms hurt from how they were stretched out over your head, joints pulled tight every time he pulled you to match his thrusts.

“I give you an ounce of freedom and what do you do with it?” Teeth scraped against your calf, “You try to take more even as I’m giving your cunt exactly what you need.”

“Need,” You parroted the only word that made sense to you as he drove you closer to the edge. “Need to touch you. Need more.”

“I’ll give you more,” Alastor’s teeth sank into your calf, cutting deep.

Oh, that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. You should have been screaming out in pain as blood gushed into Alastor’s mouth, spilling from the corners as he drank greedily from the wound.

You didn’t scream though. No, what came spilling from your lips pulled Alastor’s into a bloody smile, smearing red against your skin.

Ultimately, it was the look in his eyes and your blood on his lips that pushed you to the edge of the cliff. You were so wet. The sound of wet squelching was the music your moans sang along to.

Alastor groaned, adding his voice to the chorus of carnal music your bodies danced to. Slapping skin was the beat he played your body to and now, the greatest part of your song was approaching.

“Alastor,” His name was stuttered, broken as it fell from your mouth and oh, how he liked the way that sounded as you repeated it.

“Yes?” He looked down at you with eyes that you would have sworn was lit from within. You couldn’t look away, “You’re close, I can feel you.”

Red eyes. Blood smeared lips. His hand pushed harder into you, ensuring the head of his cock bullied your sweet spot with each sharp thrust in. The bed creaked under you with the increasing force of his thrusts.

“Didn’t I tell you?” He chuckled, “That I’d give you exactly what you need? I’d touch you, just how you need to come undone on my cock?”

“Oh fuck,” You struggled to keep focus anywhere. Your eyes roamed him, hardly under your control. Red lips. Bloodstained hand gripping your thigh, nails cutting trails you didn’t even feel as you were driven closer and closer to the edge.

“What do you need?” He said, filter flickering in and out of his voice as static grew around you. If asked, you’d say the static was caressing your skin though how that was possible, you’d have no idea.

“You,” He felt so good, it was hard to think.

“Fuck,” you pulled against the shadows as he laughed at you.

“Need to touch,” You begged as static seemed to rise and fall around you with every brutal thrust. “Please. Please, Al- Alastor, Please. I want to, I need to touch you. Please.”

Tears were falling from your eyes, sparkling in the dim light of the room as Alastor leaned in, pushing your leg toward your chest. He reached deeper with each of his thrusts now, the head of his cock bullying your cervix harshly.

Blood dripped onto your chest from the wound on your calf but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. He was so close now, folding you in half. You could feel the warmth of his body, so close and yet you could only touch him how he allowed, where he pressed his body into you.

“I suppose,” He said after a hum, broken by nearly inaudible groan as your core fluttered around him with promise, “Since you’ve begged so prettily.”

The shadows around your body dematerialized, turning to smoke as your arms sagged. The joints ached, from wrist to shoulder, it felt like they creaked as they moved. Yet you didn’t hesitate for a moment as your palms went to his arms.

Strong arms covered in well worn, soft fabric supported him. The muscles hidden from view felt strong as steel under your touch.

“Is that what you wanted?” Alastor’s face was so close to yours now, you were drowning in him.

“Yes, God, yes.” Close. You were so close now. His chest was firm and you wanted so badly to slip the buttons free. The idea of exposing more of him alone was near enough to send you feral, not that you had enough space or power to act on it.

“I am your God here.” Blasphemous words fell from his blood tinged lips. “I am your God now. Only me.”

He shifted his weight to one arm, large palm freed to run up your chest, smearing the spilled blood, only to wrap frighteningly tight around your throat. This shouldn’t turn you on as much as it did. The moan that spilled from your lips felt like it was born in your core, the sound rich and deep.

“Say it.” He shifted, rubbing his pubic bone and the hair that cushioned his cock against your clit, providing stimulation that had been missing for so long. “Say it and I’ll let you cum undone on my cock. Say it and I’ll give you the privilege of touching me while I...”

Radio filter dropped in and out as he spoke, each dip in the filter was met with a caressing rise of the static, as if to try and distract you from the sound of his naked voice.

“Oh my G-” You choked the word off even as his hand tightened around your throat. “Fuck, Alastor.”

Lips kissed your shoulder as he leaned into you more, folding you even tighter. Sharp nips and soft kisses traced your jaw, just above where his fingers gripped.

