lucifer spends months trying to get me to open up to him and be....well, anything.
i meet his quips head on and i always have a joke at the ready and, honestly he does like that. he likes my wit and my charm and that i know how to schmooze and placate when needed.
but thats not what made him attracted to me, thats not what made him change a whole weekend’s worth of plans to crash my art gallery.
he came because there was something more beneath that, something deeper and darker and he needed to know what it was.
and he figured he’d find out in a weekend and call it done and add another notch to his bed post, but i gave him nothing. i gave him a practiced smile and attention through subtly ground teeth and all it did was make him more desperate for the truth.
and then finally, FINALLY, after what feels like forever to him, something that is no mean feat considering...
finally he gets a peek behind the curtain.
it is 18 months after i have met him, and 6 weeks after i have disappeared into the wilds of washington state. he’s pulled in every favor and every resource to find me, and I end up having to head back to LA when he finally decides to just harass one of my biggest clients non stop.
and it is the first time i drag him back to my cabin.
and it is small and it is two bedrooms.
it has a wrap around porch and a fireplace, and a grill out back, and a fire pit in the yard and a storage shed beyond the swinging bench. at night you can hear the river and the wildlife, and it is so far removed from los angeles that for a moment he thinks his heart has stopped.
i tell him i bought and paid for the land outright and that i had both hands in building the cabin myself.
i tell him how my grandparents* had a house in the south carolina mountains and how they’d built it brick by brick by themselves and how i’d always been so resentful of my family for letting it be sold.
and he asks, with a frown and a raised eyebrow and an awkward chuckle why, why someone like me would slum it out in the middle of the woods.
and i look at him levelly and tell him over the rim of my whiskey glass that it is because i plan to retire as early as possible so that i may drink myself to death in the peace and quiet and for the first time in a long time,
he doesn’t know how to respond.
so i fill the void for us and i explain how i was late getting started on an education and a career, and how i willingly threw myself into a viper’s pit to get what i want.
i tell him how i made a career and money out of real estate in florida and how i skirted laws and still clung to my morals with a pinkie. i stole from the rich and i screwed them over and i lied and schemed and i went to court time and again and time and again they had nothing on me.
i tell him how once i hit the correct number i put money into bigger properties, how i stole it right from under their fucking noses and gave it to people who would otherwise have nothing, and i tell him how i used vacation rentals to fund my photography and my art, and how when that wasn’t enough i used to the profit from both to seek out my escape in the PNW.
and finally as the sun begins to rise over the mountains and stream through the trees he realizes that i never truly plan for a future.
i plan for today and tomorrow and everything else is just interest.
he has fallen in love with a human that planned on dying years ago, and now has to struggle through every waking moment knowing it didn’t fucking go as planned, and he has no idea what to do with that.
for once it’s not about him, and he knows he shouldn’t be so excited about it.
but fuck, is he ever.
*eventually, some time later, i tell him how my grandparents were actually my great aunt and uncle. i tell him how so many relatives died before i was born, and how my nana/great aunt took a promise to her sister seriously and how she decided she would be the nana i did not have, and how that would be all i ever knew until such a time as i could understand the how and why.
i tell him how when she died when i was nine going on ten, and how i didn’t understand and i didn’t cry about it for almost a decade.
it is always over a bottle of whiskey when i tell him these things, and sometimes he wonders if it is not taking advantage, but he brushes it aside because he’s so desperate to know.
i tell him how my great uncle once slammed the door to his new house, with his new wife, two years after my nana had died, right in my face and he notices finally the way i say “nana” always, and “leo”, always.
he notices how i do that with many people.
he notices there are some people who are barely more than a name, names he takes careful notes of, and how there are people that are more than names.
he notices so many things he never mentions.
he notices and sometimes when he’s alone by himself staring up at the ceiling and listening to the never ending LA traffic,
he wishes he’d known sooner.
he wishes he’d been given the foresight his beloved father has; has and ignores.
he wishes for so many things he never tells me.
we are a ship that is based on secrets and half truths, and we will never tell each other we are each aware of it.
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TODOROKI SHOUTO | PRETTY THING
content warnings : mdni. dub—con. bruises. fingering. temperature play. dacryphilia.
notes : aged—up ! character. shouto is a pro—hero.
summary : shouto is a good boyfriend, he just happens to know perfectly well what he wants — when he wants it, the where be damned.
dressed in a dainty little dress with a bow tied around your waist, silvers and flowers in your hair — you just knew this date with shouto would be absolutely wonderful. though you became unsure about the length of your skirt, shouto's narrow–eyed glances at your thighs making you want to choke on the heart pounding sensation forming in your throat. was it too short? did you accidentally turn yourself slutty? squirming in place as your mind drifted further and further from the truth, completely unaware of the heat smoldering in mismatched irises.
palm that was bigger than yours, colder than usual, landed upon your thigh; jolting you out of your revelry with a squeak. orbs adopting that doe–eyed look that was more of a deer caught in headlights as you looked at him. "s–shouto..? did i–i do something w–wrong?" and shouto wanted to laugh, your innocence about his intentions — about the storm ragin beneath his veins, was endearing as it was aggravating; he wanted to ravish you the moment he saw you, he wanted to pound your pretty little cunt until you become so sore you'd be begging for him to stop ( he wouldn't have ), he wanted to ruin you while covered in the dainty little thing you called dress. you looked like a present that was meant for him to ravish. a squeeze hard enough that bruises would probably bloom on the flesh the next day was given, completely bypassing the hitch in your breath and the way your thighs pressed together even tighter. "spread those legs for me, would you now?"
features set aflame by the bluntness of his words, you looked away from him to gaze eyes bright with tears and glazed over with lust at the passing streets instead; unaware of how his eyes immediately turned into slits at your defiance and how each turn of the vehicle brought the both of you further and further from the crowded city to some place bare of crowds. another squeeze given in the tight grip he had around your thigh made you whimper, slowly travelling upwards despite the way your muscles clenched together — as if wanting to stop him, like you could ever stop todoroki shouto from getting what he wanted.
foolish girl. his foolish girl.
a chuckle that echoed in the confines of the vehicle brought such delicious shivers to course through your spine, in an attempt to maintain a semblance of dignity you wrapped both hands against his wrist. "s–shouto please, n–not here—" words cut off as his fingers deftly pulled your panties to the side and slip inside the plush velvet walls of your drooling cunt, tears immediately sprung in the corner of your eyes, latching on to your lashes like dew drops — the searing heat of your pussy wrapped around the frost–coated digit had you whimpering. it felt so good that you failed to notice how the vehicle already stopped in the middle of nowhere, how shouto had that god awful smirk in his lips at the sight of his pretty thing finally surrendering to his will.
"you can't tell me no, darling. you know why?" it was the soft cadence of his voice that made your eyes widen, a sob tearing from your lips at the torturous pace of his finger — cruel man with glaciers and lava in his soul, you love him; you love him so much you would offer yourself to him on a silver platter if he ever showed indications of wanting you to. "because i wouldn't listen. i will fuck you wherever and whenever i want, i will flip your skirt and pound my fingers in this tiny cunt if i wanted to. so be a good girl and take it for me, yeah?"
nails digging into his wrist, whines spilling like honey from your throat — you nodded and thus, sealed the deal with the devil that would end with you sore all over, bruises blossoming like petals in spring, and cunt drooling with his cum.
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