“Again,” He demanded, nipping your jaw as you tightened around him, dancing on the edge of a loaded spring.

You ran your hands up his chest, along his shoulders as he demanded you say his name, that you call him a God. You held onto his shoulder for dear life- dear afterlife? Fuck, you couldn’t think.

Finally, as your hand trailed up the back of his neck, you were rewarded with the feeling of skin under your hand. Soft skin burned under your fingers. The short hairs of his undercut were soft under your finger tips.

“Please, Alastor. Fuck, my god. You, you’re my god. Whatever you want. Please, please.”

You hadn’t expected him to kiss you but he cut your pleas off with his lips. He fucked you hard and fast, pounding you into the mattress without mercy as you tasted your blood on his tongue.

Each time his hips slammed into you, he ground himself into your clit.

“Mine,” He whispered as a perfectly placed thrust sent you flying off the cliff.

You moaned deeply as you fluttered around him. Your legs pushed against the immovable wall that was Alastor as his name fell from your lips in a unholy prayer.

“Mine.” He said again, voice naked as his power swelled around him. Shadows danced. Static swelled as dim lights flickered then died, leaving them cast in firelight alone.

You could feel him twitch inside you as he slammed home with such force as to knock the air right out of your lungs. His grip flexed around your neck as he bit down on your lip, spilling blood into your mouth that he eagerly lapped up.

“Mine,” He whispered, a look you could only describe as insane dancing in his eyes as he looked down at you. You struggled to take a breath as he twitched, the last spurts of his seed deposited deep inside of you.

You gasped his name as he licked up the trail of blood that had run down your lip and jaw.

“Mine and, ma chérie-” He said again. For the first time, true fear that you had made a deadly mistake in your hasty deal, “I do not share.”

~~~~~<3

Tag list: @the-shark-named-sharon, @intensityofchaos, @xalygator, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @chibistar45

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor smut

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falling-endlessly · 4 months

Text

Boomerang (part 4)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Vox is determined to win you over, no matter what. You just want your damn peace back.

Warnings: some mature themes (mention of sexual arousal)

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

Vox gripped the bathroom counter, staring at himself in the LED outlined mirror. "You've still got it," he said to himself firmly, lifting a clawed finger to point at his reflection. "Just be cool, man."

He relaxed his face into his signature grin, leaning an elbow against the counter. "Hey Y/n, how's everything? I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee sometime?" He threw in a wink for good measure.

A second of silence passed before he shuddered violently, breaking composure. "Ugh, no, no. Focus, man. Okay," he repositioned himself, shoving his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. He cleared his throat, mustering up his best confident, devil-may-care expression. "Doll, what do you say we get out of here tonight, yeah? Just say the word and I'll get us a private room at your favorite restaurant."

His smile twitched. Shit. That wouldn’t work on you either.

This was ridiculous. He started trends on a whim, charmed the masses to hang off of his every word, and yet—here he was, rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror like a prepubescent boy with a crush. And failing miserably too.

He shook his head to clear it, hands grasping at the sides of his monitor so tightly it displaced the pixels on his screen. "Think Vox, what did you do to make her like you the first time?"

But if he was being completely honest, it was actually you who made all of the first moves. You who captured his attention like a vice. You who reeled him in, hook, line and sinker. There was no grand courtship on his part. In fact, he couldn't even remember the exact moment he had started to fall for you. It was all so easy, natural, seamless. He didn't have to do anything except for be himself.

He pursed his lips, turning back to the mirror warily. And—whatever, fine, fuck it. Not like anyone could see him debase himself like this anyway.

Vox sighed, his smile dropping like an overused mask. The desperation and vulnerability that he hated so much creeped back into his eyes, making him tense.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm such a damn idiot and—I just..." he trailed off, before groaning, dropping his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is pathetic."

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity like some lovesick loser? For fuck's sake, he wasn't just some spineless bottom feeder, he was Vox. CEO of Pride's largest conglomerate. People would kill to be in his position.

A shaky grin forced itself back on his face as he lifted his head. Fuck, enough of this. Nothing was going to get done if he just sat here and twiddled his thumbs all day. It was time to make a move.

With his mental armor back in place, he marched to your room like a man on a mission. He may or may not have sent a drone on your tail to find it, since everyone else in this damned hotel seemed hellbent on pretending that they had short term memory loss when he asked. It was still a prototype, unreleased to the public. A camera the size of an ant, for incognito purposes of course.

When he finally reached your door, he pasted a confident, charming smile on his face. One that he knew used to fluster you once upon a time.

"Just act natural," he chided himself quietly, taking a deep breath before knocking on your door.

There was a moment of silence, before some shuffling was heard, and then the handle was turned.

Vox froze as you opened the door, dressed in baggy sweats with your hair in a disarray. Your shirt had ridden to the side at some point, and the rumpled neckline was exposing the enticing dip of your collarbone. He felt his mouth go dry.

And suddenly it struck him how much he missed you. God, he'd missed you. Your comforting presence, your lively humor, even the small things like waking up next to you or seeing your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. And fuck, it hurt to have you just out of reach.

Your pretty mouth pulled down into a frown when you saw him, body language changing from relaxed to guarded in an instant.

Vox forced himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. This was his moment to shine. He'd practiced for this.

"Hey—" he started cheerfully, before the door was promptly shut in his face.

Vox blinked stupidly, standing in front of your room in shocked silence. Did—did you just—?

Frowning, he raised a hand to knock again. "Y/n?" He called out in confusion.

"Go away, asshole," your muffled voice came from somewhere on the other side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"But—"

"I said beat it," you growled, before a glowing barrier materialized outside of your door. Fuck, if he touched that he knew he wouldn't stop bugging until tomorrow morning.

"Fine," he hissed under his breath, turning and storming away. So that was how you wanted to play it, huh? Fine, joke’s on you. He liked a challenge.

On the way back to his room though, he felt a familiar, pleasant tightness between his legs. Vox froze, slowly looking down at the noticeable tent in his pants in horror.

"Oh, come on."

****

The next few days could only be described as an intensely aggressive game of cat and mouse. He tailed your ass like a damn police dog, determined to get even a moment alone with you—but to his absolute irritation, you kept coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to blow him off.

He invited you to take a walk with him after dinner? You suddenly developed a spontaneous stomach bug and now you were bedridden. He held a door open for you? You pushed open the other side of the double doors and maintained unimpressed eye contact with him the entire time. He couldn't even follow you with his micro-camera anymore, because you'd promptly discovered it and stabbed it to his bedroom door with a needle as a violent warning.

Nothing was going according to plan and he was growing more frustrated by the minute. What was the point of coming here if he saw you just as often as if he had stayed in his tower?

"How am I supposed to convince her to come back," his eye twitched, one night on a rant-filled phone call with Velvette. "If I can't fucking talk to her?"

Velvette looked at him like he was a dried piss stain on the wall. "Vox, do I look like I give a singular fuck about your dumpster fire of a love life?"

Ah yes, such encouraging commentary as always. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to call if his abused ego was just going to get attacked while it was already rolling around in a fetal position.

"You're still on the call with me," he said pointedly.

Velvette rolled her eyes, scrunching her nose up at him in irritation. "Fine, since you're so pathetic, I guess I could spare some charity," she ignored his scoff, continuing without a hitch. "You need to fucking lay off, stop trying so damn hard to get her attention. It’s giving desperate and creepy."

"I'm not—"

"Yes you are," Velvette glared. "Listen. If you don't want to end up permanently dumped, you need to compromise. Stop acting on your emotions like a toddler, you can't fucking afford that right now. And neither can we," she grumbled the last part.

Vox dug his claws into the bedding he was lying on, tearing up the soft material. The thought of giving up on you physically pained him, but...this wouldn't really be giving up, right? Velvette was suggesting a temporary ceasefire, a way to make you let your guard down, which might not be such a bad idea. It was more like...a strategic redirection of his efforts. Something that would benefit him in the long run.

He needed to build up the trust you'd lost in him. Slowly, bit by bit, until you accepted his feelings again.

The gravity of the situation was daunting. Something told him that this was his last chance, that if he fucked up one more time, you really would be gone for good.

He couldn't afford to lose you like that. It would fucking break him.

A loud crash sounded in the background on the other line, jolting him out of his thoughts.

Velvette's face drew into an aggravated sneer as she turned around. "For fuck's sake. What the fuck is it no—"

The line went dark, cutting off the call.

Vox sighed, throwing his phone blindly somewhere on the bed as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep evaded him that night, but in its place he started to devise a new strategy. Velvette was right, if he kept pushing, he would only drive you away. It was time to change his approach, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was...time to put his pride on the backburner.

Because he could live without his pride, but fuck—he didn't even want to think about what an eternity without you would be like. Besides, it was only until all of this was over and you came back home. He just...had to be patient.

****

After taking a few days to regroup, Vox was now more than ready to put his plan into action.

He’d rehearsed an embarrassing amount of times in the bathroom mirror, popped a breath mint, chugged an energy drink, and slapped himself in the face for good measure. Not necessarily in that order.

Now, in the late hours of the morning, he waited patiently for everyone to filter out before making his move, quietly cornering you in the kitchen.

You were sitting in the far corner, hunched over a steaming mug just like he knew you would be. It was something you'd been doing since he first met you, always reserving twenty minutes after breakfast to enjoy a second cup. He didn't even need to look at the contents to know that there was only a single cream, but enough sugar to make an elephant go into cardiac arrest.

That precious information would forever be saved to his hard drive.

For a long moment, he just stood there like a certified creep, admiring the familiar scene with painful longing. You hadn't noticed him yet, so your expression was still the vision of perfect bliss, eyes closed with a slight uptick to the corner of your mouth. And suddenly, he wasn't in this shitty hotel anymore. The retro kitchen transformed into a sleek modern design, the white walls melting to light blue. It was one of the few lazy mornings both of you were able to spend together, and—

"What do you think you're doing?" Your irritated voice shattered his fantasy like a pane of rose-tinted glass.

"Ah, Y/n!" His grin slotted back into place like a puzzle piece. Fuck, he hadn't even said a proper sentence to you, and you were already looking at him like he was a piece of shit someone forgot to flush down a public toilet. He had to act fast or you'd walk out again. "Funny running into you like this," he chuckled, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. Electricity crackled between them. "Actually, I was wondering if—"

"No," you said sharply, cutting him off.

"I—What?" His grin twitched.

"Whatever it is that you're going to say, no," you snapped, turning your back to him for emphasis.

Vox went silent for a moment. Tone it down, he repeated in his head. Stick to the plan.

"Look," he started, softening his tone. "I realize that I haven't exactly been," he grimaced. "Fair to you."

You laughed bitterly. "Understatement of the decade, asshole."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, watching carefully as your shoulders tensed in surprise. "I'll stop, if that's what you want. I won't ask you out anymore or bother you with stupid, meaningless shit."

"But?" You said quietly.

"But I still want to be...friends with you," the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he swallowed it with a smile.

He chanced a quick glance at your face, and—well you looked like you didn't really buy it, but at least you didn't look like you wanted to kill him and dispose of his body in a ditch anymore.

"Alright," you said, after a long period of skeptical silence, your eyes unreadable. "I’ll hold you to it, then."

He closed his eyes. "Please, just consider—" he froze, processing your words.

You said yes? Fuck, you said yes!

He cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, absolutely. Totally. Makes sense."

He caught the briefest flash of amusement in your eyes, before you turned to bring your empty mug to the sink.

"So, uh," he started giddily. Fuck rein it in man, slow down. "What are you doing later?"

“I’m busy today,” you shut him down immediately, making him deflate at your sharp tone. Then you paused for a second, seeming to contemplate something. “Well actually,” you said lightly, making him perk up again. “There is something you can join me for, but it’s a little…out of your depth.”

“Oh really? Try me,” he smirked confidently. As if anything would stop him from finally spending time with you today.

A vindictive spark suddenly flared in your eyes, making him hesitate. "Group therapy and trust exercises," you said smugly, and a jumble of odd noises quickly glitched from his head, his screen flashing briefly to show a giant, red exclamation point. "But since you're too busy with that billion dollar company and all, I thought you wouldn't be interested," you smiled sweetly.

Oh. You conniving little shit. You had him cornered.

Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing his homework.

“How f-f-fun,” he forced out, the words literally tasting like ash on his tongue.

“It is,” you nodded genuinely, making him double take. “I actually quite enjoy it.”

Vox pressed his lips together into a fine line, dread steadily welling in his chest as he realized that yes, you were actually serious. Sweet fuck.

For a second, Vox contemplated making a strategic retreat and calling it a day. He eyed the door behind him longingly.

But no, he couldn’t afford to back down from your little game just yet. If this was how you wanted to raise the stakes, fine. Bring it on.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vox mustered up a pained smile. "Actually," he said, making you raise a brow. "I'd like to give it a shot."

"Really?" You said incredulously.

"Yeah?" His grin twitched. "Why not?"

****

<— Part 3 Chapter Index

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